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txladyj-blog · 5 years ago

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This Time Around - Chapter 22

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx by request of @txladyj-blog

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 26/?

Smoke filtered out through the open window, plumes of grey rising up to the sky from the illuminated bud at the end of Daryl’s cigarette. His morning cigarette was probably the one he looked forward to the most. He took up his usual spot on the window ledge with a coffee in one hand and his smoke in the other and watched the sun peep over the horizon. The streets were always empty save for the guards and it was one of the things he was grateful for at Alexandria, one of the small home comforts he had gone without for so long. It was now part of his morning routine once more. Rise early, shower, grab a coffee and smoke by the light of the sun rising before setting off on the hunt.

He would usually always see Jess around the same time, sitting on the same fallen tree trunk and checking her bow and bracers. It became more than a coincidence after the third time he’d ran into her there that the both of them somehow just accepted that it was now a rendezvous spot and the place they’d use each morning to greet one another and throw the odd competitive comment around. Daryl was aware he was the better hunter, but he had been hunting since he was old enough to hold a crossbow without dropping it. Jess only had a years’ experience but was holding her own, rarely returning to Alexandria empty handed. Whoever turned up the most fruits of their labor, he enjoyed their trash talk regardless.

On this particular morning, she was nowhere to be seen and he compelled himself to pay no heed to the fact that she was absent. She had fast become the highlight of his days and was the first thing he looked for when he embarked on yet another twenty-four hours of uncertainty. The air was crisp and he could see his breath form small, white clouds as he moved out into the woods and began to look for animal tracks, a task which usually commanded his complete attention but this time, only garnered a small percentage of it. His mind wandered and soon, he found himself wandering without a purpose through the trees and paying little attention to anything but putting down the odd Walker and his lack of self-restraint when it came to entertaining the memory of the captivating curves that Jess possessed.

It was uncommon for Daryl to think of such things, to see the women he encountered as anything more than acquaintances, friends or just other human beings. He never understood why Merle objectified them so much, it never seemed to get him much further than a slap in the face or a punch from an unhappy husband in a bar. There was a time, during high-school that he ruminated upon something being wrong with him due to his lack of interest in the opposite sex. He knew he wasn’t gay, but felt very little pull towards girls either. One female in particular did pique his interest and while he felt a connection to the strange personality of the girl that ate lunch with him and drank hard liquor with him in the park, he wasn’t sure if he could call what he felt an attraction at all. He thought her to be pretty, nicer to look at than all the others, but it was more of a comfort, to have someone else around other than Merle that wasn’t going to cause him harm and that genuinely liked his company. But it was short lived and he quickly found out that he wasn’t up to the task of conveying how he felt, resulting in his only potential mate giving him the cold shoulder and acting as if he didn’t exist. However, it wasn’t an issue he spent much time deliberating over, he had other things to worry about, like the abuse he would have to go home to or the drugs he carried in his bag to save Merle from getting arrested for dealing.

It wasn’t until he was in his late teens that a physical attraction to women finally presented itself. But Daryl wasn’t like other young men his age, not under the tough, troubled and violent façade he presented. Deep down, he was shy, sensitive and broken by years of beatings, run-ins with the cops and his brothers shadow looming over him as the only role model in his life. No, Daryl was certainly not gay, but he did find himself gravitating towards quieter girls with intelligence rather than the overdone, brash women that his brother spoke so highly of.

“Skirt like that, it’ll do anything ya ask if ya get it drunk enough, little brother” Mere would say.

Daryl laughed along in encouragement, cheered with the rest of them in dive bars when Merle managed to bag himself someone that looked halfway between a stripper and someone’s grandma, he even hit on women in his brother’s presence to save face which was the only extent of his flirting expertise. But underneath it all, he simply didn’t understand what all the fuss was about.

Fear wasn’t something he was familiar with either, not since he was a child and had to endure the horrors of a poor, substance addicted, violent family living in the Georgian mountains. He’d honed his fear, turned it around and used it to mold himself into a survivor, and as a result was always one of the first to run into a fight or dangerous situation. It wasn’t that he never felt fear, it festered in his mind and trembled in his hands just like everyone else, he had just learned to acknowledge it and soldier on anyway. But there are different types of fear and what lay heavy on his heart as he trundled through the woods and slumped to the ground against a tree was a kind of fear that he’d never felt before. It had bounded out of nowhere like a wolf in the night and struck him so powerfully that he could barely apply himself to much else, other than thinking of her. It angered him, it was not who he was and such a distraction made him feel weak and vulnerable.

But her effect on him was now wildly out of his control. She terrified him with what she made him feel. He had no names for it, no way of explaining it and all he could do was to persevere in the hope that one day, he would figure it all out. But when she looked at him and made him crazy, when she giggled in response to his flirting, when she wore tight clothes and when she teased him about near enough anything, she was striking fear into him at the same time because for the first time in his life, he felt something so strong for someone of the opposite sex and didn’t have a clue what to do with it.

That afternoon, Daryl leaned with his back against the wall by the gate and waited for Jess’s arrival. He couldn’t deny that he’d been looking forward to this day since she invited him on front porch of Aaron and Eric’s house with her faintly suggestive invite that he hadn’t been expecting in the slightest.

Aaron wandered past with a box of canned goods from the pantry and nudged his head up in acknowledgement. Daryl pushed away from the wall and approached him, with one hand fiddling, absentmindedly with the foil from the empty packet of cigarettes he’d just disposed of.

“Hey, no recruitin’ run today?” He asked Aaron.

“Ah, nope. Rick Still hasn’t found any traces of that group you and Jess saw. Recruiting is on hold until we know we’re not going to be bringing back public enemy number one.” Aaron explained.

Daryl grunted and nodded, smoothing the foil between his fingers into a ball and flicking it across the street.

“How’s the leg? You don’t seem to be limping much anymore.”

“S’good. Thanks to Jess hassling me all the damn time.” Daryl remarked with a squint from beneath his hair.

“Ahh, she’s a good one.” Aaron responded “It’s nice to see you two so close these days.”

Without having any control over his defenses, they shot up and Daryl immediately became suspicious.

“What does that mean? We’re friends.” He stated.

“Oh, I know. I just noticed that you get along well. You make a good team.” Aaron offered casually in the hope that it might suppress Daryl’s obvious irritation. His comments seemed to work and Daryl shifted his weight to his stronger leg, glancing back and forth from Aaron’s smiling face to the area around them, looking for any prying eyes or listening ears.

“She uh…she tell ya about this boat she lived on?” He inquired nervously. Far from wanting to seem too interested in anything to do with Jess for fear of someone figuring out what was happening in his head, he was curious as to why she would invite him to such a place, and figured that Aaron may be his best shot at some information.

“Oh, yeah. She lived there for a few months. Said it was the best place she’s ever lived. She was self-sufficient, safe, sounded to me like she was quite content there before the big freeze hit and the lake froze over. I think it’s her happy place.”

Aaron’s answer only turned up more questions for Daryl, who was now closely watching Aaron’s expression.

“Any idea why she’d wanna take me there?” He risked.

Aaron’s eyebrows shot up and he tried to disguise a wide smile. He knew exactly why Jess would invite him there, he just couldn’t disclose it. The boat was indeed, Jess’s happy place. She got to live in the lap of luxury in complete safety, surrounded by fish to eat and sun to bask in. It was the only place she’d lived that didn’t feel like it was in the middle of the end of days. For her to invite Daryl there, meant she wanted to share her happy place with him, because she loved him.

Aaron knew he had to proceed with caution, saying the wrong thing could land Jess in a whole world of humiliation and he was pretty sure she would chop his head off with her machete.

“She’s never taken me or Eric there. Just…consider yourself honored.” Was all he said with a small wink. “Anyway, I should get this box home, we’re making cookies for the Monday meeting. Eric roped me into it. I’ll see you later.”

Daryl stayed in the same stance as Aaron moved off, confused and questioning the reasons why he would provide such a shady and vague answer and also wondering who else may have noticed how close he and Jess had become. Then, he realized just how long it had been since he’d arrived at the gate. Jess was late.

“Hey, wait a minute” He called out. Aaron paused with his box clutched to his chest. “Ya seen her today? She’s ‘sposed to be meetin’ me here.”

“Yeah, she’s in the armory.” Aaron chirped with a nod before resuming his journey back to his home.

Daryl was confused. It was unheard of for Jess to be late and he couldn’t figure out why she would be in the armory when she’d told him to be at the gate at the same time. He set off in the direction of the underground, firearm’s storage room with his pace quickened as he approached the building. Taking the steps two at a time, he halted halfway down and felt fury explode in his chest.

Inside the armory, Jess was sitting on the desk with her leg propped up on the arm of the chair below her. In that chair, sat Abraham who was carefully showing her the components of his assault rifle. She appeared completely fascinated and totally unaware of Daryl’s presence when he materialized in the doorway with a scowl on his face and his skin crawling with jealousy.

“See, honey. Ain’t nothin’ like a man with a great, big gun.” Abraham beamed at her.

She leaned back and laughed loudly, covering her mouth with one hand and slapping his arm with the other. Decked out in her usual, dark armored clothing, she was a world apart from the breezy, shorts and vest clad woman he’d sat with on the decking that night. But her smile was still the same, and he still loved the sound of her laugh, even if it was for someone other than him.

Jess raised her vision when she noticed the figure standing in the doorway and dropped her leg from the arm of Abraham’s chair. The big, ginger man swung the seat around to follow her sight-line and raised a hand, coupled with a wide smile.

“Hey, Daryl! Come to join firearms 101?” He cheered.

Jess’s face quickly dropped when she registered the anger written all over Daryl’s body language. His arm was positioned across his body, holding onto the strap of his crossbow over his shoulder and creating a barrier. His head was low, he glared at her through the gaps in his hair and he stood unwaveringly still.

Then, she remembered.

“Oh my god!” She gasped with wide eyes, throwing her hands up to her face and covering her mouth. “Was that today?! I forgot! I’m so sorry, Daryl!”

“Huh. Figures.” He spat. He wasn’t sure what he was even going to follow it up with, all he was sure of was that he was getting sick of seeing how happy she seemed to be around Abraham. So happy in fact, that she’d forgotten about the trip they’d planned. The trip he’d been looking forward to. The trip he was starting to think of as a pinnacle in the evolution of their friendship. It wasn’t that he had plans to confess his feelings or anything of the sort, but it was a chance for them to be together, alone and away from everyone else in an environment where she felt comfortable and at ease and who knew what possibilities that may have held.

“Daryl, just give me twenty minutes and I’ll-” She started

“-Naw, It’s fine. Really. I wasn’t waitin’ on ya like a fuckin' idiot or nothin’.” He bit at her.

“I’m sorry, please-” She begged, jumping down from the table and reaching out to him. He pulled away, his eyes flicking from her to Abraham, who was watching the drama unfold while gently stroking at his mustache.

“-Y’know what?” Daryl growled at Jess “I aint interested.”

With that, he vanished through the door and was up on the street, thundering towards the gate before Jess could even exhale and begin to figure out how to make things right.

Channeling Carl, Jess spent most of that evening sitting on the bench by the pond and ruminating over what had happened in the armory. She hadn’t expected such a fierce reaction from Daryl and she could only figure that he’d been looking forward to getting out and doing something other than hunting. Since Rick’s small group had been scouring the area for the group the man that shot Daryl was from, all runs and recruiting had been put on hold unless there was a desperate need, which there wasn’t. Hunting was still allowed and that was the only saving grace for Daryl, who was getting serious cabin fever and as a result, Jess could see it affecting his mood. He’d been angry at her before, but this time had been different. His eyes held something other than rage and it was still staring her in the face in her memories. He was disappointed as well.

She removed her jacket from the bench next to her when Rick strolled over and sat down. At first, he said nothing ad Jess noted the dark circles under his eyes and the weariness with which he held his body. He was exhausted.

“Evening, Sheriff.” She hummed. “Any luck?”

A deep sigh was detected from the noble leader of the group, the man that was fast becoming a secondary and well-respected leader of the entire town along with Deanna.

“It’s like they’re everywhere, but nowhere. All at once.” He replied.

“They have spotters.” She mused “The guy that shot Daryl. That’s what he was.”

“Yes, he was. You’re right. They’ve been out there long enough to know how to cover their tracks” He said with a nonchalant raise of his hands while he leaned forwards on his knees.

“Keep going.” She urged. “You’ll find them. I know you will.”

Rick murmured a small thanks and relaxed back on the bench, he threw one leg over the other and picked at the seam of his jeans at his knee. The sun had gone down and the only light illuminating the pond other than the moon was the orangey glow through the windows of the nearest house. Jess looked down at the jacket on her lap, it was new. Or, as new as new could get at the end of the world. She’d picked it up in the same abandoned house where Daryl had told her about the girl that liked him in high-school. She’d noticed it hanging on a coat rack as soon as she arrived and shoved it into her bag straight away. It was black leather, fitted and with a fabric hood attached to the neckline. She remembered the comment that Daryl had expressed when he first saw it. Apparently, she was stealing his style.

“Carol said he’s not spoken to anybody all day.” Rick stated. He didn’t need to give her any context, confident that she would know exactly who and what he was talking about. After all, it was the only reason she was still in Alexandria, sitting by the pond and not at home at the Fairground.

“Oh god.” She whispered.

“What happened?” he wanted to know.

“I arranged to meet him today at the gate. I have this boat. I used to live on it. I wanted to take him there. Y’know, get him outside the walls for something other than hunting? And…before you say anything, it’s way out of the search zone. So, I wouldn’t have been breaking your rule or interfering with the search in any way.” She paused to take a deep breath, seeing shrug a shoulder and shake his head as if to convey that he knew she wouldn’t have done anything to hamper his search anyway “I got the day wrong. I forgot. I was with Abraham in the armory.”

Rick took a moment to let her explanation sink in before he reacted, but he didn’t have much at all to say, already knowing that Daryl would have made it quite clear what he made of the matter.

“Oh.”

“Oh? You say that like it’s the worst thing in the world!” Jess cried.

“You should try and talk to him. It’s been a few hours; he might have simmered down.” Rick suggested.

“Depends how many walls he punched and how many cigarettes he smoked.” Jess remarked as she slid her arms through the sleeves of her jacket and wriggled it on.

“He’s done a whole pack according to Carol. Although the walls in our house are still untouched” He informed her with a small smile. Jess stood up and gathered herself, hoping by the time she reached the Grime’s house that Daryl would have calmed down.

“Right. OK. I’ll try. Thanks, Rick.” She sighed. He reached up and pat her arm as she passed.

The porch light was on but the usual occupants of the front porch reading session were nowhere in sight. Even Carl and Judith were nowhere to be seen, which only made things worse for Jess. She’d imagined Daryl keeping his temper under wraps in front of spectators, especially children, but without their presence he was free to yell at her as much as he wanted. She regretted refraining from seeking him out earlier, but her gut told her it was best to let him be, she only hoped that it didn’t look to him like she didn’t care. Because she did. In fact, her whole day had been taken over by sitting around and trying to find ways to make it up to him.

Her knock on the door seemed to be louder than she’d ever heard. Maybe it was her heightened awareness of everything or her nerves, but she glanced over her shoulder, thinking she’d alerted the attention of the entire street. She stepped back and waited. Slowly looking up when the door clicked open and Carol stepped into view. She wore a floral blouse, much the same as she usually did. But it did little to soften the hard look on her face and all of a sudden, Jess was painfully aware that she was not Daryl’s only friend.

“Evening Carol.” She squeaked, stopping briefly to clear her throat. “Is Daryl here?”

Carol tilted her head back and pursed her lips, looking down her nose at a very sheepish Jess.

This woman is like the gatekeeper. She thought

“You were with Abraham, weren’t you?” She asked.

Jess furrowed her brow and thought over the relevance of Abraham being in the equation.

“Yeah, how did you…? Why?” She questioned back.

Carol steeped further out of the doorway and turned, peering through the gap to ensure no one was listening. She pulled the door almost to a close and faced Jess again. When she spoke, her voice was only slightly above a whisper.

“He’s not mad that you forgot. He’s mad that you forgot because you were with Abraham.” She explained.

Jess was still confused but bit by bit, the pieces started to add up. The reason he’d asked if she had friends here, the reference to her drinking with Abe, the way he averted his gaze or huffed to himself every time a suggestive comment was directed at her. She pondered that maybe just didn’t like Abraham but remembered that they were on the road together for a long time and when they were on runs, they worked well together. Could it be some other reason? Could it be that Daryl was Jealous of her friendship with Abraham? She tried to remember a time aside from forgetting to meet him at the gate when she’d treated Abraham any different to Daryl and could only conclude that she actually felt, and acted, closer to Daryl.

“He tell you that?” She questioned Carol.

“He doesn’t need to.” It was a stony and arrogant response that told Jess; I know him better than you and I can tell why you’ve angered him. But Jess could be just as difficult if she wanted to be and she wasn’t about to be patronized again.

“I don’t need another telling off from you.” She snarled “Please… is he here? I just want to apologize to him and then I’ll go.”

Carol deliberated for a few moments, detecting the sincerity and genuine sadness in Jess’s demeanor and rolled her eyes, pushing the door open behind her.

“I’ll go get him.”

By the time Daryl appeared on the front porch, Jess was nearly convinced he wasn’t going to show up at all and was readying herself to get up from where she was sitting at the table and make tracks back to the fairground. She breathed a sigh of relief when he crossed the decking and took up a seat opposite her, lighting a cigarette and reclining in the chair. It was difficult for Jess not to notice the arm that propped up on the table, toned and highly aesthetically pleasing. She wished he’d worn his jacket, meaning she wouldn’t have to adopt a constant awareness of what she was staring at.

For the most part, he seemed calm enough, but he had refused to look at her since he’d taken a seat. Jess didn’t really know how to approach the situation and decided to just run in full force with her apologies or, she was likely to sit in silence and stare at him all night.

“I’m sorry, Daryl.” She uttered. At the sound of her voice, his head twitched slightly to one side and he exhaled a large cloud of smoke. “I’m so sorry. What I did today was shitty. I’m a shitty friend.”

“Naw, I get it.” He told her “Ya got a better offer.”

“No, Daryl! No! That’s not it!” She pleaded, her voice rising and her body leaning across the table to him. She didn’t notice until her palm connected to the cold surface of the glass topped table that she was literally reaching out to him “Please, let me take you to the boat tomorrow. I’ll make it up to you. Please.”

It was enough to urge him to twist in his seat and make eye contact with her and in the moment that he did, his anger appeared to vanish completely.

“Ya actually gonna show up?” He asked.

“Yes! I know I messed up. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She assured him “I would never…I-I screwed up. Okay?”

“I ain’t upset.” He spat, turning back to the road and taking another drag of his smoke. Jess could see with her own eyes that he quite clearly was upset, but his tough exterior and disinclination to acknowledge his emotions meant he wasn’t about to admit it.

“Uh, I think you are.” She scoffed to herself.

I know you, Dixon. Don’t lie to me.

Jess retracted her hand and began to tap at her thigh beneath the table, anxious that he would just get up and leave without a word, or refuse her offer and never speak to her again. She knew in her heart that he was a little more forgiving than that, if he could get over her abandoning the quarry and hiding her identity from him for weeks, he was probably going to forgive her for this mishap. But the insecurity in her meant she jumped to the worst conclusion and found it problematic to get past it.

Minutes past and Daryl extinguished his smoke. He didn’t move. Didn’t even look at her. Jess was becoming so on edge she started counting what felt like the longest seconds she’d ever tolerated in her life. She got to three minutes before she detected that the drumming on her leg had increased and was actually loud enough for Daryl to hear. She stopped moving and searched her mind for something to break the silence.

“Tomorrow.” He finally said.

“Ok. Yes. Tomorrow. Thank you.” She blurted out swiftly.

Daryl stood and slowly walked back to the door. Jess, not wanting to linger for any longer than she was welcome, decided to follow him and veer off to the steps.

