#the pause had greg dying

[kimwxlers]

"Taskmaster does not support smoking. It's very dangerous."

TASKMASTER: SERIES 16, "Languidly"

[gingerteafairy]

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩 (𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Rumors start flying at the Heffley's chaotic family dinner, and what was once just a joke turned into the realest thing you’ve ever had.

tags n warnings: fluff, suggestive, no smut, f!reader, christmas party. word count: 1.4k

It was Christmas, and Rodrick Heffley kept banging on his drums like they were the only thing keeping him sane during that chaotic family dinner. Greg was off messing around with Rowley, and Rodrick couldn’t do a thing about it in the name of "holiday spirit." To make things worse, Heather Hills had rejected him two weeks before, and she was now a guest at the dinner. Meanwhile, his mom couldn’t stop dancing to those ridiculous Christmas songs, while his dad stood there, practically dying of embarrassment.

Sneaking through the door, you spotted Rodrick giving his best aggressive solo, admiring how talented—and pissed—he could be, just like the goofy kid he was. You knew him from music class, and you couldn’t help but fall in love with the way he played. You definitely had a thing for drummers—it was obvious with all the school crushes and band posters you had. But Rodrick was different. He wasn’t your average rockstar; he was a cute, emo boy trying to look dark and mysterious, and that made you smile.

"Escaping the party?" you asked, leaning against the doorframe, the clinking of plates filling the air.

Rodrick paused, lifting his hand to silence the drums. "What’d you say?" he asked, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow, his ears still ringing from the loud music.

"Escaping the party?" You repeated, grinning as you stepped closer and plopped down on the small sofa in the garage.

"Yeah, that’s torture," he muttered, a half-smile tugging at his lips as he slid off his stool to sit next to you. The overwhelming scent of his cologne, too strong for someone his age, hit you like a wave. You tried not to wrinkle your nose.

"I agree. My parents won’t stop saying embarrassing stuff about me, and my little sister’s acting all sweet like she’s not the literal spawn of Satan," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Don’t you just hate that?" He chuckled, crossing his left leg and settling more comfortably on the couch. "Younger siblings…"

"It’s like their job," you laughed, adjusting your oversized sweater to make yourself more comfortable.

"How'd you escape the sweater curse?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Rodrick grinned proudly. "I told my mom that if I wore a sweater, I’d torture the guests with a live band performance and body odor." He leaned back, clearly pleased with himself.

"Ugh, I wish I could pull that off. I’m stuck wearing this ridiculous thing," you sighed, leaning your elbows on your knees and propping your chin in your hands.

To be honest, Rodrick thought you looked kinda cute in that sweater two sizes too big, but there was no way he was gonna admit that out loud. Pfft, a rockstar liking a sweater?

"I think you look cute," he whispered, breaking every rockstar rule just to get a smile out of you.

"Thanks," you replied, feeling your cheeks flush a little.

"Hey, how ‘bout we go to my room and listen to something that’s not this Santa nonsense?" Rodrick suggested, standing up abruptly. "I mean… if you want, of course. Not like it’s mandatory or anything. I don’t wanna force you to do anything…"

"I’m in." You grinned, standing up and stretching. "But, uh, how do we get past all those people?"

Rodrick rolled his eyes dramatically, a grin playing on his lips. "Pfft. Relax. I’ve got the perfect plan."

"And what’s this brilliant plan, Heffley?" You crossed your arms and tilted your head, raising an eyebrow.

"Simple. We run." He grabbed your hand and tugged you along, sprinting from the garage, through the living room, and up the main staircase, weaving through all the older relatives and kids in the room.

"Rodrick!" Susan shouted from across the room, causing you both to freeze mid-step, caught like deer in headlights.

"Great plan, huh?" you muttered, narrowing your eyes at him, turning to see Mrs. Heffley glaring at you both from the bottom of the stairs.

"What do you think you're…" She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze dropping to your joined hands, and a sly smile spread across her face.

"Oh, no. Mom, it’s not what you think," Rodrick stammered, quickly letting go of your hand to take a step down.

"Uh-huh." She held up a hand to stop him, her eyes flicking back and forth between you two, pausing to focus on how red your face had become. "I know exactly what my little darlings are up to. Why didn’t you tell me you brought your girlfriend for Christmas, Rodrick? This makes me so happy."

"Girlfriend?" You both said at the same time, exchanging a look.

"Everyone, come here! Greg, Manny, sweetie, I’ve got great news!" Susan called, skipping happily toward the living room.

"Let’s go," Rodrick said, practically dragging you down the hallway, slamming the door shut behind you both. He wedged a chair under the doorknob to make sure no one would burst in.

"Wow, I almost died back there," you laughed, placing a hand over your chest and walking backward until you collapsed onto his bed, your feet swinging off the side.

Rodrick ruffled his hair in a slightly awkward manner before lying down next to you, his long legs hanging off the side of the bed. "Damn, sorry about that... my mom..."

"It’s fine," you reassured him, glancing up at the ceiling. "She and my mom are probably still talking about it."

"Yeah. You being my girlfriend," he teased, rolling his eyes.

"Girlfriend. Can you imagine? What a joke," you laughed, staring at him, your gaze lingering on his dark eyeliner. His eyes were so beautiful, so expressive.

"It’s a joke. Girlfriend…" he repeated quietly, his gaze softening as he took in your face. You were so beautiful, so real, so...

Before he knew it, his lips were on yours in a desperate kiss, his hand finding its way to your waist, which you immediately responded to, your fingers tangled in his hair.

It felt perfectly right. His lips were soft, and you tasted just right. The way your bodies fit together, the way your tongues danced together, and how his hands knew exactly where to touch you. It was awkward, sure, but that was what made Rodrick special—everything he did was so real.

The kiss broke, and you both stared at each other, neither of you needing to say a word to know that you should have done this much sooner. But then, your laughter broke the silence, a burst of awkward giggles that filled the room.

"I’m such an idiot," Rodrick laughed, his body shaking with the movement, and you couldn’t help but laugh along. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket by the fire.

"You are. What even was that?" you said, still laughing, the sound echoing between you two.

"I don’t know. But I liked it," he admitted, stopping his laughter for a second to look into your eyes, his expression soft.

"I liked it too," you smiled, leaning in for another hug, the warmth of his embrace pulling you closer. "But I think we just made a rumor come true."

"Damn, it’s true," he muttered, biting his lip to stifle the next burst of laughter, which escaped when you smiled again. "How about we keep this rumor going for a bit, until we’re actually boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Rodrick Heffley wants to be my boyfriend?" You teased, and he couldn’t resist pinching your cheeks.

"Maybe," he replied, his voice a little unsure, but hoping for the best in return.

"I do too. Maybe. Want to be your girlfriend," you said, giving him a sly smile.

"Cool."

"But I think we should leave the room before we start another kind of rumor," you giggled, gesturing toward the door. "You know... that kind."

"I wouldn’t mind if the rumor was true," he teased, his gaze sweeping over you from head to toe before focusing on your mouth, and then your eyes.

"I wouldn’t mind either," you whispered, your eyes falling on his lips. And that was enough for Rodrick to do what he did best—go in for another kiss. That night, you both made sure to live up to all the Christmas rumors that might swirl around the table, especially when you came back wearing that worn-out sweater, messy hairstyle and Rodrick had eyeliner that clearly belonged to someone with a lot more experience. Yeah, for the first time, you were grateful rumors existed.

@bernardsbendystraws divider

@ikkyfics this one is for you honey

[riverxsong-ao3]

The Knights of Walpurgis: Chapter 18

It’s hell here without you and Tom, Harry. Ginny and I have been sneaking off to the room – you know, that one – just to be alone, but Greg and Vince are starting to act weird. They’re upset I’m not spending enough time with them, want to know why I’m staying at Hogwarts for Christmas. I’ve told them there’s no point in going home since there’s no ball this year – which is true, Mother and Father are too busy – but it’s going to be so boring being the only one left in the Slytherin dorms. At least Blaise and Theo seem to understand, even if they don’t talk to me outside of Knights’ meetings anymore.

*

Draco, Why don’t you come to – come to – Sorry, I can’t even write it down. Tell Ginny you want to come with her and the Weasleys to my place for Christmas. There’s definitely enough room for you here. Your family will think you’re at Hogwarts, and everyone at school will think you’ve gone home.

*

Yeah? You sure your godfather won’t kick me out on the street?

Harry suppressed a laugh. If Sirius could accept Tom into his home, knowing who he was and what he’d done, he’d have no problem letting Draco stay for a few days.

I’m certain of it. Sirius is a good man, he’ll let you stay – and if he doesn’t, I’ll smuggle you in, but I don’t think it’ll come to that. Just take your name off the list of students staying at Hogwarts right before you go, Disillusion yourself before you get on the train, and stick with the Weasleys until you get off the platform. They’ll get you here.

*

But what if they don’t? What if they won’t take me?

*

Then you get right back on the train and go back to Hogwarts. But they will, I promise.

*

Alright. Is Tom there? I want to talk to him too.

Harry looked up from the thin notebook that allowed him to talk to Draco directly and glanced in Tom’s direction. He was still out cold, the sheets and blankets that had been conjured to keep him warm as he recovered from absorbing a particularly vicious piece of his soul tucked up around him. It had been a full day since Sirius had found the two of them, lying on the floor of their bedroom, both of them nearly dying, and had dragged them down to the sitting room, conjuring two new beds. Harry had woken hours before, feeling fresh and recovered and with enough strength to slip up to their room and retrieve the two-way notebook, but Tom still shivered and quaked in his long, unending sleep.

He’s here. He had an unfortunate accident, but I’m sure he’s going to be alright. He’ll be happy to see you.

There was a long pause before Draco wrote back.

Alright. I’ll do it. I’ll see you soon.

[vonlipvig]

I write this from my panic room, hiding from the worm that kicks my ass every time it sees me…

Dearest Jules

This game is amazing and I love it. Also this game is a bastard and I hate it. I had to operate on FIVE people IN ONE GO who all had evil fish in their lungs. This went about as well as you could expect, and it took me eight attempts to get past patient No.2, fortunately here my glorious incompetence finally paid off, and in a rare moment of empathy, the game decided that I could stop at three actually, and help arrived to bail me out.

Then, as I sat, wrapped in a shock blanket and sipping a hot drink, THE FUCKING TRIANGLES CAME BACK WITH NEW GASEOUS THORNS!

Needless to say this drove me to my limit. The patented Eleanor Smith Method (TM) of nocking them out quickly with the grace and care of a back alley dentist was no longer cutting it for me. Brought to my lowest point I was driven to do the impossible and understand how Triti actually works. It took a lot of swearing, dead patients, and at least three separate YouTube videos, but Jules, I have done it! I finally understand these damn triangles now! All of gods secrets now are mine to know! (Then I lost two more patient because I went over the time limit)

Afterwards, Angie asked me (the surgeon who had to pause surgery to pull up YouTube) if things were getting easier for me. And surprisingly it turned out they were, because now the triangles were gone, and I could focus on the easier task of killing squid. I only lost two patients!

It was at this point, I realised how much I’m invested in this story, and how much I like these characters. I think the read hot crucible of back to back surgeries meant I’d spent a few days away from proper character interactions and narrative chapter parts, so when it returned I was like: oh I’ve missed this, this is great!

I love watching these guys interact, I kind of wish I could watch them just on a regular day. What do you think the office party is like? I bet the dialogue there would be great.

Anyway our New Dad (Sidney), seems to have fucks that he gives, and entered a new and exciting rebellious phase, effectively telling the political bastards to go fuck themselves because people are dying, and then calling Victor to ship out the new drugs regardless of what those assholes say. Victor was, of course, fully prepared for this exact scenario, and had the files all ready to go…. along with his own secret weapon, an anonymous tip to the press. Victor comes through for us so much, and I’m not just saying that because he’s kinda hot and let me take a break from surgery to play Professor Layton (a game I’m good at).

We also had a very serious discussion about our combat capabilities, and I love the looseness with which Tyler ‘I’m a healer but…’ Chase holds on to his Hippocratic Oath. Even having witness his final fuck disappear freely over the horizon, I was still a little surprised that Sydney agreed to his plan of catching these terrorists ourselves, with the only addition being to make sure every group had a combatant in it. I was also a little surprised that Victor doesn’t have a taser squirrelled away somewhere for just this eventuality, because honestly he seems the type.

Anyway the plan went like shit and Cybil got infect by an evil, worm who I hate and fear in equal measure, but I must press on for Cybil, who is cool, and who might tell me what’s going on between her and Original Dad (Greg) if I save her. The time has come to stop shaking and crying in terror, and step from my panic room a grown w- (the worm tunnels into my heart, killing me instantly)

we gather here to mourn the passing of our dear friend and mutual, eleanor bagadew, whose untimely passing at the hands of Evil Worm signifies a true loss, not only to ourselves, but to the entire field of medicine 🙏🏼.

OH MY GOD YES I REMEMBER THE 5X OPERATION. like, this game truly had no mercy at times. i'm surprised i didn't scratch up my ds screen with how furiously i was tapping and slashing at it with this, tbh.

oh, i'm really getting a kick out of derek, in the middle of the operation, going "ok angie, please hold the phone like this, yes, thank you, ok...triti tutorial, triti tutorial...here it is, let's go, quick! AH GEEZ THE ADS", miss thompson you have to deal with so much, thank you for everything, queen ♡.

YES YES i love these characters so much, sidney my MAN ♡ (love love loveeee his relationship with victor, ngl iiiii kinda ship them lmao, same with victor and tyler). they're all written so well, and sure, the story can get Wild and Crazy at times, but the characters really do ground it so much. and YES, what i would give to just have scrubs the tv show but with the caduceus gang lmao.

go forth now, save queen cybil, do it for all of us (and greg, of course ;3).

[zalrb]

Succession 4.06

So an anon asked me to review Succession the way I do OTH/Skins/TVD etc so let's try it out.

I never thought I'd ever feel nostalgic seeing Logan's face

"Good to see you, dad" and the video is paused on this face?

this show is so fucking good.

3. *Succession theme song plays* me:

4. Is this how billionaires flirt?

5. Lol, really, Shiv, the guy who possibly sends frozen blood to an ex? Come on.

6. I mean he's Alexander Skarsgard but still.

7. I wonder what it must be like for him to not be the tallest person on set considering he's 6'4 and Nicholas Braun is 6'7.

8. "BOYS, you're not good at this." She speaks the truth, Kendall and Roman, this is fucking bush league.

9. You are not. serious. people.

10. Kendall's outrageous demand to build a mock house overnight reminds me of this boss I had who would want to switch up where we would do events the day of the event and we had to be like, we can't just ... change it, there are permits and licences we need...

