#the last part irrelevant i just miss Gina and remembered she said that to me

[cowardlycowboys]

blocked anon get off your self-righteous high horse

also my therapist said I could say kill yourself a long time ago so

[acourtofsnakes]

Ret'urcye Mhi - Rogue, Chapter 7 | The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (F)

Summary: Can things go back to normal after the Mandalorian saw you break down? Or have walls been torn down that can’t be replaced?

Warnings: Light swearing, I don’t want to give it away but no smut but… a ‘moment’ with some certainly hot thoughts and pining but nothing heavy though, reader has a back tattoo, let me know if I forgot anything!

AN: I have brought in Cara Dune in this, and she will be a frequent character. I by no means condone what Gina Carano did, and I am pleased and relieved that she is gone. However, I do like her character, as many others do. She IS only mentioned in this one briefly but will be a main character in a few future chapters. 

Also, Readers tattoo is loosely based on this design!(link)  I’m not sure who the exact creator is, but it was posted by Urban Threads on Pinterest, but if you know, please tell me! ❤️

Word Count: 8231

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist:  @snipskixandbeskar   @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss​ @jackgrzs

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl | 5: Kyr’am | 6: Cabur | 7: Ret'urcye Mhi |

Mando’a Translation: Ret'urcye mhi - Goodbye

Neither of you mentioned that afternoon. 

It hadn’t come up in the 3 days since, and it hadn’t come up today. You made sure of it. 

Every time Mando looked at you, and you just felt he was going to mention it, you’d change the subject. Or just walk away. You didn’t need to have that conversation with him. You couldn’t have that conversation with him. Or anyone. 

The Mandalorian had sat there, holding you for the hours it took for you to cry yourself out. When the shuddering sobs had given way to hitched breaths and a numb stare, he’d still sat there. Rubbing your back in gentle circles, in time with Duru’s tail gently swaying over your arm. He hadn’t uttered a single word either, just letting you break down in his arms. 

When the quiet ambiance of the ship and the pressure of his hand had lulled you into sleep, he’d carried you to his bed – well, the narrow cot that jutted out from the wall in what was supposed to be the medical area. He’d given up his sleeping compartment to Grogu a long time ago, to keep the little creature warm and safe. 

He’d laid you in, covering you with the blanket and then one more that he pulled out from a unit. 

You were asleep, so you hadn’t seen the way his gloved fingers gently brushed back the hair from your tear flushed cheeks, the way they’d lingered for a moment as he’d looked down at the soft strands gliding over his fingers. You hadn’t felt the way he’d frozen when a sudden want crashed through him, to yank off his gloves and run his bare hands through your hair, feel the silkiness and the texture for himself. 

And you also wouldn’t have noticed the way his breathing went ragged for a moment and he’d lurched back, stumbling away so quickly he nearly overturned a box on his way out of the door. 

Your sleep hadn’t remained easy. Only a few hours later, you had woken up screaming, unsure of where you were, why you were on a thin cot that smelled like metal and smoke and something distinctly unique and almost like sandalwood. It was somehow comforting, soothing. You had inhaled the scent, trying to calm down your pounding heard and regain control of your breathing.  

It was only when you could suck in a full breath that you realised where you were, who’s bed this was. 

A feeling of gratefulness had crashed over you, only to be immediately wiped out by shame. You had broken down in front of him, spat such awful, awful things to his face.

And when you heard footsteps outside the compartment door, the husky baritone of his voice as he called out your name softly, you’d gone still. Like you were back on the run, mere inches away from a hunter and one move would mean disaster. 

He’d lingered, you could see by the shadows of his feet under the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. A wild thought had come to you, that he had his hand pressed to the door and you could just.. open it. Open it and let him come in, let him carry the burden of your nightmares and your feelings even If it was just for a little while. You could share some of those plaguing thoughts that you’d unleashed today. And he would listen. You didn’t know him that well, but you knew him enough to be confident he would sit there, let you talk. He knew what it was like to be alone, to have emotions and worries that you had no choice to bear yourself. 

The temptation was so strong, you craved that contact and connection so much that you were halfway across the room before your snarling argument came back in full technicolour. The things you’d said to him. The appalling way you’d acted. 

No.

You couldn’t see him. You couldn’t face him after that. After what you had said and the way you had cracked. You shook your head firmly, waiting until you heard a sigh so soft you might have imagined it and retreating footsteps. 

It was only then you that you returned to the bed, pulling the twin blankets up high over your shoulders. 

You’d deal with seeing him in the morning, but for now, all you could do was bury your face in the thin pillow and try not to notice how it smelt like him.

Something had changed between the two of you since that afternoon. He had glimpsed a part of you that you normally kept perfectly hidden, even from yourself. 

…

You were on your way to another bounty, one of the last couple of pucks that Mando had left. 

Mando had mentioned it was a hot, desert planet and he’d prefer it if you stayed in the ship with Grogu. It’d be far too hot for the little guy out there. You had obliged happily, more than fine to stay in. You didn’t like to be too hot, it made you uncomfortable and agitated. 

The cockpit was quiet, a peaceful silence had descended upon it as Mando flew the ship. 

You’d found yourself drawn to watching his hands lately. There was something… oddly soothing about it. Watching him work the controls, hold Grogu, clean his weapons. 

You wondered if he missed the sensation of touch, and then wondered if yours and the kids presence here made it harder for him. Meant he had less chances to take off his armour and be free of it. 

Of course, that had then led you onto the thought of wondering if he slept naked when he was alone. 

The thought of him lying there, nothing hiding him, separating him from the world. 

The thin blankets sliding over the body you knew was toned, yet soft enough in all the right places. 

It made your mouth a little dry, your cheeks a little pink and you struggled to find something else to think about. 

Your eyes drifted to his hands again, remembering the sound of the gloves being drawn off the other night. 

They were mesmerising, agile, and you couldn’t stop thinking about them in your hair, on your skin. 

Stars above, get a grip, girl. 

You mentally scolded yourself for these thoughts, trying to steer your damned imagination onto something more appropriate. 

Luckily, your saviour came in the form of Mando himself. He tilted his head back slightly, enough for you to know he was talking to you, “What’s your favourite planet? Or one you’d like to visit?” 

The question surprised you, you had to admit. You weren’t used to people asking about your likes and dislikes. You smiled though, perhaps this was his gentle way to break any tension left over. “Hmm… I think… I’d have to say the planet I’d like to visit most... either Hoth or Coruscant.”

Mando laughed, that gorgeous rough, honey laugh, “Okay, Coruscant I can understand, but Hoth? Really?”

You pouted at the back of his head, “Yes!! It sounds beautiful.”

The Mandalorian laughed more, “Beautiful? Sweetheart, it’s covered in ice. It’s freezing there. All you would see is ice and snow… and more ice and more snow.”

You scowled at him now, throwing the leftover wrapper of Grogu’s cookies at his helmet, “And? Snow and ice are stunning. They’re powerful and strong. I’ve only ever been in a proper snowfall once, and I fell in love. The way the flakes float down and.. dance even if there’s the faintest breeze. And then when they land on your skin or your eyelashes like little cold kisses… The sound it makes under your boots when you walk on a fresh fall. And it softens everything, makes it easier on your eyes to see across the landscape… it’s quiet, muffled… Besides, I like the cold.”