“Hey” He rasped from behind her. She turned as she balanced on the second step, on tenterhooks. “How ‘bout we just write-off today? Start over.”

The air left Jess’s lungs in a whoosh and her shoulders sagged, a thankful smile spread across her lips.

“I would like that very much.” She admitted.

“Alright” He agreed, “If I don’t see ya huntin’, I’ll meet ya by the gate. Midday.”

“Definitely” She said to herself. “Goodnight.”

He watched her leave the steps and cross the grass verge outside and took a minute to evaluate their conversation. He was angry, very angry and for a number of hours. But in holding onto it, he would have backed himself into a corner. A corner where he would be driven to come clean about the exact reason for his rage; that she had forgotten about him in favor of Abraham. Seeing her had chased away his fury in an instant and as long as he’d lived, no one had ever managed such a feat. He’d missed her. Not even a full day had passed and he’d missed her chatter and her jovial attitude. There was no way he could stay angry at her for long and as he stood there and watched her near the gate, he was glad of that.

The drive was gratifying enough for Daryl, the sun was high in the sky and the comfort of its warmth glowed in the trucks cab as Jess drove them along back streets and dirt tracks with the windows rolled down and a quiet tune being hummed for the duration. Conversation was minimal, as it had been from the moment that he’d met her at the gate. It wasn’t that he was still mad at her or was trying to prolong the silent treatment, he simply didn’t have much to say and preferred to steal glances at her as she switched gears, took corners and maneuvered the vehicle over bumpy terrain.

He noted that outwardly, Jess conducted herself much the same as she normally would but with a hint more enthusiasm than usual. A small change that could have been for a number of reasons; she could have been excited to show him the boat or, she was making a genuine effort to do as he’d suggested the previous night and start over. Whichever it was, he was pleased to be by her side again and grateful to be outside the walls.

Jess pulled the truck into the well-hidden track that led down to the gate. Rolling it to a stop, she climbed out and wandered up to the fence, peering through and checking for any signs of life. There were no footprints, not even any animal tracks and that in itself was a miracle to her. She was still baffled as to how no one had found such a diamond in the rough, but thanks to its overgrown track, fortified gate and high fences, the lake prospered in a world that was dying.

Hearing Daryl close the truck door behind her, she beamed at him and pointed in the direction of a hole in the fence that she’d used as an access point when she lived there. A dense and layered line of undergrowth provided a lot of cover for the man-sized hole in the wire that Jess rolled up and secured as she gestured for Daryl to duck through first. Once he was safely on the other side, she joined him and fastened the fence back together again, leaving it looking as thought it was completely untouched.

From the small, deserted beach, Daryl could see a jetty and one, single boat floating in the middle of the lake. It was a large boat, big enough to hold a family of four, maybe more and looked to be modern and well-kept save for some aesthetic issues like algae growing on the hull. He spied Jess smiling next to him and fiddling with her hands excitedly.

“You kiddin’ me, right now?” He asked “that’s your boat?”

“Well…technically not mine per se” She reasoned “But no one’s claimed it so, yeah. It’s mine.”

“That ain’t just a boat, Jess. That’s a frickin’ yacht” He observed with an impressed tone.

“Uh huh” She agreed as she set off for the jetty. “C’mon, I drove so you’re rowing.”

It was as innocent a request as any, that was as long as Jess kept her ulterior motive to herself. Sitting cross legged opposite Daryl as he rowed them to the side of the yacht didn’t make for a terrible sight at all. In fact, she made a mental note to request that he always do the rowing in future.

When Daryl climbed aboard the deserted, luxury boat, he blinked rapidly at the sight before him. Everything was spotless and as impressive as the outside was, the inside was even more so. A vast living area was split on two levels with a fully fitted kitchen at one end. The while upholstery, accessorized with gold, floral cushions was spotless and aside from a few specks on the carpet, the whole room looked as though it hadn’t long been bought from brand new. The kitchen counter tops were littered with empty cans and packets of food and mounted on one wall, were fishing rods, axes and various tools, including shovels and other gardening equipment.

Jess dumped her bag on the counter top of the kitchen island and began rummaging through it, looking for the packets of nuts and potato chips she’d managed to get from Olivia at the pantry. It was uncommon that she asked for much, so on this one occasion, Olivia agreed to let her have her pick of the snacks and nibbles provided she was conservative with her selection. As she searched and gathered everything up, Daryl slowly paced around the room, trailing his hand over surfaces and spending a while examining the fishing rods on the wall.

“When I found it, it was only occupied by two very well-dressed dead people. They checked out. Blew their own brains out. I tossed them overboard and it became mine. Funny how Gucci belts rot like the rest of them.” Jess explained as she pottered about “I’ve never seen another soul in this place since I’ve been living here. Not even any footprints on the shore. The water is clean and the fish are edible. Like a parallel universe. Without rowing out here it’s pretty difficult to get to so it’s secure enough.”

Daryl reached a cabinet by some dining chairs and a table and opened it up to find a vast array of different types of glasses. One for every possible beverage. He shook his head in disbelief and started down the narrow hall.

“This place is amazin’. Like some kinda famous person lived here.” He commented.

“I know, it’s three times the size of the apartment I had before the turn. I just can’t use it in the winter. The lake freezes over.” She told him “The door at the end is the master bedroom. It’s a little messy. It’s only ever been me here so I didn’t really have a need to make the bed. The door on the left is the bathroom and the one on the right is a smaller bedroom. It’s full of dead crops at the moment.”

Taking everything in, Daryl opened one door at a time, peering inside and sometimes stepping into the rooms before reappearing again and moving onto the next door or cupboard to discover what was inside. To him, it was like entering another world. He’d been on plenty of boats in his time, but never a yacht and never one with such amenities. He noticed that even the toilet was compostable, meaning it probably worked and with the help of a generator for water heating, the shower most likely did too.

Jess watched his amazement with a satisfied smile as she leaned on the kitchen counter. In all the time she’d known him, she’d never seen him so fascinated and interested in something besides hunting and his motorcycle and she felt proud that she was able to provide him with a break from the norm and one that he would enjoy.

“Bring me the generator from the smaller bedroom and we can have dinner here. I’ll pour us some drinks” She stated.

He nodded and ducked into the room, returning seconds later with a small generator which he handed to Jess with an awkward glance. Now, he was all too aware that the two of them were alone and would be for a number of hours in an environment that, aside from Alexandria, was the nicest and most bloodstain free as he’d seen since before the turn. What’s more, it was one of her domains and he felt like a teenager being invited over to a girl’s house while her parents were out. Not knowing what to do with himself, he hovered near the door and scanned the beach in the distance through the window.

“Why don’t you grab a seat outside? I’ll meet you out there.” Jess suggested.

Grunting in agreement, he clicked open the door and entered the warm sunshine. The deck was clean, the chairs and table scrubbed and neatly arranged, in the middle there was a raised semi-circle with fixed bar stools around the outside. He charged over to it, his eyes wide in astonishment just as Jess joined him with a bottle in one hand, two glasses pinched between her fingers and a bag of potato chips under her arm.

“There’s a fuckin’ bar out here?!” He exclaimed. She chuckled at his surprise, placing the bottle and glasses on the top of the bars surface as he took a seat. “See why ya come back here sometimes” he mentioned.

“It’s not just because it’s a nice boat. It’s because I made it mine. Just like the fairground. I worked hard to secure it and make it somewhere I could stay until I had no choice.” She surmised. Daryl hung on every word until he noticed the bottle of whiskey in her hand as she poured their drinks.

“The hell ya get that?” he demanded

“Secret stash. Thought you’d appreciate it. Although it’s Texan, so it’s better than all the rest.” She winked, taking a seat across the bar from him. The surface wasn’t any more than two feet wide, meaning with their hands resting on the top, they were closer than either of them realized. “Think of it as a peace offering. I really am sorry for what I did yesterday.” She met his eye but he quickly looked away while taking a gulp of his drink and wincing at its warmth.

“Guess he’s just more entertainin’.” He let slip, closing his eyes momentarily in frustration as he internally cursed himself for being so off the cuff. Jess stilled with her glass halfway to her mouth. She slowly returned it to the bar and tilted her head at him.

“Why would you say something like that?” She asked.

That just great. You fuckin’ idiot. You’ve screwed yourself over now. May as well just ask what you want to ask.

He fidgeted in his seat and Jess pushed her lips into a thin line when he threw the rest of his drink down his throat and slammed the glass on the bar. She didn’t know why, but his body language had changed considerably in the passing seconds. His jaw was pulled tight and he sat back away from the bar, crossing his big arms across his chest and hugging his torso. He appeared so uncomfortable that Jess almost told him to forget she’d even asked.

“You n’ him, you like a thing or somethin’?” he muttered with his vision cast out to the gently lapping waves around the boat.

“What?! No!” Jess cried, ruining the peaceful sound of the water tickling at the hull “We’re friends. We just get along. That’s all.”

He didn’t move an inch other than performing his usual, deep thinking ritual of nibbling his bottom lip.

“Just…seem close.” He mused.

Jess sighed and did a small double take at the potato chips. She stuffed her hand in the bag and chucked a couple into her mouth, chewing as she picked through possible responses to his observation in her mind. To everyone else, she did seem close to Abe and she knew that. But it was quite clear they were just friends and she enjoyed the kind of banter with him that she had with the male friends she’d had before everything went wrong. But what she had with Abraham was different to that of the connection she felt with Daryl. Very, very different indeed.

“I’m not that close to anyone.” She commented “Except you.”

He nodded once and finally awarded her the eye contact she wanted so she could at least try and work out what was going on in his head. Feeling the need to clarify a significant factor on the topic, she leaned towards him slightly and gestured to him with her glass as she spoke.

“Did you know that Abraham is actually with Rosita? Like, she’s his actual girlfriend.”

Another nod was his sole reply and Jess was altogether more confused than ever. Why would he ever have an issue with her being friends with Abraham if he knew that he was paired off with someone else? It was becoming evident that she was going to have to apply a little more pressure to get to the bottom of what was now a baffling conversation.

“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” She asked.

“Depends how personal.” He grumbled.

“Please” she urged.

“Alright. Fine. Can’t promise i’ma answer.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

Adopting Carol’s directness and ability to demand the truth, Jess readied herself for a flat refusal to reply to her question, but she needed to try anyway. She thought of the possible implications; he could flare up and get angry at her again, he could close up altogether and cement his defenses, or he could give her what she wanted, which was a straight answer. Whichever way, if she didn’t ask, she would never know.

“Were you mad at me because I forgot, or were you mad at me because It was Abraham I was with?”

If he was trying to hide his discomfort, he was failing. Jess observed him sigh loudly, his exhalation laced with a growl and she hoped it wasn’t aimed at her. He leaned forwards on the bar stool, using his elbows to brace himself and taking time to rub at his beard with one hand. The energy he was giving off was palpable and there was a discernible testiness, especially when she heard him cuss under his breath. She didn’t know why and it may have been out of place during such a tense moment, but she panicked and decided to top up both glasses and help herself to more chips. By the time she’d finished tinkering with everything on the surface, she found him glaring right at her.

“Both” He uttered.

Carol was right

“You were jealous.” She acknowledged.

His eyes dropped and he stared down into his drink for a moment. Having not touched his refill, Jess wondered if it was wise to be drinking during such a taxing conversation. He chewed on his bottom lip and she waited with bated breath for his response. She was learning; just wait and he would answer. Push him, and he would retreat into himself.

“Maybe” He grunted. “I dunno”

She exhaled a large breath and blinked as she looked down at the decking between her knees. Terrified of prodding at his temper again, she was at a loss for what to say and the silence between them was thickening. She forced herself to speak, having no idea if he was jealous in a romantic way or because she spent time with Abraham in general. She decided to play it safe and be honest, to an extent.

“OK. Um. OK.” She started “You…” She reached across the bar, gently placing her hand on his forearm. “…are my favorite person. Ever. I have never met anybody like you before and I highly doubt I ever will again.”

“Ya ain’t gotta do that.” He snapped, moving away from her and rising to his feet.

“Do what?” She inquired.

He flicked a dismissive hand in her direction. “I don’t need that reassurance bullshit.”

While she was busy fretting about Daryl’s temper, she’d neglected to maintain her own and it rushed to the surface at his comment. Before she could contain it, she was on her feet and slapping both hands on the bar.

“It’s not bullshit.” She told him. “And I think you do need it. No matter how vulnerable it makes you feel. I’m trying to be honest with you and it’s fucking terrifying and kind of irritating so if you could take me seriously, I’d appreciate it.”

Shocked at her clap back, he let a let out a brief huff and quickly diminished the slight smile of disbelief on his lips. It dawned on him from the irate look on her face that he’d offended her and a wave of regret engulfed him. He cleared his throat and gave her a quick nod, hoping that she would recognize that reassurance was not something he’d ever had the luxury of experiencing and therefore, was way out of his depth in dealing with it.

“Can I continue? Or would you like to pity yourself a little more? I don’t have all night” She spat.

It was one of the things he now knew he liked about her; the fact that she wouldn’t take any crap and if she was pushed, she could fight back like the best of them. He suspected she was always like that but it was heavily masked when he knew her back at the quarry due to the big personalities and overwhelming similarities Sarah and Jodie had to high school bullies. Showing her that he was, in fact, serious. He sat back down on his bar stool and managed to hold back the need to smile at her defiance.

“I like Abraham. He’s nice and funny and we share a lot of the same interests now I want to get to know my firearms. He’s the type of guy that I just get along with. But he’s not you. I’ve never had a connection to someone like I do with you. It’s weird and nice and scary all at once. So, there really is no need for you to be jealous.” She paused “He just flirts outrageously with me from time to time”

He watched her closely as he exhaled slowly and Jess secretly worried that she might have made things worse by the expression on his face. He seemed troubled, almost pained but he was too difficult to read. He looked away, back at the beach while he finished up his second drink, placing the glass on the table in front of them and taking in the sparkling view of the water and the clear blue sky. Jess finished her drink and accepted that it may well have been the end of the conversation and she still didn’t feel like they’d reached any kind of compromise. It felt unfinished but she was at a complete loss as to what else she could say to him. So much time passed that she felt her stomach growl and picked up the bag of chips, nibbling noisily on them and wondering why the hell they were even still sitting there.

“Can’t blame him. You’re real pretty.” Daryl mumbled out of nowhere.

She rapidly turned her head to face him, her mouth falling open, full of partially chewed potato chips. She was astonished and could only gawp at him for what seemed like forever. Daryl was positive he could have counted at least a full minute before she spoke.

“That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” She whispered before quickly chewing the rest of what was in her mouth and swallowing hard.

Daryl had now waded so far out of his comfort zone that he didn’t seem to be giving any thought to what came out of his mouth which was unheard of when he was with anyone else but Jess. Somehow, she made him say and do things that were out of character and how she managed it was a complete mystery to him. Nervously, he played with a loose piece of thread hanging from the bottom of his shirt under his vest with his head dipped, but he could sense the burning of the tips of his ears.

What the fuck am I doing?

“Oh my god.” Jess whispered to herself.

“C’mon, don’t make it no big deal” He pleaded self-consciously.

“You think-you think I’m pretty?” She stammered having already made it a huge deal. It was a first. Having believed for her whole life that she was not the girl that guys wanted to date, Jess hadn’t been the happy recipient of such compliments and while other girls reveled in them, she could merely hope that one day, she would be able to do the same. She didn’t see herself as pretty, or attractive in the slightest and as a result, she struggled to take Daryl’s admission as gospel. Now, she was the one that needed the reassurance.

“Yeah.” He grunted.

“Really? For real?” She continued. If she was coming across as a little flabbergasted, she didn’t care in the slightest.

“S’what I said, ain’t it?” He snipped at her, feeling out of control and exposed. After a deep breath he regained his composure and softened his voice “Course I do, dumb-ass.”

“Thank you.” She blushed “that’s a huge compliment. Especially coming from you.”

Her cheeks and nose were raging with warmth and she could see her reflection in the chrome beam around the bar’s counter. She was a deep shade of red and expected Daryl to be smiling at her smugly like he always did when he’d managed to embarrass her. But when she flickered her eyes up to his face, she was met with confusion.

“Why?” he asked.

She shifted about in her seat and huffed nervously. Should she have another drink, or was that a bad idea? It would provide her with the liquid courage to say what she wanted, but once it was said, it couldn’t be taken back and there was one, sizeable confession that she did not want to admit off the back of a drunken conversation on a boat that wasn’t likely to remember. She pushed the bottle away and Daryl noted her intention, internally agreeing with her.

“Um…” she tried “you even seen yourself?” She said under her breath

Daryl couldn’t help it, he flinched.

Does this mean she still has a crush on me?

“I ain’t nothin” He shrugged.

“Oh, shut up.” She scoffs with a small, nervous laugh ��badass, big-armed, blue-eyed archer with a soft side. Yeah. Sure. You’re ‘nothing’” Her air quotations only made it all seem even more ridiculous. Like Jess, Daryl was never on the receiving end of a compliment, let alone so many in one sentence and from someone that occupied his thoughts on an uncomfortably regular basis.

“Get outta here, girl.” He laughed shyly.

That really what she thinks of me?!

The delicate pink hue across his cheeks and nose diminished rapidly but she loved every single second of the sight of it she did that. She made him blush and that told her that maybe, just maybe, he was happy that she thought him to be more than just a redneck from the mountains.

“You’re just as bad at taking a compliment as I am, it seems.” She pointed out.

“Not used to it.” He told her.

“Same” She agreed “You believe me though, right?”

“You believe me?” he shot back, feeling braver once his cheeks had simmered down and locking eyes with her.

“I believe that’s your opinion, yes.” She expressed.

“Same with you.” He smiled.

Neither of them could tell how much time had passed between Daryl's last comment and when he finally jolted and coughed, breaking the tense silence around them and the searing eye contact that had left them both teetering on the edge of making some kind of move, even if neither of them knew exactly what.

They finished off the bag of chips and after Jess retreated inside to fix them up some food, Daryl hovered around the deck, pacing and thinking that this might be the closest thing he’d ever had to a date. That was, if she felt the same. He knew she thought him to be decent looking and that thought alone was enough to make him smirk to himself. The longer he spent with her and the more he tested the water with flirtatious lines and compliments, the surer he was that he liked her more than he liked anybody else. He’d never breathed a word to anyone, but Merle had known it too and on the odd occasion, he wished he could just speak to his brother and ask him how he managed to pick up on it before he even had a clue himself. One thing loomed over it all; she was his best friend, his one and only exceptionally close soul who he would miss horrendously if it were to change

He refused any more whiskey for fear of bringing an abrupt end to what was becoming one of, if not the best days he’d had since the turn, maybe even ever. His limits when he drank became blurred and his personality changed, he altered to a more aggressive, blunt and unpredictable version of himself. A version that he hated and never, ever wanted to inflict upon Jess. Far from wanting to tell her as much, he simply suggested that he should save the rest and make it last.

When night began to fall and the crystal clear, blue sky made way for the velvet blanket of night with it’s twinkling stars, Jess and Daryl lay on two sun loungers on the decking, both staring up to the sky and enjoying the blissful, noiseless ambiance of being on a boat with the best company they could have wished for. With no more than a few inches between their sun loungers, Jess wished she could just reach out and take his hand on more than one occasion. But it would stay as a subtle fantasy and something she could only hope would be allowed to happen one day.

“Your leg seems a lot better” She observed.

“Yeah. At last.” He replied. He was positioned with one arm behind his head, his black shirt pulled up and revealing a slither of bare skin above his waistband. Jess had already clocked it, and shifted onto her side so she could admire the view, which was turning out to be much more entertaining than the stars. “Listen, thanks for everythin’ ya did.” He continued “I know I ain’t easy to be around sometimes.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ll always be here for you.” She wanted him to know. “Although, I should point out that you’re lucky I was even around to help you. My mother almost became a nun and if she had, I’d never have been born.”