11. "Tom Wambsgans, finally made me feel something." I have to say I do quite like toxic flirty tomshiv.

12. "Can I just say … it’s kind of hard to make houses seem like tech because we’ve had houses for a while…" COUSIN GREG.

13. "Oh my God, you're fired." ROMAN.

14. "I'm not crazy about, you know, dying." "Yeah, it's bullshit." That is indeed my vibe.

15. This scene with Roman and Gerri is breaking my heart, he yearns for her respect so badly.

16. Kieran better win all the fucking emmys.

17. Oh their expressions, my god.

why are they doing this to me?

18. GIVE. KIERAN. THE EMMYS.

19. "Fuck off, you fired Gerri. Shiv's godmother, Gerri??" Oh, I thought Shiv was being facetious when she called Gerri her godmother, I didn't think she actually was her godmother??

20. "grumble quote grumble quote" I fucking love Kendall. He's terrible but oh my god, the dialogue.

21. I know on this blog there's a lot of discussion about how Shiv isn't my favourite, but let's talk about the skilful bit of acting Sarah did in this scene, man, the various emotions she goes through?

22. I do find this scene with Tom to be interesting though because Shiv looks at him like she's seeing who he is for the first time

and I wonder if it's because he's finally talking about wanting money and liking money or if it's because she realizes he can be acerbic and mean-spirited and basically communicate in a way she communicates with everyone else in her world and she's intrigued.

23. "It's enough to make you lose your faith in capitalism." KENDALL.

24. Kendall has taken kind of a backseat this season compared to Roman and Shiv but man, Jeremy's acting, his expression of complete abandonment when Roman backs out?

25. As someone who does like Ken, I'm glad his speech went well and the other shoe didn't at least drop in this episode. I was like he got a mini win and I'm happy.

26. Shiv was pretty diabolical this episode with the two of them, though.

27. Roman replaying that manipulated Logan's video over and over, about how he always gets it wrong, MY HEART.

[drrealityslenderverse]

Confessions

A03 Request: Chris and Alex comfort each other and end up confess their feelings. It can be a mix of angst and comfort.

We're starting this out with some angst but it'll end in some nice comfort!

Back to main Contents || Back to One-shot Contents

“You know what? I’m done!” Alex shouted, stalking off for the car. 

Chris flinched but was quick to run after him. “Alex, wait!” 

His feet skidded in the snow as Alex came to a sudden halt in front of him. The look of anger burned into Chris as he fell. 

“She’s dead because of us. Dead, Chris!” Alex snapped and gestured at the grave marker they’d just finished making—the thing was already threatening to fall over. 

Chris couldn’t meet his eyes. Heather was dead because she’d gotten hurt helping them. Without knowing who to trust, a hospital hadn’t been an option. Prior to Matt’s betrayal, he’d found her some help but after once again being on their own… The bullet wound’s infection had become too much. 

“We’ve lost too many friends, Chris.” Alex continued before striking home. “Our families would still be alive if it weren’t for you insisting we keep going.” 

“You don’t… mean it.” He felt like he’d gotten punched and then stabbed again. 

Alex just turned and headed back for his car again, leaving Chris where he sat. Chris stared, panic settling in him. All the stress and pain had made Alex lash out like this before. He’d come back… right? If there was one thing they each had always been able to count on it was each other. 

“Alex please wait…” He called out, watching the man pause. Hope fluttered in his chest. “I can’t lose you too. Don’t go. I… I love you.” 

Silence.

Dread churned his gut. The confession was out and it was met with nothing. Chris teared up as he watched Alex climb into his car and drive off. Well… there was his answer. “Stupid… Why did I think that was a good time to admit it?”

Chris drove back to the hotel they’d managed to scrounge up money for in silence. His chest ached, though for once it wasn’t from the stress of their situation nor the argument. Why did he say that? It was true but… Why say it then? Why couldn’t he have waited for a better time? Or said it so much earlier when things weren’t so… horrible.

Hands ran through his hair as he sat on the edge of the bed, eyes continuing to shoot glances at the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. “Alex always came back before…”

It was so late. Hours and not even a message on his phone. Anxiety ate at him. Chris couldn’t help but wonder if the Order had gotten him. What if he was lying trapped or dead somewhere waiting for him to stumble upon much like the two had done after going home and finding their families? A quick call rang until it went to voicemail and he let his phone drop onto the comforter as he ran his hands down his face. 

“He’s okay… he has to be okay.” Was he wasting time lying here when Alex was out there dying? 

Tears built up from months and years of stress, spilling over his cheeks as he rolled onto his side and curled into a ball. He was alone. His family, Greg, Jesse, Matt, Heather, and now maybe Alex were dead. What was he going to do with himself?

Time continued to pass. Against all odds, Chris finally managed to fall into a fitful slumber for a while. Nightmares plagued him but he wouldn’t wake until a hand firmly shook his shoulder. Chris’ eyes blinked open, registering his surroundings before jerking instinctively away from the hand with an embarrassing yelp.

“Chris, relax, it’s just me.” Alex sat on the edge of the bed, body blocking the view of the time, though Chris could only guess it was some godforsaken hour of the morning. 

“Fuck, don’t do that.”

“Sorry.” Eyes met his before quickly darting away. Alex cleared his throat, looking awkward. “And for earlier. You know I wouldn’t just leave you.” 

There was a weight behind those words of something not said but Chris didn’t push. He was ecstatic to see Alex was alive and well but exhaustion kept it from showing. 

“Are you alright?” The bed creaked as Alex shifted next to him. While the man didn’t ask it aloud, it was obvious Chris had been crying. 

“I’m just about as fucking peachy as I can be considering everything.” He winced, not meaning to make it sound like he wanted to argue further. 

Arms wrapped around him, tugging him further against Alex. “I didn’t mean it, earlier. I’ll keep following you through this insanity as long as you want.” 

Warmth flooded his cheeks; he could feel Alex’s steady breathing on his back and his chin resting on the top of his head. Was this real? Yes. Alex’s arms grounded him to the present despite the pain from the most recent deaths wracking his brain. This wasn’t something Chris would just imagine. 

“Did… you mean what you said earlier?” 

The question hung in the air between them. Chris swallowed nervously and tilted his head to at least face the man as he confessed for a second time. “Yeah. I love you…” 

For a moment he braced himself for an official rejection despite how they were currently cuddled up to each other. Alex’s smile was a rare sight these days but is spread across his face just as handsomely as Chris remembered. 

“Took you long enough to say something.” He chuckled, running a hand through Chris’ lighter hair. “You’re really obvious to the point I thought I was reading everything wrong… but I’m glad I didn’t. I love you too.”  

Okay, maybe he’d died at some point. Perhaps this was a dream. No way was this happening. Chris let himself sink further into the other man’s embrace. “Well, real or not, it’s better than what I normally dream about.”

“Alex… Don’t die, okay? I… I don’t want to see that.” Panic shot through him momentarily. Surely at any second this perfect moment they were sharing would be ruined. 

“Shh…” Surprisingly gentle touches as Alex rubbed a hand soothingly on his back, occasionally drifting to his arms to make nonsensical trails that caused goosebumps to rise on his skin. “We’re safe. We’ll be fine as long as we have each other, got it?” 

Chris hummed, muscles relaxing under the touch. His eyes drifted closed as he put down his guard; Alex’s presence made him feel safe and knowing his feelings were returned certainly took off a smidge of stress. 

“So… I guess we’re boyfriends now.” One last half-lidded look as the thought sent a spark of joy through him. One light amongst the dark reality of the Order hunting them. 

Chris would drift off in his boyfriend’s arms, Alex falling asleep soon after with arms still circling him and a smile still on his face.

[inked-out-trees]

You know that ask game for single sentences of drafts? Here's 300 something words I wrote as a tester for a fic (you know the one) not been proofread in the slightest.

"Have you seen the thing?"

Kevin poked his head out from the breaker box. "You realize that's vaguer than I can help with right?"

"Nevermind, I'll find it." James disappeared up the stairs, "Have you seen Keith by the way?"

Kevin flipped off another breaker, "Last I heard he wanted to check out the maze." Hall light was still on, so were the dining room and lounge. Maybe the kitchen?

"Good lord he's still out there. Come look,"

Kevin joined James upstairs looking through a leaded window. Sure enough he could make out Keith in the distance, wandering around confused in the labyrinth.

"We should help him, right?" James paused, watching Keith spin round.

"Look at him, he can figure it out," Keith was attempting to jump high enough to see over the hedges and failing miserably. "Eventually."

☆♤♡◇♧☆

Kevin did his best to find a comfortable position to sit. He ignored the possibility of falling off the roof to an untimely demise, or worse being stuck in agony for hours a broken pulp of a man and Then dying, instead trying not to drop the walkie talkie.

"Can you hear me ok?" James was at the maze entrance, his overalls had inexplicably gotten covered in paint throughout the morning (origin still unknown).

"If I die like this-"

"You'll be fine, it's not that high up." James lied.

"Fine, whatever. But will you please pretend to be my mysterious ex lover who may've killed me yourself at my funeral?"

The radio hissed.

"James?"

"Just tell me where to go."

"That's not a no, head straight then go to the left. I just think the intrigue would be neat, like all the guests would wonder about me having this mysterious affair- take a right, no your other right." 

"What guests? Your sister?"

"I know people!"

"Sure you do." Kevin could hear James rolling his eyes at him. Keith was at the other end of the maze, seeming to take a momentary break to lay on the ground in dejection. What a mood.

what a mood indeed. I think maybe you're trying to get me to respond with larger and larger snippets until you get all 76 thousand words-in-progress of fixed point in one answered ask. i'm onto you! here's a collection of lines and exchanges i really like so far from the latest chapters

"Chris," Robert says, with all the false gravitas he'd use when acting out a death confession. "I'd say it's been an honour, but I really don't think it has."

"We're not going to die," Chris says, exasperated. (Chapter 7)

With no further response, Max wanders around the back of the flats. For a minute he thinks Dennis has somehow disappeared as well, but then Dennis pops up from the ground, having been deeply examining the base of a shrub. (Chapter 8)

And maybe he should talk to Geoff about it, but at the same time he wants to keep it close, hold their visages in a sort of retribution. To not let them go a second time. In some ways it feels like he's searching them out, desperately trying to find pieces of his old castmates in the personalities and mannerisms of his colleagues. Other times it just feels pointless. (Chapter 9)

Greg swigs down half his pop, stifles a massive burp, and frowns at the wall. (Chapter 10)

"-and presumably it will be the reason why you're sitting here, now, looking like you've never been inside a pub in your life while your eerily well-behaved pet tries to murder me with its eyes. Yes?"

Vanessa chooses to focus on the wrong part of that speech. "She's not - Patty." She nudges Patricia until the ferret breaks her death-stare on the stranger. (Chapter 11)

[warriorsofsplatsville]

"Yes...it is near impossible to change one's perspective on something when it's been ingrained into one's mind." Vulture nods. It felt...unreal to him, however. His parents weren't anything exciting, not wonderful, not terrible, but it led him to not truly understanding other families in the long run. What was it like to be mistreated by a family member? Or to be held in such high regard by one? This disconnect made him feel iffy on the inside.

"O-Oh....I see. Your grandmother...sounded like she really got around." He chuckles nervously. Kimi does look puzzled at the two speaking of Queenie's grandmother in such a fashion, one clearly unfamiliar to the Octoling.

"Got around? Rebellious? Adventurous? What, did she travel the world or something?" Kimi raised an eyebrow, tilting his head.

"...Sure."

Clearing his throat, he shovels more food into his mouth before replying to her words. "Well, as long as she was a caring figure in your life, I suppose that's all that matters in the long run. She clearly cared for you." He pauses momentarily. "I get a feeling that a bit of the Queenie I see now is part of who she was."

This war was somewhat similar to what occurred in his world, then. Though there wasn't any rising conflicts, rather, humanity for once joined forces to try and save their dying world. "Our world was dying as well. Same as yours, we didn't treat this earth kindly, and in return, Mother Nature begot her full rage onto us." He listened closer. "And a war would most definitely speed up the process. The manufacturing of weaponry, of more healthcare equipment, launching missiles, all taking from the land and polluting it as well."

He did feel unhappy though, knowing at one point could not have cared less for the state of the world. It could very well be a difference in class- Queenie did seemingly have everything she could've wanted and thought that nothing else mattered, while the imperfect world Vulture grew up in was all he had. But forgave her, she did seem remorseful of not taking such an issue more seriously. After all, there was no reason to be angry at this point in time, everything was already gone.

Kimi frowns. "War, huh....I wonder...if the conflict between Inklings and the Octarians lasted longer than the one hundred years it did...would we have gone down the same path...?"

Vulture looks down, resting his arms on the table. "...It's hard to say. This world is...post-humanity. Nature has recovered a great amount. And your technology, while having some similarities, doesn't seem to harm nature nearly as much as ours have. Putting it simply- this world was built around you. Grew for you. And you seem to put more care into it than we ever did." He looks up at him. "Though, if it did last for say...one thousand years, perhaps. But that isn't the case, now is it?"

"Hm..."

"Regardless, I'm glad you didn't see war firsthand. It's truly a horrific thing."

His mind wanders briefly to the tale Greg had told him, about how TARTAR ran an entire metro system, testing this world's current inhabitants and comparing information to our own. The sea creatures- more specifically, the cephalopods, carried more human characteristics than he first thought. TARTAR was disgusted by how closely similar the two species were.

If they had a TARTAR system before the end of the world, would it have prevented it?

Shaking his head, he pushes the thought off to the side.

"...Miss Queenie, I don't think you realize how much I wanted to hide away at times. The whole lot of us did. Gregory and Annalise expressed as much to me at times. It's human instinct. A primal one. We value self-preservation over everything else. That's not something even I can avoid. Look at me. I've been hiding in the badlands for several years now. Cowering in fear if people discovered me." He set his utensil down. "...Fear is what drives people to start wars. To turn on each other, to kill, even. And no matter how much someone says otherwise, we can't avoid fear. It's embedded into every single one of us. I suppose, what I'm saying is...there was no shame in running."

He sighs. He doesn't like to get introspective. To get....deep. But sometimes it lets him understand a subject more clearly. As a professor, understanding is key.

Vulture instead listens carefully to Queenie's next response. "...I see. I'm sorry about that. It's hard for me to add anything to that, my feelings were always requited."

Kimi shakes his head. "Eh, happens. You can't give up on love though, Miss Lady Queenie. Sounds dumb, but love is just as powerful as hatred. Love is the reason why Inklings and Octolings can be together. Love is the reason why the world stays strong. We all need love. Call me a hippie if you will. I know I'm just a poor college student working nine to five to pay for loans and books and such." He shrugs.

warriorsofsplatsville​:

“What’s a Europe? And a Spain?” Kimi tilts his head in confusion, not recognizing those names.