Little did you know, Mando was grinning like an idiot under his helmet, adoring the way you defend it to him, the way you describe something as simple as ice and snow. “You like the cold, huh? Then why are you always grumbling that the heating is broken?” The teasing lilt to his voice was evident, so animated and content, compared to his usual cooler, calm silence.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. “That is… completely irrelevant.” You looked at the back of his head, “What about you? If my choices are so hilarious.”

The Mandalorian made a thoughtful noise, “I wouldn’t say there’s one place in particular… But… there’s a few sanctuary planets dotted around. Places with really pretty, dense forests where you could walk for days and not spot anyone else. They’re protected and safe, no dangerous animals or anything allowed… literally sanctuaries. I’d like to take Grogu there… let him wander and have fun and eat things he shouldn’t without having to look over my shoulder.” 

It was the most you’d ever heard him speak in one go, and there was a tenderness in his voice that brought tears to your eyes. This man truly loved his little green adoptive son and would do anything for him. “That sounds... stunning. I’ve heard of those planets and always wondered what they were like...” 

He made a hum of agreement, fingers working over the control panel as he put it in autopilot. “One day…” He turned around in his chair, “What about your favourite colour?” 

You moved to sit cross-legged in the seat, defying the concept of a chair. “Blue. Darker blues, like a midnight blue.” You swayed your chair from side to side slightly, “Actually, the same colour as the cloak you got me. So well done, kudo’s for you.”

Mando leant back in his own chair, tapping the side of his helmet before resting his hands on his thighs again. “This thing lets me read minds; you know.”

You began pulling the pins from your hair, “Mmhm, and I can fly.” You raise an eyebrow at him, grinning. 

He chuckled, watching you intently behind the helmet though you wouldn’t know that, watching every pin get removed from holding up your hair, “It wouldn’t surprise me at this point, princess.” He tapped his thighs absently, “You wanna know the real secret?”

You nodded, reaching in for a pin that had become stuck deep in your hair, the last one. “Surprise me.” Got it. You yanked the pin out, letting your hair fall down and your fingers through it. You sighed a little in relief as you rubbed your fingertips against your scalp, chasing away any tightness from the day. 

Mando didn’t say anything. He was too distracted, to struck into silence by the sight of your hair. 

The light from the ship and coming in through the windows turned some of the strands to gold, igniting them with that fire that blazed within you – and that he’d been on the receiving end. 

His hands tightened over his thighs, because he was overtaken by a craving, a need to remove your hands and feel your hair for himself. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d had these thoughts. 

Fuck, he’d been having these thoughts since he first saw you. He just hadn’t realised them until that night he’d nearly lost his life and woken up to you passed out on his chest. 

He’d frozen, even his breathing stopping as he felt the warm weight of you, even though the armour. 

He couldn’t bear to move you, to take away that pressure, the closeness of another human that he had missed for so long. 

So, he hadn’t. He left you there. Spent hours watching you sleep, the warmth of your breath slightly fogging up the armour on his chest. 

“Lori? Anyone in there?” You tilted your head, watching the man before you that was staring at you intently, his breathing somewhat ragged. 

He startled slightly, coming back to himself, “Huh?”

You chuckled, “Where did you go? I was waiting for you to knock me off my feet with your revelation.”

He made a noise, “Uh… I.. actually can’t remember...” He tugged at his glove, an odd gesture so at odds with his usual confident demeanour. 

You tilted your head, still smiling a little, “Are you okay?”

Luckily, he was saved from answering by the beeping of the controls behind him. 

You’d arrived at the planet. 

~

It was hot. 

Beyond hot. 

The air was warm, the water was warm, you were warm. 

And already awake, having just calmed your breathing down from another nightmare, when you heard Grogu, his little coos and gurgled filtering down the hall to you. 

The poor little creature had probably woken up from the heat. You had been on this desert planet for a couple of days, opting to stay in and look after the Child whilst Mando hunted down the bounty. The days here were scorching, a dry heat that sucked the life from you immediately. Even the nights were hot, unlike normal freezing desert nights. 

Mando had returned this evening, panting from the heat after coming up from the carbonite chamber. “I swear it’s getting hotter out there.”

The cooling system on the Crest was just as temperamental as the heating, so it wasn’t exactly cool in here. The metal floors, which were normally always chilled, were warm underfoot. Mando had let you keep his room, and it was just as hot, being contained in with itself, so you’d been sleeping with the doors open. 

Not that it made a dent. Every single closed space was like a heat trap, especially Grogu’s little compartment. So, no wonder he had woken up. 

You stretched, then slipped from the cot and made your way to Grogu.

It didn’t take long to settle him, he was all tuckered out from the games you’d been playing today, so after patting his skin with a cool cloth, he had fallen back under. 

You were now at the small ‘kitchen’ area in the ship, washing out the cloth. You huffed, splashing some water on your wrists and pulling out the pin that was holding up your hair, and falling out. Grogu had a habit of tugging the ends of your hair in his little fist. 

You’d taken to wearing a thin floaty dress to bed, one you’d picked up in that market before it had turned into a horror show. The material was gauzy, allowing the heat to escape your body without it sticking to your clammy skin. What helped enormously was the large cut out in the back. It secured at the back of your neck, and then fell open, exposing almost your whole back before joining again at the base of your spine. 

It was probably the flimsiest, most sinful thing you’d ever worn, but it was gorgeous and hey, it did the job. 

You rolled your shoulders, pressing the cool cloth to your neck and you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips and you could have sworn you heard a sizzle. 

Footsteps behind you startled you, breaking you from your reverie, and then Mando’s voice filtered through the silence, “Are you okay?”

You turned around, smiling when you saw him because he was still in all his armour… not that you were surprised. He must have been boiling though, under all those heavy layers. 

You nodded, lifting the cloth from your neck, “The kid was awake, but I settled him down, he was really warm.”  

His head was covered, naturally, so you wouldn’t have seen the way his eyes followed a bead of water rolling down your neck, and the unbidden thought of his tongue catching it “Thank you for seeing to him, I didn’t hear..” 

Weird. Normally he was so attuned to Grogu, hearing him before he even woke up if you were sitting together. Maybe he was tired, from his hunting. 

What you didn’t know, couldn’t know, was that he had been staring at the ceiling for the 3rd night in a row. Having thoughts that he should not be having, his body yearning for things it shouldn’t. 

You shook your head, still smiling and turned back to the sink area, “It’s no worries, I was awake anyway so… And you’ve been hunting. You deserve the rest.” You set down the cloth, running your hands through your hair and reaching for your pin to secure it back up. You faced him again, gathering your hair in your hands, “How was it?”

But he wasn’t listening. 

He suddenly moved forward, and then he was in front of you. “Wait.” His voice was low, almost strained. There was a husk to it that hadn’t been there before, but it ignited something within you. 

You froze, your hands still stuck in your hair. You looked up at him, raising your eyebrows slightly, “What..?” It was only now he was right in front of you that you could see his chest, rising and falling rapidly. “Mando, are you okay?”

He shook his head quickly, his helmet tilted down to you, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides, “Let your hair down.” His voice was still that rumbly order, and it was such an odd request that you did just that, letting it tumble back down again. Your own hands trembled slightly as you lowered them. 

A shudder seemed to roll through his body, and he rocked forward on his feet, lurching toward you in a movement that lacked his usual smooth elegance. It was unsteady, unsure. 