He turned his head to see her grinning at him. He wished he knew more about her, about her past and who she was before. He knew of her nerdy side and it wasn’t lost on him that she was sometimes shy and nervous, disbelieving that he could possibly think she was anything other than the ‘little, fat chick’ that his brother had referred to her as. He wanted to know more and he raised an eyebrow in interest.

“Really? A nun?” He questioned

“Yep and if it wasn’t for my love of a couple of the deadly sins, namely Gluttony and Sloth, I may have followed suit. Right into the convent.” She said. Her finger traced along the seam of the sun lounger, up and down in front of her.

“Can't see you as a nun” He chuckled

“Hey, don’t mock. I’m a nice, innocent girl” She insisted “I mean, I certainly wasn’t going to miss one of the sins. Never really been the object of anyone’s Lust.”

It was a tempting concept to him, to tell her that she most certainly was the object of someone’s lust now and before he could control it, the words were tumbling from his lips, albeit in an a barely-there whisper as he looked back up at the sky.

“Yeah, that ya know of.”

For a split second, Jess almost laughed out loud from thinking his comment was intended to be funny or some kind of joke. But when he didn’t laugh and acted as though he’d said nothing at all, she suddenly grasped that he had meant to think it rather than voice it.

Does that mean he…? No. Surely it doesn’t mean…? Oh, god!

Once again, her face exploded with heat and she rolled over onto her back, praying that he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of how coy she’d become.

But he already had. From his peripheral vision, he could see her raise her hands and cover her face for a few seconds while his heart raced in his chest at the prospect of her overhearing something that was supposed to be an innermost thought. He lay still on the lounger and acted as though he had no idea she was listening, ignorance was bliss.

She swung her legs over the lounger and announced that they should be getting back, it was dark and they had to hunt in the morning. Automatically, Daryl mirrored her when she stood but had very little desire to go back to Alexandria at all. The pause between them had been laden with so many things that had gone unsaid. Neither one of them were able to look away at first, neither of them wanted to.

“Why don’t we just stay here?” He suggested, lifting his arm and scratching at the back of his head. It wasn’t needed and it was more of a grounding gesture, to make him come across as certain and confident of his proposal when he was actually quite the opposite. In reality and to Jess, it made him look like a nervous teenager.

“We have to hunt in the morning” She reminded him.

“Can just get up before sunrise n’ go straight there.” He put forward. “I mean, um…it just- it makes more sense than drivin’ back in the dark. Y’know, safer n’all.”

She hoped he didn’t pick up on the slow and deep breath she hauled in before agreeing to his idea. She wanted nothing more than to spend the night on the boat with him and his suggestion had both startled and pleased her. After a good-natured argument over who was sleeping where, it was determined that Daryl wasn’t to sleep on anything but a bed because of his leg and because Jess had thrown out the spare mattress to make room for her crops, there was only the master bedroom left. Having shared a bed before, they both set about acting as if it wasn’t an issue, that it was nothing more than two friends sharing some space but in the back of his mind Daryl was anxious and so was Jess.

She pulled the ladder up at the side of the boat, preventing anyone from climbing aboard during the night and locked the door, switching off the decking lights. In the bedroom, she lit two pillar candles on the shelf above the bed which were a brilliant arc of gold in the blackness, rendering the shapes of the room so muted they turned a deep grey. Daryl sat up on one side of the bed, his boots left on the floor beside him. He shamelessly watched Jess through a side glance as she sat on her side of the bed and peeled off her layers one by one. Her jacket, her armored clothing and her boots. Leaving only her camo pants and a black tank top. There was a dull ache across her ribs from her injury at the fairground that was still sometimes problematic. With her back to him, she tugged the elastic from her hair which held her braid in place and raked her fingers through her hair, sending a shimmering curtain of waves across her shoulders.

He closed his eyes and looked away, shrugging off his leather vest and enduring the guilt stinging him for the way he thought of her sometimes. He had little interest in objectifying her, but he was human and his appreciation of her was now reaching much further than that of a friend who thought her to be pretty. He waited for her to settle beside him with her legs drawn up and glanced over at her with a small smile, their shoulders were a hair's breadth apart on the headboard and Daryl did his best to ignore the pleasant warmth that he felt emanating on his bare shoulder from her relaxing next to him.

“Never shown anybody the boat until today” She said thoughtfully.

“Appreciate it.” He replied sincerely. “Needed to get out n’ do somethin’. Goin’ crazy sittin’ on my ass all day. Carol keeps harpin’ on, throwin’ that damn physio book at me.”

Jess giggled happily and rolled her eyes at him, not bothering to mention that if it wasn’t Carol hassling him about physio, it would be her.

“Was good to see one of the places ya live too.” He added.

“It was a nice night. I had fun.” She concluded. It was the most fun she’d had in as far back as she could remember and there was not a single doubt in her mind that she would have had anywhere near as much of a perfect night if she was there with anyone else. She scanned the wall opposite, making animals and mythical creatures from the shapes that flickered there and she was content. As content as she’d been in recent weeks, maybe months. His company beside her just seemed right. It made sense and she couldn’t wait for a repeat of the last few hours.

“I ask ya somethin’?” He whispered

“Sure”

“Will ya let me visit ya sometimes? At the fairground. I mean, actually let me in.” He requested.

By showing him her floating fortress, a part of her survival story and a place she sometimes called home, she’d already let him into a small part of her world. The fairground was only the next step.

“OK. But only you” She agreed with a wide grin. “Why do you want to visit me there anyway?”

In the yellow glow she saw him lick his lips and start to shake his head before pausing and fixing in her such a penetrating stare the skin on the back of her neck prickled and her palms began to sweat.

“You know.” He breathed.

“No, I don’t.” She whispered back.

It was there, on the tip of his tongue waiting to be released. The huge secret he held locked in his heart. She’d come along and picked the lock and drawn it out and now it was teetering on the edge and he was so tempted. So, tempted to just tell her.

Jess, I really like you.

“I rea…” But then, his gusto vanished “…I don’t like not seeing you”

Just like that, it was gone and he resigned himself to the fact that he would never have the courage to confess how he really felt. Not without the certainty that she felt the same. However, the words that came out of his mouth were not untrue and were enough to insert a sparkle in her eyes and create a suspense between them that he really wasn’t ready for.

“I don’t like not seeing you either” She told him.

His eyes dropped to her lips and she held her breath, unsure by what was happening but feeling certain that the energy around them had changed drastically into pure suspense. She didn’t like to assume, but she was willing him to kiss her. Repeating it in her mind over and over, all the while struggling to comprehend that anything of the sort could be happening to her. There was a vulnerability to him, a look of intent while his lips said nothing and it made her heart flutter. The perfect blend of sexy and adorable.

Daryl was literally on the verge and his mind was engaged in a war that was getting louder by the second. If he kissed her there and then it would be the first move that he’d made on someone he genuinely liked and that would be an achievement in itself, let alone that it would be on Jess. The only girl to ever have made him so crazy, he had endured the resentment, inadequacy and helplessness of jealousy. Uncertain if she would back away and take their friendship with her, it wasn’t enough. He blinked and broke the chains between them, snapping Jess out of her trance.

“Should get some sleep.” He mumbled.

“Yeah.” She quickly agreed. “Goodnight.” Before either of them could say anymore, Jess had slipped under the covers and dragged them so far up, her head was barely visible and there she stayed. On her side, facing away from him, for the entire night.

“You got it bad, little brother. Look at you, all snuggly n’ shit. Since when did you get to be such a pussy?”

Daryl shot up from the pillow, unable to catch his breath at first. Merle. He’d heard Merle. His head snapped from side to side, scanning the room. He’d definitely heard him. Then, he was there. In the corner, shrouded in darkness and balancing on a dresser stool, smoking a cigarette. Daryl couldn’t smell it, even though the smoke filled the room. He glanced down at Jess, motionless. Fast asleep. A throaty chuckle emanated from the darkened corner.

“M-Merle?” Daryl croaked.

“Us Dixon’s always had to fight for what’s ours.” Merle pointed out as he leaned closer, into the light. His face was mostly obscured but Daryl could see the bullet hole in his white vest, a deep crimson circle on his chest. His mind raced. Where did he come from? How is he alive? He turned into a Walker; he was gone. It didn’t make sense. “We was never good for much, but we was always survivors n’ ain’t much use in survivin’ if ya miserable as sin. All them folks in them nice houses? They all think you’re just redneck trash and one day, they’re gonna scrape you off their shoes like dog shit. Need to show ‘em. Ain’t nothin’ like provin’ folks wrong”

“You died. I saw you die. I put you down.” Daryl breathed jaggedly

“Are we ever really gone?” Merle sneered “Where’s the fun in that, now?”

“What are you doin’ here?” Daryl asked

Merle nodded towards the sleeping form of Jess beside him, clutching the covers to her neck and breathing a slow and steady rhythm.

“She’s a good one.” He stated “A little straight-laced but she’s got stones bigger than yours Darlina.”

Daryl's breathing was still labored and rapid at the sight of his dead brother talking to him from the corner of the room.

“You don’t know nothin’ ‘bout her.” He growled.

“Oh, but I do. That’s the fine thing ‘bout bein’ dead. You see all kinds of shit n’ I see you followin’ the little, fat chick around like some kinda hound dog beggin’ for a treat. You know what you gotta do. I told ya. So, why ain’t ya done it yet?”

Dead? Daryl began to hyperventilate. He was talking to his brother from beyond the grave. Shock washed over him and he blinked and shook his head, but the effigy remained. Merle had not moved a muscle. The smoke from his cigarette was turning everything cloudy, engulfing the room in smoke as if a fire were ablaze somewhere. Jess continued to sleep soundly, the smoke forming a funnel as it entered her nose upon each inhalation.

“Put the smoke out, ya gonna choke her to death.” Daryl ordered. But Merle merely grinned.

“Well?” He asked.

“I-I can’t.” He stammered “It ain’t that simple.”

“Oh, you ‘can’t’?” Merle mocked with pursed lips and a sniveling tone “Buck the fuck up, boy. All those years I spent, tryin’ to make a man of you and this is what I get?”

“It ain’t like that for her, bro.” Daryl mumbled in defeat. “She deserves better anyways.”

“Now you listen to me” Merle announced as he rose from the seat and hovered in the corner. The shadows cast a blackness over most of his face, leaving one, piercing blue eye scowling at Daryl. The smoke around them grew thicker and thicker and seeped into his lungs, it was hard to breathe, difficult to suck in a shallow breath. “I always said ain’t nobody ever gonna care ‘bout you but me, little brother. But I’m off meetin’ my maker… or, down in the depths with a whiskey in one hand and a bag of crystal meth in the other, whichever way ya wanna look at it. So, you gotta take your chance on her.” He paused to look over at Jess, cocking his head to one side thoughtfully. It was like the shadows followed his movement, keeping him concealed “She did right by me, would have been dead a whole lot sooner if it wasn’t for her. Like I said, ain’t no point survivin’, lettin’ all them pansy asses thinkin’ you a damn fool, when you could have somethin’ better.”

Rubbing his eyes with one hand, Daryl expected Merle to have vanished by the time he reopened his eyes, but still, he lingered in his cloud of intoxicating, yet odorless smoke. He hadn’t told Jess, but Merle had indeed told him what he needed to do and so far, he’d ignored the advice given to him.

“I need to know for sure, man. Can’t lose her.” He told him.

Merle slowly unfurled an arm, coated in blood and dust, his hand missing and replaced by a metal prosthetic and bayonet. He pointed it at Jess, stepping out from the corner and Daryl’s eyes widened at the multiple, bloody stab wounds to the side of his face. His stomach clenched and he felt nauseous. Stab wounds that he was forced to inflict. Violence again at his brother, or the shell that was left of him, at his own hand.

“This aint sure enough for ya, dummy?” Merle questioned with a rattle from deep in his chest. “You can’t see what’s right in front of ya. Time’s a wastin’, Daryl. Get to it.”

The smoke was now so thick that Daryl could barely see his brother anymore. He sat up further on the bed and squinted through the smog. Jess was blanketed in swirls of grey mass, undetectable. Holding his blue gaze, Merle smiled at Daryl, the half of his face that was still intact a painful reminder of everything he’d lost.

“M’ sorry I couldn’t save ya.” Daryl uttered, his voice a husky whisper “I just want my brother back”

“Don’t be no sissy” Merle smirked. “It’s time to wake up.”

“What?” Daryl asked, confused

“Wake up, little brother.”

His entire body jolted and his eyes snapped open. The room was clear, the air not clogged with smog and his lungs able to work properly again. The corner of the room was illuminated by the slither of the sun’s rays working their way through the drapes as morning crept in. He blinked and was suddenly rooted to the spot when he noticed the position that he was curled into. His body was flush against Jess’s back, his head resting on her hair and his face a mere brush away from the skin of her neck. To make matters worse, his hand was resting on her waist. He racked his brain to try and figure out how he managed to end up here, on the other side of the bed and spooning the girl he liked.

He regulated his breathing so as not to wake her and lifted his hand from her side, slowly rolling over and away from her. His other arm was entirely numb, his fingers starting to tingle when he flexed his knuckles. He sat up against the headboard, craning his neck to try and see if Jess was awake and was relieved to find that she was still fast asleep.

“What the hell….?” He said to himself under his breath.

Merle. He thought. If he was visiting him in his dreams it would be just his style to make sure he left with one more, embarrassing parting gift by ensuring Daryl woke in position he couldn’t explain and that would leave them both red faced. He was grateful that Jess was still asleep and hadn’t stirred when he moved or he would have a lot of explaining to do. It wasn’t his nature to be so bold as to cross such a physical boundary, especially without permission and that only added to the feeling of bafflement and worry that he experienced as a result. He decided to get up and head outside for a smoke before he woke Jess up for the hunt.

On her side of the bed, Jess’s eyes sprang open when the door to the bedroom closed softly and she rolled over onto her back, laying both of her hands across her forehead and gawping at the ceiling. Little did Daryl know; Jess had been awake long before he was. His murmurings and flinching in his dreams had coaxed her from a deep sleep and she lay there trying to decipher his muffled and almost inaudible ramblings. When he’d finally quietened, she was stunned to find he curled up behind her, easing his face into the gap behind her head and gently sliding his hand onto her waist. Once the initial shock had faded, she allowed herself to enjoy this one, small joy. The sensation of being snuggled into, having someone that wanted to be so close to her he had mimicked the position of her body and fit to her like a jigsaw piece. Because that’s what he was to her, this missing piece to a complex puzzle that had been destroyed when the world went away but was now coming back to life. The pictures were brightening and the edges weren’t so frayed. He was repairing it single-handedly and she let herself reap the benefits, closing her eyes and reveling in his close proximity.

So, that’s what it would be like. She thought I could definitely get used to that.

She found him on the deck, sitting on the edge with his legs dangling from the side. She offered him a coffee cup and settled beside him while sipping her own. The sun was beginning to peep over the canopy of trees beyond the beach and Jess had forgotten just how beautiful it was at the boat when the sun was rising. Aside from a quiet greeting and thanking her for the coffee, Daryl said nothing, his legs swinging back and forth and his attention moving from the smoke he was finishing, to his coffee cup and then up to the sunrise.

“Sleep OK?” Jess squeaked, unintentionally sounding a little more awkward than she would have liked.

“Yeah.” He nodded without turning to look at her. “Had the weirdest dream.”

Of course, she knew he’d been dreaming, she’d watched him whimper and mumble and jolt in his sleep. But she chose to claim ignorance, thinking it to be the better option than admitting to watching him sleep like some kind of stalker.

“What about?” She inquired

“Merle.” He stated simply.

The lack of information was no more than Jess could have expected and she figured that should he want to offer up anything else, he would have done so.

“Are you alright?” She asked in the knowledge that it couldn’t have been an altogether good thing to be dreaming about his deceased brother.

“Mmhmm” He hummed, quickly glancing at her and attempting to assure her that he wasn’t as unsettled as he felt.

“You miss him.” She said. It was a statement rather than a question, but one Daryl needed to respond to.

“Everyday.” He mumbled.

Jess gently reached out and squeezed his forearm. It was a motion that lasted less than two seconds before she was wandering back inside but he remained where he was, staring down at where his skin was tingling from her touch. Merle’s words floated through his mind.

‘You know what you gotta do. I told ya. So, why ain’t ya done it yet?’

Wandering through the trees as a duo was something Daryl had been looking forward to, as he always did when Jess joined him on the hunt. But hunting that morning was more strenuous than Jess could have planned for. The heat was so strong it was like wading around in an oven and sweat soaked through her clothes, which she was beginning to wish were not mostly black. On top of being on the verge of heatstroke, her lower abdomen coiled and tensed as though it was being wrung out and it meant she often had to stop and take a deep breath to stave off the pain. Daryl noticed straight away, keeping a close eye on her before she halted completely and clamped her hands around her middle. He was aware of the high temperatures but couldn’t say he was suffering as much as Jess appeared to be and he ran to her aid, taking hold of her arms and standing at her side to steady her.

“What’s goin’ on? You’re burnin’ up. What hurts?” He pleaded but Jess just brushed him off, determined to press on and finish their task.

“I’ll be fine.” She sighed

He didn’t argue at first, but it wasn’t sitting well with Daryl. Not one little bit and his focus shifted from hunting to watching her as she staggered through the woods, clinging to tree trunks and sucking in sharp breaths.

Jess was horrified. She knew exactly what was wrong with her but in the company of not only a male, but one she was hopelessly in love with, she was left with little option but to soldier on and pretend that the crippling menstrual cramps that were wracking her body didn’t exist. She cursed herself for not planning this better. Thinking she would have been back at the fairground the night before; she’d neglected to remember when Daryl suggested staying at the boat that there was a very good reason why she wanted to be at home and behind closed doors. She’d got herself so excited about the prospect of him wanting to stay longer and be alone with her, that she found herself in the most humiliating and awful of situations.

“Jess, just go back. Go to the infirmary or to Aaron’s.” Daryl tried from behind her.

“Did you not hear me? I said I’m fine. I can handle it.” She snapped back at him.

Her outburst had surprised him but he put it down to her being in a reasonably evident amount of pain and being stubborn enough not to do anything about it. She surged ahead, stopping briefly to check for tracks on the ground. Daryl hung back, hovering around her like an overprotective husband and It was fortunate that he did because Jess soon succumbed to the pain in her abdomen and ended up leaning against a tree, doubled over and baring her teeth.

He wasn’t going to take no for an answer and if she wanted to fight, he’d fight her, but he was not leaving her out there to trundle through the woods when she should have been in the infirmary. He ran to her, pulling her hair from her face and noticing how sweaty her forehead was.

“Nope. C’mon. I’m takin’ ya back.” He told her as he looped her arm over his shoulder.

“No!” She cried “No! I’m fine!

“Shut up” he groaned, hooking his arm around the back of her knees and lifting her from the floor. She clung to his shoulders and glowered at him.

“Remember that Walker alarm I said I had back at the quarry? Well, if you don’t put me down this instant, I’ll scream at the top of my lungs and have every rotting corpse within a twenty-mile radius hot on your heels. I said I am fine. I’m not going to toss my cookies all over the damn woods.”

Daryl sighed loudly and began to take the same path they’d followed on the way out.

“Yeah, big threat.” He stated “I don’t care. Set Walkers on me. Fight me if ya want. Ya ain’t stayin’ out here.”

It was becoming clearer to Jess that the only way she was going to get out of this aside from actually fighting him, which she did not want to do, was to tell him the truth. She was a private person when it came to such issues and after the tampon incident at the hotel, she hoped that she could avoid any further references to such things. But it was not to be and she was now backed into a corner. She swallowed hard and released a frustrated and throaty growl of frustration.

“OK. Fine” She complained “I know what it is and it’s nothing to worry about. I have cramps. Cramps that I get every month. Feminine…cramps. I get hot and irritable too. So, I don’t need a doctor, nor do I need my gay friend. What I need is to continue with my day with my dignity intact and lord knows it’s all but abandoned me right now.”