“Spain, you say- oh, those were places in the old world, Kimi.” Vulture replies, now downing the food rather rapidly. Perhaps as a way to make it disappear before Queenie has the chance to ask for a bite. “Spain was a country, and Europe was a continent that several countries in it, including Spain. Two of my colleagues came from Europe, actually.”

“Oh, I see…where is this Europe then?”

“Probably underwater.”

“O-Oh…sorry, continue, Miss Queenie.”

“If your family was able to afford several estates, then you must’ve been quite rich.” Vulture nods. “I’m sorry for the divorce though, no matter how long ago it was.”

He looks surprised when she brings up how her biological mother was not pleasant to be around. “I see…so the divorce was a good thing. Was your stepmother kind, at the very least?”

He scratches his chin, pondering what questions he could probe her with. “Hm…well, tell me about your grandmother for starters. I’d like to hear about her. If you feel comfortable talking about that war and the lead-up to the end, I would like to hear that as well…scientist brain, is all.”

Well, maybe he could ask her this as revenge for her prodding into his and T’s intimate details.

“Did you have a lover?”

“Ah, you wouldn’t know them. Of course…” It wasn’t a pleasant reminder, but it was the reality they were living in. “The professor is correct.” It seemed she’d completely forgotten about trying Vulture’s bizarre meal; the gears in her head were turning too quickly.

Prompted to continue, Queenie elaborates on her housing situation. “We were quite well off. My father was a public figure of sorts, in finance magazines and the like. It meant he was able to invest in a cryostasis company when things started looking, er … dicey. That was in Japan, another country in another continent—likely what this land was built upon. I suppose I should thank Father for being so paranoid.”

She stops to have a little more of her soup, listening to Vulture’s response and explaining the divorce situation.

“Oh, yes, my stepmother was always bending over backwards to try and appeal to me. I … perhaps treated her a little unfairly, in hindsight.” Queenie shrugs her shoulders, though seems to have some genuine remorse. “You must understand, I wasn’t used to mothers trying. It just felt like pandering at the time—like she’d pull the rug out from under me when I least expected it.”

Moving on, she continues, “To explain my grandmother is a feat in itself. We were close, but … she’s the sort that never lost her rebellious streak. Always taking things a little too far, not always covering her tracks. She had quite an, er, adventurous youth, and never married.” Queenie takes a very long drink of water, avoiding eye contact with the room and staring down to the left of the table until she finishes. “Despite her willingness to squander the family fortune, I have many fond memories of her taking me places, her advice, her care—things my father rarely had time for or knew how to do. You could say she stuck with me, in a sense…”

Ah, the war. That was an entire other conversation in itself. “I can’t confirm exactly how the tensions were caused, but they’d been building for a while. We hadn’t been treating the planet with care—that played a part. People were frightened about the rising sea levels. I regret to admit that these were things I ignored for the longest time.” Queenie shakes her head slowly. “When the war actually started, it only sped things along. I can’t say it ended with peace—rather, it ended for the desperate preservation of what we had left. It was a world of mistrust.” She stirs her soup. “Admittedly, I never saw the bloodiest horrors of war first-hand. A few bombings, but no lives taken. I was immensely lucky. …But I saw the effect it had on people, and our lives.”

She pauses.

“Afterward, everyone was … much, much more scared than they had been before. The sea levels continued to rise with greater threat, people were predicting the end of the world. We travelled to the cryochambers before the ocean could claim our home, and … among other factors, I’m the only member of my family that lived to tell the tale.” And she didn’t deserve it, she didn’t deserve any of it. “Say what you will about yourself, Professor, but you tried to do something for humanity instead of running away.”

She swallows hard, putting that aspect of the conversation behind her. “Anyway. Perhaps a less intense question would be preferable.”

Unfortunately, Vulture’s next query doesn’t seem to be much easier.

“Not exactly.” Queenie sighs deeply, appearing to lose her appetite. “I had a dear friend, Rosalynn. But—” She didn’t really want to go on, but she’d already started. They’d have even more questions, otherwise. “Well. Confessing my true feelings was my biggest mistake. She was repulsed by my affections, and I never saw her much after that. If it taught me anything, it’s that love is rarely worth the effort.”

Despite this, such feelings already threatened to creep back into her life. It was decidedly a weakness, a personal flaw.

[meetinginsamarra]

My Fave Sherlock BBC AUs: Vampire Fics (1)

Around mid-month I´ll do a fic rec list with my fave AU genres or tropes. Summaries are taken from OP´s on AO3.

There are so many juicy 😉 vamp fics that there will be a part 2.

“Possession” by Nana_41175

https://archiveofourown.org/works/430205

"I seem to be suffering from delusions of being a vampire." Dr. John Watson has a new patient in hand. It seems like a straightforward case, or is it? Vampire!Sherlock/Psychiatrist!John AU fic.

“Vamplock” by EinahSirro

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060321

John is very good at not attracting vampires' attention. Until he isn't.

“Sanguinous Serendipity” by CarmillaCarmine @carmillacarmine

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21535255

AU. Vampire Sherlock meets a dying John in a field hospital in Afghanistan and gives him a whole new life.

“Swallow you whole” by Lindentreeisle

https://archiveofourown.org/works/283736

"That was amazing," John blurted out. Sherlock, already turned halfway to the door, paused and whirled back around. "Really?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at John. "Yeah," John said. Sherlock flashed him a quick, tight grin, and then John saw the fangs. Oh.

“Vampirelock-series” by Readingfanfics @writingfanficsfan​

https://archiveofourown.org/series/750315

All the stories in the BBC Sherlock verse that feature vampires.

(Which are 17 fics in total)

“The Darkness our Shadows Cast” by Readingfanfics @writingfanficsfan​

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12712242

Sherlock goes to visit Greg at night, something the man hadn't expected at all.

“Vampires in London (V.I.L.)” by Madam_Fandom @madamfandom​

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7800808

(turned into a series with 4 follow-ups)

John is a doctor and nothing ever happens to him, and then it does. He meets two fascinating men at a fundraiser...he soon finds out vampires are real and they are in London.

“An Unusual Association” by RoseAngel

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1904832

In 126 years of existing as a vampire, Sherlock Holmes had learnt two things. The first was that immortality was overrated. The second was that werewolves were dull, primitive creatures who would act on instinct and go for the throat of any vampire of whom they caught a scent. Then he met John Watson.

“The Creatures of the Night” by RoseAngel

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13366068

Prompt #23: a first meeting where Sherlock is a vampire.

“The Scent of Honey Upon His Lips” by hogwartswitch 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3607875

To new(ish) vampire Sherlock Holmes, the world has become overwhelming. Fleeing his coven and retreating to a cabin in the mountains, he savors the solitary life. However, the day he chooses to save an injured wolf rather than feeding on it introduces him to John Watson, a lone werewolf who wants anything but solitude.

“A Sharp Dressed Man” (-verse) by sgam76 @sgam76​

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12525700

Every once in a while, Mycroft Holmes is called upon to take matters into his own hands. It doesn't always go exactly as you'd expect. And he enjoys it more than he will ever admit.

(this is part one of a series of 7 fics)

“After Dark” and “Pulse” by SoftTae

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10055948

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9895991

After a week of observing the paradox that was John Watson, Sherlock had pulled out his laptop, done some research on his observations and, after repeating the line ‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true’, he’d come to the conclusion that John was not quite human.

He’d had a minor mental breakdown, started smoking again and, after deciding that John was not a threat to him, he’d got on with his life.

“Taste” by SoftTae

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5384804

John is scared that Sherlock will learn his secret... but perhaps it's not as much of a secret as he thought.

“An Acquired Taste” by kinklock

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5478731

At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased.

At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.

[space-helen]

Back to Vegas - Chapter 6

Words: 2330

Pairing: Nick Stokes x Reader

A/N: Warning for Suicide and Violence. Low key inspired by the ending of Prisoners (2012)

CH1     CH2      CH3     CH4    CH5   CH6   CH7  CH8

_______________________________

Your lungs heaved as you made it into the breakout room. Standing by the door you gave Greg a smile as Nick came in behind you. The two of you had run slightly late and it was a miracle that you’d come in in time.

“Now that everyone’s here.” Greg clapped his hands together “We should get a move on. We have a Warrant for Hannah’s property and Sara and I went in there yesterday. We found some stuff that definitely connects her to the case. Grissom and Catherine started to make stronger connections with what we found and Nick and Y/N really helped look at the evidence all again objectively.” he paused “We’re pretty confident Hannah did this, we have a lead which says she’s been hiring a warehouse just outside of Vegas so we’ll be going there. Nick, Catherine and Sara you come with me to the warehouse. Grissom and Y/N hold down the fort here and start processing some more of the stuff we pulled from Hannah’s house.”

“This isn’t very like Hannah. We all should be extra careful.” Sara spoke up “She’s usually very clever in what she does but it looks like she’s gotten lazy. There has to be a reason for that.”

Greg agreed “Keep your eyes peeled. Alright, those coming with me lets go.” He was soon leaving the room and everyone on his team for the outing soon followed. Nick wrapped his arm around you for a very brief embrace as he left the room and pecked you on the forehead.

“I’d offer you a coffee but if the others are starting right now we should too.”

You smiled at Grissom “That’s fine by me. Lead the way.”

The man smirked and led you to the room he and Catherine had been working in.

The two of you began to work and it didn’t take long for Grissom to get a call. Excusing himself from the room you continued to fingerprint the case of vials found at Hannah’s place as you waited for his return.

“How do you fancy getting away from the lab for a little bit?”

“Sure.” you smiled as you stood up.

“Greg and Sara want you to do another quick sweep of the property to look for anything else, they also want you to pick up Sara’s kit because she left it there. One of them will come over to help you after the warehouse. I’ll stay here and continue processing this” he gestured at the items in front of him

You nodded and took down the address from Grissom. “I’ve printed the vials. They just need to be run through the system now.” 

“Have fun.”

“I will.” you smiled as you made your way out to one of the work vehicles.

The drive wasn’t bad and actually went by quickly. You’d never been to this part of Vegas yet and it didn’t look half bad. The neighbourhood looked friendly yet sparse. Hopping out of your vehicle nothing seemed out of the ordinary, it was quiet and no one was around. The door was locked and had tape over to show that no one had entered. 

You brought out your knife and cut down the tape to let yourself in. Spotting Sara’s kit you picked it up and left the door open as you returned it to the trunk of your vehicle.

Entering the house again you slowly took steps inside and felt the eeriness around you. It was deadly silent yet you felt like you could hear static and like you weren’t alone. “Hello?” you called out into the space.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket so you slipped it out to read the text, you smiled when you saw it was from Nick. ‘She wasn’t at the warehouse. Greg, Sara and Cath are going to process here and I’ll be over with you soon x’

‘How can Sara process without a kit?’ you replied quickly.

‘Sharing is caring… we had a backup one in the trunk.’

You laughed ‘See you soon. Love you x’

You put your phone away and continued to walk around the house. Placing your kit down in the living room doorway you walked through to the next room which was an open plan kitchen and dining room. It was sparse but a camera on a tripod connected to a laptop caught your eye. There were items strewn across the table including a kit similar to the one you’d just processed for fingerprints back at the lab.

Moving in front of the camera to look at the laptop screen you noticed an exact reflection of what was in front of the camera, a live feed. You turned and looked away from the laptop screen around the room. That’s when the alarm bells rung, this stuff must not have been here when Greg and Sara processed the scene otherwise it would be at the lab. Slowly reaching for your gun you felt a stabbing sensation in your neck. 

The gun was knocked from your grasp across the room and you struggled against the person who’d come behind you.

“Just give in to it. Give in. You won’t be able to stand much longer. Do yourself a favour.” a woman’s voice came

You continued to struggle and managed to break yourself away briefly to see the woman’s face but it was blurry and your vision was swimming. Whatever she’d injected into you was already taking effect.

“Hannah? What did you?” you brought your hand up to your neck “Potassium?” you were feeling tired and like your tongue was heavy,

“Yes I am and no. It’s a nice little drug cocktail I mustered up when I heard you open the front door.”

You looked at your gun on the floor and tried to dive for it but that was a big mistake, your vision was spotting and Hannah kicked the gun away from your hand and stood on it, before giving you a kick to the stomach which rolled you over. “You really had to ruin my afternoon arrangements huh?”

She walked over to the table “It was supposed to be a nice little recording session to explain everything and finally end it all and be re-united with my brother. But no.” she turned around with another syringe. “You had to ruin it and take the peace away.”

You tried to crawl away on the floor and sit up to get away but she was soon back over at your side pushing you down and moving your hair out of the way. “But what’s one more casualty?” She forcefully pushed your head down to the ground, pain emitted there instantly. “Unfortunately I have nothing here that’ll kill you quickly besides the gun and that’s well that’s really not my style.”

Nick’s voice calling your name made her stop for a second. You tried your best to scream his but you had no clue what ever came out, the first dose of whatever she’d injected in your system already wreaking havoc on you.

You tried to struggle against her and push her away but it was too later, the needle had broken your skin and you could feel her injecting the concoction. She leaned down close to your ear and continued to inject the solutions as she whispered “Pitty I didn’t get to do this to anyone that actually worked on my cases before, that would have been more satisfying.”

Nick had entered the room to see her over you and saw her pulling the needle out of you and your body going limp. “Put your hands up.” he drew his gun and sent an alert out on his walkie subtly.

“I said put your hands up.”

Hannah eventually moved away from you and stood. “You don’t have long. The clock’s ticking for her already.”

“What did you inject!” he shouted.

She gestured to the table “Your guess is as good as mine, a little bit of everything.”

Nick peered at you to see your eyes fluttering open and closed as your head rolled on the ground.

“Step away.” he called to Hannah. 

“I don’t think I will.” she approached the table and picked up another vial. “You know I was saving this for me but I don’t think that’d do the trick quick enough. You wouldn’t let me have the satisfaction of dying that way.” 

She turned away from Nick as he took a step forward towards you as Hannah was slowly creeping away from you. Before he could really react he saw Hannah dive for something on the floor and stand upright again.

She held your gun to her head “Tell her I said thanks for the gun, but then again I might get the chance before you if she doesn’t make it.”

“No!” Nick shouted as he began to move towards Hannah for the gun. A bang had Nick freezing freezing, she’d shot herself.

Nick turned away in shock and shouted down his walkie talkie before coming to you with tears in his eyes. “Y/N.” he shook you “Y/N. Wake up please.”

He could see your eyes rolling in your head and you tried to open them. “Nicky.” you mumbled.

“Yeah Honey?”

“I love you.” it came out thickly “Remember that.” your voice sounded tired.