He stopped when he was a mere few inches away, the closest you’d been to each other since that afternoon. 

This close, you could practically feel the heat roiling off of him under his armour, and you tilted your head up to meet him, concern in your eyes, “Mando, you need to go and have a cold shower.. You sound like you’re burning up… do you feel flushed?” 

He shook his head jerkily, his hands raising, “Shh… please. I just.. I need to..” He broke off, a sharp intake of air cutting his words. 

Something else began to curl through the worry in your belly, like some instinct knew things you didn’t. You swallowed, your voice low when you next spoke, “You need to what..?”

The Mandalorian was shaking, his body tensing and untensing like he was fighting himself, telling himself not to do this. “I.. I need to touch your hair.” 

Stars, you could feel the flush that crept up his neck and cheeks, like it burned through his helmet but you stayed completely still. 

His words were whispered through gritted teeth, like he was physically trying to bite them back, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-” He sounded like he was in pain, still breathing raggedly. 

Heat flared through your blood, igniting a flame within you that was irresistible. You nodded, letting him see you, “Okay.” Like you could say no to him. 

The vocoder nearly didn’t pick up the huff of relief that escaped his lips and he curled his hands into fists again, “Turn around. And close your eyes.” That rough command was back and you were more than obliging to let him navigate this moment. 

You turned around, facing the kitchen area, looking over the darkened surroundings before shutting your eyes. It immediately threw all your other senses into overdrive, so you could hear every single rasp of his breath as you exposed your skin to him, and the pounding of your own heart. 

“You have to keep them closed. You cannot turn around or look.” There was a desperate plea in his voice, an edge to it that hurt your very soul. He was audibly torn, between his Creed… and this desire that he seemed to have given into. 

You nodded again, aching to reach back and reassure him, “I won’t. I won’t open my eyes or turn around until you tell me, I swear on it, Lori.” You let every ounce of truth and understanding seep through your words, praying that it would be enough to convince him he could trust you. 

Seemingly, it was, because the next noise that you heard could have struck you dead. 

It was the sound of leather rubbing against skin, the friction as they were pulled off, then a soft thump of the material on the floor. 

He had taken off his gloves. 

He was standing behind you… with his hands bare. 

You. A person he hasn’t known for very long at all, and he was partially bare, uncovered. 

Your head exploded, a million thoughts racing through it once, sending your heart into overdrive and your own breathing rapid and unsteady. 

There was a pause, like he was steeling himself and then… then the slightest sensation, like he was catching the ends of your hair, just brushing them. 

That simple movement sent a shiver down your spine, and it was enough to get him to move more. He lifted his hands and then you felt fingers slide into your hair at the back of your head, then slowly, slowly, drag down the length. 

You heard a sharp intake of breath behind you, and then a soft mutter, “It’s so soft..” You barely picked it up, even though the ship was silent. The fingers ghosted through your hair again, and his voice was bewildered, “How do you get it this soft in that tiny ‘fresher..” It was like he was talking to himself. 

You couldn’t help the soft laugh, a release of tension from this whole thing, “I can’t reveal my secrets, Lori. Can’t have your hair being softer than mine. There’s only room for one on this ship.”

He chuckled, and it ran over your bones like honey, dousing them in such a sweet sensation. “I’ll get it out of you one way or another, princess.” 

You rolled your eyes but didn’t get the chance to speak because then his fingers were running up your scalp from the base of your head to the crown, with a light pressure and the feeling was so unbelievably good, that you couldn’t help it. Your head leant back into his touch and the faintest sigh left your lips. “Keep doing that..” Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment crashing over you. Why did you have to say that?

The Mandalorian’s hands had paused, absorbing that soft sigh of pleasure and trying to cool his body. But you had a hold over him, he couldn’t say no. He merely did it again, with a firmer press of his fingers against your scalp, a light scrape of his nails just to get you to make that noise again, to be convinced that you were enjoying this just as much as he was.

You didn’t stop the next sigh, this one louder, more delighted. It was like you knew what the other was thinking, could read each other that well.  

He was driving you insane, rendering you speechless just from playing with your hair. 

You don’t know how long you stood there for, his hands running through the soft locks. 

He lifted it slightly, then made a soft noise. “I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

A tattoo? Oh right. 

It was true, you did. It was a delicate piece, spanning from the top of your spine to just above your hips, lining your spine. It showed the phases of the moon, drawn in a minimalist style, with small stars and additional lines coming out of every other piece. 

You nodded quickly, “I’ve had it for years.” Fuck, could your voice sound anymore needy?

“What does it mean?” His words were murmured and then the next thing could have had you on your knees. 

You heard a sound that had haunted you since the night he nearly died, the sound of leather sliding over skin. The soft plop as it fell to the floor. 

No way. Has he just..

His fingers, his bare fingers ghosted down your spine, following the line of it with a touch so fleeting it almost made you whine. 

In fact, it did, a whimper rising from deep in your chest. 

He was touching you. 

His bare skin, skin that he had sworn by Creed to keep covered and hidden until marriage, was trailing down your spine as light as wings. 

Pleasure shot straight though you, making your nerves and blood sing, making your knees shake and your belly hot. 

A tug on your hair, a tug that was sharp enough to send a faint tinge of pain through your scalp had you moaning, you couldn’t help it. Your lips parted and the moan fell from them, soft, a little high and drawn. 

Mando swore under his breath, his whole body twitching behind yours, “I asked you a question, sweetheart.” There was a hoarseness to his voice that hadn’t been there before, a straining note like your moan had shot right through him. Which is had. 

What does it mean… what does it mean? Focus!!

“Um… right. When I was on the run, initially in the beginning, I never had a place to call home. Everything I knew had been torn away, and I could never settle anywhere. Every night, I would look up into the sky and watch the moon. No matter what planet I was on, no matter where I was, or if there two moons or 4, it was always there. I only had to look up, and there was something up there to ground me, give me some sense of comfort. It might look smaller, or be a different colour, but it was still the moon. And it made me feel… safe. Like it was a… a companion in a way. I just had to look a little closer, beneath the colours or the distance and there it was. It was always in the sky, so I wanted to get it tattooed so that it would always be with me. No matter if I was outside, as free as I could be, or inside and trapped.” You flushed a little, “That probably makes no sense and sounds so stupid.”

You could sense the Mandalorian shaking his head, his voice still low and soft, “No.. I think it’s beautiful. And I get it. I move around so much too, there’s only a few things that always remain the same. So I know the value of having something familiar.” He ghosted his fingers down it again, trailing all the way down to where the cut out portion of your dress stopped and then back up again. 

When his hand reached the top of the tattoo, he slid it up further, cupping the back of your neck in his broad, warm hand. 

It sent electricity shooting across your skin, that blazed as he wrapped his thumb and fingers around either side of your neck, just a gentle pressure there. 

You moaned again; you didn’t even try to hide it. Your head fell back, exposing your throat to him in a sign of instinctual submission, even though you knew he wouldn’t kiss you. You didn’t mind, you just needed more, more than this teasing touch, more than the faint brush of his fingertips. Your chest shuddered, knuckles white as you gripped the counter in an effort to stay still, “Lori…” You whined his name, hoping it would spark something in him, would force him to do something. 

You felt him shudder again, felt his hips draw back from your body like he was trying to hide just what these noises did to him. 

Fuck. 

It burned you, turned your belly molten and the power that washed over you was heady. You had turned him on just from your hair, your skin and your moans. 