Daryl stopped walking and tried to speak but nothing materialized at first. He stood there with her clutched to his chest, his lips parted and his mind blank.

Well, this is new. He eventually thought.

He switched direction, swerving from one path to another without a word and carried on, refusing to put her down.

“What are you…? Daryl?!” She demanded.

“Just shut up, Jess!” He suddenly argued when his temper had worn thin. “There ain’t no way I’m lettin’ ya hunt in this state. What kind of guy would I be if I just fuckin’ left ya to it, huh?! Ya can’t even walk. So, I’m takin’ ya home.”

“Oh my god, this is so humiliating.” She huffed under her breath as Daryl ignored her protests and ducked under low hanging trees, carrying her back to the fairground.

Outside the infirmary, he tapped his foot on the porch nervously. Delivering Jess to her home had been one thing, but leaving her inside her gate with no painkillers and extremely mad at him was another altogether. When he left the fairground, he told he would be back with something to help, quite what he was referring to was lost on him, but he had to do something. Jess raged at him that she wanted to be left to her own devices and that she didn’t need him to return. But he could be just as hard headed as her and the thought of him leaving her in so much pain was not a nice one at all.

The door to the infirmary swung open and Denise appeared, clearly not expecting to find Daryl standing on the other side of the door.

“Daryl. Hi.” She greeted.

“Hey Doc. Need ya help with somethin’.” He informed her quietly. She noted the low tone of his voice. Drawing her hoodie around her body, she stepped closer to prevent him from having to speak up.

“Okay, are you alright? Is it your leg?” She questioned with a concerned look.

“Uh, no. It’s Jess. She got this issue. Need some help from a…a female.” He tried to explain. All the while, he hoped that he would not have to be forced to explain in any more detail and that Denise would just connect the dots.

“Oh? What kind of issue are we talking about?” She asked.

No, he was not going to get away with minimal details. Uncomfortable, he shifted his weight and leaned on the doorframe, wondering when he'd transformed into that guy, the guy that runs out to the store to buy his girl sanitary products and chocolate.

“A uh, a monthly one.” Was all he could think of to say.

“Oh!” Denise exclaimed, finally figuring out what the awkward and clueless man in front of her meant “What does she need?”

Daryl unintentionally waved his hand around in front of his own stomach “She’s got these… cramps.”

A slightly bemused expression crossed her face before she remembered her professionalism and shrank back into the room. “I’ll be right back.”

Left on his own, Daryl slowly walked the length of the porch and back again with his hands pushed into the pocket of his ripped, black jeans. He struggled to believe the situation he found himself in and never could have imagined over a year ago that he would be in the middle of the apocalypse, begging a doctor for help because the girl he liked had cramps. It was a ridiculous notion, but there was no way he was about to leave Jess and pretend that everything was fine, when it wasn’t. He considered for a moment what Merle would have said and cringed slightly at the thought.

Yeah, you’d fuckin’ love this, wouldn’t you? You asshole.

Denise returned with a small, plastic bag containing two pills and a bright blue hot water bottle. She held them out to Daryl who took them from her grasp.

“I’m not supposed to dispense pain meds for this kind of thing because it goes away on its own but for you to be standing here, it must be bad. So, keep it to yourself and give her those. I am also prescribing this hot water bottle, I filled it for you, and some light exercise.” She explained to a nodding and uneasy Daryl.

“That it?” he checked “There nothin’ else that helps?”

Denise knew there was and although she thought it to be admirable and brave that Daryl had shown up out of nowhere to ask for such assistance and she wasn't entirely aware of his relationship, or lack thereof with Jess, the temptation was too great to ignore.

“There’s also orgasms.” She shrugged as she tried with all her might not to burst into fits of laughter at the shock on his face. “Y’know, one or… two players, if you’re game. But you might want to buy her a drink first.”

She was met with a thick silence followed by a grunt. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I’m sorry. I’m kidding.” She laughed “I mean, orgasms do work though.”

“Pain meds, hot water bottle, exercise. Got it.” He clarified very deliberately while holding up the hot water bottle. “Thanks Doc.” He mumbled with a quick jump down the steps.

“Daryl?” She called out to him. He glanced over his shoulder to see her about to close the door. “It’s cute. What you’re doing for her. It’s…it’s cute.”

“Yeah, keep that to yourself.” He huffed.

He waited ten minutes with no response from inside the fairground and was growing increasingly irritated as each minute passed. From his place at the gate, he could see through the disused rides to the door of the diner that Jess now called home and he wondered if, with some well-aimed throws, he could make her mad enough to open the door and yell at him. At least then, he would have a shot at passing on the painkillers he’d endured a very awkward encounter for. Just as he began to look around on the ground for some small rocks to throw, he heard the door swing open inside. Jess appeared and walked along the path towards him, wearing some baggy, grey sweatpants and a Star Wars T-shirt. She’d scraped her hair up into a messy bun and wore her unlaced military boots, pulled open at the top.

“Thought I told you I didn’t need you to come back here.”

Daryl said nothing, instead opting to press the hot water bottle against the fence with one hand and display the tiny packet of pills in his palm with the other. Jess was quickly put in her place without a word and swallowed the anger she’d felt when she noticed his valiant effort. Now not angry at all, she was touched. He’d gone out of his way to help her even though she was being difficult and bordering on rude. She edged closer until she was standing inches from his face with the fence in between them.

“You didn’t have to do that.” She croaked.

“Don’t like you bein’ in pain.” He uttered.

He didn’t need to ask to be let in. Jess unlocked the gate and stepped aside, to allow him past. He waited for her to secure the lock and let her lead the way to the first time he would be allowed inside her home. Guiding him inside, he saw that it was an old cafeteria but it barely had the same characteristics anymore. She’d ripped out the insides and turned it into a home with a bed, animal skulls decorating the walls, a working stove and lights powered by a generator in what was once the diner’s kitchen. Her windows were blacked out to avoid any passers-by noticing the place was occupied. Handmade bookshelves were stocked to the brim and a stack of journals rested on the top. It was apparent to Daryl that Jess liked her personalised, home comforts and she wasn’t about to let the end of the world change that. Her wooden-framed bed, which he assumed was brought in from a nearby house, was covered in animal furs and blankets and a thick rug covered the main living area, giving it a homely and warm feel.

Jess climbed onto the bed and held out a hand, gesturing to the other end of the mattress. Dutifully, Daryl accepted her wordless offer for him to make himself at home and sat down before handing her the pain meds. She ripped the bag open so quickly it reminded Daryl of some addicts he’d seen when he’d delivered their fixes for his brother. Only this was much more innocent and once she swallowed the medication, he instantly felt like he’d made a difference.

She gingerly pulled the hot water bottle towards her from beside him and placed it between her bent legs and her stomach as she leaned back against the pillows that she’d propped up behind her.

“Doc says you need to do some light exercise.” Daryl relayed.

“I will, once the pain subsides a little.” She replied shyly.

He could tell she was still quite disturbed from having to admit something so personal to him and guessed it was made worse when he’d showed up with help after refusing to let it go. But she was coming around, he could see it in the soft way she looked at him every now and then.

“Anythin’ else I can do?” He asked.

Jess didn’t know what to make of it all. She was skin crawlingly humiliated and wished she could turn back the clock and change the events of the last few hours, but at the same time, she wouldn’t have been able to witness the gallant efforts of Daryl and his quest to rid her of the pain she suffered. If it wasn’t confirmation that he cared about her more than he cared about anyone else, she didn’t know what was.

You’re a sweetheart under there, aren’t you?

“No.” She whispered. But really, she was trying to think of a way to ask him to stay. “Do you…?” She started “…Actually never mind.”

“Naw, what?”

“Was going to ask if you wanted to say with me. But I know you’re probably weirded out and that’s okay. So, forget it.” She said, waving her hand in the air as if she were literally brushing the idea out of the room.

“Don’t be stupid. Course I’ll stay.” He affirmed. Leaning across to her nightstand, he slid a pack of cards from the surface and held them up with a raised eyebrow. Jess smiled at him and gave him a small nod and they spent the next couple of hours playing poker. Jess thought herself to be quite the advanced player, but was put to shame when Daryl won every single game and told her that losing wasn’t an option when you grew up in bars and didn’t eat if you didn’t win your bets.

Jess couldn’t remember a time when she’d had more fun doing nothing of significance other than playing cards and laughing with someone that she credited with being one of the best people she’d ever met. She could have sat there for hours more, just reveling in him smiling, which was something he rarely did around anyone else but her. She noticed it on runs, during meetings, even when he was with Rick. His smiles were reserved for her and if she was his only reason to reveal such a side of him, then that was more than good enough for her.

Daryl didn’t want to leave but when he noticed the sun starting to go down through the one, unblocked window, he figured he’d best get back to the house and offer up at least some explanation for where he’d been for the past two days and one night. That was the problem with living in such a close-knit place, his housemates would only send out a search party if they thought him to be missing and that put lives in danger. It was tempting to check in, then head back to be with Jess, but he didn’t want to push his luck or outstayed his welcome. Being in her home was like jumping a huge hurdle and he realized he’d finally broken down her barrier and been let in not just to the building but to a higher level of their friendship that spoke volumes of her trust in him.

“You feelin’ better?” He asked while walking the path to the gate with her in tow.

“Yes. Thank you. For everything.” She replied. He stopped and turned back to her, pushing past the urge to wrap her in his arms, something he’d never wanted to do to anybody. “I’m kind of embarrassed.” She admitted.

“Don’t be. It’s just me.” He told her, lifting a hand and nudging at her elbow with the back of his fingers

She could have put it down to hormones, or said the moon phases made her crazy or blamed the painkillers, but she hugged him. A thoughtless and automatic hug that was perfectly executed. She slid her hands around his torso, feeling him tense slightly and breathe in sharply, but instead of overthinking it, she just rested her head on his chest.

It was what he wanted. He’d thought about it moments before. But when it actually happened it felt like…finally. A simple hug had never meant anything to Daryl, so much so that it wasn’t something that ever crossed his mind. He never hugged his family, or women he’d met, or anyone else before he found himself stood with Jess’s arms around him. Far from knowing what was an acceptable level of enthusiasm he gradually raised his hands, finding that they were trembling slightly and placed them lightly around her waist. Finally, able to breathe out his anxiety about being touched, he rested his chin on her head and felt her sway subtly with him in her grasp. It was, incontestably, one of the most meaningful few seconds of his life.

When she pulled back, she was happy to discover a certain lack of awkwardness between them. It was almost like a line had been crossed and it didn’t need to be overthought or clouded with too many questions. But Daryl did have one question.

“So, um… I get one of those every time I help ya out now?” He smiled.

“You get one any time you want.” She answered confidently. “Didn’t have you down as much of a hugger. Guess I took a risk on that”

“I ain’t a hugger” He confirmed. “Just seem to make a lot of exceptions… for you.”

“Then, I’m a lucky girl” She flashed him her best, flirtatious grin and could only dream that it meant he saw her the same way she did. When she let him through the gate, he glanced back at her twice before disappearing into the trees and she was left pondering if all close friends acted the way she and Daryl did. If it was normal to have many long, suspense laden silences and telling instances of eye contact. Or, was that all her imagination? She had no idea. But she knew in her heart that every time she set eyes on him, she loved him a little bit more.

--- tagging as requested ---

@lilred254 @woundmetender

#daryl dixon #daryl #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x oc #twd fanfiction

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xxisxxisxxis · 5 years ago

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Twenty-One

Part Twenty or Table of Content

Pairing: Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx x OC

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning(s): EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, SUBTLE HINTING AT SUICIDE

Tag List: @unknownoblivion @haileynicoleseavey17 @cierrasixx19 @oskea93 @mgkobsessed @vamprlestat @sharon6713 @itsametaphorbriansblog @miriampraez @allie-mcginn @rebeccaphillips14 @nicholeh7 @fandomshit6000 @lilmou5ie @tamedhearts @divaanya @kingbouji3 @evrsncnewyork @6ixx6ixx @ratedrkohardychick91 @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @thanks2pete @abaldboi @swoopygorl @justjodeye @liith-ium @caos18blog @ytwahsog @shamlessobsessions @scarecrowmax @toadspleen @random-internet-user-4471 @solohqrry @loveofmyloif

**Let me know if you want to be tagged**

———————————————————————

"Viv, open the door." Fred calls from other side of the bathroom door.

I don't know if I should be relieved security's here or mortified because now I'll have to answer questions to the police, whose sirens I can here coming closer and closer.

"They've temporarily locked the hotel down, Viv, until the cops get here and when they're here you're gonna have to give a statement."

"I don't want to talk to anybody." I argue from my spot in the bathtub with the curtain closed.

There's silence on the other side for a moment.

"Can you be honest with me?" He asks and I let out a deep breath.

"Always." I reply honestly.

"Have you taken or done anything you weren't suppose to?"

"No." I tell him.

"Not to freak you out anymore than you already are, but we're on the seventh story. There isn't a balcony. There isn't even a ledge for someone to be able to stand outside the window and hold a gun on you." He explains to me calmly and I squeeze my eyes shut, crying because that's the last thing I wanted to hear. "I don't think there was a gunman, Viv."

"I saw him."

"What'd he look like?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"It was too dark."

"Then how do you know you saw someone?"

I dry my eyes, irritation bugging at me as I stand and pull the curtain back.

"Are you calling me a liar, Fred?" I ask him, my tone shifting from that of fear to aggravation.

"I'm just saying something's missing in the salad and it could possibly be the lettuce." He replies casually and I step out of the tub and swing the door open to look up at him.

He shakes my Nardil bottle in his hand, his lips pressed together.

"Lettuce." He adds, raising his brows, before he reads the withdraw symptoms to himself that I've been avoiding to read this entire time before he stares my eyes down. "Pupils are fine." He mumbles to himself, grabbing my arms, legs, and anywhere that holds easy access veins to check entryways for needles.

His palm pushes my forehead back to angle my nose upward so he can check for coke residue.

There isn't any.

"I quit taking them." I admit as he finishes up his drug examination and he looks at me with furrowed brows. "My Nardil. I stopped it."

Confirming his theory, he glances around the room before stepping in to the bathroom and shutting the door.

"You're not..." He starts, seeming to be uncomfortable and I wait patiently for him to speak as he motions his hands. "...giving up or anyth—"

"No!" I deny completely, rubbing my forehead. "No, Fred, I'm not that bad off, now, and I wasn't bad off at all when I was on them." I reassure him.

"Then why'd you get off it?" He asks and I sigh, trying to figure out if I should tell him or not.

"The excuse I have planned is, 'I can't stand relying on a pill to make me happy', but it's bullshit." I confess. “If I tell you this, you can’t tell anybody, Fred. I’m serious, or I’ll kick your ass. Got it?” I ask and he nods. “Cross your heart?”

“Cross my heart.” He does an over exaggerated crossing of a crucifix over his body like a catholic closing out a prayer and I crack the slightest smile before licking my lips, stepping from the bathroom to my suitcase.

I pull the positive pregnancy test out and just as I’m heading back to the bathroom, the door is unlocked and opens—leaving me standing there in nothing but my towel, holding a pregnancy test in front of Doc and a police officer.

I panic and hold the test behind my back, too far away from my suitcase to simply hide it back in there.

“Viv, You need to give a statement.” Doc informs me and I look at the officer and nod as Fred steps from the bathroom, only a couple inches beside me.

The officer hands me a paper pad and a pen to write on and I give a look to Fred.

He furrows his brows a little bit as if to say, “what’s up?”

I nod my chin to my shoulder a little bit as a subtle cue and he glances to my hand behind my back, gripping a pregnancy test.

He’s expressionless as he acts like he’s putting a reassuring hand on my back, but he takes the test from me and slips it up his sleeve.

It’s now that I hear Doc and the cop having a casual conversation, and I still haven’t taken the pen or pad from the stranger.

I do so quickly and write my statement, adding that I’ve been off of strong antidepressants for a little bit and one of the possible withdrawal symptoms is discontinuation syndrome, hallucinations and psychosis being a couple of the possible results of discontinuation syndrome.

Fred explains to the officer and to Doc what might have me thinking there was a gunman outside of my window while I finish writing my statement and shoes the cop the bottle of pills to prove I’m not on drugs and he’s just trying to cover my ass.

Doc leaves with the police, walking him back down to the lobby to meet his team that’s probably scoped the hotel for any threat.

Once Fred and I are alone he’s pulling the test from his sleeve and staring at it as I get some pajamas on while he sits on the foot of the bed.

“This is gonna sound fucked up but it’s Nikki’s, right?” He asks me and I glare at him.

“Yes.” I state. “It’s Nikki’s. He’s the only man I’ve ever been with.” I plop down on the bed beside him and he hands me the test and let’s a moment of silence pass.

“He’s gonna fucking freak.” He mumbles.

“‘I’m gonna be a dad!’ freak, or ‘holy fuck I have to be a fucking dad!’ freak?” I ask, knowing he’ll tell me the truth.

“Definitely the second one.” He states.

“I think so, too. He’s gonna kill me, Fred.” I rub my eyes.

“He’s the one that won’t let up on you. I’ve seen him after a show, just getting his hands on you at the first chance and throwing you over his shoulder to go use you like a cum rag.” He scoffs. “It takes fucking to get a kid, and it takes two to fuck.”

“I’m not going to tell anybody until I absolutely have to. Including him. He’ll be pissed I told you first.”

“You haven’t told me anything.” He replies blankly and I look at him.

I knew in that moment I could murder someone and Fred wouldn’t tell a soul, he’d just help me hide the body and clean up the crime scene.

I suppose that’s kinda what he did anyway when he found out why I was with Duff McKagan so much on the “Girls” tour.

He knew Nikki had fucked plenty of other girls on the tour, without my knowledge and right under my nose, so he didn’t see the point in snitching on me for doing the same as if Nikki were an alter boy.

By late afternoon the next day, the roadies and seemingly everyone—aside from Nikki, Tommy, Vince, and Mick—were all walking on eggshells around me.

They figured if I, of all people, were on drugs, they should avoid me at all costs because I had "violent tendencies" when I was sober, they didn't want to know what the hell I was like fucked up on something.

Except...

"I told you, Doc, I didn't take, snort, shoot, or drink, anything." I tell Doc once more as I go between teasing Tommy's and Nikki's hair while they smear on blush, lipstick and eyeliner as neatly as they can. “I even had the guys check their inventory to prove I hadn’t tampered with any of it.”

"No, you're just dopesick from abruptly stopping your MAIO antidepressant which is just as idiotic and stupid as taking, snorting, shooting or drinking anything that fucks You up so badly that you imagine someone holding a gun at you outside of the window on the seventh story of a hotel." He replies shortly, and I roll my eyes.

"You can't be dopesick from something that's not classified as a controlled substance." I reply as if he's overreacting.

"Your neurotransmitters are in shock. You need to go see a fucking doctor." He orders me and I look at Nikki in the mirror. "Nikki, tell her she needs to go see someone."

"As if he has room to talk to me about getting help of any kind." I scoff out and Nikki shakes his head a little.

"If she says she's fine, she's fine." Nikki tells Doc, swigging from his bottle of Jack, handing it to Tommy when he's done.

"She had the fucking hotel on temporary lockdown until the cops cleared it. You assholes were out partying so you don't know how hard it was to convince her to come out of the bathroom before Fred busted the door down." Doc explains.

"And then I was fine. And now I'm fine. And I'll be fine. So just drop it." I sigh out, spraying down Nikki's hair with hair spray and doing the same to Tommy's.

"Why'd you quit your fucking Nardil anyway?" He keeps on and I let out a breath.

"Why does it matter? It's over with, man, just fuck off." Nikki grumbles, standing up.

I thank him in my head, not even getting a last glance from Doc before he's stepping out of the

room.

"Alright, I'm making my rounds." Vince announces.

"Making rounds" = stopping by the drug dealer that's waiting in the bathroom for a few bumps of coke then pick up the nearest groupie and get her on her knees ASAP.