“I know Baby I know.” tears were threatening now “I love you too. Just stay with me ok?” We’re going to get you to the hospital.” he brought his fingers to your neck to try and feel your pulse.

He knew he’s asked for medical assistance and an emergency team but he couldn’t wait around. He knew it would be quicker to drive you. Picking you up he moved as fast as he could with you out to the car he’d arrived in, placing you across the back seats he hopped in the driver's seat and drove as fast as he could towards the nearest hospital.

“Y/N. Talk to me Sweetheart.” he begged as he drove.

“Please” he looked in the rearview mirror to try and see you but he could only see you lying still with limp arms. “Please speak to me. Please” he pleaded, tears very much collecting in his eyes. “We’re nearly there Honey. Nearly there, stay with me now. You’re going to be ok.”

He pulled up right outside the emergency room of the hospital and called for help as loud as he could while he moved you out of the back. Carrying you inside he was met by a team of people rushing towards him with a bed. He lay you down gently and kept brushing your hair out of your face and taking in your features as he rolled off what had happened to the staff. 

“Please just save her.” he sobbed, the tears finally falling.

“We’ll try our best Mr Stokes but you’re going to have to wait here.” A tall nurse spoke

“You don’t understand. She means everything to me.”

“We understand. Please just sit down and call someone.” the Nurse tried to push him back from the moving bed.

Nick took your hand and placed a kiss on it as the tears streamed down his face and the team around you started prodding your skin with different needles to draw blood and inject other solutions into your system.

He entirely froze in place when he let go of your hand and it felt like his world came crashing down around him as you turned the corner and were out of his sight. 

Flopping in a chair he opened his phone to see missed calls from Greg and Grissom. Pressing some buttons with no real aim he realised he was dialling Greg, bringing his cellphone to his ear he heard the man calling his name.

“Greg?”

“Nick, what the hell is going on? It does not look good over here.”

“I’m at the hospital with Y/N.”

“I guessed as much. Is everything ok? The EMT’s arrived at the same time Sara, Catherine and I did.”

“She might not make it.” Nick tried to hold back his tears but the hurt and sadness was very much still in his voice. “Hannah-” he was cut off by some tears falling and he tried to compose himself to continue to Greg “Hannah attacked Y/N and injected her with God only knows what. I couldn’t wait.”

“Alright. Alright.” Greg’s tone had softened now and was less urgent. “You keep your mind on Y/N we’ll sort this out. I think Grissom was on his way to you. Look after her ok?”

“Yeah” his voice was wobbly and he brought his hand up to his eyes “I’ll keep you updated.”

Hanging up he leant all the way forward, crossed his arms over his lap and rested his head there and let out some more sobs. The uncertainty was killing him. He couldn’t bear to lose you.

He looked up when he heard someone walking down the corridor to him. He was only now realising that he’d picked a really quiet spot to sit down.

Nick was immediately on his feet as soon as he saw who it was, his phone fell on the floor but he didn’t care. He took a couple of steps forward and opened his arms to embrace the older man who had been a father figure to him for many years. 

“Pancho.” Grissom spoke sadly as he cradled Nick’s head and allowed him to cry.

“I can’t lose her.” Nick choked out.

“I know Nick, I know.” the man gently pulled away to see Nicks red eyes and tear tracks down his face. “Let's get you some water.”

Nick picked up his phone from the floor and allowed Grissom to lead the way. Grissom knew how much you meant to him and all he could do right now was be a shoulder to cry on because no one knew what the future held.

Next Chapter

Tag List: (open)

Nick Stokes: @wanniiieeee  @pumpkinfriend

CSI:

[hanahaki-with-me]

"Hanahaki || Johnlock"

~prologue~

Advisory detective, consultant, sociopath (or as he like called himself, highly functioning sociopath), genius, scientist, madman, or simply Sherlock Holmes. He had many names and names.

Those that hurt him, he hid deep within himself, not letting them get to the light of day; to people's lives, or rather their miserable, idiotic existence.

Freak, psychopath, liar, murderer.

This last insult was, of course, not true. He may have been insane, but he certainly didn't kill anyone (possibly seriously injured anyone).

The world hurt Holmes. Nobody ever taught him to love him. It was always only required of him. He was always the sillier and troublemaker child. Microft, his brother seven years his senior, knew about his problems, although Sherlock had never told anyone about them. He knew about drugs and saved him every time his little brother overdosed on them. Eurus. Sherlock did not remember his younger sister; he wiped it out of his mind.

The detective suffered in silence, in the nothingness of a world full of fools and idiots, he was drowned in the palace of memory, he was dying. He got rid of his emotions; at least the visible ones. He was glad inside, he cried inside, he lived inside and died inside. He kept telling himself that loneliness protected him. With time, he began to push away even love, explaining that he did not need it, and that he "disturbed the thinking process by blah blah blah ...". The detective grew indifferent; he looked through emotionless eyes. Thread. Just emptiness. He got lost in it a long time ago, unable to control it.

Greg, Gavin, or Graham (Sherlock never remembered his real name, although he had known him for a long time) Lestrde, a policeman, could even be called Sherlock's friend. But Anderson, the most irritating and idiotic man in the world. He was like a weed in Sherlock's mind backyard. Completely unnecessary to him and his outstanding deduction.

Sherlock got lost. He understood it a long time ago. And Microft only made him aware of it by asking a seemingly simple and rather average question.

"Everything's all right? " he didn't have to ask. After all he knew; he knew him all too well.

Sherlock paused, his thoughts drifted back to the mind palace. He walked through its empty corridors, opening individual room doors. After all, people were standing in one of the many halls. People who didn't believe him, even though he had proven them so many times that he wasn't lying. All faces turned to him. "Liar, murderer, freak, madman". The crowd chanted newer insults again and again. They were all terrible, they hurt; they were like thorns.

And then John. One of a kind, John Watson, stood in the center of the room. Sherlock's assistant, closest friend. When he was around, it had to be okay, right? Truth?! People moved aside to form a corridor at the other end of which was Dr. Watson. He was smiling, so Sherlock didn't hesitate a moment and walked over to his friend. He felt more than friendship for him. The detective loved him. He didn't want it, but he loved him.

Sherlock from the mind palace stood in front of John and smiled friendly and affectionate, though it seemed almost impossible. The doctor came closer, stood on tiptoe and just as he was about to kiss him...

"Freak. Did you really think I could love you? How can you love murder and psyhopath."

... these sentences rumbled in Sherlock's head and echoed through the endless corridors of the mind palace.

The detective stepped back sharply thereby losing his balance. He felt a slight twinge in his heart and an unmerciful burning sensation in his throat. Then he had quite a fit of coughing. Sherlock put his hand to his mouth, feeling something or someone want to come out of his mouth. He spat it out on his hand. It was a small white rose petal slightly stained with blood.

"Sherlock, SHERLOCK!" The detective opened his eyes to see Microft in front of them.

"I'm okay. All is well. It has to be" Sherlock said. But Microft knew nothing was right. Never was righat  with his little brother.

Sherlock got up, not waiting any longer for his brother's reply, and headed for the room. His face showed no unnecessary emotion other than indifference, and the painful pressure in his chest increased with each passing second. As soon as the door to his room closed behind him, he had a fit of coughing. Just like in the mind palace a moment ago. Again that strange, scratchy sensation in the throat and the feeling that something is persistently trying to get out of him.

So he did what he thought. He put his hand to his mouth and fell out of his mouth again...

...rose Flake. Same as in the memory palace; small, white, stained with blood. Sherlock knew what that meant.

He was terrified.

Full story on my wattpad: oh_im_the_devil

[two-sides-halved]

It seemed like all was going well, people were being evacuated from the town by Nanafua and other gems from Little Homeworld.

Rose was wearing Gem Steven's casual clothing, while headbanging to some really old rock music that Greg had on hand. He had figured she was distracted enough for him to slink away and use the bathroom.

Human Steven and Spinel emerged from the house, the words were muted and mumbled as the music played over them as the pair passed by, the track had soon ended.

Rose stretched out. "That was so fucking fun, Greg... If the world wasn't in danger, I would really like to stay longer." She paused and looked around seeing as Greg was no longer by her side. She hopped out of the van curious as to where that funny little musically talented human went off to... he soon wandered from the house back up toward where the injector was, her eyes had zeroed in on Human Steven and Spinel talking yet Spinel didn't look like the bubbly self she had been nearly all day, she was taller, she was spiker, she looked dangerous. Rose had that spark of worry, and of course taking her sword she leapt into action without a second thought.

However, while Human Steven was talking with Spinel, he didn't get enough time to react or to stop Rose from slicing her in half in front of him. Rose looked over worry in her eyes. "Are you ok? She didn't hurt you, did she?"

Human Steven twitched, looking at Spinel's gem then looked at Rose's worried face, and his immediate reaction was anger, and lost of it, like finally a dam had broken after all these years. "OK? OK?? I WAS THIS CLOSE TO FIXING THIS WHOLE MESS!!"

Rose seemed surprised by the other's volume. Human Steven continued, "I AM SO SICK AND TIRED OF YEARS OF YOU AND THE GEMS ALWAYS PUTTING ME IN THE SIDELINES BECAUSE YOU ALL HAVE THE POWERS AND YOU ALL THINK I'M SO GOD DAMN FRAGILE. I AM NOT THAT SICK LITTLE KID ANY MORE. I HAD TO DEAL WITH THIS WHOLE MESS BY MYSELF WITHOUT THE GEMS,... WITHOUT MY BROTHER AND NOW, YOU THINK YOU'RE HELPING BY POOFING THE ONLY PERSON, WHO COULD HAVE REVERSED THIS WHOLE MESS!" Human Steven yelled back his cheeks glowing a slight pink, his eyes changing to pink with white star shaped pupils.

"OH WAIT, I FORGOT YOU DON'T THINK BEFORE YOU ACT, YOU NEVER HAVE... YOU JUST DO WHAT YOU WANT ALL THE TIME AND THE GEMS JUST LET YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE A DIAMOND AND THEY COULDN'T POSSIBLY SAY NO TO YOU..." Human Steven huffed, some tears falling from his cheeks, landing on the dying ground and making roots that grabbed around his ankle.

"Why don't you just leave? I can handle this mess, besides my brother and I have always had to deal with cleaning up every mess you made... why should now be any different?" His voice was uncharacteristically dark, cold and distant.

Rose was quiet before she turned away from him to leave him with dealing with Gem she thought was danerous... she traveled slow as she reflected on what had happened, pausing to turn around to see if Human Steven was still upset with her.

Human Steven was turned away from her, his eyes following Spinel's gem as it reformed on front of him. He started with an apology for Rose's actions explaining that it was only an accident and that she didn't know any better. However, Spinel wasn't so easily swayed this time around, she barked back with theories about how he just wanted to use her to fix the damage the injector caused and then poof her again and send her away again to be all alone again!

Human Steven tried to get her to see reason, only for her to kick him in the face, and bounce onto the top of the injector. Rose was watching this interaction go on, a thought came to mind of how she should help him, but then she remembered how he had yelled at her for helping before... that she would only make it worse.

But something had sparked in Rose's mind seeing the pink glowing goo, the sparkle of the gem in the distance and Human Steven struggling to move. It flashed part of their childhood in their mind, specifically their fight against a Corrupted Nephrite.

Rose's gem glowed and she ran back at human Steven at full speed, her form glowing entirely pink before Gem Steven formed back in his proper form before tackling his brother out of the way and forming Steven Squared once again.

The fusion having a brief moment of glee as they realized that Gem Steven was back to being himself again before they summoned a shield to protect them from the explosion of goo that was terraforming the landscape, sitting on the water like a thick oil, melting the terrain.

Then it all went down hill from there. The two began fighting, only for Steven Squared to keep getting his ass handed to him, over and over again before Connie had joined in the fight. Things looked up until Connie was sliced in half in front of the fusion.

That sinister bone chilling laugh was in the air. It even sounded like it was doubled. It was all going wrong... Steven Squared was being mocked for his feelings over what Spinel had called another meaningless broken toy and the fusion's tears had caused a cacoon of vines to envelope the fusion while Spinel continued to laugh and laugh.

Meanwhile, the real Gem Steven was fighting off the mental manifestation of all his guilt of what happened to Earth, he looked like he was still going through the ringer, his skin a dark pink, his wings and horns fully sprouted it had looked far worse than it did on the surface. The horrid cackling of this gem was echoing through out his mind, cracking the ground more and more around him.

Raspberry Tart couldn't focus past all the negative energy that was concentrated into this one moment of the memory. A loud beastial ROAR was heard breaking through all the laughter as the cocooned figure broke through its bonds, revealing Mega Steven.

"Yea, yea, that's understandable, Classic's the same way." Raspberry Tart replied. "Granted Classic has never seen him poof before, he'd probably have the same thoughts in his little teen brain."

Raspberry Tart looked over, "I'm glad you'll try to not get so panicky about seeing Pink, but remember she's only gonna be like this until the concert later in the memory... then you'll get to see Rose... who I'd think you're probably have the same ammount of problems with...." he sighed. "I'll stay by your side ok..."

[snarkwrites]

ssw | embry call ; let me take care of you.

NOTES:

As I said yesterday... I’m going to break down the list of prompts I originally intended to use for just one one-shot into a few different ones for this because I just felt like the first one flowed so well using only the one... This is the second part to the one shot I posted yesterday. And there will be at least a few more parts after this. I can’t say when they’ll be coming, but I can say they will be coming eventually.

Again, same as yesterday.. I am not a medical professional. Nor have I ever had amnesia of any kind. I’m trying my best with this, so apologies if it doesn’t seem realistic or whatever...If it matters/bothers anyone, that is.

Question though.. Would anyone be interested in at least one part of this being written in his point of view? Because I feel like it’d be interesting to write that way... It’d be third person..

PROMPTS:

Taken from [ here ] or [ here ]. The prompt used for inspiration here was obviously, Let me take care of you.

FANDOM / CHARACTER:

Twilight / Embry Call x Imprint!OFC, Merisa.

OTHER WORKS EMBRY & MERISA ARE FOUND IN:

[ he looks down. she looks up. ] 

WARNINGS:

amnesia tw, vague injuries mentioned tw, just gonna say her current soon to be ex boyfriend is an actual piece of garbage so.. yeah.. Sexual tension. Beyond all these, there’s not really anything else I can think of.

TAGGING:

@kyleoreillysknee​  is the only one currently on my Twilight taglist. If you see this and you’d like to be tagged also, add yourself to the doc below or lmk. It’ll make me super happy.

OTHER STUFF:

[ faq | request rules | sfw masterlist | tag list doc ]

The phone rang, shattering the silence and my train of thought. Okay, so it wasn’t a train of thought because I was more or less staring out the window of my grandmother’s living room and watching Embry Call work on my grandmother’s old car out in the driveway, but.. The phone was a distraction I didn’t want.