The voice that came out was equally as tight, husky and you might have lived and died inside the low baritone “What is it, princess?”

Your fingers curled around the side of the counter in front of you, and you were glad he couldn’t see your face when you whispered, “Please..”. Your voice was low, pleading and aching. 

You felt him shudder behind you, a tiny groan echoing through the helmet.

His next words nearly undid you there and then, “Like I could say no to you.”

Then his fingers pressed into your spine, caressing down your back over the tattoo with such admiration, such warmth that it arched slightly, chasing more of that sensation. 

Your head was spinning, convinced you were dreaming, that this wasn’t real. 

This didn’t happen between you both. 

You flirted, sure. But that was harmless, playful. 

This… this was real. He was letting you feel his bare skin, uncovered and unhidden. 

And it was tearing you apart. 

The scrape of his thumbnail on your skin tore you from those thoughts, ripped you back to the present as it ran down the curve of your back. If your eyes had been open, they would have rolled into the back of your head. 

Your head fell forward, back arching completely into him and the sound that you let out was sinful. You could only concentrate on the that sharp, pleasurable hurt that you felt in your belly, the feeling of his other hand as it held your shoulder, holding you in that arch. 

Heat pooled low in your belly, and every dream, every thought you’d been trying to suppress about him came blasting into full technicolour. All because of his hands. 

Those damn hands you’d been pining over since saving his life. 

His head was so close over your shoulder that you could hear the low pant of his breath, the coolness of his armour barely brushing your shoulders as you pressed back into him. 

Fuck, did he want this as much as you did? 

By the way his hand tightened, he had to. You didn’t know how you knew it, but you did. 

You swallowed, licking your lips to say something, anything, spur him on but a harsh beeping suddenly broke through the thick tension on the room. A light was flashing, and by the time the fog of pleasure cleared in your head, he was gone. 

Gloves picked up and yanked on, boots disappearing up the ladder into the cockpit to check on the autopilot. 

The taut sensation in your body snapped, making you sink to the floor as though the strings had been cut.

You lifted shaking hands to your face, burying them in them with a low noise. Your head was a mess, you couldn’t get over it. Couldn’t stop feeling his fingers on your back, your hair. Hear the ragged pant of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against your shoulders. 

It was just touch, just the simple act of touch but it had igniting something so fierce within you. 

Something had changed. 

What the fuck was that?

You sat there on the floor for Maker knows how long, before dragging yourself up and hurrying off in search of a very, very cold shower. 

~

You weren’t quite sure how to face him the next morning. 

You had taken your cold shower, and it had done nothing to cool the fire in your blood so you had to take the initiative, hoping the crash of the water and the fact you were biting down the back of your free hand would cover the desperate moans you made. 

Little did you know, the Mandalorian was going through the exact same thing, back arched, lips biting into his lip to stop the groans. 

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, stop thinking about what had occurred between you. 

Surely it broke some kind of rules of his Creed?

He had touched you with his bare skin. You weren’t married. You weren’t together. You didn’t even know his name. 

Yet he had touched you and.. reacted to you. 

Maybe that was just instinct, his body’s natural response to such things. 

But he had carried on… until you were disturbed anyway. 

Your head went round and round in these circles until your body had calmed down enough to sleep. 

…

You rose early, wanting to be washed, dressed and ready and doing something to occupy you before you had to think too much about what you were going to say.  Maybe just… Good morning?

Sure. Good morning was fine. 

Normal. 

It totally didn’t reveal what you’d had to do in the shower, or the thoughts you were still having about it. 

You had this discussion with yourself all the way up the ladder of the cockpit, and when you rose to your height, you blurted it out in a cheery voice before you could bail, “Morning!”

Breezy. Nailed it. 

The Mandalorian was sitting in the pilot’s chair, fiddling with controls and levers, gloves firmly on. “Good morning. Did you sleep okay in the heat?” 

You nodded, sinking down into the pilots chair and feeding Duru a treat, “Yes, thank you. Finally.” You stroked under Duru’s chin, your eyes straying to those hands as he slide them over some switches. 

The same hands that had cupped the back of your neck and trailed fire down your spine. 

A flush started to creep along your cheeks, so you quickly looked away, “Did you?”

The light bounced off of his helmet as he nodded, “Yes, thank you.”

Polite. His words were polite. Almost... distant. 

Okay… Okay, so maybe he just feels awkward?

You bit your bottom lip, worried if you should say something. 

No, leave it. He no doubt feels over-exposed and maybe shy about what happened last night. Don’t bring it up. Just act normal.

You nodded faintly to yourself and returned your attention back to Duru. 

~

Mando was ignoring you. 

You had been trying to deny it, but he most certainly was. 

Yesterday, he had engaged in talking to you now and then throughout the day, but only passing comments and a few spare words. 

You had spoken more when you were beating the shit out of each other. 

You kept telling yourself that it was just lingering awkwardness from how to go back to normal after that night, but the gnawing in your gut told you otherwise. 

It had been shouting at you this morning when he had parked the ship on a planet, announced he was going hunting and he’d be back in a few hours. 

Then he’d just gone. 

You had waited for him all day, mooched around the ship, played with Grogu and Duru and tried not to worry. 

You sat up for hours, even when the little ones had gone to sleep, waiting to talk to him. 

You’d convinced yourself that you should talk about. You should tell him you didn’t expect anything from him. That you didn’t hate him, that he didn’t hurt you or anything like that. 

Just to tell him whatever you needed to stop this frostiness. 

You had it all planned, had every phrase and comment worked out to stop this atmosphere. 

About 15 minutes ago, you’d heard the ramp open. 3 minutes after that, the hiss and echo of the carbonite chamber. 

Then you’d heard him go and check on the kid, then go to his quarters. 

And now, it was his booted feet on the steps to the cockpit that held your attention. 

You took a deep breath, prayed to the Maker and spun your seat to face him as he rose up. 

The mere sight of that beskar-clad body set your heart thumping, but you coaxed an easy smile on your lips anyway. “Hey, how was the hunt? Cause you any trouble?”

Mando didn’t turn his head to look at you, just padded over to his seat and spun it to the control panel, “It was fine. Easy.” His words were clipped, not harsh, just… efficient. Straight to the point. 

You swallowed, your courage faltering a little. 

Mentally, you scolded yourself. You didn’t falter in the face of a man who’d touched you and now wouldn’t talk to you. You didn’t whimper and pander to a tense atmosphere. 

You sat up a little straighter, pulling your shoulders back and you looked over at him. 

Now or never. 

“About the other night-”

“I’m taking you to Nevarro.”

What?

You had both spoken at the same time, your eyes now bewildered as you beheld him. “What?”

He said nothing, just fiddled with some controls. 

“Mando, what do you mean?” Your voice was shocked, but steady. Did nothing to betray the shock that had just hit your chest like a punch. 

You didn’t hear him swallow, only heard his words, “I’m taking you to Nevarro. We’re on the way now.” He said them softly, evenly. 

Hearing it again only made your heart drop to somewhere around your waist. 

He was leaving you. Dumping you on some planet. And going. 

Your hand tapped your leg as sort of nervous habit, and then the words were out, “Is this because of the other night?” 

It was his turn to sound bewildered, his head just turning to the side, but you knew he couldn’t see you in his peripheral, “What? What do you mean?” 