"I'm comin', gimme a second." Tommy says to him before giving one last sprits to his hair before the two of them are out.

Mick left an hour ago to get away from the guy's obnoxious bullshitting. He hasn't been feeling good lately and his patience has been low...I don't blame him.

Nikki and I are left alone, avoiding the tension in the room until he says "fuck it" and starts pressing at me like Doc was.

"Why'd you stop taking it, Viv?" He asks me and I pretend to touch up my makeup in the mirror as he sits on the couch and waits for me to answer.

"I don't know." I lie with a shrug, tired of being asked questions that I can't answer right now.

"You don't know." He repeats, obviously not convinced, and smug at the fact I can't fool him.

"Fine." I breathe out, stepping to him where he's on the couch, falling in to his lap and putting my arm around his shoulders. "The truth is, I was bored and just wanted to see what would happen." It's sarcastic and he knows it, cutting his eyes at me.

"That's a bullshit answer."

"Mmm, now you know how I feel when you're so messed up you can barely walk and that's the excuse you give me." I point out and he holds back a smile, his little smirk fading after a moment as he thinks. "What is it?" I ask him, my fingers wiping at the lipstick he's got around his mouth so it doesn't look messy.

"You were pretty bad off, you know. You wouldn't even get outta bed and it kinda brought everybody down." He explains and I sigh, irritated.

"I'm not going to blow my brains out or slit my wrists, Nikki, if that's what you're getting at." I state.

"I'm not getting at that. I'm just saying I feel like I don't have my girlfriend when she's not acting like herself. I don't want it to get back to that, Vivian."

"Girlfriend? We've been married for ten months and I'm still you still think of me as your girlfriend?"

"I mean 'wife'." He corrects himself, squeezing his eyes shut.

The term "Girlfriend" didn't come with as much responsibility and tying down as "wife" did. Truth be told he didn't think of me as his wife until I first started being friends with Guns 'N Roses—their bassist in particular.

Then anytime we were all hanging out together or at dinner or backstage, he was all about randomly, loudly, and cross-fadedly, emphasizing the fact that I. Was. His. Wife.

Everyone knew it was his way of pissing on me to mark his territory and sending the message of "mine's bigger than your's!" to anyone who even thought about hitting on me.

I ignore his slip up and blink at him.

"It won't get that bad again, Nikki." I assure him, blindly, because I have no clue how the hell my depression is going to be. As of now, I don't feel any different off of my meds than I did on them.

I stamp my reassurance with a brief kiss, before Doc's banging on the door to let us know Nikki's going on in fifteen minutes.

They played a great show, as always, and by the time it was over I was practically rushing to get back to the hotel, get packed, and get back home.

"What time are we leaving tomorrow?" I ask Doc as Vince, Tommy, Nikki and Mick cool down after just getting off stage.

"Well, about that," Doc starts, waiting for the guys to sit down and take a few deep breaths before he continues. "We're leaving tonight and heading to Michigan to get back up with Ozzy at the American Rock Festival in Kalamazoo and then we head to Des Moines for Iowa Jam." He hits us with two more shows.

I stare at him like I could kill him. I honestly could.

"Is that it?" I ask him, keeping it together.

"Yes. If you don't count the eight other shows in between."

I lived up to my "rabid bitch" reputation by attempting to hit him as hard as I possibly could over an overall minor inconvenience. Thanks to Tommy getting between us, it was merely an effort and no damage was done.

I needed to get to an obstetrician and there was no way for me to do that discreetly while on the road. I felt like the walls were slowly moving in on me and the record label kept booking shows, making sure I had nowhere to run.

"I'm actually going crazy, Tansy." I say into the payphone, glancing around the dark gas station parking lot to see the guys walking inside with Doc. "I was expecting a little fever and vomiting but it's actually making me a crazy person."

"Well what did the label say the withdrawal symptoms were?" She asks me and I reach Into my purse and pluck the Nardil bottle out of it.

"Discontinuation syndrome from phenelzine can include: hallucinations, rushed speech, severe anxiety, paranoid psychosis, drowsiness, delirium, and insomnia." I read aloud to her.

"Well, Maybe it's not that bad." She comments.

"I had a melt down because I thought a man was standing outside our room window pointing a gun at me." I explain to her.

"Well, that's not far fetc—"

"We're staying on the seventh floor, Tans, and there isn't a balcony." I state. "Doc thought I had tapped in to someone's supply until I told him I decided to stop my antidepressant."

"Why're you stopping it, again?" She asks me and I breathe out.

"Because I'm not depressed anymore." I explain, knowing it's a bullshit excuse and that she knows it because I'm not that ignorant to believe I can just stop something like Nardil cold turkey.

"And how does Nikki feel about you just quitting it out of nowhere?"

"What does Nikki have to do with this?" I ask her.

"He's your husband, Viv. Did you not give him a heads up at all?"

"I didn't wanna worry him, even though I'm sure he's not worried about it, but still." I explain to her. "I don't want to be the reason he feels the need to drink or use because he's stressed out and I guess I was scared it would stress him out."

"He's a rockstar, Viv, he's gonna use drugs and drink regardless. You can't put that much pressure on yourself." She tells me, the guys coming back out of the station with snacks.

"Yeah, I gotta go, Tans." I say. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Call me when you get there so I know you're still in one piece." She suggests and I nod.

"I will. I'll talk to you later."

"Alright, bye-bye."

"Bye."

I hang up the phone and run a hand through my hair, stepping onto the bus.

"Viv, I got you gummy worms." Tommy throws the bag at me and I flinch a little when I catch it.

"Thanks, Tommy." I step past him to get back in my seat and Nikki hands me a bottle of Coke.

I wrinkle my nose a little and take the bottle.

"They didn't have Pepsi." He tells me and I sit down next to him.

Before I can ask Vince to use his bottle opener, Nikki's got the metal cap off my drink with his teeth and I cringe, lightly popping him on the arm.

"I told you to stop doing that, babe!" I scold him and he laughs, handing me the bottle back. "If you want a new car or new apartment you can't shatter your teeth because that will take all the money you've made to fix."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya." He brushes me off and I nudge him with my shoulder, ripping in to my bag of gummy worms. "So, in terms of a car," Nikki starts, opening his bag of Doritos.

"Mhmm."

"I'm thinking a Corvette." He tells me and I stop drinking my Coke mid-sip and look at him.

"A Corvette only has two seats." I point out.

"Yes, and there's only two of us. Isn't funny how that works out perfectly?" He asks me with a smartass smile.

"Yeah, but we might have kids at any point. We're not really being the most cautious, you know."

He puts palm on my forehead, closing his eyes.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"Rebuking the pregnancy demon."

"Nikki." I chuckle out, swatting his hand away from me. "You gotta stop looking at kids as a curse or something to slow you down. The worst thing that can happen to you when we have kids is you'll quit partying as much and become more responsible. That's not so bad, is it?"

"It's a parade pisser, that's what it is." He mumbles, eating another chip.

"No it is not, babe, children are a blessing." I argue to him, keeping my smile.

"Right, that's why my folks avoided me at all costs."

"Okay, you can't pull the lost, confused, abandoned child, who's tagged teamed with mommy and daddy issues, every time we get on the topic of kids so you can win the inevitable argument and get a sympathy blowjob." I state and he laughs, genuinely. "We are going to kick parenting's ass." I promise and he grins at me like I'm amusing.

"I yield, you're right." He lets me win this one, sipping on his beer.

A beat passes between us, and he glances at me.

"I'm thinking black for the Corvette." He mentions to me and I rub my lips together.

"I'm thinking more along the lines of: new apartment." I suggest instead and he cuts his hazel eyes at me.

"I can't fuck you on the hood of a new apartment. You can't give me blowjobs while I'm doin' 90 to nothing down the road in a new apartment." He makes two very valid points and I let out a sigh.

"So while weighing the pros and cons of choosing either a new car or new apartment, you took in to account which one you could utilize during sex the best, as a priority?" I ask.

"Fast cars, loud music, and even faster and louder chicks, turn me on. I already have two of those three." He shrugs and I just blink at him. "Besides, if we go for a new place, we'll just end up buying a slightly bigger—but still shitty—apartment, while still having the piece of shit car to match."

It was one of the few things that made sense in Nikki's mind, and if that's all that mattered to him, then that’s all that mattered to me.

#nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #mötley crüe #colson baker #daniel webber #douglas booth #the dirt #the dirt movie #gateway drug

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b-radley66 · 7 years ago

Text

Game of Thrones: Alderaan—A Hike in the Wood

For @sl-walker

Little longer.

Chapter 4: A Good Walk Spoiled

Maul realizes that he is laughing as he hasn’t in a while as he and Dani walk deeper into the wilderness, their feet moving easily on the primitive trail. The morning sun had burned off the chill, the day is warm, but not unpleasantly so. Both of them are sweating from the exertion, but neither are breathing heavy. He concentrates on Dani’s story of someone called ‘the Dragon,’ who apparently is her boss. As she tells the story, he watches the wistful expression in her purple eyes grow.

Apparently the Dragon is a bit more than just a boss. He finds himself envious of the Corellian for the time spent in her company. His eyes widen as he realizes he feels no other emotion from listening to the stories. None of what Bail and Breha have described, when lounging in the bed on summer mornings—teaching him about different emotions. Including the negative ones. Especially the one called jealousy. Something he is not sure that he has ever felt.

On a whim, hoping that he is not intruding, he allows his own version of an empathic resonance—albeit a passive one—to open. The emotion that he receives from her is so rich, yet so unfamiliar. He has to close it off again. He cannot describe the feeling. He has only felt something similar to it before. A feeling denied from Bail, when Bre had suffered her first miscarriage. His sharp scientist’s mind tries to analyze the emotion. He stops as the sensation of another word seeps into his mind through her resonance. A word in another language.

Abeeyah. He starts as a brief glimpse of a vision comes into his mind, of a very tall man, taller even than Bail looks down at a sleeping child with crimson skin and brown and blue curls. Looking down at her with sadness in his piercing blue eyes. He shakes his head, dispelling the vision. This is not mine. He realizes that she has stopped walking.

She stops talking as she walks into the first layer of the Wood. She looks up in awe at the trees stretching to the heavens. His own version of empathy swells with her spillover. The sensation is rich as he looks and sees her eyes transitioning to the black—the emotions not the same as the night of the dance and other times.

He sees her eyes tear as she stretches her neck back to try and see the tops of the trees.

“Maul,” she whispers, “this is beautiful.”

Maul smiles as the pure joy swells around him as her own resonance moves from ‘standby’ mode. The joy at the untrammeled beauty. The same joy that he had felt the first time that he had walked in these trees with Bail Organa, hand-in-hand.

It seems only natural for him to take her hand in his. He is surprised at the warmth. She turns and looks at him. He moves his other hand to her hair, to the crown of twisted vines and purple flowers he had fashioned for her on a brief rest stop. A stop in which she had inhaled several small bars of a sugary brown substance.

Okay. Many bars. In fact a whole bag. She had rolled her eyes at his smirk. “You try living with a metabolism like mine. You’d be eating your weight as well, bud,” she had said, as she tossed him another strip of the jerky that she had brought. A spicy, unfamiliar meat that he had never had before, but had caused him to make a note to find it again.

He smiles in the present as he watches her straighten the crown. She had rested against him while he had twisted the vines together, explaining how the purple nightstar with its gold center was a symbiote with what they would see when they reached their destination. She had never seemed bored as she listened to his explanation, occasionally asking insightful questions.

They had dozed for a few minutes. He had awoken with his arms about her middle, the skin of her back where she had raised her shirt a bit against his. He had jumped up, causing her to awaken. She had said nothing at his discomfort.

His eyes widen as he realizes that there is a rhythmic tapping sound. Not just a sound, but a sensation in the center of his forehead. He realizes that Dani is rapping her knuckles gently on him.

“Alderaan to Maul,” she says.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “What did you say?”

“Just asked what this was,” she replies.

“Only one of my favorite spots on Alderaan. It is simply called The Wood,” he says. Several hundred thousand acres of old growth forest. The last remaining stand of this type of wood on the planet.”

She reaches out and touches the nearest tree. “Is this burlwood?” she asks.

He smiles. “You’re familiar with it?” he asks, his curiosity piqued.

“Yep. Or at least the Corellian version.” She grins cheekily. “Not very rare. Used in furniture. Plus it makes a damned good nightstick.”

He raises an eyebrow. “It is a type of defensive club used by law enforcement and security forces. Or at least it used to be. CorSec are traditionalists. They don’t use police droids much and they don’t like stun staves.” She looks away. “One in the hands of a master once saved my life, when I first started out.” She shakes her head at the memory. “The Drall security forces—those that aren’t affiliated with CorSec, use a small version almost exclusively, rather than blasters. They are tiny, but whenever they pull that club out, everybody stands down.”

Maul listens, fascinated. She realizes she has been doing most of the talking. “Like I said. Not too rare. Actually one of the few trees that grows on all the Five Brothers.”

He smiles. “This is very rare. Very regulated. Only a few permits a year are granted to harvest—mostly the ones that are the ones that are close to the end of their lifespan. It is a much superior wood than Corellian varieties. Much harder.”

He winces at the pedantic pronouncement. His eyes widen as a grin spreads across her crimson features.

“I’ve heard that Alderaani wood is harder. I might want to try it out,” she says. One of her lids close and open suddenly. “Especially the adopted Alderaani variety.”

He finds that it is suddenly hard to breathe again, as she touches his chest briefly.

Maul realizes that she is suddenly blushing as well. They continue to walk in silence. Maul stops after a few minutes. They have come to a clearing. A clearing that is not supposed to be there. Not supposed to be here and never this large. They stand in silence as they look at the field of stumps.

“Maul,” Dani says, “I thought you said that harvesting was only of the ones about to die. Surely there aren’t this many.”

“There isn’t,” he replies tersely. He calms. “I haven’t seen a permit request in months,” he says.

She looks up at him, a sculpted blue eyebrow raised in a question mark.

“It is one of my jobs. I do the scientific and ecological review of environmental permit requests.” He returns her gaze. “I am not just another pretty face,” he says with a grin.

“Never thought any different, handsome,” she says. They stop as a loud cacophony splits the peace of the wood. They look at one another, then as one they turn and run towards the noise.

~=~=~=~=~=

Dani can feel the anger rising from Maul as they look towards the operation that is ravaging another part of the Wood. A cutter droid slices into a tree. Dani touches his shoulder as he peers through his macrobinoculars at a large pile of harvested and limbed trees. She tightens her arm around him.

“Maul, dear, let’s call it in,” she says.

“I have to do something,” he says quietly.

Dani shakes her head. “We are outnumbered, love.”

The sound of blasterfire stops their conversation. Dani’s eyes widen as she sees the man holding the smoking blaster.

Holding it over the slumped body of a worker. One who does not appear to be one of the large thugs playing lumberjack dressup. Another is brought forward and forced to his knees.

Dani snatches the macrobinoculars from Maul. Her heart sinks as she recognizes the tall man with the blaster. She allows herself to slump her head in her hand.

“I can’t let it go, Maul. I have to do something.”

He looks at her curiously. “Why the change of heart? Why can’t we wait for reinforcements?” he asks.

“Because that murdering asshole is one of the king murdering assholes on my world. He will not stop until he has murdered all of those workers.”

Maul feels his eyes narrow. “There is something else, isn’t there?”

She closes her eyes. “He is a reminder. A reminder of the last time that I had to be saved by anyone. Of a time when I hesitated.” She watches his eyes track to where her right hand rubs absently on her left bicep.

A pale scar, from what looks like a knife, can be seen in the crimson skin.

“Dani, this isn’t even your world—it is mine...,” He stops as she places her finger over his lips.

“Yeah, but it is spillover from my world. Plus, I am cop—a peacekeeper on your world. It is what I do.”

She pulls out a holocomm, punches a sequence. “Dammit,” she starts.

“What?”

“Can’t get out,” she replies.

Maul nods. “Yes. There is an anomaly in this area. You can’t make local calls around here.” He grins— a wolfish expression that causes a twitch in certain areas on Dani. “You can get a out-system call out.”

She rolls her eyes, punches a different sequence. She takes a deep breath as a representation of a four-pointed star with one in the center appears above the device. Only for a moment. A craggy-faced, older human with piercing blue eyes replaces the symbol. Dani sees Maul’s eyes widen in what looks like recognition. She ignores it.

A voice comes out of the speaker. A voice that she knows can move heaven and earth on a whim.

“So. How is my newest former Inspector? A former Inspector who was supposed to be on Drall a week ago for a conference.”

“Put a sock in it, Dragon. Jad is on Alderaan.”

His expression darkens. “How do you know?” he asks.

“I’m looking at him being a murdering scumbag at a bunch of innocents.”

She sees him punching buttons. “I don’t have anyone I can get there soon, love,” he says.

“Just let the Alderaani know, Draq’. I have to move.”

“Wait, Daaineran, you can’t go in alone.”

“No choice, Procurator. No time.”

Draq’ starts to speak, then stops. “There are a couple of folks headed back to the Mother that might be useful. One of them has been staying on Alderaan.” His eyes lance her. “They are both survivors.”

Dani looks at Maul. He nods in recognition.

Draq’s voice cuts into her senses again. His voice has a quality that she only rarely hears in it.

Worry.

“I’m serious, Inspector. I need you to wait,” he says.

“No can do, Dragon. Gotta go sow some chaos.”

“Goddamnit, Dani.” She kills the connection and throw the comm over her shoulder.

“He sounds nice,” Maul says dryly.

“Yeah. Sometimes I think that ‘goddamnit’ is my actual first name.”

“He’s not wrong. You can’t go in by yourself.”

“Yeah. It is kind of what I do. Part of my charm.”

She feels Maul touch her cheek. “Is it really? Or are you trying to exorcise something? A demon or two?”

She closes her eyes. “No. I don’t have time for this. You will stay behind. I know you have a lot of skills, but somebody has to stay and wait for your cops to pull their thumbs out and get here.”

She kisses him quickly. “Plus, you are a member of the ruling Elder Family of the planet. If it is one thing I learned in cop-school, it’s you don’t have royals charging in where angels fear to tread.”

She smirks. “Especially if they have a very prominent place in the Queen and Viceroy’s bed.” He matches her smirk. “I am pretty sure that Queen Breha will make me dig my own grave if I let you come in. I don’t want to do that. My hands blister easy if it involves anything more than using a blaster, a knife, or certain family religious artifacts.” She looks at him. “Or certain adopted Alderaani wood.”

He rolls his eyes. She takes both of his hands in hers. “Plus, you might have to come get me out, if I prove myself a real pain in the ass to these nice people.”

“Imagine that.”

“Yep. I am a Dragon’s daughter,” she says quickly. He doesn’t say anything, but nods once.

Dani opens the small pouch at her waist. She pulls a blaster and checks it. His eyes recognize Mandalorian workmanship. She sees his look. “Name-day gift. From a half-Mandalorian.”

She starts to turn. “I’m giving you ten minutes, Daaineran,” he says evenly. “Not a second more. I don’t hear from you or see you, I am coming in.”

She starts to speak, thinks better of it. She moves her face to him, and places her forehead against his.

Before he can say anything else, she is gone, the outer flannel shirt dropped on the ground in her wake.

#game of thrones: alderaan #sl-walker’s universe #dani faygan - original character #maul #star wars

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sethmacsexy20 · 7 years ago

Text

Misery Loves Company Things Go From Bad To Worse

Life felt like a daze for the couple. They lost their only child and things were painful. Seth asked Ashley to move to LA still. She agreed. She wanted to get away from the place that caused her so much pain. And she needed Seth more then ever. But she wanted their child buried in LA if she was going to stay there. Seth agreed as he wanted him there too. But that meant, his body would be on a commercial plane, under neath. Neither was happy about that. Ashley didn't want to have her son fly alone. Even though he was gone, she couldn't bare the thought of it. She decided to fly with him and Seth agreed to go as well, even though he hated flying commercial. He wanted to be with Ashley and he too didn't like the idea of him being alone. Only worry, will they be spotted by paparazzi. They flew first class to LA and landed. Ashley watched out of the plane's window as they unload underneath and saw her son's casket. She said, softly, "He's okay."