I grumbled when it didn’t go quiet. And after a few more seconds I’d had all I could take of the high pitched sound in all it’s annoying glory. I sprang up from the couch gingerly, grabbing up the remote to pause the true crime documentary I’d been engrossed in about Richard Ramirez and I hobbled into the kitchen, wincing every step of the way.

A scowl filled my face and I tensed up just as soon as I picked up and I heard Greg on the other end of the line. Upon hearing his voice, all sorts of unpleasant memories came rushing back. It was too much. 

“Merisa?”

“What, Greg?” I snapped. Impatient. Peering out my grandma’s living room window. Biting my bottom lip as I watched Embry tug the stained tank top he was wearing up over his head and wipe at sweat on his forehead with it before tossing it on the concrete slab next to his open toolbox.

“I asked you a question.” Greg cleared his throat expectantly.

Is it bad that I was so caught up in watching Embry do mechanic things outside that I didn’t even attempt to make an effort to listen to a damn word Greg said? Because this is exactly what happened.

“I wasn’t listening.”

Greg gave an annoyed huff at my honest answer and I rolled my eyes. Grumbling. The crackle of static over the phone line breaking through for a second or two. Whether I asked for him to repeat himself or not didn’t matter at all because Greg went on and asked his question again anyway.

“I said don’t you think you should be planning to return to Seattle soon? You were only supposed to be gone for a few days. It’s been nearly four weeks.” Greg stated. Pausing for a minute to grumble to himself about how this was typical of me, telling him one thing and then doing something entirely different.

And I snapped.

“Does the fact that I nearly died three and a half weeks ago just not mean anything to you at all or..?” I snarled, going quiet for a second or two. Determined to stay calm. But exploding felt so damn satisfying. It was hard to resist. I got the feeling that I spent 90 percent of my time around Greg biting my tongue and that had me wondering why. What did this guy have that kept me with him? The more I wondered about it, the harder it was to come up with any real sort of answer.

“Sorry. I should know better than to ask questions I already know the answer to.” I apologized. In my own petty way, of course.

Greg took my apology as sincerity and he sighed. Disappointed, obviously because I wasn’t there to tend to his every stupid whim. “I’m sorry too, it’s just.. I told you we had plans. You know how important this weekend is to me and the fact that you’re not even trying to come back… I’m just disappointed, sweetheart. That’s all.”

,, well excuse the fuck out of me for grieving. excuse me for loving my mother enough to want to go to her funeral. Excuse me for nearly dying and needing to heal and getting in the way of your precious plans,asshole.” I wanted to say it so badly that I had to bite the insides of my cheeks and ball my hands into fists just to keep it in. I sighed. “Instead of making this harder than it has to be, you could actually be a caring boyfriend and come to make sure I’m okay… I mean.. I am dealing with memory loss and injuries...”

Surprise, surprise. He suddenly had a thousand excuses as to why he couldn’t -and wouldn’t, just do that. And my stomach churned. Did he even give a shit? Why was I still wasting my time? Why had I even bothered answering the phone in the first place this time?

I made up my mind right then. As soon as I got off the phone with him, I was going to block him on all socials. I was going to block his number on my cell phone. And if I saw his name on my grandmother’s caller ID when the phone rang, I was just going to walk out of the room.

“I’ve gotta go.” I muttered. Before Greg could say anything else,  I hung up the phone angrily. Slamming it down on it’s cradle.

From the doorway, Embry cleared his throat and stepped into the living room. “Trouble in paradise?”

“If that’s what paradise is I’d hate to imagine hell.” I flopped back on the couch dramatically. Wincing when yes, it still hurts to move certain ways. Or too much at once. 

Embry sat down in my grandmother’s recliner. Staring intently at the television which was paused on the clubhouse scene from Dirty Dancing.

I grabbed my cell phone from the end table and did exactly what I made up my mind to do. Blocking Greg on every single one of my socials. And out of pettiness, I changed my relationship status on Instagram to single.

He’d never even bothered to change his, if memory serves. Why had I changed mine?

There was still so much I had left to fill in as far as my memory gaps, but it was coming back in leaps and bounds. Something told me that the last thing I needed to have done was return to Seattle. Otherwise, I might not have ever remembered or  even realized to begin with, what kind of man I was involved with because I’m pretty sure that Greg wouldn’t have started to really show his true self.

He’d done a pretty fair job of hiding just how controlling and easily irritated by the slightest inconvenience he really was so far, I mean, I hadn’t dropped his ass.

I smirked in satisfaction as I put down my phone. 

I happened to glance over at Embry to find him staring at me. Like he wanted to say something or he was lost in thought. Before I could help myself, I was staring right back. Getting pulled into the depths of his eyes. Eventually dropping my gaze down. Lingering on his mouth when he licked his lips.

I couldn’t stop staring. This was starting to become habit whenever he was around. Especially if he wasn’t paying attention so I knew I could stare to my hearts content and get away with it.

I stood and cleared my throat. “I’m gonna go get myself some lemonade. Do you want anything?” I asked as I walked over to the doorway leading into the kitchen.

“If there are any more bottled waters?” Embry asked hopefully. I smiled and gave him a thumbs up. And as soon as I was in the kitchen, I leaned against the fridge. Fanning myself with one of my grandmother’s magazines that happened to be sitting on the counter.

After I managed to pull myself together just a little bit, I grabbed a bottled water for Embry and I poured myself a glass of lemonade. And when I turned to walk back into the living room, I found myself body to body with Embry as he stepped into the doorway between the two rooms.

My thighs clenched just a little at the way it felt to be pressed against him. Hard muscles against my own softness. For a second, when I opened my mouth to tell him I’d gotten his water like he asked for, the words hung in my throat.

Finally, I managed to get it out. “Your water, sir.” I held out the water bottle to him and after holding it against the back of his neck for a few seconds, he uncapped it, practically swallowing down half the bottle in one gulp.

Eyes locked on me the entire time. I know this because I’ll be damned if I could stop staring at him either. I tried. And failed.

He cleared his throat.

“Oh, right.. You probably wanted to wash your hands…” I stepped out of the doorway, pouting to myself a little because the second physical contact was broken, I missed the feel of his body against mine.

He walked over to the sink. Turning it on. Washing his hands. And I happened to notice he had a few busted knuckles.

“You need those sanitized. C’mere.” I nodded to the stool on the other side of the counter. Embry shrugged. Muttered that it wasn’t a big deal.

“It’s called infection setting in. And it can happen.” I insisted, nodding to the stool again. When he shook his head and took another sip of water and calmly insisted that he was fine, I shook my head and hobbled over. Grabbing hold of the hand that wasn’t injured. Leading him to the stool. “Sit.”

“Okay, alright. You know, you’re a lot bossier than I remember.” Embry muttered, gazing down at me. Even sitting down he was still taller. Bigger.

I stuck out my tongue at him. “If it keeps you from getting a nasty infection in your hand, I’ll take it.” I muttered. My gaze settling on him. Instantly getting sucked right back into those deep brown eyes and lost.

After a second or two of both of us staring at each other yet again, I cleared my throat. “I should go find the first aid kit.”

“It’s under the sink.” Embry answered quietly. I bit my lip. Nodding as I muttered mostly to myself, “Under the sink.” and turned away to get it.

“You don’t have to do this. I’m telling you, it’s fine. I deal with this all the time. Kind of happens when you work at a garage, Merisa…” Embry trailed off as I glanced back at him and stated in a firmer tone, “Let me take care of you, okay?”

I grabbed the bottle of peroxide and a rag. Sitting on the stool adjacent to his. Grabbing hold of his hand and placing it in my lap.

“You have tiny hands.” Embry muttered, almost sounding dazed. I glanced up at him through a curtain of hair as it fell right into my face because I bent my head just a little to see his hand better. I swallowed hard. Trying not to think of how good it felt to have his hand in mine. Or on my body.

When I exhaled, it was shaky.

That had me raising a brow.

If this man had one tenth of a clue just what he stirred up in me, I swear to God…

He jumped as the peroxide made contact with the open wounds, bubbling and fizzing as it cleaned the wounds out. 

A memory came back to me… I was younger. Probably around five. My grandmother sat on the stool Embry currently sat on and I sat on the stool I was currently sitting on. My leg was in her lap and she was dabbing some red liquid on it that burned like the fire of ten thousand hells. I was crying and trying to jerk my leg away, but my grandma just held onto it. And when she finished, she leaned in… Blowing gently on my injured knee. 

As the bubbling started to slow down, I raised Embry’s hand, leaning down. Blowing on the knuckles a little. Glancing up at him and teasing playfully, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I’ve felt worse.” he finally mumbled after we’d been locked in a quiet staredown for what felt like minutes instead of seconds. 

It sank in that I was still holding onto his hand. And he wasn’t making an effort to pull his hand away, either.

My grandmother cleared her throat from the doorway and smirked at the two of us playfully as she came in, sitting groceries on the counter. “Am I interrupting something, Merisa?”

“No, not at all.” I answered. Smiling. Letting go of Embry’s hand as my cheeks burned. I felt like a teenager just walked in on by her parents.

Embry slid off the stool and brushed his hands over his jeans. “I need to get back to it.” he muttered. Hurrying out of the house. As soon as the screen door banged shut behind him, I let out a ragged breath. Fanning myself with the magazine again.

Trying to ignore the look I was getting from my grandmother.

When she couldn’t resist any longer, she spoke up. “He’s single.. If you’re wondering.”

“Grandma!” I laughed out, shaking my head. My gaze lingering on the window. Fixed on him.

My grandmother spoke up again. “It’s been so nice having you here, Mermaid… It’ll be a shame to see you go.”

Before I really stopped to think about it, I replied “ Honestly? I’m tempted to stay.”

My grandmother pulled me into a tight hug. Smiling at me as the hug broke. “I won’t stop you. The decision is yours.”

I nodded. Waiting until she was in the other room with one of her soap operas going full blast before I wandered back over to the window that faced where Embry currently was outside. Staring out at him with my fingertips pressed against the glass.

I thought he’d caught me one time because he stopped what he was doing beneath the hood of the car to glance around the yard. I moved away from the window quickly, shaking my head and laughing at myself about it.

I’ll repeat. If Embry Call had one tenth of a clue the effect he had on me...

[lovecolibri]

In hindsight the Kylex scene in 3x01 is so weird because yeah Michael doesn't come up by name but neither does Forrest. Alex just talks about wanting to ride off into the sunset with a boy which basically means he wants to be happy. It isn't necessarily meant to be taken literally. You could say it was left intentionally ambiguous and that Alex was actually thinking of Michael there. If he hadn't explicitly also said his heart was telling him no to joining, which is what implies Forrest, the scene could have worked as Malex foreshadowing. But once again we got Carina logic so nothing makes sense. It's almost like there was a cut Malex or Alex/Greg scene between the Kylex bar scene and Alex at the bus stop that reminded him which boy he wants to ride off into the sunset with and then staying behind makes sense as Alex fighting to be with Michael. Otherwise, why do the exact opposite of what he said he wanted 5 minutes ago? What changed? I always thought it was weird that a season premiere that serves to set up the big relationship arcs wouldn't give us a mutual pov for Malex that was clearly going canon this season (even S2 gave us that much in 2x01) but that's obviously pure speculation on my part.

Yeah, I took the scene as more ambiguous when it aired, and Alex finally being at a place in his life where he can consider just looking at a future of being happy. But now in the context of 3x08, that would have been the perfect time to bring up Michael! Or at literally any point before now because having Alex say he joined Deep Sky for Michael without giving the audience any lead up to that reveal this season is ridiculous. I mean, we all guessed Alex was at least considering keeping Michael safe when he made that choice because we are immersed in the fandom and have consumed a million metas about Alex and this thought process and motivations. I had a few anons who weren't in the fandom who honestly thought Malex was over with after everything last season and getting next to nothing this season. My eternal mantra this season is that you shouldn't have to be this deep into the fandom and the actor's twitter feeds and interviews to understand a character's motivations for doing something. Little things like Alex mentioning Michael literally at all this season when talking to Kyle or Greg, or having him looking at a picture of Michael before he gets out to do the Deep Sky interview could have gone such a long way. The one Michael also has of them as teens in the desert maybe? Perhaps a copy that's more worn and frayed and folded looking that implies Alex carried it with him all these years? It doesn't have to be some grand monologue that Alex gives, just that little blip of a moment would have been a clear signal to the audience of Alex's motivations and what he's thinking. Him telling Kyle he considered leaving but, and then pausing and Kyle filling in the blank "But Michael is here", and Alex just sighing. Even saying something like "That doesn't matter now, he's- *sigh* anyway, Deep Sky might know something and I need to know what it is". That would tell us that Alex thinks Michael doesn't want him anymore (which flipping TRACKS after last season) while we JUST saw Michael showing up to meet Alex coming home. That builds tension, that gets fans excited to watch to see how their first interaction is going to go, to be dying to see when they both figure out that the other thinks they don't want them anymore.

The set up for this big Malex moment was so unearned and underdelivered by the writers it's actually insulting. To the fans, to the work Tyler and Vlamis have done and continue to do so well for these characters, and to Michael and Alex who have fought through hell to get here and SHOULD have been here two years ago only to have the writing skip past their development, and for what?

Good thing Tyler and Vlamis can deliver the heat in their scenes because that's the only thing that even kind of salvaged that mess.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch8: Adler vs Adler

Chapter Summary: The gloves are off in court as Frank faces off against his mother.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Talk of suicide.

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Contains SPOILERS for the film!!!!! If you haven’t seen it please be aware of that before you read on. Also, those of you who do know this film well will see that I’ve changed the dates referenced in the court case, that’s because I brought the timeline of Gifted forward from 2015 (when it was filmed) to 2017 (when it was released). This was mainly to suit Fliss’ backstory of the Olympics. 2015 is too close to 2012 for me to make it work. Also Frank’s middle name is an absolute H/C too as I couldn’t find it anywhere so, sorry if this annoys any of you but, to quote @icanfeelastormbrewing- “my coffee, my fic, my rules…”

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 7

“And love, if your wings are broken, borrow mine so yours can open too…’cause I’m gonna stand by you”

 The first bit of evidence the next morning was the findings of the Welfare Department’s investigation. It had thrown nothing out of the ordinary up. The house was clean enough, Mary was fed, but they did point out that their current living arrangements wouldn’t be suitable for much longer as Mary would need her own room as she grew older, something which Frank’s attorney accepted on behalf of Frank, stating to the court that Frank had already considered this. Which in fairness he had. The Welfare Department continued then, stating that Mary’s interview the previous day hadn’t thrown up anything of concern, even if there were some questionable TV viewing habits, namely Ultimate Fighting on a Saturday night, but they were satisfied that overall Mary was suffering no ill effects, mentally or physically from being with Frank.