Your heart was starting to beat uncomfortably in your chest, a sense of shame beginning to creep over you, “Because of what happened in the kitchen. I didn’t see you, I didn’t see your skin.”

Mando turned to face you, one hand still on the panel, his hair half turned but head rotated all the way to look at you, “No, no it’s not because of that-“

You cut him off, “You didn’t… you didn’t offend me. Or hurt me. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry if.. if my reaction made you feel awkward or think something. I don’t.. I don’t expect anything from you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I never have, so please don’t think that.” You flushed, the shame colouring your cheeks. You couldn’t help it. But this was the reason, right? The only reason why he would be dumping you. 

He shook his head, “Stop. Stop..” His voice softened slightly, “No. It’s not because of… that. I know you didn’t see me. And I know you don’t expect anything from me.” He took a breath, “I’m taking you to Nevarro to keep you safe. That’s all. I have friends there, Cara Dune and Greef Karga. They’ll look after you. They’ve already set up accommodation for you, so you don’t need to worry about that. 

They already knew? 

Something like hurt flashed in your eyes, colouring your tone, “They… You already planned this..?” There was no bite in your voice like you would normally have in this situation, you were too shocked by the sudden change in direction your journey was taking. 

Mando tilted his head, “I contacted them whilst I was on the hunt… I wanted it set up before we got there, so you wouldn’t stand out to anyone looking.” He still looked at you, “Is that okay?”

You sensed you wouldn’t have a choice in this. So you decided to take the high road. You wouldn’t whine about this. 

You smoothed your expression over into a mask of calm, “Yes… I was just a little surprised that’s all. But thank you, really. I’ll… set about packing my things.”

He sounded confused, his head tilting back to watch you rise from your chair, “We have a couple of days yet.”

You nodded, “Oh, I know, I just want to make sure I have everything. And all the things I want to steal from you.” You laughed, even going so far as to nudge his shoulder before escaping. 

You were gone to quickly, so you wouldn’t have seen the way he slumped in his chair, dropped his head into his hands. You wouldn’t have heard the pained sigh that escaped his lips at the thought have having to part with you. 

~

~

~

The Mandalorian stood at the top of the ramp with you, staring out across the dusty, volcanic terrain of Nevarro. Your new home for… however long. 

You said nothing, running your fingers along the edge of your cloak, observing the landscape and trying not to let any emotion show on your face. You had kept up natural conversation the past few days. Saying nothing of the wrenching pain that tore in your chest every time you remembered you were departing. 

Mando cleared his throat, one arm holding Grogu and the other hand resting on his hip in a gesture that was becoming painfully familiar, “Cara and Greef know you’re coming. They’ll be waiting in Cara’s office for you.” 

Grogu was sulking, squirming every now and then to try and get out of Mando’s grip. He had screamed the whole morning, and only calmed down when you hugged him and sung to him on the way here. 

You nodded, also trying to ignore the thoughts swirling round in your mind as to why he was leaving you here. Was it because of your argument? The way you had broken down in front of him? Or was it because of the other night? The way his fingers had run through your hair, and then trailed down your spine, mapping your tattoo. His bare fingers. The things he’d whispered to you, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-”

“I’ve been thinking about this for days..”

Had he known then that he was going to leave you here? Or was it after that, that he’d decided he had broken one too many rules and had to get rid of you. 

Words floated over to you, and you realised he was talking again so you hauled your attention back to the conversation at hand. 

“-safe here. No one will come looking for you. Greef has taken all the pucks that have come through with your name on them and Cara will do sweeps every couple of days to make sure.”

You looked down at your feet, a bitter feeling leeching through your veins that was getting stronger with every moment you got closer to leaving the Crest. 

“Hey… look at me..” 

It was that honey softness of the Mandalorian’s tone that finally had you looking up at him, your expression perfectly masked to hide every ounce of emotion in you aside from a calm neutrality. 

He tilted his head a little, turning his body toward you, “Please don’t think I’m dumping you here. I had planned to bring you here since I destroyed the puck and the fob.”

Like that made you feel any better. 

He must have read the flicker in your eyes, because he stepped closer, his hand lifting to your upper arm, “I want you to be safe.” You could almost feel his eyes boring into yours, “I am more than grateful for everything you’ve done for me. And the kid. More than you’ll ever know. But, travelling with me.. it only increases the target on your back. People know you’re with me. I don’t want that for you.. you deserve to be free..”

And what about what I want?

You only smiled, forcing your expression to one of a lighter one and you nudged him gently, “Hey, I get it. You have to get rid of me because I’m showing you up on hunts. Can’t have anyone destroying your infamous reputation.” You rolled your eyes, laughing even if it did send daggers into your heart. 

And his. 

He squeezed your shoulder playfully, then dropped his hand. “You’re hilarious. I told you, the day you beat me is the day the stars implode.” You could feel a line of humour in his voice though, and it softened your shoulders, made you relax. 

He was doing this to keep you safe. He had planned this for weeks so you could have a break, a chance to rest. 

So, you lifted your head a little higher, your smile becoming more real. “Thank you, Mando. For everything. I can’t ever repay you for this, for what you’ve done.” You motioned to the outside. 

He nodded, his hand resting at his sides again now, “We’ll call it even.” His head remained focused on you, lingering on you and then he reached into a pouch and held out his free hand, “Here.”

You let him drop the objects in your hand, a small stack of credits. 

“It’s not much, I know, but it’ll be enough to get you some food and supplies you need. You don’t need to worry about a place to stay, Cara will show you but… You can get what you want and need.” He withdrew his hand slowly, almost reluctantly.  

You swallowed, closing your hand around the credits and you slipped them into the pocket inside your cloak. “Thank you..”

The Mandalorian merely nodded again, leaning back against the threshold of the ramp, his thumb absently rubbing circles on Grogu’s belly.  

It seemed that there was nothing else to draw this goodbye out, so you took a breath, straightening your cloak. “Well… I guess I’ll say goodbye then.” You looked up at him, then stuck out your hand for his, realising only a few seconds later how dumb that was. 

Before you could pull your hand back, he reached out and clasped your hand in his own, wrapping his fingers around your distinctly smaller hand. “Goodbye… princess.” You heard the smirk in his voice, and you couldn’t help the chuckle and the eye roll again, not failing to notice the way his hand tightened involuntarily and then withdrew. 

You looked at Grogu in his other arm, who was still avoiding looking at the pair of you, wriggling in his father’s arms. You bent down to draw your face to his level and you stroked his ears, “I’ll miss you, little guy. Make sure to keep your dad on his toes, okay? You gotta make up for both of us now.” You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, feeling his little hand pat your cheek with a mournful noise. Tears burned the back of your eyes, so you leant back, instead picking up Duru so she could say goodbye. 

Grogu cooed sadly again, stroking Duru’s cheek, looking up at her with his glossy eyes. 

You let Duru but her head against him, chitter a goodbye and then you stepped back, allowing her to climb up your shoulders as you looked up at Mando. 

You just watched him for a moment, his armour reflecting the light on one side and then, with a soft inhale of courage, you turned and walked down the ramp, Duru padding at your feet. 

You had only just cleared the ramp, stepping onto the hard, compacted ground when Mando called out, “Wait.”

You turned quickly, hope blooming in your heart, in your expression though you tried to stop it. 