Seth took her hand. He was at a lost of what to do. They moved off the plane and talked to a few people to hear that they got him into a hearse and he was on the way to the funeral home where they will hold the service. They finally left the airport. Sure enough, paparazzi was there. They took pictures of the couple and tried to ask questions. It was too much for Ashley, especially with what she was going through. Seth tried to tell them it was bad timing and to leave them be. But they didn't. Finally they got to the car that waited for them. They got in and Ashley felt so overwhelmed. She sat back in the seat and exhaled. Seth asked, "You okay?"

She didn't speak, she just kept looking out the window as they drove off. Seth took her hand and said, sadly, "Baby, I know you are in pain. I am too. But don't shut me out."

She didn't mean to, she was use to it. With her marriage to Derek, she was use to shutting everyone out as it was easier then getting lectured all the time. She was so use to it, that she shut out the one person that she needed more then ever. She looked over. "I don't mean to. I'm sorry."

"I'm not Derek. Please remember that. You don't have to do what you are use to doing with him. Not with me. I am not going to hurt you or be cold. I am here for you, baby." He said, softly.

"I know." She breathed and looked out the window. "But how do you change something like that when you got so accustom to it."

Seth just took her hand to his mouth and gently placed a small kiss on it. "Just know, I am here. For whatever you need. I promise."

She again said nothing, just looked out the window. They found out, Derek was arrested again. But cause now the charges went from attempted murder to murder now that Jake had died. He was denied bail the second time around and honestly, Ashley hoped he rot. Seth wanted to go after him once Jake died but cops got to him before he could. He was angry about that. Now, on top of it, Ashley was shutting down.

Days went by and they had the service, Ashley became numb and lost. She didn't know how to live a life without her son. Ashley stopped crying after a while. She didn't know if she could muster another tear. It's been a couple months now and things only got worse. Ashley slept all the time and basically pushed Seth away. Seth tried to understand. She was dealing in her own way and for her, she isolated herself. Seth tried so hard to get her to open up. But he watched her go deeper into depression. He went back to work. By this time, everyone heard about Seth finding out he had a son to only lose him so soon. They felt for him but he kept going. One of them had to. After about a month, he noticed a big change in Ashley, at first he couldn't pin point it but after a while, it became apparent, she was on some sort of drug. He didn't say anything as he had no real proof and didn't want to push her more off the deep end. He also didn't know what she was on. But she was high almost every night and during the day, it was like she was completely drained. Seth became scared for her. He was losing her to her grief. Hell, he was so oblivious to it at first, she came home, feeling frisky as she was high. He didn't noticed that part. It was a couple months since Jake died. She wanted him and he couldn't say no as it was a long time for them. But when it went on, it was like she was different. It wasn't the way he wanted. It was rough and brutal and cold. Once it was over, she laid in the bed, almost dazed. That was the moment it hit him she was high. It was the first time he realized she was on something. She went out a lot and came home early in the morning, stumbling to bed. Seth didn't say anything. Again, he was too afraid to. Then one night, she came home, again in the mood. She woke Seth up. He knew what she wanted and knew she probably was high. He said to her, "Not now. Just lay down, baby."

She almost whined, "Come on, Seth. I need you. Make me feel good."

He turned to her and said to her, "Not while you are like this."

"Like what?" She asked, then started to giggle.

Seth rolled over as he was annoyed. "Go to bed, Ash."

She then undressed herself and moved up to his back. She moved an arm under his arm and up his chest to his shoulder. She kissed his shoulder, gently. "Baby, I really need you. Please." She almost begged, softly.

Seth tried not to let it bother him, but it did. He got suckered in again. He hated that she had that affect on him. He turned to her and looked at her. He kissed her, deeply. They got into it quickly and he took off his clothes as she was already nude. He then settled between her legs as he wanted to make love to her but she quickly stopped him before he went to enter her. She didn't want that. She sat up as she pushed Seth up so he was sitting. He watched as she turned around and got on all fours. He didn't want her like this. He wanted more but he knew if she was like this, he wouldn't get her fully anyways. So, he moved behind her and pushed into her. She moaned out, loudly. He quickly moved inside her. She wanted it this way, he would just get it over with. He just pounded into her as he focused on his release. As he pounded, she got louder and louder as she moaned. She gripped the bed sheets and moaned even louder. Then Seth felt it as she moaned out, "OH GOD!"

He instantly came at the feel of her muscles contracting around him. He grunted as he kept pumping to empty all of him into her. He slowed then stopped. He quickly removed himself and laid down on the bed. He just wanted sleep now. He laid on his back as he relaxed. Then he felt Ashley move on his chest. This shocked him. She hadn't slept with him like this in a long time. Seth moved an arm around her as he felt at a lost. This wasn't the life he imagined with her. No, it has been completely fucked since the moment they met. He was lost but not about everything. There is one thing he was certain of, he loved her. That didn't change. But he knew other things had to change or he was going to drown with her. He wanted to save her. But had no clue how. He held her as she fell asleep. He was tired but his mind kept racing. He didn't want to move but he needed a drink. He gently moved from under her and got dressed. He left the room once he was and moved downstairs. He poured himself a drink and sat down. All he thought about was how he missed who she was. Cause that girl was gone now. He was at a lost. He needed to get her help but didn't know where to start. Hell, he didn't even know what she was taking to know where to start. But he knew she was slowly killing herself and if he didn't do something, she would end up doing just that. Seth sighed as he was at a loss.

The following morning, Seth was home as it was Saturday. Ashley slept half the day and then moved to the couch as she didn't look like herself. She was down from whatever she was addicted to and Seth knew she needed a fix soon. Usually by the evening, she would get it. Seth didn't want to deal with how she was when she got high but she wasn't pleasant when she was down either as she was moody and snapped on him. As Ashley sat on the couch, Seth moved to the bathroom upstairs to use it. After he was done, he went to wash his hands when he noticed the soap was gone. He went to the shelves in the bathroom to grab some more. When he reached in the back, he felt something that wasn't there before. He pulled it out to find a case. He opened it and saw what was Ashley's stash. It was a spoon with a syringe and needle. Also some powdered substance. He knew it was heroin. He got pissed now. He quickly went downstairs and went into the living room. He blocked the tv as he looked at Ashley. She looked annoyed. "Move."

He didn't say a word or move, instead he threw down the black case on the table. Quickly, Ashley got pissed. "What the hell are you doing snooping?"

"It's not snooping when I just come upon it." Then he pointed to the case. "Is that what I think it is?"

She grabbed it and quickly said as she stood, "It's not any of your damn business."

Seth got pissed. "Not my business! It is ever bit of my business! You brought this into my home! And you are using! I knew you were high but not on something like this! Are you stupid?!"

"You wouldn't understand. You could never understand." She said, coldly.

She started to walk off and Seth caught up. He grabbed her arm and she turned to him. "You are on heroin. What is there to understand? I just don't understand as to why."

"Cause it's makes the pain go away for a while. I feel numb when I am on it. When it is in my system, the pain melts away." She said, softly, as she looked away.

"At what cost?" He asked in pain. "I lost Jake. I can't lose you too."

"And you won't." She looked at him.

He stepped closer to her. "I will, Ashley. This stuff is bad news. You could die from it. That is what scares me the most."

"I have control of it." She told him.

"No." He shook his head. "No you don't. Soon you will need more and more just to take the edge off and then you will need it more often. Soon you will get lost in it. It happens so easily. Then you take too much one day to make it go away and just like that, you are gone. I can't go through that again. Please don't ask me too."

Tears weld up in her eyes and a few drops fell down her cheek. "I don't know how to stop." She admitted. "It was just to take the pain away but now I can't go without it. It's like I need it. I tell myself every time I use that it will be the last time, but it isn't. I want to stop, Seth. But it's like an urge that takes over me and I need it. I need help." She sobbed out.

He took her in his arms. "I'll help you, baby. I promise. I will do whatever it takes to get you better. This I promise."

"Please, help me, Seth. I need it. I can't do this alone." She cried in his arms.

"I will find a way to help you. I can't lose you as well." He said, softly.

Previous Chapter / Masterlist / Next Chapter

#seth macfarlane fanfiction #seth macfarlane #seth fanfic #macfarlane #fanfic

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gotbts7fics · 5 years ago

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Positive | Two |

| One | March 2017 | Three |

Bree had returned to Canada a week and a half after she arrived. You had been so busy with her that you hardly thought of your current predicament. It wasn’t until she had boarded her plane that you realized just how royally screwed you were. You had to hide a pregnancy, pretend everything was okay, take care of an extremely active seven year old and figure out how to end your relationship. You were exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. You had forgotten just how tiring pregnancy was in the first few months. It wasn’t helping that your boyfriend was currently in the midst of a comeback and you were running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off to support him and his members. You were doing everything you thought you needed to do for them, tonight that included feeding them.

“Y/N!” You turned towards the sound of your name. You had walked to Jaebum’s agency to drop off food for the seven men who were currently preparing tirelessly. So you had bundled yourself up on the chilly Saturday evening and ventured out to fulfill your mission. They had been locked away in the dance studio for god knows how long now and you figured they could use food.

“OMG you brought chicken!” Jackson yelled as he engulfed you in his arms.

“Figured you needed some substance to keep you guys going.” You smiled weakly. Either they were too tired to care, or you were just getting so good at hiding your emotions that no one batted an eye at you and your less than enthused self.

Jackson was yanked off of you, only for you to be trapped in somebody elses arms. You looked up to see the man you would give the world to looking down at you.

“I’ve missed your face. I’m sorry that I am so busy” JB apologized to you, while kissing your forehead.

“Honestly, I get it” You smiled.

“You’re just perfect y/n.” He said, reaching for your hand, as he grabbed the chicken and went to set it on the floor with his members. You watched as every one of the members went right for the food, not even bothering to wait. You were content in this moment, as you watched them eat. You were going to miss this family that had surrounded by you for three years.

“Hey, where’s Jaidyn? We haven’t seen her in a few days” Bambam said with a pout, mouth full of chicken.

“Ahhhh, she’s gone to Soo Hyuk’s house for a sleep over.” You said, grabbing a piece, but only slightly nibbling it. You were to terrified to eat and possibly vomit all over everyone, thus your secret revealed.

“She spends way to much time with that boy. I don’t like it” Jaebum said, looking at you. Laughing, you placed a hand on his thigh.

“It’s true, it seems like he’s always with her, and you let them have sleepovers! I don’t think she should be around boys so much” Jackson piped up.

“I mean, she’s also always around you guys too. He’s at least her age” You chuckled.

“We’re different. We love and protect her.” Bambam insisted, acting offended.

“No, you teach her how to dab and be rebellious, you and Yugyeom are literally the worst.” Everyone but the two youngest laughed, as they desperately tried to defend their honour. God you were going to miss this.

Marched passed by in a blur for you. School had started a new term, so you were busy with lesson plans and classes. Jaidyn was always doing something with someone. GOT7 was so busy with their new album that you hardly saw JB. In some twisted way, it put you at ease. You missed him unconditionally but you knew this was better. Their popularity had sky rocketed and they were so busy that both of you knew seeing each other just wasn’t an option right now. He never let you forget about him though. He was always messaging you to tell you he loved you, would send post cards from where ever he was visiting, and just make sure you knew that he was devoted. It was breaking your heart. You thought about how terrible you were being, stringing him along, letting him believe that you weren’t about to smash his heart into a thousand pieces. You were everything you despised in people who dragged out break ups. You hadn’t told anyone about the baby other than Bree, you hadn’t even told your parents, or close friends back home. You knew you had to get your shit together, you were approaching twelve weeks now and had to get home to Canada sooner, rather than later. You were hoping you wouldn’t show till closer to the half way mark, just like your first pregnancy, just to buy you a little bit more time. You knew that you were being very selfish for holding on a little bit to tightly to your life in Seoul. It wasn’t until the end of March that you finally decided you needed to get things in order. You started with letting your school know you would be leaving at the end of May. This gave them enough time to find a replacement for you, also it allowed you enough time to get things in prepared to travel home. You could fly home the first week of June. You just needed to end things with Jaebum by the end of April, and then stay hidden from them which you felt would be rather easy, as they had a pretty intense schedule with pretty much the whole month of May being in Japan. You knew this was the cowards way on how to handle things, but you justified it because the love you had for Jaebum was blindly distracting you. You weren’t going to ruin him, or GOT7s career. You would rather break the hearts of yourself, him and your child then to risk wrecking everything you worked so hard for.

It was six am on a Wednesday when your phone rang, displaying an Ontario number you hadn’t spoke to in a very long time. You sighed, knowing that the person on the other end already knew your dirty little secret. You had been deliberately avoiding him, fearing he would jump on a plane and come to Korea to get you himself.

“Hello……”You answered hesitantly.

“Are you fucking crazy?” A very angry male voice yelled into the receiver.

“Oh hey Owen, nice to hear from you. I missed you. How is life?” You deliberately ignored his outburst and tried to be pleasant.

“Listen here my love, I know. I finally convinced Bree to spill the beans on why you were ignoring everyone here, and why she ran to Korean. Pregnant y/n? Really? And you’re going to run away. What is so wrong with this dude that after three fucking years you can’t tell him he knocked you up?” You noted how angry your best friend was. Owen had gone through so much with you when you found out you were pregnant with his former friend. He was the one who brought you to the doctors and was there for you when times were hard. He was not only a friend, but the older brother you never had. He loved you fiercely and protected you. If it wasn’t for the fact he never wanted a passport to leave the country, you were sure he would have showed up and kicked JB’s ass for getting you pregnant and not stepping up, regardless on you not telling him. He didn’t have respect for men who abandoned their children.

“I’m not telling him. It’s not that simple. Please understand.” You sighed dejectedly. This was not an argument you wanted to have right now.

“When do you fly in?” He demanded.

“June fifth at five in the afternoon” You replied, biting your lip.

“I’ll be there, I’ve missed you and Jai. Skype doesn’t do justice and you haven’t come home to visit in a long time.” He said, he could be mad, but it never took away from how much he cared.

“I’ve missed you too.”

“Good. Look I have to go, but you need to tell him. It’s not fair to him, and this isn’t over between us. I have so much more to say to your sorry ass.” You knew Owen was speaking from personal experience, he hadn’t found out about his son until he was eight months old. It had killed him to know he missed out on so much of his life.

“I know, it’s just not that easy.” You said

“It is. I’ll talk to you soon. Love you”

“Love you too” You said hanging up the phone, turning to your messages where you let out a little steam towards your best female friend.

[6:17am] You: Bitch, you told him

[6:18am] Boo: Yeah suck it. You couldn’t hide from him forever. AND HE WAS THREATENING!

[6:18am] You: You’re a fucking cop Bree, don’t give me that shit. Arrest him.

[6:19am] Boo: Sure, for what, caring about his dumb ass best friend?

[6:20am] You: Fuck. You. Bitch.

[6:21am] Boo: I love you too. Honestly, I know you feel better.

[6:22am] You: Not the point, goodnight.

[6:22am] Boo: Hahahaha, have a great day ;)

You shut the screen of your phone off and threw it to the end of your bed. It was time for you to get up, get the kid ready for school and move forward with your day.

As March continued on, you were thankful for the busy schedules of both you and Jaebum. It made it easier to deny your current situation. Pretending that everything was a hundred percent normal. That you weren’t indeed hiding the fact that you were growing a little human in your belly. It was on a weekend that you travelled to your boyfriends parents house for a family dinner, one unsurprisingly, he couldn’t join last minute. That never bothered you though, the Im’s had opened their arms, hearts and home to you the minute Jaebum brought you home the first time. You were shocked to learn his mother was completely open to you, and your child, no questions ask. Over three years you had spent birthdays, Christmas, holidays and random family dinners together. More often than not without Jaebum. His parent’s had enjoyed having a grandchild around to play with. Tonight, Mr. Im had decided to take Jaidyn out to play before dinner, insisting it was so you could relax. Mrs. Im was busy cooking dinner, while you sat at the kitchen determined to help with the cooking.

“You’re very tired lately. Jaebum called and told us, you should rest tonight. Don’t worry about anything” She said in the motherly tone, making you miss from own mom even more. Three years had helped your korean enough that you know longer needed JB to translate for you. It was amazing really, you and Jaidyn were close to fluent that, when spoken too, even locals were shocked. It made you feel proud.

“I’m okay, things have just been busy. I don’t think I am resting properly anymore.” You said looking up towards her, a shy smile on your face.

“Here, have some of this kimchi fried rice. You look too skinny, eat, eat. Have you not been feeling well lately either?” She asked, you paled at the question, desperately trying to hide any telltale signs of your secret, vomiting all the food had resulted in a little bit of weight loss, but not enough that you thought it was noticeable. You took a big bite of the food she placed in front of you. It was delicious, savoury, and god you were going to miss her cooking. You practically inhaled the food, only to realize that was a big mistake. Apparently, your nausea wasn’t completely gone. It took everything in that moment of panic to will the gods to allow you to not throw up the food you ate. Praying silently, as tears escaped the corner of your eyes, that this would go away quickly as to not divulge your tiny secret.

“Hmmmmmmm” Mrs. Im said as she observed you quietly from the corner of her eye. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, more than okay. It’s delicious. Thank you” You smiled the best you could. Mother’s always know, you thought.

“I hope we can see you more often, you know how much Appa misses Jaidyn. If anything ever were to happen, where you and JB no longer see each other, you will always have a place in our home” She stated with such sincerity that you looked at her. She removed herself from the cooking and brought her arms around you.

“You’re my daughter now. No matter what. That child is a blessing and we will never turn our backs on you” She hugged you tightly, almost as if she was scared you would slip away.

“I love you too, Omma.” You whispered into her shoulder. “I love him too, always remember that. I will always love him no matter what” another tear fell down your cheek. Mrs. Im and you stayed like that for a few more minutes, until the sound of laughter was entering the house. The two trouble makers had returned, starving, after their adventure.

That night you laid in bed, beside your child, staring up at the ceiling. You never wanted to leave this house full of love. You rolled over and looked out the window, recalling the moment in the kitchen. Mothers always know, you thought again, and you were positive, that the woman you called Omma, knew.

#positive update #got7 x reader #jb x reader #pregnancy au #jb #jaebum

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newsbiteswithjennysok · 5 years ago

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Dec 13, 2019

1. Amanda Bynes, 33, has checked out of her sober-living facility and is staying with her parents while she looks for a place on her own, “Entertainment Tonight” reported. The trio, alongside Bynes’ conservatorship attorney, appeared in court on Thursday to meet with a judge to make sure the move was acceptable now that she’s no longer living in an in-treatment center. A source told the outlet that Bynes is content with the arrangement and maintains a close relationship with her parents. Page Six has reached out to Bynes’ rep and attorney for comment. Bynes received a day pass in June to leave the facility so she could attend her graduation from California’s Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising. The now-sober actress first enrolled in the design school at the end of 2014. She was reportedly kicked out of the school for causing “horrendous arguments” with classmates, but in 2017 got back on track to graduate.

Bynes checked into a mental health facility in early 2019 following a stress-related relapse.

Additionally, Bynes also received treatment for drug addiction. She told Paper magazine that drugs had contributed to her issues earlier in the decade, but that she had been sober for the past four years.

“Those days of experimenting [with substances] are long over,” she told the magazine. “I’m not sad about it and I don’t miss it because I really feel ashamed of how those substances made me act. When I was off of them, I was completely back to normal and immediately realized what I had done — it was like an alien had literally invaded my body. That is such a strange feeling.”