This took them just under an hour, as they were factual reports. Both Attorney’s requested clarification on certain points but there were no questions or cross examinations to be done. As such they had concluded just after eleven am and there was then a small ten minute break to allow a quick consultation between clients and attorney’s before Evelyn was to take to the stand. As people moved around, passing papers and files to one another, Frank turned in his seat and just as he glanced round, someone left the courtroom and through the open door Fliss walked in, dressed in a smart pair of black jeans and a light blue strappy top. He flashed her a smile and she gave a small wave, settling onto a seat next to Roberta who gave her a hug. She’d missed the early session due to having to sort the horses out but she’d cleared her diary and brought in cover for the rest of the day so she could be there to lend him support.

And even though the morning had, all in all, been favourable to him, Frank felt his spirits raise even more at the sight of her there in his corner so to speak. Tearing his eyes away from her, Frankturned back to Greg who was watching him, eyebrow raised.

“Well that’s a mighty big smile Frank.”

“I just spotted some additional back up, that’s all.” Greg turned to see the woman who was now talking to Roberta and he grinned, spinning back to Frank “Let me guess, Fliss?”

Frank nodded “Yeah, I’ll introduce you later.”

Greg raised his eyebrow, smiling a little. “I look forward to it. Anyway, back to business. That opening report from the Welfare Department was good, well as good as it’s gonna get. But dude, Ultimate Fighting? Really?”

“It’s harmless fun.” Frank shrugged

Greg shook his head “Whatever. This next bit ain’t gonna be as easy.” “No shit.” Frank mumbled, looking at his mother as she said something to Highsmith, her attorney. “She’s going to rip me to pieces, and no doubt enjoy doing it too.” “Yep.” Greg nodded “But just keep doing what you’re doing. No outbursts, stay quiet, focussed and listen. If she says something that isn’t accurate, or you think of anything we can use, note it down and I’ll use it in my cross examination, okay?” Frank nodded as Judge Nicholls banged his gavel down and issued instructions for everyone to reconvene. He called Evelyn to the stand where she was sworn in and Highsmith stood up and began firing questions at her, a well-practiced dance, Frank could tell.

From the gallery Fliss watched intently. She’d been missed the first session but Roberta had hastily filled her in, telling her it had gone well. She shot Frank another encouraging smile, just as the judge called them back to order, and couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in his suit. A far cry from his dirty jeans and ratty work t-shirts. Which, if she was honest, she preferred…

Evelyn took to the stand and Fliss felt herself bristling as she proceeded to utterly character assassinate Frank, depicting him as nothing more than an irresponsible bum, floating around with no purpose to life, a man who didn’t care about Mary’s welfare, preferring to simply fly by the seat of his pants instead of giving her any decent roots or thoughts to her needs. At one point, they started to question his motivations towards taking Mary being more about punishing Evelyn that actually caring about the girl. To this Frank’s attorney objected and as the two lawyers began to argue, Fliss found her nails cutting into her palms as she clenched her fists. Roberta gently reached out and squeezed her arm and she turned to the woman next to her and gave her a tight smile.

“Frank’s attorney, Greg Cullen, he’s good…” Roberta whispered, “He’ll go at her when he gets his chance, you’ll see.”

The objection was overruled, the judge telling Cullen he would get his chance to challenge that statement in his cross examination, and Cullen sat down, leaning over to whisper something to Frank who nodded, his eyes not once leaving his mother. Cullen jotted something down as Evelyn continued.

By the time she finished it was almost one pm so they broke for lunch, Judge Nicholls instructing everyone to be back in an hour. Fliss and Roberta headed outside to wait for Frank who met them shortly after.

“Hey.” Fliss gave him a gentle hug. “How you holding up?”

“About as well as I can for someone whose own mother just tore them to shreds under oath.” Fliss’ eyes narrowed “I hope your guy is gonna give her as much of a shredding as she gave you.” “I’ll do my best.” A voice spoke from behind them. Fliss spun round to be greeted by Frank’s attorney.

“Fliss, this is Greg Cullen, Greg, Fliss Gallagher.” Frank introduced them to one another. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Greg smiled at her, shaking her hand. Fliss looked up at Frank and was surprised to find a faint flush of red on his cheeks.

“All good I hope?” she grimaced and Cullen nodded.

“Oh, very good indeed. I’ve been dying to meet the woman who’s made such an impression on him.” “Greg, piss off.” Frank groaned in a tired voice before he nodded over the road to the café “Shall we grab some lunch?”

They ate together, making small talk, before Greg requested Frank join him alone for fifteen minutes to go over their plan for the rest of the afternoon. Frank stood, and without even thinking about it gave Fliss a quick peck on the cheek. He winced as soon as he had, noticing that Cullen and Roberta were watching him and, knowing Fliss was going to get an absolute drilling from Roberta, he shot her an apologetic look as he walked away. She simply smiled through her blush and shook her head, turning to Roberta who nudged her arm.

“Okay, what was that?” Greg asked as they walked back over the road. “Are you two erm…”

“It’s complicated.” Frank shrugged after a little pause. “We both, well we both like each other but with everything that’s going on we’re just kind of waiting, I suppose. I’m focussing on getting through whatever it is that happens with Mary and then hopefully...what?” he trailed off as Greg was smirking at him.

“Frank Adler. Finally found a girl he likes that much he ain’t simply trying to get her into bed. Wait till I tell the guys.”

Frank rolled his eyes and pointed to the courtroom “How about you concentrate on what’s gonna go on in there instead of what is or isn’t going on in my bedroom?”

Greg gave out a chuckle and patted his friend on the shoulder as they made their way in and headed into the side room they had reserved.

****

“Mrs. Adler, in your earlier testimony here today, you painted a pretty dim picture of your own son don't you think?” Cullen asked, tapping his pen on his note pad. Frank remained stony faced, watching his mother.

“I'm under oath, I take no pleasure in it.” She said with a glance at Frank before she looked down, almost convincingly.

Frank just about managed to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“So, your son is a failure in life, your daughter took her life, you know, you're oh for two.”

Fliss winced and glanced at Roberta as Highsmith said “Objection” in an almost bored voice

“Withdrawn.” Cullen’s voice took on an amused edge but as Fliss watched as Evelyn simply eyed him, completely un-phased.

“If I go one for three, I'm in the Hall of Fame.” she shot back.

“You know baseball.” Cullen pushed his chair back. “Fenway Park.”

At that something flickered in Evelyn’s eye as she glanced at Frank. Fliss followed her gaze and watched, just able to see the side of Frank’s face. His eyes were locked onto her, his expression never faltering.

“You know, I'd like to go there sometime.” Cullen stood up, pushing his glasses up onto his head as Evelyn turned back to him “How often in a year did you take Diane to the baseball game?”

“Diane wasn't interested in sports.” Evelyn replied

“She never wanted to go to a game? Ever?”

“I don't recall her ever asking.”

Cullen moved forwards a step and Fliss saw Frank’s eyes flick to him as he continued to question his mother.

“Just out of curiosity, Fenway, that's a tough ticket. Where do you get yours?”

“My husband has season tickets.”

“And how long has he had them?” Cullen enquired

“Thirty years. But I've only been married to him for twenty.” Evelyn informed him.

“And Diane never went to one game?”

Evelyn didn’t reply, simply raised her eyebrows slightly as if she was failing to see the point. Fliss’ eyes once again flicked to Frank who still hadn’t moved an inch.

“What colour was the dress Diane wore to prom?” Cullen changed his line of questions.

“Diane didn't attend the prom, because she didn't attend the high school.” Evelyn replied calmly

“No prom.” Cullen mused before he asked suddenly.“What sports did she play?”

“As I told you earlier, she wasn't interested in sports.”

“She’s calm.” Roberta whispered to Fliss as Cullen continued to question Evelyn about Diane’s lack of interaction with other children her age.

“Too calm.” Fliss nodded. “But I can see what he’s doing, trying to paint a picture of how she isolated Diane to imply that she’d do the same to Mary. You’re right, he’s good.”

As they tuned back into the examination again, Cullen took a deep breath and glanced to his left

“Mrs. Adler,” he looked back at her, “who's Paul Riva?”

At that Evelyn glanced at Frank, her calm mask slipping ever so slightly but still Frank didn’t move. Fliss could see his expression now carried a faint, and every so sad, smile.

Evelyn gave a silent huff before she looked back at Cullen “He was a boy from the neighbourhood.”

Her tone was clipped and Fliss noticed the judge sit forward slightly at her shift in attitude, narrowing his eyes a little as he watched her curiously.

“Oh, come on. He was much more than just a boy from the neighbourhood.  Paul was Diane's first love. Wasn't he?” Cullen asked.

Fliss and Roberta exchanged a glance.

“I wouldn't characterize it that way, no.” Evelyn shook her head.

“And how would Diane characterize it?”

“Diane was seventeen years old at the time. She didn't know anything about love.”

At that Fliss caught the first movement Frank had made since his mother had started talking. He took a deep breath and looked to his left before turning back, his shoulders moving slightly in frustration as he shook his head slightly, his eyes locking back onto his mother who was carefully avoiding his gaze.

“Mrs. Adler, in January 2000 didn't Diane and young Mr. Riva run away together?” Cullen looked at her.

“He coerced her.” Evelyn corrected with the air of someone picking her words carefully.

“And where did they go?”

“Vermont.”

“And you called the police, didn't you?” Cullen stated rather than asked.

“Yes.”

“Because he kidnapped her?”

“Yes”

“And where did the police find young Mr. Riva and Diane?” Cullen looked at Evelyn

“I told you, Vermont.” Evelyn looked at Cullen, her voice suddenly taking on an icy edge which made Fliss lean forward slightly.

“Stowe, Vermont. Wasn't it? A resort town.” Cullen looked round the court room as Evelyn shifted uncomfortably. “Stowe Mountain. He took her skiing. You see, kidnappers don't usually take their victims skiing.” Cullen paused from his explanation. When he spoke again his voice was calm, and slow, stressing the point perfectly “But this is what Paul did because he and Diane were in love.”

“No.” Evelyn refuted firmly

“And when they returned, you pressed kidnapping charges.” Cullen’s voice rose in volume and speed as he spoke. “You filed a lawsuit against his parents, until Paul stopped calling Diane. Didn't you?”

“Yes.”

“And Diane never heard of or saw Paul Riva again. Did she?” Cullen’s tone was harsh, accusatory as he stared at Evelyn.

“Poor girl.” Roberta mumbled besides her and Fliss shook her head, in utter shock at how a mother could be so damned cruel and out of touch with her own daughter. It made her feel a pang of sympathy for Mary’s mother despite never having known her. Fliss couldn’t imagine what she would do without either of her parents being as supportive as they were.

Evelyn must have answered as by the time Fliss turned her attention fully to what she was saying, as Cullen had asked another question.

“And how did she take it?”

“She was upset for a while. She lost focus.”

“She lost focus.” Cullen turned back to the desk and picked up a small file. “Mrs. Adler,” he turned back, file in hand, “in March of 2001 didn't Diane Adler attempt to take her own life?”

“This episode was minor. It was nothing.” Evelyn replied, her tone harsh.

“Nothing?” Fliss drew in a breath, shaking her head. For a moment she almost lost herself in another memory, of one rainy afternoon in Boston in October 2015, but she took a deep breath and focussed on where she was, as Cullen flashed the file at Evelyn.

“I have the hospital report in my hand.” he informed her

“It was nothing.” Evelyn said again, and now Fliss could see she was rattled. “Diane was not like regular people. She was extraordinary. And extraordinary people come with singular issues and needs.”

Fliss watched as Evelyn leant forward, her face creased in anger as she hissed “You have no idea of the capability she possessed. One in a billion. And you would say fine, let's throw that away, so the boy who cuts our yard can make a sexual conquest? Well maybe before you make that decision, you stand in my shoes. I had responsibilities, which went beyond the mother-daughter relationship.”

She took a deep breath and spoke again, her voice louder this time “The greatest discoveries, which have proved life on this planet have come from minds rarer than radium. Without them, we'd still be crawling in mud. And for your information, counsellor, a year after this incident with this boy Diane thanked me for my intervention. She realized she'd made a mistake and she thanked me. You see, Diane understood. She was accountable for the gift she'd been given. And she didn't shy from it.”

Every inch of Evelyn’s face was contorted with a mixture of pain and anger, and she radiated absolute fury across the courtroom as her rant built to its climax

“And I think, if she were here today, Mr. Attorney, she would refute your baseless insinuations, that she would give up her brilliant future and take her own life just because mummy didn't get her a little red wagon

There was a pause as she took a breath and sat back.

“No more questions.” Cullen said simply, turning back to his seat.

Fliss watched Frank who shifted, rubbing his chin with his left hand, his fingers curling round his jaw in an L shape as he stared at this mother, his face completely unreadable to anyone who didn’t know him, but to her she could see the pain in his eyes.

And from the look Evelyn gave him, it was obvious she’d seen it too.

***** When Mary returned home on the school bus that afternoon, Frank did his best to remain positive and keep his broodings to himself, and was thankful when Fliss suggested they head out for dinner with Roberta. The four of them went to the same restaurant he had met his mother at not long before where he ate, not really tasting his food, or listening as Fliss and Roberta chatted away. Instead his attention was completely on Mary who was stood with one of the waitresses at another table, pouring sand out of one of the bottles that was used to keep the tablecloths from blowing away. The thought that she could be without such simple pleasure of looking through sand for shells, and lost to a world of pressure and solitude like Diane had been, was breaking his heart.

He felt someone squeeze his hand at the same time Mary held up a shell and showed it to him. He took a deep breath and tried to rearrange his face into a smile as he turned to face Fliss.

“It’s going to be okay, Frank.” She looked at him and he swallowed, unable to form his words. Instead his fingers tightened around hers and she simply held his hand whilst they finished up their drinks.

Later that evening, once Mary was asleep inside the apartment, Frank and Fliss sat outside the kitchen door, shoulder to shoulder along the top step.

“You know, until I met you I thought sitting on a porch drinking beer was something only red necked hillbillies did.” Fliss teased him.

“Well, according to my mother that’s what I am.” he scoffed.

“And according to me your mother is a callous, cold hearted bitch.” Fliss spat, with such venom it made Frank look at her, his eyebrow raising a little. She took a deep breath, her voice softening “How can anyone dismiss a suicide attempt as nothing.”

Frank looked away, taking a pull from his beer. They sat in silence for a moment before Fliss broke it.

“You know back in 2015, about five months after I’d gotten married, I almost did it you know? Killed myself.”