He had made a step onto the ramp, body poised like it was trying to run to you but he was holding back. He hesitated, almost as if he were torn with what to say – or what not to say, but all that came out was, “Ret'urcye mhi.”

You couldn’t help the shiver that licked down your spine, the way his voice turned into dripping honey when he spoke Mando’a. “What does that mean..?” You prayed he couldn’t hear the slight hoarseness to your tone.

He tilted his head down to look at Grogu, then lifted it back up to you, “It means goodbye…. And maybe we’ll meet again..” 

Your heart swelled a little, a flush of pain going through it but you smiled softer, your expression melting and you inclined your head slightly, “I would like that.. very much…” 

There were a million other things that threatened to roll off your tongue, pour from you but before they could, you turned around, walking toward the town and feeling his eyes on you the entire time, burning into the back of your head like a fiery brand. 

You were about 4 metres away when you heard Grogu start crying, when your own tears broke through and spilled down your cheeks. You kept walking, even when your vision began to blur and go fuzzy.

So you didn’t see the way Mando hugged Grogu closer, whispered, “I know, kid, I don’t want her to go either.”

You’d be okay. It would be fine. 

So you and the Mandalorian were parting. It was no big deal. You had helped each other; you had returned each other’s debts. You owed each other nothing. 

The sound of engines whirring filtered into your ears, and you waited until you heard the Crest lift from the ground before turning round. 

You paused, wiping your cheeks as the ship that had become a haven of sorts lifted into the sky. It hovered for a second, as if hesitating and then shot up higher, taking with it the two people that you had come to mean more to you than you realised. It felt like the Razor Crest had taken your heart with it. 

How comes you hadn’t realised before how much they meant?

Too late now.

You remained watching the sky, long after the ship had vanished into the atmosphere. 

With a shuddering breath, you wiped your cheeks. You kissed Duru’s tail, and then returned to walking toward the town. 

You’d be okay… right?

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[renegadewangs]

Van Zieks - the Examination, part 6

Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).

Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I’m outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I’ve missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly. -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I’m using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what’s said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn’t matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

And here we have the second half of The Unspeakable Story, because the case was so long I had to split it into two.

Episode 5: The Unspeakable Story – Part 2

When we last left off, Gina was allowed to testify about the omnibus murder two months ago. Sure enough, she talks about what really happened and how she was threatened into lying in court of law. The judge realizes that he made a grave error in letting McGilded walk. Again, I'm not sure why he's only realizing this now when that trial ended in disarray, with the entire gallery shouting about whether it was or wasn't a gross miscarriage of justice.

I'm giving Van Zieks an additional scumbag point for this remark, since Ryu had already admitted to his wrongdoing and, despite Van Zieks's repeated warnings of 'are you sure about this', brought the details of the falsified testimony up himself. Don't pretend to be understanding about the position this puts Ryu in if you're going to be a jerk about it afterwards, Van Zieks.

Some shenanigans and Gregson whispering to Graydon later, Scotland Yard returns with the small box! Turns out it's a music box! When suggested that the court should listen to the music on the disc, Gregson interjects and unconvincingly claims the music box and disc are unrelated to the case. Ryu objects to say that the disc is fundamentally important for understanding the motives of the crime and Van Zieks, on his own accord, chimes in that the prosecution has no objections. When Gregson continues to stammer that the disc is police property, Van Zieks says:

“But it is policy of this prosecutor to leave no avenues unexplored. And you, Inspector, have no jurisdiction here to prevent that from happening.”

So Gregson and Van Zieks are definitely not buddies. Since Gregson is a key player in this case (and I mean that in a negative way, since Gregson is actively hiding important knowledge from the court), the fact that Van Zieks is turning a deaf ear to his pleas does in fact make Van Zieks an accomplice of ours in a roundabout way. Only for this particular context, though. The point is, so long as the prosecution continues to agree with the defense about unveiling key pieces of evidence, Van Zieks is helping Ryu achieve his ultimate goal. Also it's just plain fun to watch Gregson panic. We're having a jolly old time in this courtroom!

Unfortunately, when the box is played, there's no music. It's just weird tones. So Ryu is confronted with the question of whether the music box's sounds are relevant to the case or not. Naturally, I chose that they aren't relevant to see what would happen. I don't know why I expected any different than this:

“When you speak, you must mean what you say. ...Or be prepared to suffer the consequences.”

Penalty from Van Zieks! He's right though, I never learn. Okay, so let's say the tones are relevant. Van Zieks jumps onto that like a cat pouncing on a mouse toy, of course. He wants to know just what that relevance is. Ryu says that the chimes aren't necessarily music, and Van Zieks pursues relentlessly. “Well, now that you've told us what they are not, I'm sure the court would like to hear what they are. Do enlighten us, my Nipponese friend.” This is all very standard fare, of course. In any Ace Attorney game, the player has to outline their reasoning in steps, which means the prosecution and/or the judge will continue to ask for elaboration until all the details are out in the open. Of course, Van Zieks has to be a jerk about it as he follows it up with the words “Surely you have an idea in mind? Because if not... It will be the death of your ill-formed argument!” Eesh. Harsh wording for such a simple concept of 'your argument is void if you don't tell us exactly what you mean'. What's bothersome about these moments is that often, the player already has an exact idea in mind, but the game's dialogue will beat around the bush a bit more and really rub it in. (example: Iris telling Ryu at this very moment that the music box isn't broken at all and it's meant to play these particular chimes.) But because the player isn't given the option to just figure this out for themselves and then gets scolded by the prosecution for 'taking too long', naturally the player may get frustrated.

I'm getting there! SHEESH! It's not my fault Iris is distracting me! I had the evidence ready to present like two minutes ago!

Anyway, Ryu finally links the chimes to government messages being intercepted and leaked to other countries. These messages are usually telegraphed in morse code, so it should be obvious where Ryu's going with this. Van Zieks looks horrified at the notion of the disc containing secrets in morse code. Still, alongside Ryu he works through the logic of what happened and how McGilded would've been involved in this. Graydon, who works at a telegraph office, is of course the prime suspect for intercepting those secrets and that's the reason why he broke into the pawn shop to recover the disc. Graydon is outraged by the accusation, saying “I've had to stand here in silence while that pretentious foreign lawyer has been prattling away!”, but Van Zieks cuts him off with an objection.

“The prosecution demands the witness testifies... in response to the accusations brought by the defense!”

It's Mrs. Garrideb all over again! Yes! So just to reiterate, the prosecution has nothing to gain by doing this, the way I see it. Ryu can't actively prove any of his theories, he's got no hard evidence. The only thing Ryu can do at this point is have Graydon testify and hope that he'll slip up; and Van Zieks is supporting this notion instead of demanding to see this currently non-existent evidence. So Graydon testifies, the topic of morse code comes up again, and we get a lesson in the basics of how it works with the dots and the dashes.

Surely it can't be that a prosecutor in an Ace Attorney game is being passive aggressive again? Anyway, turns out the music box doesn't play morse code at all because instead of dots and dashes, there's only one of the two. The testimony continues on to address that Graydon's last name used to be Milverton, a fact which causes Graydon to react very heavily and attempt to deny it. Van Zieks subtly reminds him that this effort is futile, since Graydon is a communications officer attached to civil service. His personal details would've been thoroughly checked when he was appointed to his position.