2. Keke Palmer and comedian Joel Kim Booster are bringing ’90s dating game show “Singled Out” back to life. The reboot goes modern and will “bring online dating to life with a twist — the main dater is linked to the pool of diverse singles through social media,” a news release from MTV Studios and Quibi revealed Friday. The show will also “hook up a new generation of singles, of all genders and sexual preferences.” The show will run for 20 episodes on Quibi, launching in spring 2020. It is being produced by MTV Studios.“I am thrilled to be hosting ‘Singled Out,’” Palmer, a co-host of ABC “Strahan, Sara & Keke,” said in a statement.“To be able to reimagine this show for my generation and on a new platform is so exciting,” the 26-year-old added. “Can’t wait for you guys to see what we have in store!” The original “Singled Out” was hosted by Chris Hardwick and Jenny McCarthy, with Carmen Electra replacing McCarthy for the last season and a half. It ran from 1995 to 1998 on MTV. During the initial run, the main contestant got matched — after questions, games and stunts — with one of 50 possible dates.

3. While accepting the first-ever Woman of the Decade honor at the Billboard Women in Music event on Thursday, Taylor Swift slammed industry foe Scooter Braun and the institutionalized sexism she says she’s experienced at the hands of the recording industry. Swift, who turns 30 on Friday, also called out those who supported Braun when she first blasted his acquisition of her master recordings through his purchase of her old record label.

“The definition of the toxic male privilege in our industry is people saying ‘But he’s always been nice to me,’ when I’m raising valid concerns about artists and their right to own their music,” Swift said during her 15-minute-long speech. “Of course he’s nice to you. If you’re in this room, he has something that he needs. “The fact is that private equity is what enabled this man to think, according to his own social media post, that he could ‘buy me,’ but I’m obviously not going willingly.”

Braun has maintained that he’s reached out to the “Lover” singer numerous times in order to smooth over their ongoing feud but he claims his attempts prove futile. On Thursday, however, Swift said she hasn’t heard from anyone from Braun’s group, Ithaca Holdings.“Yet, to this day, none of these investors have ever bothered to contact me or my team directly, to perform their due diligence on their investment, on their investment in me, to ask how I might feel about the new owner of my art — the music I wrote, the videos I created, photos of me, my handwriting, my album designs,” she continued. “And of course, Scooter never contacted me or my team to discuss it prior to the sale, or even when it was announced.”

Despite what she said in her speech, Swift previously appeared to admit to Vogue that she passed on the opportunity to purchase her masters.“ It was either investing in my past or my and other artists’ future, and I chose the future,” Swift told the publication of the deal she struck with UMG.At the time the news of Braun’s acquisition of her masters went public, a source also confirmed to Page Six that the pop star had “months” to buy back her masters but chose to “walk away” in favor of a new deal with Universal.

“In the entire time of negotiations, she never once reached out about wanting her masters,” our source said.

4. Former HGTV host Christopher Dionne has been sentenced to three years in prison for molesting a 10-year-old girl during a sleepover at his Connecticut home in 2017. Dionne, 37 — who hosted the “Family Flip” pilot episode for the home improvement network — maintained his innocence and is expected to appeal his conviction for fourth-degree sexual assault and risk of injury to a minor.Following his prison sentence, Dionne must serve 10 years of probation and register as a sex offender, a judge ruled Wednesday, according to the Hartford Courant.

Dionne’s victim, now 12, testified during his trial that she was best friends with his daughter and was sleeping over at their house when she was assaulted in November 2017. The girl said Dionne molested her twice while his two children, then a 10-year-old daughter and 14-year-old son, slept in the same room. The reality show host was in his boxers and asked if the child wanted to touch his penis, she said. He groped her chest and backside. Dionne then told his victim: “Don’t tell your mom, I’ll go to jail and [my daughter] won’t have a daddy.”

The victim didn’t attend Wednesday’s sentencing hearing, but her mother delivered an emotional statement to the court, according to The Day in Connecticut. “How much is a little girl worth?” the mother asked. “How much is a family worth?”The mom recalled how her daughter received hateful messages on social media after coming forward and kept saying: “Mom, this ruined everybody’s life. I should have never told. I just wanted to be a normal kid.”

In addition to the victim’s testimony, the state presented evidence that Dionne’s DNA was found in the inner waistband of the child’s pajama bottoms during a forensic review by specialists at the Yale New Haven Children’s Hospital. Dionne denied wrongdoing, telling cops that when he got home, the victim was awake and began to put her arms around him. He was filming the A&E show “House Rescue” in California when police began the investigation. A&E suspended production of the series after the allegations were made public.

5. Actor Colin Firth has announced he has split from his wife Livia but said they remain 'united in their love for their children' almost two years after it emerged she had an affair with her childhood friend. The 59-year-old Love Actually star confirmed the news in a statement today, and insisted he would maintain a 'close friendship' with Livia. The couple have been married for 22 years, and have two sons, Luca and Matteo. A statement from their publicists today said: 'Colin and Livia Firth have separated. They maintain a close friendship and remain united in their love for their children.'They kindly ask for privacy. There will be no further comment'. Their split comes after it was revealed in March last year that Mrs Firth was alleged to have had a year-long affair with Italian journalist Marco Brancaccia.

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awkwardlyamusing-blog · 5 years ago

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Why strip searches don’t work

New Post has been published on http://doggietrainingclasses.com/why-strip-searches-dont-work/

Why strip searches don’t work

Sniffer dogs are as much part of Sydney life today as overpriced brunches and sudden public transport breakdowns.

We’re not just talking about the entrances to music festivals such as Defqon1 and Psyfari — the government has already pulled the plug on those events.

Take a wander through Sydney’s Central station during peak hour and you may well find yourself stopped by police, taken behind a semipublic barricade and stripsearched — even though, statistically, your pockets will probably yield nothing more illicit than a set of house keys.

In an especially baffling case last year, high school leavers had a dozen officers with sniffer dogs swoop in on their year 12 formal.

A report released last week found the number of strip-searches conducted in NSW has increased almost 20-fold in the past 12 years.

Research suggests the overwhelming majority of drug dog searches are fruitless; more often than not, no drugs are found, yet those stopped are still made to endure procedures such as strip searches and “squat and cough” tests many have described as “traumatic” and “dehumanising”.

Police and the NSW Government maintain, however, that searches are necessary to keep the community safe.

This week, news.com.au spoke to more than a dozen young people who had been stripsearched by police on suspicion of being in possession of illicit drugs.

Most requested anonymity, saying they feared reputational damage despite doing nothing wrong.

Here’s what they had to say.

‘THIS ABUSE OF POWER NEEDS TO STOP’

Lucy Moore knows from experience how traumatic strip-searches can be.

In March, the 19-year-old was stopped by a drug dog at Hidden Festival in Sydney. She said she had just one drink at her hotel before arriving, and had neither consumed nor carried any illegal drugs with her to the event.

A police officer told her she had been detected by a sniffer dog, and she was taken away to be stripsearched in a semi-private space.

“Not only did I see other people being searched, during my search the door was left half open and only blocked by the small female cop. I could easily see outside, which means that attendees and the male cops outside could have easily seen in as well,” Ms Moore said.

“Not only this, a girl in the cubicle next to me was also searched with her door still open with a couple cops entering and leaving at will.”

Ms Moore said she was made to “squat and cough” — a practice that entails bending over and coughing under the eye of officers to see if drugs are concealed in the rectal area.

Experts say the practice is legally questionable due to restrictions on anyone but a medical practitioner conducting a body cavity search.

At the end of her “humiliating and embarrassing” ordeal, Ms Moore said she was interrogated, held for over an hour and ultimately still kicked out of the festival — all despite no drugs being found on her.

Legal experts tell news.com.au there have been several cases in recent years of festival-goers being denied entry into events, even though they were not found to be carrying drugs and paid for valid tickets.

“It makes me feel disgusted, for police to constantly be breaching laws and taking advantage of young people who don’t know better. It’s terrifying,” Ms Moore told news.com.au.

A status she posted about the incident in March went viral, with more than 2000 shares and 12,000 reactions on Facebook.

“I think with the festival culture most teens are around these days, that strip-searches from police are something they deal with constantly, so it’s something that they can all relate with,” she said.

Ms Moore never received an apology from police and her ban from Sydney Olympic Park is still in place.

“I’m hoping we can get reform. Change is obviously needed to keep people’s privacy,” she said.

“Only 30 per cent of people will be charged and almost all of them being for very small amounts of drugs for personal use — leaving those 70 per cent with a humiliating and traumatic experience for absolutely no reason. It has to change.”

It’s not just festivals and dance parties where people are targeted. Police dogs are increasingly frequenting train stations, street corners, small pubs and restaurants.

One Sydneysider, who declined to be named, said he was stripsearched a few years ago at Marrickville Bowling Club, a lawn bowls centre in Sydney’s inner west.

“I was violently grabbed by the arms by the police and marched to the entrance of the club, where people were entering and leaving the party,” he told news.com.au.

“In full view of other patrons, they made me take off my shoes and socks, looked inside my underwear and checked all my pockets and wallet, becoming increasingly aggressive and frustrated as they found nothing.

“There was no apology at the end for the wrongful search; they just seemed to assume that I was guilty but they couldn’t find the evidence. I reported the search but nothing came of the report.

“This abuse of power needs to stop.”

Another Sydneysider, who requested only to be identified as Nate, said he was escorted out of a Sydney music festival by police after he was seen texting a friend.

“I was singled out as I was there by myself waiting for a mate who was coming from the other side of Sydney, so I was texting a lot and walking from stage to stage depending who was playing,” he told news.com.au.

Later, as they were dancing in the middle of the dancefloor, he said police tapped both of them on the shoulder and told them to follow them outside.

“We were both sober as a judge,” he said.

Nate described a setting in which a large group of police officers and security guards made him drop his pants and underwear, and pull up his shirt to be patted down.

“It made me feel very uncomfortable and like a criminal for doing absolutely zero wrong,” he said. “I asked the security why we were targeted. They said that they had seen me walking around texting constantly on my phone and then meeting my mate, they followed us in to where we were dancing.

“Getting pulled out in front of others we knew as well and explaining it to them after was a sh*t feeling.”

Do you think stripsearching is excessive? Comment below

Another young woman gave evidence in July at an inquest into six drug-related festival deaths over the summers of 2017 and 2018.

The woman, whose identity was suppressed, told the NSW Coroners Court heavy security at a music festival she attended made her feel “like a criminal” and that the officer in charge threatened to strip-search her “nice and slow”.

“Everyone was staring at me,” she said. “I have been stripsearched twice and they’ve never found anything on me.”

“She said, ‘If you don’t tell me where the drugs are I’m going to make this nice and slow,’” the woman said of the female police officer who conducted the test. “She made me take my shorts off and my underwear.

“Then she made me squat and cough … and then I had to turn around and squat and cough.”

ARE STRIP-SEARCHES LEGAL?

It is legal for police to request a drug search if they have reasonable suspicion to do so.

But aspects of this process — such as what constitutes “reasonable suspicion” and the validity of the “squat and cough” method — fall into a grey area.

Jahan Kalantar, a lawyer who represents young people convicted after drug dog searches, told news.com.au their experiences are often “traumatic” and “terrifying”.

He said police needed to establish grounds to justify a search.

Drug dogs are an important part of this, but because they’re notoriously unreliable, police use other undisclosed, vague information to select a person. Police might claim that you look nervous, or that your behaviour suggests you’ve taken illicit substances, but there is no official checklist.

The initial search involves removing your accessories and outer layers — backpacks, handbags, coats and hats. At this stage, police can turn out your pockets, pat you down, search your hair and instruct you to open your mouth.

NSW Greens MP David Shoebridge, who runs the anti-drug dog initiative Sniff Off, has long advocated against the practice.

“Often you’re surrounded by six or seven police officers with dogs nearby. It can be very intimidating,” Mr Shoebridge said.

“If nothing is found in that first search, what they should do is apologise and let people go on their way,” he said.

But statistics show this is not the case, with people increasingly being taken away for full strip-searches.

A strip-search, according to experts, involves the removal of clothing but should not extend to making the person expose their breasts or genital areas. They must also be conducted by a member of the same sex.

The “squat and cough” practice is arguably illegal, according to Mr Shoebridge, as it constitutes a “body cavity search” and thus requires a medical practitioner to be present.

Mr Shoebridge said it also breached “the overarching requirement to preserve privacy and dignity”.

“It’s far from uncommon. It’s a regular occurrence,” he added.

Mr Kalantar said the legality of “squat and cough” was murky.

“Police are not trained to the extent of, say, a clinical doctor,” he told news.com.au. “I think it’s certainly a dirty practice.

“I don’t understand how it’s a good usage of police resources.

“If you’re a father or a mother, do you really want police tapping on your children’s genitals? Do you really want a state that says it’s OK for this to occur? I have several clients who have been stripsearched — some of whom are child sex abuse survivors. It’s traumatic for them. It reawakens that torment. (Strip-searches) should only be used on very special occasions.”

WHAT DO POLICE AND THE GOVERNMENT SAY?

Police authorities stand by the prevalence of drug dogs and strip-searches, arguing it’s an effective way to ensure community safety.

News.com.au put a series of questions to NSW Police regarding the number of strip-search operations at Central station, the number of strip-searches conducted in NSW overall, and the cost of running operations involving drug dogs.

A spokesperson for NSW Police said the force detected illicit drugs on 1553 occasions during field strip-searches last year.

“Police officers do not enjoy carrying out strip-searches, but it is a power that has been entrusted to us and searches reveal drugs and weapons,” a spokesperson said.

“People who are trying to hide such items frequently secrete them in private places, and the only way to locate them is by a strip-search, which may involve asking the person to squat.

“Police are trained not to rely solely on a drug-detection dog indication when they exercise their search powers.”

Police said 82 per cent of strip-searches over the past five years resulted in either drugs being found on the person, or the person admitting to recent use or possession.

These statistics are incongruous with separate research conducted by the Redfern Legal Centre, Sniff Off and the National Drug and Alcohol Research Centre, which all argued the figure of “false positives” was far higher.

Samantha Lee, solicitor and head Redfern Legal Centre’s police accountability practice states:

“This figure is misleading, because admitting to recent use or possession of drugs is not an offence. To be charged with possession of a prohibited drug police must prove a person knowingly had possession of the drug at the time of their interaction with police. Also, the mere possession of a prohibited drug on its own would not meet the legal requirements of ‘serious’ and urgent’ to conduct a strip search.”

Police also said strip-searches were only carried out in a minority of cases, but did not comment on their increase over the past decade.

“Field strip-searches represent fewer than 1 per cent of the total number of all searches in NSW. Only about 20 per cent of strip-searches are initiated following a drug-detection dog indication. The majority of person searches carried out by police are not strip-searches.

“Training for police in how to undertake a person search occurs at the Police Academy and is reinforced in a number of forums throughout an officer’s career.”

The NSW government likewise takes an unapologetically hard-line approach to combating drug use.

Appearing on the ABC Q&A panel last week, Premier Gladys Berejiklian was asked about the rise in strip-searches.

She argued safety should ultimately take first priority, and the presence of police and drug dogs was the best way to ensure that safety.

“We want to make sure people are safe when they attend any event, music festival or otherwise, but also that they’re treated respectfully and appropriately,” the Premier said. “So, we’re always looking at ways in which we can improve the respect that young people feel they’re receiving. But also, the difficult thing that I have as Premier is keeping the community safe. It’s always difficult knowing where to draw the line on what community safety means.

“The bottom line is, and you could call me old-fashioned if you like, but illegal drugs are illegal for a reason.

“Please go and have fun and enjoy yourselves, but don’t risk not coming back to your family and friends, because there’s nothing worse than seeing a young person’s life lost.”

WHAT SHOULD YOU DO IF YOU’RE STOPPED?

Legal experts say you can’t refuse a search if it’s demanded, but it’s important to stress that you don’t consent to the search.

“The first thing you need to say is that you do not consent. Be polite, be affable, but say you do not consent,” Mr Kalantar said.

By making police note that you don’t consent to a search, the evidence may be put aside if the search is later found to be unlawful, he explained.

That said, you should always comply with police requests, as refusing to be stripsearched would likely land you in hot water.

Mr Kalantar also recommended you ask police if you are free to leave, and stressed that you had the right to request to speak to a lawyer.

He said there were some cases — such as being under 18 or of indigenous background — where you were afforded extra protections.

If a person is found to have drugs on them, the consequences range in severity depending on the quantity and police officer in question.

If the amount is small enough to warrant personal consumption — say, a single joint or a couple of pills — Mr Shoebridge says police can choose to issue a caution or an infringement notice, which doesn’t require court attendance.

But police can also choose to take it further. “Police can, purely at their own discretion, decide to formally charge you and make you go to court,” he said. “This can have devastating consequences.”

That said, even if police didn’t find drugs on you, they have the power to deny you entry into a festival — as was the case with Ms Moore.

“Getting your money back is only half the battle,” said Mr Kalantar, who confirmed several clients of his had had their tickets confiscated in these circumstances. “There’s all these extra costs — hotels, travelling interstate, petrol.

“It’s a ludicrous position that a young person attends a festival but just because an indication is made, they may lose the right to attend that festival.”

Ultimately, Mr Kalantar stressed it was important not to jump to conclusions if you’re issued with a court notice, or assume your life is over.

“I really want young people to understand it’s OK to make mistakes, and there are people who can help them and it’s OK,” he said. “Mistakes like this won’t ruin your life.”

@gavindfernando | [email protected]

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The Chase Files Daily Newscap 7/10/2018

Good Morning #realdreamchasers! Here is The Chase Files Daily News Cap for Tuesday 10th July 2018. Remember you can read full articles by purchasing Daily Nation Newspaper (DN), via Barbados Today (BT) or Barbados Government Information Services (BGIS).