Frank’s head turned to face her. She wasn’t looking at him, instead she remained focussed on a spot in the distance as she stared straight ahead. “My life was out of my control, and it was the only way I could think of getting some of that control back. So I took a shit load of buproprion and washed it down with half a litre of vodka.”

“Shit, Lissy I’m sorry, I had-” She waved his sympathy off and continued “After that I was offered all this help and support and-” she snorted bitterly, “I still went back to him. He convinced everyone, including me that the issue was the fact that I was still brooding over my career being cut so short, and then told me that having a kid would fix the issue. In reality there was no issue to fix. I wasn’t depressed as such, I was abused. And that was simply another way of him taking control.”

After a moment she turned to look at him, “I’m not saying your mother abused Diane, not as such but she isolated her for her own, selfish reasons, no matter how she tries to dress them up or convince herself that it was for Diane’s own good. That first suicide attempt your sister would have made a normal, loving parent sit up and pay attention to what was going on. I know it did mine, as Bill never trusted John’s explanation, not one word.” “I should have done more too.” Frank’s voice was choked as he looked down at his feet. “But I was so busy, wrapped up in my finals and…”

“Frank, Diane wasn’t your responsibility, you’re not her parent.”

“No but when Dad died, I promised I’d take care of her, always be there for her. I should have done more, and I should have known, when she turned up that day at mine with Mary…”

“Frankie.” Fliss cut him off, her hand taking his. “Take it from me, my mum and dad and brother went through all of this in their head. Did Diane give you any warnings at all because I know I didn’t?  Look at the lies and the world of fantasy I let John build up round me and detract from what was going on. I told nobody I was gonna do it Frank. And I told no body why I did it either.”

Frank sniffed and wiped at his nose slightly with his free hand.

“So you can either carry on beating yourself up over something that isn’t your fault or you can concentrate on getting the best outcome here for Mary.”

He reached for his beer which was on the step below him between his legs and nodded. She was right, he knew she was, but there would always be that part of him that wondered if he could have done more, it he should have done more.

“Are you planning on coming tomorrow?” he asked, looking at Fliss.

“Yeah, Joanne is covering again.”

“I don’t want to put you out.” he said gently, but she shook her head.

“It’s sorted.” Fliss smiled. “She wants the week of Thanksgiving off so she’s racking up the favours.”

“Well, from a purely selfish standpoint I’m glad.” He flexed his fingers against hers, looking down at where they were entwined.

“I’m not missing your testimony, if only for the sole reason of discovering what your full name is.” she teased as he looked at her. Frank gave a huff of a laugh “Francis Preston Adler, nice to meet you.” He tipped his bottle in her direction. “Preston?” She snorted “Get out of town! There’s a place in England called Preston, it’s like thirty miles away from my home!”

Frank smiled, before he sighed.

“Last day tomorrow isn’t it?” Fliss looked at him as he stared straight ahead.

He let out a breath “Yeah, well last day of evidence. Then we have to wait for however long it takes the judge to read all the reports and make a ruling.”

“Well then, I suggest you get some sleep, or as much as you can.” Fliss kissed his cheek, and with that she released his hand and stood up. Frank followed her lead, rising to her feet. “Oh, and FYI I got an absolute interrogation off Roberta before when you did that to me. Felt like it was me in the dock, not Evelyn.” For the first time all evening Frank laughed.

******

The gloomy, rainy morning matched Frank’s mood perfectly.

He sat in the dock dressed in his suit, feeling as out of place as anyone could. Greg went through the questions he had coached Frank on, questions designed not to paint him as a saint but to simply be real and portray him as a normal person, doing the best he could for his niece in line with his sister’s wishes. Frank answered them honestly. Was he perfect? No. Had he done things correctly? No. Did he wish he had spotted Diane was struggling? Yes. Did he love Mary and want the best for her? With every breath he had.

The questions continued along those lines until they broke for lunch. And then came the cross examination, and Frank knew he was in for a beating.

“Mr. Adler where are you currently employed?” Highsmith asked sitting on the desk to the left of Evelyn.

“I repair boats.” Frank answered clearly

“Oh, really? At which marina?”

“I don't work at a marina. I freelance.”

“So, safe to say, no health insurance.”

“No.” Frank shook his head

“About a week before your sister took her life what were you doing for a living then?”

“I was a teacher.” Frank replied.

“You're being modest, aren't you?” Highsmith said, standing up and walking towards the dock “You were a professor at Boston University Isn't that right?

“Yes, well, assistant professor.”

“And what'd you teach?”

“Philosophy.”

“Truth and logic. That sort of thing.” Highsmith gestured with his hands and Frank simply smiled as the man continued. “Your attorney said that the primary reason that you took Mary is because it was what your sister would've wanted you to do. Is that a truth?”

“Yes.” Frank implored

“So Diane had visited Pinellas County before?”

“No.” Frank said with almost an air of amusement on his face as he looked at his mother for a second before he glanced down and joined his hands in front of him in his lap.

“She indicated she wanted her daughter uprooted and moved here?”

Frank shook his head, closing his eyes. “No”

“No.” Highsmith repeated “So you decided to bring Mary here, didn't you?”

Frank licked his lips and drew in a deep breath as he simply stared as his mother. He was pleased so see her shift in her seat

“Did Diane had a problem with your health plan at Boston University?” Highsmith pressed.

Frank wanted to laugh. The guy was doing exactly what Greg had warned him he would do, attack his lack of healthcare, insinuate he wasn’t able or fit to provide for Mary. When he spoke his voice was calm, and he fought to keep his face as amicable as possible.

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Do you think she would want her daughter to have access to healthcare?”

Dumbass question

“Of course.” Frank nodded.

“So what do you do, when little Mary gets sick? You repair a doctor's boat?”

Frank scoffed a laugh as Cullen objected.

“Sustained.” Judge Nicholls shot Highsmith a look and Frank stole a glance at Fliss. If the situation wasn’t so serious he would have laughed at the identical look she wore to Roberta, both glaring at Highsmith like they were plotting his very painful death.

The rain outside continued to drive down as did Highsmith’s questions, the air punctuated every so often by a low rumble of thunder from the outside storm echoing what Frank was feeling inside.

“Prior to Mrs. Adler giving her one. Did Mary have a computer?”

“She used mine.”

“Mr. Adler, does Diane's daughter have her own bedroom?”

“No.”

“Does she sleep in a bed that you bought in a second hand shop?”

“Yes.” Frank looked ahead, focussing on keeping calm as Highsmith walked towards the dock, gesturing now with his hands, his tone winding up

“So, the truth is, Mr. Adler, that you didn't come down here because your sister wanted it to and you certainly didn't come here because it was good for Mary.”

Frank swallowed slightly and shifted a little, avoiding looking at the man as he tapped his hand on the side of the dock.

“No, it was personal. Diane was a star. You weren't. Diane got the attention. You didn't.”

Frank scoffed silently, oh please, and turned to look in the opposite direction.

“..and over the years You got angry. And here comes Mary. What a great way to get even.”

At that he audibly sighed. He had known this was coming, that his mother’s attorney would try and paint him as petty and vindictive but it still hurt to hear it. Hurt that his own mother would have someone attack him in such a way. He’d defend Mary to the hilt if someone was doing this to her…

“You've uprooted that little girl and brought her here for one reason only. To do harm to your mother. You blamed her for your sister.”

“No, I don't.” Frank broke his silence.

“And Mary to you is just a pawn in all this.”

And that did it, Mary wasn’t a pawn. She was a little girl, a little girl who he was doing is best by.

“Diane wanted Mary, to be a kid” Frank’s voice betrayed his desperation and emotion, and he knew that, but now he was past caring, this was the truth, it was how he felt, and he was nothing if not honest. He locked eyes with his mother as he spoke, driving his words home “.She wanted her to have a life. She wanted her to have friends and to play…”

At that his mother looked away, her eyes glistening but Frank kept his on hers as she turned back to him, his final words were almost whispered

“…and to be happy.”

“You realize the consequences of boredom for a gifted child, Mr. Adler? They become resentful and sullen.”

“Mary's not an angry kid.” Frank’s voice was calm once more.

“Really? Did she not attack a child on the school bus?”

Shit.

“A twelve year old tripped a seven year old and she came to his defense.” Frank shrugged slightly

“Did she break the boy's nose?”

“Yes.”

“On October 16th last year, were you arrested for assault?”

“Oh, my God.” Frank groaned, and he looked down before he glanced back up, momentarily locking eyes with Fliss who he noticed had taken a deep breath. He looked back down, shaking his head

“You have to answer the question Mr. Adler.” Judge Nicholls reminded him

Frank swallowed and focussed on a spot on the varnished surface of the wood in front of him, just by the microphone. “A drunk idiot attacked me and I defended myself. What does that have to do…”

“Did you spend the night in jail?” Highsmith cut him off.

“Yeah.” Frank nodded.

“You are in way over your head here. You're depriving that girl…”

Frank stayed still, shaking his head and glaring at his mother, all the while Highsmith continued ranting on at him

“…you're gambling with her future and now you’re being presented with an opportunity to do right by her.”

“Does council have a question for my client?” Cullen asked loudly

“Take the high road, Mr. Adler before she's rapidly damaged.”

“Does council have a question for my client or not?” Cullen repeated, this time standing up.

“Yes, sir. I do have a question.” Highsmith said. “Tell us. Is your continued guardianship really in the best interest of this little girl?”

“You do your best, Frank. And that’s all any of us can do…” Fliss’s voice rattled in his head, and he took a deep breath. No he wasn’t perfect. Yes, Evelyn could provide for her better than he could but could she love Mary like he did. No, no she couldn’t

He stared at his mother, as he lifted his chin and spoke loudly and clearly.

“Yes.Yes, it is.”

“I have no further questions.” Highsmith spoke.

Frank scratched at his head and left the dock.

***** Following the summing up, they were all dismissed. Frank shook Greg’s hand who told him he would be in touch and Frank left the courtroom with Roberta, Fliss nowhere to be seen. He took a deep breath, realising she was probably going to run a mile after hearing about the assault. That wasn’t how he wanted her to find out. However, to his amazement and joy she was waiting for him by his truck. Roberta nodded to him and made an excuse to nip over the road to the store for a water leaving them to talk alone.

“Thought you’d gone?” he said gently.

“No, I had to take a call from Joanne about a lesson. Why would I leave without saying goodbye?” she frowned

“The assault”

Fliss sighed “Okay, I admit it was a shock to hear but…”

“At least let me explain.”

“There’s really no need. You said you were defending yourself and I believe you.”

“He was a drunk idiot.” Frank continued anyway. “I was actually out with a friend, Jacob and his fiancée, Lisa. Jake had gone to the bathroom and this guy bumped into us and sent Lisa flying into the table, knocking a load of glasses over. When I told him to be careful he took a swing at me only he missed and, well I didn’t.”

“You’re a regular knight in shining armour, Sailor.” Fliss smiled before she looked at him softly. “I know that was hard today. I was so angry and the things he was saying to you but it’s done now. Try not to think on it because you can’t change the outcome. Whatever it is, you did your best.”

“You know I remembered you saying that to me.” he smiled, “Right as he was telling me what a lousy life I give Mary.” “It’s not lousy.”  Fliss shook her head. “She’s loved Frank. And she’s happy.”

He smiled again as she took a deep breath.

“Look, I have to go, I have a lesson in an hour now this rain has let up, but what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Working.” he said, chuckling as she raised her eyebrow. “Yeah I know, second Friday night in a row but, well I’m behind thanks to this case and whilst Roberta has Mary I can get a good few hours in during the night and then get my head down for a few hours before she comes back.”

“How about I keep you company?” Fliss offered. “Only if that’s ok?”

Frank smiled “As long as you don’t distract me too much.” “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

**** The next evening, Frank and Fliss were in the workshop at the Marina, Frank explaining to Fliss the different components of the oil filter he was stripping down. She gave a loud, exaggerated yawn and he nudged her playfully. She grinned at him, and he didn’t miss the flash in her eyes as she looked him quickly up and down, taking in his dirty jeans, hands covered in oil and his long sleeved thin blue sweater which he knew fit him pretty well. Part of the reason he had worn it.

“Hey.” a familiar voice said, and they both looked up to see Cullen as he stood in the entrance.

“Hey.” Frank frowned “What’s…” “I got some news, and I wanted to give it to you in person.”

“I’ll er, give you a moment.” Fliss offered, and she went to leave but Frank caught her elbow gently.

“No, stay, please.”

She looked at him for a second and nodded as Frank turned his attention to Cullen.

“What is it Greg.”

“Highsmith called. They want to cut a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

Cullen took a breath. “A foster family.”

“No way.” Frank dismissed the notion straight up and Greg continued to try and win him round, informing him that they could cherry pick and that it would be mutually approved and he’d already found a family in Tampa, which was what he had been working on all day.

“She’ll attend the Oaks, you and Evelyn will get visitation right, and then, when she’s twelve, you can go back into court and Mary can decide where, and with who, she wants to live.”

“You’re supposed to be on my team.” Frank cut his friend off, glaring at him “Why are you bringing me this deal?

“Other than I'm required to by law?” Greg looked back at him, and then suddenly Frank understood.

“You like this deal.” he stated and Greg nodded.

“I love this deal.”

“They think they're gonna lose.” Frank leaned on the work-desk in front of him, looking at Cullen.

“Yeah. They do.”

“You think we're gonna lose.”

“Yes.” Greg replied honestly. “I do, Frank.”

Frank looked down, swallowing before he turned to his friend who sighed.

“I gotta go put my kids to bed. I'll do whatever you want me to do. But, if we leave this up to the judge, Nicholls, he's old school, Frank. Does he like your mother? No. Does he like her income? Does he like her health plan? Does he like her home? You better believe it.”

Frank looked down again, shaking his head, unable to do anything else.

“I've been in his courtroom. A hundred times. And if it's a coin toss...Look at me.”

Frank turned to Greg, his arms still leaning on the top, muscles straining as he grasped at a wrench in front of him in frustration.

“If it's a coin toss, that old boy is going to side with the money.” Greg said gently “So, do me a favour, Frank. Just meet the family. See how it feels. It's all I ask.” With that he took a deep breath. “I gotta go, I’ll see you later. Goodnight Fliss.”

“Night.” she replied, watching him leave.

There was a pause before Frank picked up the wrench in his hand and threw it hard against the wall at the opposite side of the garage, before he stood up tall and turned to Fliss who was watching him, her face contorted in sympathy and sadness.

“I don’t know what to do.” He looked at her, and every single emotion he had been holding back cascaded over him in a wave as he felt utterly and hopelessly overwhelmed. He couldn’t stop the tears brimming in his eyes and he bowed his head, once more leaning on the desk. He felt a warm pair of hands gently on his arm, nudging him to turn slightly and he did so to look at Fliss as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a hug. He pressed his face into the crook of her shoulder, his tears falling onto her soft skin as she smoothed a hand through his hair, gently soothing him.