I enjoy it when Van Zieks finally gets turned around to point his sharp finger and sharp words towards people who actually deserve it. Yes, he's ferocious and a somewhat horrible person, but Graydon had this coming for being, y'know, a literal murderer who tried to frame a teenage girl. Van Zieks even reminds Graydon of the same sentiment (“it would really take no time at all for the court to subpoena those records”) later when Graydon continues to deny that Mason Milverton was his father. Good boy, Van Zieks. You're learning that not all British citizens are upstanding and it's okay to accuse some of them of wrongdoing. Because remember, in earlier trials when Ryu would indirectly accuse witnesses (or juror no 4) of lying or criminal activity, Van Zieks would overreact with an “HOW DARE YOU, SIR” of sorts. But not this time, oh no. How dared Graydon?

So with the relation between Graydon and the victim of the omnibus murder proven, we've made headway, but still not enough. So long as the music box chimes seem irrelevant, we don't have the full story to pin Graydon down for anything. For this reason, Ryu gets back on that topic and insists it's very much possible for the disc to contain secret messages. Van Zieks is still not quite convinced.

Covering his insecurities with fancy speech, I see. Van Zieks can act as smart as he wants, but the brutal truth of the matter will always be that he's not smart enough to take evidence in his own two hands and flip it over or open it up. Ryu's the only one who takes the practical approach, opens the bottom and finds out that the music box can actually play two discs at the same time. One for dots and one for dashes, which means there's a second disc out there. So with this out in the open, it's time for everyone's favorite type of Ace Attorney tennis: The back and forth truth reveal! Ryu and Van Zieks take turns in detailing the chronology of Graydon's illegal dealings with McGilded, with negotiations apparently turning sour in the omnibus two months ago, and thus the brickmaker met his end. McGilded attempted to hide the stolen disc by sticking it in his coat and pawning it at the pawnshop, but Graydon found out about this, etc. We've all played the case, we all know the story.

Graydon ultimately admits to having been at the crime scene that night, but still refuses to admit he worked with McGilded or stole government secrets. (Okay okay, ALBA, your denial is too powerful to let this game end, have it your way.) Ryu surmises that only Graydon could have shot Windibank, as he would've been the third intruder holding a third gun. Graydon flips this logic around; now that he's admitted he was at the crime scene that night, he can also admit to 'what he saw' as a 'key witness'. He claims that he saw the moment Windibank was shot by the pickpocket and he took the third gun afterwards, and he's ready to testify about it. Van Zieks, who should technically be jumping at the opportunity to hear decisive testimony for his precious guilty verdict, is instead not amused at all.

“If it is shown that your claim is false, you will have incriminated yourself as the killer.”

And these are some very telling lines once again. Why would he warn Graydon about this if he didn't have reason to believe those claims would be proven false? Why would he think Graydon could incriminate himself as the killer if he were 100% convinced that Gina is the culprit? He must know by now there's a strong chance that Gina is innocent and Graydon is the real killer. But sure enough, Graydon testifies about watching through a peephole and seeing blood spatter over the coat. Blood which he couldn't know is there unless he saw the murder happen. So the judge wonders whether the coat can be tested for blood and indeed, Van Zieks confirms that it can. A German scientist discovered that test 'very recently' and it's already being used in several courts around the globe because this test was actually, y'know, verified in the field of science.

“Ideas are no use to us here. In science, as in law, theories must be proven before they stand.” “We could shatter all vestiges of doubt within minutes!”

rip. To be clear, it doesn't seem as if Van Zieks actually knows for certain there's blood on the coat, because how could he? His insistence on the blood test doesn't seem to be motivated by hope of 'cornering Gina because the blood will definitely be there'. Rather, I think he just wants to either prove or disprove Graydon's testimony so we can all get on with our lives. Plus, I think he may want to flaunt these 'official methods' just to diss (S)Holmes's methods some more. While waiting for the results, Ryu is allowed to cross-examine the very suspicious peephole testimony. Despite Ryu being the one to press Graydon at every statement, Van Zieks will occasionally chime in with questions of his own to get some clarification. Which is funny, because the prosecution isn't the one who has to cross-examine witnesses. Van Zieks should technically be staying out of it. The fact that he's butting in to needle Graydon some more is just... I don't know, it's another one of those very telling moments, I suppose. Again, he probably already suspects that Graydon is the real killer.

The cross-examination is put on hold when the test results finally come back, confirming the blood on Gina's coat. Ryu still tries to save his case by saying the blood actually belonged to Mason Milverton, but that's obviously a very dangerous route to take.

“Did you not argue fervently for McGilded's innocence? And yet now that the man is dead... You brand him as a murderer? Your conduct shatters any shred of respect you may have earnt for yourself in this country!”

We all know he was a murderer for real. Van Zieks knows this more than anyone in the courtroom (well, except maybe Graydon). Besides, Gina testified about this like fifteen minutes earlier. To be frank, the fact that Ryu is admitting to this openly should actually warrant more respect as opposed to breaking it down. Because, remember, Van Zieks gave Ryu several options two months ago to blindly defend McGilded and instead of taking those opportunities, Ryu instead admitted he couldn't say for certain whether there was foul play happening. I think what's going on here may be that Van Zieks is emotionally conflicted. He was already buying into the theory that Gina is innocent and Graydon is the real killer, but the blood on the coat threw a wrench into it all. Graydon hypothetically could only have the coat knowledge if he'd seen it happen, which makes Gina the real killer after all. With something so conclusive, any belief he might've invested into Ryu's integrity has just been 'betrayed' and indeed, if Ryu's integrity is in doubt, anything else to come from him will also be relentlessly drawn into question. That doesn't just apply to Van Zieks; all the jury members who were on Ryu's side before immediately, unanimously vote guilty. Van Zieks assumes that there will be another Summation Examination, as has become the norm.

Ryu grows desperate, because changing the jury's minds is going to be exceptionally difficult now. Thankfully, our hero (S)Holmes appears! That mischievous scamp!

“Detective (derogatory)”. I think it would've been an interesting plotline if (S)Holmes actively investigated the Professor case back then, perhaps even at Van Zieks's request, and failed to find the killer in time to prevent Klint's death. That would explain why Barok now thinks so badly of (S)Holmes and the amazing detective he's described as in the novels. Unfortunately, the second game never really addresses whether (S)Holmes played a part in the Professor investigation and if so, why it ultimately came down Genshin's duel and Gregson forging evidence to 'close the case'. You'd think that if (S)Holmes investigated the deaths, he and his partner would've tracked down the real killer long before things could escalate that badly.

Anyway, (S)Holmes asks for five minutes of the court's time to pass some evidence on to the defense. Van Zieks begins by saying that the trial has already taken up many hours of the court's time. So 'having spent that long already...' Gregson cuts him off to agree, saying that since they've spent so long already, they don't want to waste even more time. Unfortunately for him, that's not what Van Zieks was about to say at all.

So he's fully on our side again! Hurray! All well and good, but he does still fling one of his chalices later to signify the five minutes are up. (S)Holmes thanks Van Zieks for allowing the brief recess, the reply being that he needs no thanks, since “the die is cast”. In other words, they've already reached a point of no return here. At first this seems like a very cryptic dismissal of gratitude, but what Van Zieks is actually saying is that the jurors have already made up their minds and settled on guilty. “Any attempt to alter the verdict now would be utterly futile.” Which still doesn't say much about whether Van Zieks believes they're headed in the right direction, it only says that he doesn't believe Ryu can convince them to change their minds this time.