IDEAS4BARBADOS FORUM NOW LIVE – Members of the public are invited to register on the ideas4barbados forum, which is now live at https://labour.gov.bb/ideas4barbados. During her presentation of the Mini-Budget last month, Prime Minister Mia Amor Mottley stated that Barbadians would be allowed to play their part in the rebuilding of the country. Subsequently, persons were encouraged to submit suggestions on how to improve Barbados by emailing [email protected]. Network administrator at the Ministry of Labour and Social Partnership Relations, Paul Mayers, explained that the ideas submitted by email were read and categorised in the forum according to the duties of the specific Ministry. “The public is not allowed to create topics on the forum but to comment. Topics are created by the moderators based on the ideas submitted by email, and representatives from each Ministry will moderate the forum for their respective Ministry,” he stated. Mayers added that persons could also visit https://labour.gov.bb, and click on the logo on the left under “Additional Features”, to access the forum. (BGIS)

HOPE FOR SQUATTERS – Over 100 squatters in a St John community are hoping their dreams of owning land there will become a reality. On Sunday evening, residents of Welch Village and surrounding districts turned up at Victory Wesleyan Holiness Church to a town hall meeting organised by parliamentary representative and Minister in the Ministry of Housing, Charles Griffith. It was to make good on promises during the recent General Election in which Griffith, of the Barbados Labour Party (BLP), won the seat that had been held by the Democratic Labour Party since 1958. He told them they would be able to purchase the land at ten cents per square foot, with Government footing the remainder of the bill. Residents were asked to complete a Tenantries Freehold Purchase Act form which, after submission to the ministry, would expedite the process. Myrico Morris, of the Welch/Bath Land Community Group, said land ownership was among the pressing problems in the community. “We have attended previous meetings with the previous administration who have also promised similar notions. So we are willing and ready to submit the forms to be able to regularise the status, and to also go forward and have our own names placed on property. “It wasn’t done with the last administration; hopefully it will be done with this one. But either way, the people of St John really want this process completed,” he said. (DN)

CALL FOR BARBADOS LAW SCHOOL – Barbados is being urged to set up its own law school. The proposal has come from principal of the University of the West Indies (UWI) Cave Hill, Professor Eudine Barriteau. She made the request during a courtesy call with Attorney General and Minister of Legal Affairs Dale Marshall, Permanent Secretary Yvette Goddard and Deputy Permanent Secretary Charles Piggott at the ministry in Wildey, St Michael yesterday. Director of Institutional Planning at the UWI, Gale Hall, was also present. Barriteau explained that she saw the establishment of a law school as not only being able to cater to Barbadians, but those from across the Caribbean and as far as England. She asked the Attorney General to “consider it seriously”, adding she would also raise the topic with the Minister of Education Santia Bradshaw and Prime Minister Mia Mottley. The principal stressed that she would like Barbados to be seen as the hub for education in the Caribbean. In response, Marshall said there were a number of issues to be considered in the proposal, but he also wanted to hear the opinion of the Council of Legal Education on the matter. During the courtesy call, other matters discussed included the establishment of a Centre for Food Security and Cooperation, and an upcoming symposium on biosecurity issues. UWI currently has the Hugh Wooding Law School in Trinidad and Tobago and the Norman Manley Law School in Jamaica. (BGIS)

NOW CALLS FOR FULL AND THOROUGH PROBE INTO ALLEGED POLICE HARASSMENT CASE – The national spotlight was today turned on the operations of the Royal Barbados Police Force (RBPF) with the National Organization of Women (NOW) calling on the top brass of the Force to ensure that an alleged case of harassment of two females was fully investigated. However, when contacted the Force’s Public Relations Officer Acting Inspector Rodney Inniss was tightlipped on a reported incident on Saturday night in which two lawmen are accused of harassing a group of three women at the Soca Legends event at the Lloyd Erskine Sandiford Centre. According to one newspaper report, one of the women was approached by one of the two officers and asked for a dance. However, after he was denied, both he and his colleague, who were said to be operating under the influence of alcohol, responded in an aggressive manner to the women. Police were summoned and the two cops were taken to District ‘A’ Police Station for interviews. However, up to today the names of the officers were still not released and no charges were laid against them, with Inniss reporting that the matter was still under active investigation. In response, NOW Public Relations Officer Marsha Hinds told Barbados TODAY the two officers in question needed to be held accountable for their actions, as she issued a call for lawmen to take another look how they deal with harassment cases. “I hope that what has happened over the weekend becomes a turning point in our discussion about the police force and about the responses to patriarchy within the police force,” she said, adding that “these things are open secrets so it will be interesting to see how this case plays out because police officers protect their own”. Hinds also called for a full and thorough investigation into the matter, while lamenting that in criminal cases involving lawmen, “you never get names or [find out] what happens with these investigations or if the people are brought to account. “We are hearing too many of these accounts,” she said. Insisting that Saturday’s incident was not an isolated one, she recounted a personal experience of going to report a domestic abuse case and being “hit on” by an officer. “We have heard about police officers using that [domestic abuse complaints] as an opportunity for a dating service,” she said, while pointing out that “it is a reason why some victims in domestic violence situations do not go to the police to report because of the response they get – that not being the matter being trivialized, but overtures that are made by police officers.” However, while making it clear that it was not all officers who were engaging in the worrying practice, the NOW spokeswoman said her organization was concerned that there were still too many instances of police officers using their influence to prey on the vulnerable. “We also have complaints from men that after having gone through a police circumstance they then find themselves on the outside of the relationships because the officers were having relations with those same women,” Hinds charged, while warning that there was a bigger issue of the Force and what had become its culture. She is therefore calling for a change in how the RBPF operates. “The culture has to change, but the culture belongs to an overall society where women are not valued and domestic violence is still not seen as a real complaint,” she said. (BT)

GUILTY AS CHARGED – It took a bar manager almost four years to own up to three drug charges. And for his crime, Jerry Ricardo Baker, of Middlefield Road, Princess Royale Avenue, St Michael, will have to find $1,200 in one week or spend a month at HMP Dodds. When the case was called before Magistrate Douglas Frederick today the accused pleaded guilty to possession, possession with intent to supply and possession with intent to traffic 65 grammes of cannabis on July 29, 2014. Station Sergeant Samuel Hinds said the illegal substance was found in a garbage bin on the aforementioned date when police executed a search warrant at Baker’s residence. Appealing for leniency on behalf of her client, attorney-at-law Sukeena Maynard told the magistrate Baker had been doing well and had also not been before the court in over 18 years. However, pointing out that the accused did have antecedents of a similar nature, the magistrate told Baker: “In your position . . . you can’t afford to have those types of convictions.” He then imposed the fine on the possession charge and reprimanded and discharged Baker on the other two. (BT)

FEUDING BROTHERS BACK IN COURT – Feuding brothers Kirt and Paul Alleyne were back before the No. 1 District ‘A’ Magistrate’s Court today. Last week Paul, who accused his brother of assaulting him on June 28, was given the task of bringing his mother to court. “My mother said she is not coming here,” Paul told Magistrate Douglas Frederick this morning. Kirt replied: “It’s because he refused to let me speak to my mom because you gave the order that I stay away from the house.” However, the magistrate asked the brothers not to go into the details as the case, which was first logged in court on July 3, had not reached the evidence stage. Frederick also removed a bond preventing Kirt from going to his mother’s house after she failed to appear in court. The assault case, in which the 36-year-old Kirt, of Bridge Gap, Small Land, St Michael, has maintained his innocence, continues on September 5. (BT)

CADOGAN SENTENCED TO THREE YEARS IN DODDS – A Bridgetown magistrate has given a 41-year-old man, who said he had nowhere to lay his head, a place to stay for the next three years. That’s how long Steven DeCarlo Cadogan will spend at HMP Dodds for committing four burglary charges. Cadogan pleaded guilty to entering the storage rooms at Kensington Oval on June 25 and to stealing a weed whacker and back pack blower worth $3,099 belonging to the Oval, as well as two wrenches, two pliers, one spanner, nine wrench sets, a hack saw and a frame, two set of Allan keys, four screwdrivers and a measuring tape worth $400 belonging to Matthew Burrowes. He also admitted to burglarizing the Oval three days later on June 28 – this time stealing 378.54 litres of diesel worth $1,004. 06. Cadogan further pleaded guilty to stealing six cases of drinks worth $228 belonging to Roseanne Alleyne and having a number of articles in his possession that could be used in connection with theft between June 24 and July 3. Sergeant Vernon Waithe told Magistrate Graveney Bannister that the accused, who is well known to the court, was caught on CCTV climbing over the Herman Griffith gate at the Oval before he was arrested. In his defence Cadogan explained that he had a drug problem. He explained that he sold the drinks and spent the money on several items, including alcohol and cocaine. He was therefore ordered by the magistrate to undergo drug rehabilitation and counseling while serving his time at the St Philip penitentiary. (BT)

CROP OVER REVERSAL – It’s back to Friday for the Pic-O-De Crop calypso finals. And even though reigning Calypso Monarch Ian iWeb Webster is yet to decide whether or not he will defend his crown, he immediately gave the thumbs up to the National Cultural Foundation’s (NCF) announcement today that after consulting with stakeholders, the island’s biggest calypso competition would revert to the final Friday, instead of the final Saturday leading up to the annual Crop Over climax in Grand Kadooment. “I am delighted. I don’t know why it was moved in the first place,” he told Barbados TODAY following the announcement which came as music to the ears of reigning the calypso king. He explained that Pic-O-De-Crop finals on Friday not only held traditional value for Barbadians, but made good business sense for artistes. “What it now allows is for persons like myself that have party songs that are doing well to leave Pic-O-De-Cropand work. Last year and the years when it was held on Saturdays, you couldn’t do any fetes and you could not do gigs because you had to preserve your vocals for the competition. But on Friday it is the last competition, you can do your gigs and enjoy Foreday Mornin’. “I have never enjoyed Fore Day Mornin’ [so] I am happy; very, very happy,” he said. The reigning calypso monarch, who previously won the title in 2013 and 2014 and who has already generated significant interest with this year’s offerings, including M.I.A and Best In Me, was however unable to say whether the change would convince him to defend his 2017 crown. iWeb, who is also a finalist in this year’s Party Monarch and Sweet Soca contests, said he would make the announcement next week. “By next Friday I will definitely announce what I intend to do,” he told Barbados TODAY. In 2014, the finals had to be pushed back by 24 hours as a precaution against Tropical Storm Bertha which threatened the island with heavy showers and winds. The following year, the then Minister of Culture, Sports and Youth, Stephen Lashley, announced that the change would be permanent, with the popular Foreday Mornin’ Jam and Pic-O-De-Crop finals taking place on separate days. That year, there were 54 bands registered for Foreday Mornin’ compared to 37 so far this year, with Lashley suggesting that “so phenomenal has been the growth that it is now abundantly clear that it is necessary for this event to be held on a separate day in order to allow for more efficient and effective management of this event”. He also said at the time that notwithstanding the fact that the 2014 decision to postpone the Pic-O-De-Crop finals was in reaction of impending bad weather, “we had an opportunity to give this a test run. And after consultation with our stakeholders, we have decided that in 2015, Foreday Mornin’ Jam will be held on Friday, July 31, and the Pic-O-De-Crop Finals will take place on Saturday, August 1”. However, following the May 24 general elections in which Lashley’s Democratic Labour Party was swept from power and a new minister – former calypso monarch John King – has taken control of the NCF, the organizers seem to have had a major change of heart. This time around, once the 2018 calypso monarch is crowned on Friday August 3, revellers will take to the streets at 1 a.m. for the popular Foreday Mornin’ Jam, which will end at 7 a.m. on Saturday, August 4. While assuring patrons that all tickets previously purchased for the Pic-O-De Crop Final would remain valid. The NCF said this change was expected to have a favourable impact on the annual Bridgetown Market, which will offer patrons extended hours this year, running from noon on Saturday, August 4 to 5 a.m. on Sunday August 5. The market will reopen on 2 p.m. until midnight on Sunday and end on Monday, August 6, after Grand Kadooment. In the meantime, the recently introduced room rate levy may well be the straw that broke the backs of Grand Kadooment bandleaders, some of whom are complaining about cancellations from their regular overseas patrons this season, since the additional tax took effect on July1. Head of the Barbados Association of Masqueraders (BAM) Chetwyn Stewart told Barbados TODAY the levy had made the already high cost of playing mas in Barbados higher, during a time when tourists were finding better value for money from other carnivals across the region. “The new levy is just one of many things that would affect the festival. When you add all of these things together, the impact is really telling because Barbados is already expensive,” Stewart said. However, the BAM president’s solution to the problem was not a removal of the tax but rather an upgrade of the festival so that visitors could feel as if they were paying a premium price for a premium product. “The reason why we are getting a big hit is because we have not paid enough attention to the Crop Over brand,” he lamented. “So a lot of other countries have caught up with Barbados because they are putting attention into their carnival because they value the overseas money that it brings in. So you find places like Jamaica and Vincy Mas [St Vincent carnival] being more appealing and it has gotten to a stage where people just decide to skip Barbados because the price has gotten so high,” Stewart said. “At the end of day even if you have a product that costs a little more, as long as it is good, people will come. Barbados has always been an expensive destination but people always say how much they love it and want to come back. So the same thing goes for Kadoomen. We have to make sure that we refresh and upgrade the quality of the festival so that people don’t feel as if they are shortchanged,” the Power X Four band leader stressed. Fellow masquerade bandleader, Anthony Martin of Kontact, concurred with Stewart’s assessment saying he had noticed a drop in overseas patronage since the introduction of the tax. “Our people that jump with us are telling us that it costs them $3, 000 to come to Barbados from the United States. Now we have the additional room levy and it is causing us some pain,” he said. Barbados TODAY contacted the Barbados Hotel and Tourism Association for a fuller picture of the cancellations. However, officials said they had just begun to compile the data. During her Budget last month, Prime Minister Mia Mottley revealed that the mandatory room rate levy would be applied across the board. In a follow up notice, the Ministry of Tourism and International Transport said the levy, which is to be paid by guests, would be applied to the Villa sub sector and all other vacation rental properties, as well as luxury class hotels at a maximum of USD $10.00 per night ; “A” class hotels at USD $5.00 per night and “B” class hotels, apartments and guest houses at USD $2.50 per night. (BT)

COME AGAIN - Go back to the drawing board on the semi-finals of the Party Monarch and Sweet Soca competitions. This is the call by some artistes to the National Cultural Foundation (NCF), following last weekend’s drawn-out Phenomenal Friday show at Kensington Oval put on by 4D Entertainment in collaboration with the NCF. It featured the International Bashment Soca finals, and the Party Monarch and Sweet Soca semis. The show was scheduled to start at 10 p.m. but only got underway at 11:20 p.m. after artistes in the Party Monarch and Sweet Soca took issue with their dressing room conditions and refused to perform until they were rectified. It ended after 6 a.m. Saturday. Seasoned entertainer Adrian AC Clarke said the night was too long and was a disservice to the competitors. He said while he understood that performing at early morning hours was supposed to be a norm for entertainers, it was entirely different when one was competing. “Going on stage at 4 a.m. at a concert or show is a different thing from going on a stage to perform in a competition. If it’s a show, fine, you just come, sing to the audience and go. But you’re out there in competitive mode and vying against 15 people in each competition. “I think it is a disservice to the competitors. You have artistes that are taking part in at least two competitions, in some cases you could even have three; that’s not fair to them,” he told the DAILY NATION. “I’m not just talking about us the competitors, but I’m talking about the judges who may be up there tired too because they are there from early to judge this show.” Clarke, who performed in Sweet Soca after 4 a.m. Saturday, said patrons were also not up for the long show, evident in the dwindling numbers as the morning went on. He suggested that the NCF rethink the structure for the show and come up with something better suited for everyone. (DN)

AC BACK TO COOL THINGS DOWN - If you missed Adrian Clarke last year, it was because he took a mental break. “Taking time ain’t laziness. Last year I didn’t record any party music per se. I didn’t have any drive to do it, and the only recording I remember doing was for Deepu Panjwani of Lethal Studios. He did a track that included Stabby, Holla Bak. Gabby was featured with Square One and Alison Hinds, and I did a song called More Gyal,” Clarke told EASY during an interview in Maxwell, Christ Church. Describing the song as a “bashment rhythm with an Indian feel”, he said he had since heard the rhythm played, but didn’t remember ever hearing his song being played. “I’ve chalked it down to nobody expected me to be singing on that rhythm. I have wondered if when DJs see my name on it, they think that it isn’t a social commentary, so just put it one side and not play it. I don’t dig,” he said shrugging nonchalantly. Another part of him having missed last year’s competition was the anticipation of the birth of his granddaughter Zakyrah, who he refers to as Zoe. “She got me chupid. It feels like when I had my daughter Azizi, and was a father for the first time. I love every minute of being a granddaddy-o. Zoe is very smart at nine months; and, if I’m not home to see what she does, I get a video a few minutes later. Right now my storage is almost to capacity with all of her photos and videos,” he said smiling broadly. AC, as he is known on the calypso stage, decided on two recordings for this year’s sweetest summer festival. And last Friday he would have competed in the Sweet Soca arena with Soca Her, and at EASY magazine press time the competition was still ongoing. “The ragga soca, which was composed second, was the first one to be recorded. The party song he Band Coming was written last year, and I decided not to record it because of time. The response to Soca You has been good. The last time I was in Sweet Soca semis was 2016,” he said, laughing, adding that he did not make the cut for Party Monarch this year. AC, whose signature song is Nice Time, said he liked writing songs that made people draw their own conclusions. “I got the idea walking from the bathroom to my closet. The melody started to come, and the hook kept ringing in my ears; so I kept playing with it until I got what you hear now,” he said. The consensus regarding the song was that of a provocative nature, but he said it was open to interpretation. Referring to a song he wrote in 2003 called Hot, he said that song was considered provocative as well. “In Barbados, once it’s soca and it has any sort of provocative connotations, it can be deemed not suitable for airplay; and that’s where an artiste’s craftiness has to come into play. Soca You has no words or verses that would get the song banned,” he stressed. “I guess Soca You is one of those songs that draw on people’s imaginations. There ain’t one single line in there that is naughty, although I’ve had people coming to me and saying the song is nice but naughty. And I’m saying to myself: ‘Wunna too wutless-minded. That is the problem’. The song from start to finish tells a story, and if people listen they would understand that,” AC said, winking slyly. He added that part of the inspiration for the song came after listening to the offerings from this year’s Trinidad and Tobago Carnival season. “All the songs that have lower beats per minute stand out – Kes, Machel, Voice and Margaret Blackman. But the one that did it for me was Shal Marshall’s Splinters,” he said. This year is also a milestone for the two-time Pic-O-De-Crop king as he celebrates 25 years in the arena. “This year I have a song called Post Mortem. It is a political post mortem of the recent General Election. I was talking with [Red Plastic] Bag and told him I had a song called Election Review, and I wanted something completely different. After hearing it, he said Post Mortem and I said thanks. “I didn’t want the song to be too serious. People don’t want to be bombarded by the sad news that goes on. They like a little comic relief at some point, and you can do that without being a clown. So I got some ideas from Carl ‘Alff’ Padmore, passed by Gabby and wrote the song over,” AC said, adding that competition was very stiff this year. Pressed for an idea of what he had planned for judging night tomorrow, he said he only hoped to make the finals as he did last year. “I was hitting really hard in 2000 with a song called Search For Intelligent Life and came fourth. I was hitting really hard in 1995 with a song called Nice Time; I came fourth. I don’t intend to be just another number in the competition this year. And for 25 years I better try and make the finals too, because it would look real bad that I made it all the other years, and at 25 years my stumps go flying,” he said. (DN)

HARD-FOUGHT CENTURY – Joseph Nathaniel Gittens has travelled the hard road to becoming Barbados’ newest centenarian, but you could not tell today by his upbeat mood and spirited personality. Gittens was the centre of attention at his Haggatt Hall, St Michael residence this morning as he was paid the traditional visit by Governor General Dame Sandra Mason in celebration of his remarkable milestone. Flanked by his 93-year-old wife Lillian, to whom he has been married to for 58 years, and with whom he has two children, the attractively clad Gittens – dressed in a lily white shirt, grey trousers, tie and black shoes – entertained the Governor General, as well as family members, friends and well-wishers, who gathered for the memorable event. On more than one occasion during the brief gathering, Gittens sang the Joseph Niles song, Hard Road to Travel, which, according to his 73-year-old daughter Vivienne St Hill, has recently become one of his favourites. “Recently, he has been singing that [song] every morning with mum, that is why it stick in his memory. But, he was never a singer or dancer. Mum is the singer, not daddy,” she jokingly stated. St Hill added that her dad, who was a joiner and carpenter in his youthful days, had followed in his family’s footsteps with his love for the trades. “We have lots of memories with him. All of his uncles were in the furniture business and he followed as well. They were all into building furniture. Up to one year ago he was still sawing wood with an electric saw and we had to beg him to stop. He also would tell us stories about when he was a teenager and he drove cane trucks to Lower Estate,“ the daughter said, adding that her dad still maintained a decent appetite even at 100. “He was never one who would be picky about eating. Very seldom would he dislike a certain food.” St Hill also reminisced on Gittens’ love for cricket, stating that he would always dress in the sharpest gear when stepping onto the field of play. “His sport was cricket. I remember he played until he was in his forties. He would play at Lower Estate on Sheffield pasture. He would put on his white suit every Saturday evening and he would go down spick and span. That is what he loved.” As she reminisced on life with her parents, St Hill said her dad was a stickler for discipline, although her mother was even stricter. “Oh yes, very much so, but mum even more so. If you blinked she would be down on you. I got more discipline through her. She was harder on us than him. Daddy would normally just speak to us and leave it for another time, but mum was much stronger in discipline. “He was strong as well because he would even discipline my cousins who lived next door and they could tell you,” she recalled. Gittens also has a 76-year-old son, Clarence Carter, seven grandchildren and eighteen great grandchildren. (BT)

For daily or breaking news reports follow us on Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter & Facebook. That’s all for today folks. There are 174 days left in the year. Shalom! #thechasefilesdailynewscap #thechasefiles #dailynewscapsbythechasefiles

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