“Sorry.” he mumbled after a moment pulling back.

She placed her hands on his face, wiping his tears with her thumbs, her own filling her eyes. “Don’t ever apologise to me for being upset, Frankie.”

He let out a soft, watery laugh as he dropped his forehead to hers, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath, composing himself.

“You now no one’s called me Frankie since I was a little kid” he smiled.

“Well it suits you.” she pulled away slightly. “You good?” He nodded, moving back out of her arms. “Do you think I should go?” he asked “Meet this family?”

“Frank, I can’t answer that.” “What would you do?”

“I honestly don’t know.” she shook her head. “I suppose there’s no harm in meeting them. But you have to be sure this is what is right for Mary. I do know one thing though, whatever you decide to do, I’ll be there all the way. I told you, I was here for the road trip, no matter how bumpy it gets.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. He gently took her hand and raised it to his mouth, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “Thankyou.”

**** Chapter 9

[babi-correia]

Guardian Angel

Words: 3083

Pairing: Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, drug abuse, poorly written medical stuff and PTSD.

From Anon:

“Hi there, can I get a Greg Gerwitz x reader, please? So reader and Jay are cousins and when Jay enlists, he starts writing about his friend Mouse so reader when sending care packages will always include things for Mouse and when Jay came back for his mum's funeral, Mouse came with and he falls for reader and vice versa but remained friends while he's in the rangers still. When he was discharged and eventually involved in some shady shit, it was the reader who gets him back on track. Thank you x”

Here you go, kind friend.

[(Y/N/N)=Your Nickname]

One thing you knew for sure: nothing in your life could have possibly prepared you for the moment when your cousin, Jay, had been deployed to Afghanistan. His mother, your own mother's sister, was devastated, but his father had shown nothing but anger and disapproval at his career choice, as he had with Will. It seemed like no matter what, the man would never approve or support either of his sons, and it annoyed you to no end. So, logically, when he went away you took it upon yourself to make sure he knew that at least one person back home cared about him and wasn't completely repealing him. 

He mentions his friend and teammate Greg Gerwitz in one of his first letters, as Jay had taken to personally protect Greg, as he was a very valuable communications expert; although you could read right through that Jay began projecting himself as an older brother for Greg, who he affectionately called "Mouse". From Jay's reaction, you gather that Greg probably didn't have that much of a support network back home, or any at all, other than Jay, so you include him as well in your silly little personal mission.

The first care package goes out a month into their deployment, filled with energy bars, sunblock, beef jerky, some pain-relieving topical cream, and deodorant, along with a picture of you, your mom, and Jay's mom holding a sign saying "Counting the days for the two of you to be back". It finds them well, and Jay's letter is full of little round wrinkly spots when you open it, its' content nothing but praise for the care package. He writes that Greg cried like a baby when Jay told him that the packed box was for the both of them and not just him. 

--

When you have to write to Jay about his mom's illness, it breaks you. Your whole purpose with the letters and care packages was to brighten their mood, often including bad jokes you had happened to hear and you knew they would get a kick out of because of how bad they were. But you had to tell him. You end up rewriting the letter more times than you cared to count, searching for the best way to say "hey, your mom's dying". This time, it's your letter that's filled with little round wrinkly spots when you seal the envelope. 

Jay's response takes its' time, and comes right in the week of your exams. Between helping your aunt and studying to get a decent internship, you were left with very little time to do anything else other than sleep and eat. You put a hold on the anatomy book you're studying, deciding to pick it up after you prepare everything to do with Jay and Greg, refusing to let them go without a letter or care package. You fill the letter with crappy jokes and complaints about how dumb you were to want to become a doctor, because clearly, the exams were driving you mad. You try to put some hope in the letter, saying that Jay's mom looks better than before. 

--

The next month makes you nearly drop out. Your aunt's condition worsens too fast for there to be anything left to do, and you have to be the one to let Jay know that his mom died because dear old Pat could still not be bothered to talk to his son. 

You manage to catch one of your dad's old army buddies, one who is still in the military, and make him pull some strings to get both Jay and Greg back in US soil for the funeral. 

You pick them up at the airport, noticing how thinner Jay is, how his face looks so sunken, how he looks almost broken. He barely has time to drop his duffle bag before you wrap him in a hug as tight as you can give. He hugs you back before backing away and wiping his eyes.

"(Y/N), this is Mouse. Mouse, this is (Y/N), the angel that has been sending us goodies." Jay introduces. Greg goes to shake your hand but you hug him, feeling him reluctantly hug you back. 

"I wish we had met under better circumstances." You say to Greg, pulling away from a hug and giving him a tired smile. "We should get back, you can still catch the wake, Jay."

The car ride is silent, and you can't find it in you to say anything at all. You pull up to the mortuary house, parking the car and taking a deep breath. 

"You want me to go in with you?" You ask, seeing how Jay is looking out the window. 

"No, I think it's better if I go in alone." He says before pausing. "Is Pat in there?"

"No. We haven't seen much of Pat lately." You admit, knowing Jay knew how much you despised his father.

He exits the car and you sit in silence, Greg still in the back seat. It takes a while before he breaks the ice.

"So... Jay tells me you want to be a doctor?" He asks meekly, his eyes on everything but you. 

"I do. I'm about to start my residency, hopefully at a big hospital like Chicago Med." You say, the usual excitement that comes paired with your passion and the opportunity to talk about it significantly dulled. 

"What's your expertise?"

"I'm going for trauma surgery." You say, turning around in your seat to face Greg. 

His heart skips a beat when his eyes finally meet yours. No one in his life had ever looked at him with the sheer kindness you did. He had grown a crush on you without knowing you at all, and seeing you look at him like that only reinforced it. 

"Look, I just want to say thank you for including me in the care packages." He manages, breaking eye contact and looking at his hands, which rest atop his knees. He can barely mask the gasp he makes when you put one of your hands over one of his and give him a reassuring squeeze. 

"It's my pleasure." You say, greeting him with a smile when he finally looks at you again. "I enjoy doing it, and it makes me feel better about the whole deployment situation that I can at least give you guys something to brighten your day."

Over the next couple of days, you just chat your mind out to Greg and read your medicine books to him, sometimes making him quiz you on the subjects. He generally looks confused, but he also seems happy to help you. It makes him giddy on the inside to see how much you know about whatever he's quizzing you about, and the focused yet excited look on your face makes his heart flutter. It's only during the night before they fly back that he realizes: he's head over heels for you.

You wake up ridiculously early the morning of their flight; well, you don't wake up, you just get out of bed, because sleep had ever so expertly evaded you due to your overthinking of what would happen to Jay and Greg back in Afghanistan. Your mind keeps racing, running multiple scenarios but not seeing a positive outcome in none of them. And even though of course you worried deeply about Jay, since he was your cousin and you two grew up together, your stomach twisted in itself at the thought of Greg getting hurt. 

You slowly realize that you had begun to harbor feelings for the man, and your mind reels. You hide your face on your hands as you try to process everything before you give up and go out to sit in your back yard and stare at the sky. 

You take them to the airport at around 5 am, the drive there being awfully silent. You feel the tears prickling at your eyes as you drive the car and grip the steering wheel with everything you have. You could tell Greg about how you felt, but you couldn't handle the fact that he was going back when he was barely your friend, much less if you uncovered your feelings. Besides, nothing guarantees you that he would like you back, so you decide to keep your mouth shut. 

You bid your goodbyes and hug the two men outside the airport, your hug with Greg taking a little longer than it should - not that he seemed to mind. They head inside and you return to your car, sitting behind the wheel and crying all of your emotions out. When you look back to maneuver your car, you notice something glinting in the back seat and pick it up. The small metal plate is cold in your hand, and you notice a little post-it attached. 

"Thank you for caring so much about someone you know so little about. Please don't forget about me."

You turn it around and see the engraving: Gregory Gerwitz. Tears well up in your eyes again, and you hold the dog-tag to your chest, closing your eyes.

--

You keep sending them letters and care packages as part of your routine, sometimes struggling to get time to do it. You had managed to land your internship on Med, and they liked you enough to keep you around as an ED doctor. 

On your day off, just as you're about to head off into the grocery shop to gather goodies for the next care package, your doorbell rings and you open the door to find your supposedly deployed cousin.

"Jay!?" Your voice is squeaky, but you can't find it in you to care. "What are you doing here?" 

You hug him carefully, noticing some cuts and bruises on his face and arms. He hugs you back and lifts you slightly. 

"I was medically discharged a few weeks ago, I've been crashing at a friend's but I owed you to come here." He explains as you guide him inside. "Also, I need your help with something."

"What's wrong?" You ask, sitting beside him on the couch. He points at your chest, where the dog tag rests, hanging from a simple chain. 

"It's about Mouse. He isn't taking it well and I'm afraid he's going to do something that's gonna hurt him." Jay sighs. "He really likes you, but he doesn't think of himself as deserving of someone that cares about him and wants to help."

"Where can I find him?" You ask, feeling your chest tightening. 

"Not even I know that, but as soon as I find out I'll let you know." He stays, prompting himself to get up. "By the way, I'm in the police academy and it'd mean a lot to me if you could attend my graduation in a few months."

"Of course!" You beam at him before hugging him. "Just let me know when, and I'll ask for the day off."

--

After your conversation with Jay, you can't bring yourself to stop thinking about Greg and how he's doing. One day, you're getting in your car to get home after a shift when you get a call from Jay.

"Yes?" You answer your phone.

"(Y/N), I need you to come to your house quickly." Jay's voice seems distressed. "It's Greg, I have no idea what happened."

You make the drive back in record time, grabbing the emergency medical kit from under the passenger seat before rushing inside. You notice Jay has used the spare key you gave him to get inside, finding him and Greg on the floor of your bathroom. 

Your heart drops and you join them on the floor, quickly assessing Greg; his skin is cold and clammy, his breathing and heart rate slow, and he seems to be slipping in and out of consciousness. 

"He's overdosing on opioids." You realize aloud, quickly opening your medical kit and retrieving a small vial and a syringe. Jay watches you as you charge the syringe and push out the air before administering it. 

"What is that?" He asks, watching as you set the syringe on the bathroom counter.

"Naloxone. It reverses opioid overdoses, technically." You say, observing Greg's reaction. "We have to get him to a hospital, Jay."

"No, that may screw whatever little chance he still has at getting a job." 

You shake your head as you move your hand to gage Greg's heart rate, noticing it seemed to pick up a bit.

"Let's see how he progresses. If I don't like anything in how he develops, I'm taking him to the hospital, and that's not debatable." You state, moving behind Greg and sitting him up, noticing as he begins to shiver. You lean his back against your chest as he begins to move slightly. "Stay still for a bit, Greg. Please."

You feel him tense up, his breathing labored. He looks at Jay, who shakes his head.

"I don't know what's going on Mouse, but you need to get it together." Jay says, his face serious as he gets up. "I have to get to the academy, but I'll come by later."

You hear the front door shut as Jay leaves, and just sit on the floor in silence for a while. 

"What's going on, Greg?" You ask, your voice barely a whisper. He feels his chest tightening at your sad and defeated tone. This was exactly why he didn't want to come to you, he was a broken man and he knew you'd be disappointed in him. "Why didn't you ask for help?"

He doesn't even have a chance to respond before he scrambles forward and wretches into the toilet. You just brush your hand up and down his back, feeling him shake as he starts to cry. 

You wet a towel and run it through his face to wipe the sweat gathering on his forehead. You hook your arms around his chest and help him rise to his feet, supporting most of his weight. 

"Can you work with me and get to the living room? We'll be more comfortable there." You ask softly, holding him up and helping him move to the living room. You sit him down on the couch and take a seat next to him, wiping some hair sticking to his forehead. You take one of his hands in yours, and his heart just about shatters when he sees the look you give him: it's still the same pure kindness from the first time the two of you met. 

"I didn't want to disappoint you." His voice is barely a whisper, and your brows knit in confusion. "I'm not the same person from when we first met, I've gone down a dark path, I didn't want to disappoint you or get you involved."

"Greg, you'd never disappoint me." You say, your voice soft. "It's normal, it's a whole different reality. I'm here to help you however I can."

You hug him and cradle him against your chest, his arms snaking around you to hold as tight as he can. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He mumbles, his voice shaking. You rest your chin atop his head and caress his back as he keeps on trembling. "I should've come to you sooner, I should have told you about everything a lot sooner." 

"All that matters is that you're ok, Greg." You whisper, holding him. "We can work on this from now on. You're not alone."

--

You end up offering Greg the spare bedroom on your house, on the condition that he must stay clean and out of trouble, and at least try to get a legitimate job. 

One day you get home after working a double shift, your head pounding and your emotions all over the place: you had lost a patient. You know that there wasn't anything you could have done, but that doesn't make you feel less shitty. Entering the house, you make a beeline for the living room and flop face-first into the couch, laying there for a while without moving.

"Hey (Y/N/N), you ok?" You hear Greg's voice as he kneels next to you. You turn your head to face him and he sees the tears in your eyes. "Woah, what's wrong?"

"I lost a patient today. Nice old lady, came in because she slipped and fell on the icy street, hit her head pretty nastily. She was talking when she got there, but then she passed out and just like that she was gone." You vent, tears streaming down your face. Greg holds your hand and rubs it softly. "I just wish there had been something I could have done for her."

"You have a heart of gold, you know that?" He says, pushing some hair out of your face. "You can't save everyone... Just cherish the ones you did save, like me for example."

He always jokes around about you saving him, but it was the truth; without you, he'd probably be dead in an alley somewhere. 

"I think it's mutual saving." You whisper, smiling at him. "I would probably have gone mad by now if you weren't around."

You maneuver yourself and sit normally on the couch, and he sits next to you, pulling you into a hug. 

"It's a nice little deal we have, then." He says, holding you to him. You nod, eventually separating from him. "I still think you're my private guardian angel."

You laugh at him, and his belief solidifies further: to him, you were exactly like an angel, from your laugh to your personality to your selflessness, and you had given him a second chance at life. 

Before either of you realize what's going on, he leans in and cups your face, resting his forehead against yours. You can feel his breath on your face as you take in the beautiful blueness of his eyes. 

"If you don't want it, say so." He whispers, his eyes riddled with both fear and excitement. Your heart beats out of your chest as you close the space between you and kiss him, feeling him smile against your lips. It's short and chaste and sweet, but it's everything you had imagined. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for that."

You laugh, cupping his face as you kiss him again, the two of you giggling like a pair of kids and forgetting everything else in the world other than the moment that you were having.