Surprise! Ryu doesn't have to! When (S)Holmes came into the room in disguise to deliver the lab results of the coat, the cross-examination of Graydon was actually suspended. This means that, by law, Ryu has the right to continue that cross-examination instead of turning to the jurors for the Summation Examination. Van Zieks suffers through his damage animation (which has been rarely seen by this point in the game and honestly, it's a delight to watch), calling the whole matter absurd. This is the law, Ziekie boy! Deal with it! So with this final chance granted, Ryu presents the catflap device to debunk Graydon's testimony about the peephole. Susato tampered with the crime scene and made that cat flap mere minutes after Windibank was shot. So if the cat flap wasn't there before, how could Graydon possibly have witnesses what he claims to have witnessed?

Oh, he's thrown off now. He's got no idea what to believe anymore. I can't blame him; who would expect a trial to take a turn like this? We're getting close, but Van Zieks has one more obstacle to throw our way, as all prosecutors do. How can we prove that the peephole flap was made after the crime as opposed to before it? “When was the peephole cut? The prosecution demands proof of your answer!” Again, this is par for the course. This is what any prosecutor would demand. Evidence is law in Ace Attorney world and Van Zieks needs tangible proof that Ryu isn't just a 'lying traitor' like Genshin was. Naturally, we have proof and Van Zieks is the one we have to thank for that.

Considering Van Zieks is the one who showed up to court that day with a big stack of photographs from that very same 'infernal camera', this line will never stop cracking me up.  So now we know for sure the peephole was made after Windibank was shot! Unfortunately, in submitting evidence we now also know one other thing.

To be fair, Susato didn't know it was a legit murder scene until the cat flap was created and they could see the body. Up until that point, it was just a scene for breaking-and-entering, along with (S)Holmes shooting. I'm sure that was taken into account when discussing the punishment later on, though. Anyway, we've proven Graydon's perjury, but Van Zieks insists we still haven't quite proven that he's a killer. Luckily, Ryu's already two steps ahead of Van Zieks here. Since we've proven that Graydon was lying about what he saw, the question is now how he knows about these things to begin with. He couldn't possibly have seen the peephole with his own eyes, so how did he know it was there? And how did he know about the blood on the coat? Gregson once again decides to interject, asking Van Zieks for 'a word, please'. He wants to leave the courtroom and return to the station to put in his report.

“You will remain exactly where you are until this trial concludes.”

Heeheeh. Brutal. So with Gregson forced to stay, Ryu is free to insinuate that information about the crime scene must've been leaked to Graydon. And since Graydon had no idea he'd be summoned to court to testify on the murder, he could only have received the information after arriving at the Old Bailey. The only person with the opportunity to pass that information to him (in the middle of a trial, I might add) was Gregson. Gregson immediately barks that he had no reason to leak information about the investigation to someone like Graydon, but we know that's not true. Ryu suggests there was a deal.

I really enjoy this particular expression on Van Zieks, and it fits especially well in this context. While he usually looks very calm and cold on the surface, he now looks outwardly ferocious, slightly unhinged. Perhaps even in pain. This is the face of betrayal and humiliation. We learn in the second game that Van Zieks had already suspected Gregson of having dirty hands when it comes to the Reaper, so I expect this insinuation hits extra hard now. It's confirming to Van Zieks that Gregson is indeed not above dirty tactics. He doesn't take it lightly, of course. “With the stakes so high, the prosecution is not prepared to listen to baseless charges. It is incumbent on the defense now to present evidence in support of this diabolical claim.”

So let's do it. It all comes down to the music box disc and the stolen government secrets, of course. Gregson admits that he was ordered to retrieve the stolen information and do it “on the q.t.” Top secret mission, this one, though earlier on it was implied to have been ordered by Stronghart. Van Zieks concludes that Gregson objected so heavily to the disc being used as evidence because he knew of the information on it. Gregson replies that he realized there was a possibility of it. Since we know the music box plays two discs, the deal must've involved this second disc. Van Zieks is now thinking ahead very quickly, here. He asserts that since Gregson is a Scotland Yard detective, he would've approached this deal with extreme caution and not simply taken Graydon's word for it. He would have asked for the article in question to be handed to him immediately and so, it stands to reason the second disc is in the courtroom at that very moment. Gregson doesn't take lightly to the accusations and when Ryu suggests a cavity- sorry, I mean body search, Gregson agrees to it without so much as a flinch. Suspicious behavior, to say the least. But this means the body search is allowed and everything rests on the outcome.

“If, following the search of the inspector's personal effects, no disk is found... You will be deemed unfit for court service, this trial will end and my country's government will formally demand of yours that you are severely reprimanded.”

But Van Zieks, if Ryu were deemed unfit for court service, who would you face in hectic turnabout trials? He's your one true nemesis now, remember? The judge agrees with Van Zieks's sentiments, but Iris has some very interesting insight: “You're just threatening Runo because you're scared!” Since Iris is one of the most clever characters in the games, we have to examine this statement further. If he's scared, then what's he scared of? My guess would be the firm, undeniable confirmation that Gregson is willing to screw with a fair trial and let a killer walk free. Yes, he was ordered to do this by his superiors (STRONGHART), but it doesn't change that Gregson is throwing an innocent girl under the omnibus to get what he wants. And again, keep this in mind, Van Zieks already held suspicions that Gregson had something to do with the Reaper curse. But they were friends once; Gregson was Klint's friend. There's a difference between suspecting an old buddy of being up to no good and hard evidence that it's true. What adds credence to this being the reason of Van Zieks's fear is one of the game's recurring themes: You mustn't look away from the truth, no matter how blinding it is. No matter how painful, it needs to be acknowledged.

So the game asks whether Ryu still insists on the search, knowing there'll be grave consequences if nothing is found. By this point I was so tired that I didn't choose any of the other options and went straight for the correct answer: Search someone else! Gregson's being so cool about it that we can already surmise he doesn't have the disc on him, but he did have the perfect opportunity to hide it on the taller Skulkin brother earlier in the trial. So Ryu insists on there being a search, and Van Zieks says:

“But your typical Nipponese stubbornness may well land you in hot water this time. Perhaps the lesson will do you some good.”

This sort of implies to me that Van Zieks has also realized the disc isn't on Gregson's person. He's known the guy for a very long time, and so, he'd also know that Gregson is easily flustered with zero poker face skills. There's no way he could look so cool if there was a chance of the disc being found in his pocket. So this is the point where Ryu reveals that he doesn't want the search done on Gregson, which does succeed in ruffling our dear old inspector. Gregson starts accusing Ryu of having lost his mind and the court shouldn't have to put up with this nonsense, with the gallery also erupting into chatter. Iris snaps and tells everyone to be quiet. Ryu's just doing what he was told to do and having the courage of his convictions, so they should all respect that and listen to what he has to say. The judge admits that the court is in awe of the defense's convictions and I could write an entirely different essay here about Ryunosuke's growth throughout the games, but I won't. Point is, the cavity- sorry, I mean body search of Nash Skulkin is allowed. Gregson absolutey has zero poker face without a doubt, as he tries to object to the search in the name of Scotland Yard.

“In this courtroom, only the prosecution and the defence have the authority to object.”

Gregson tries to sputter his way out of this, but Van Zieks says: “I have no idea what forces are in play that might influence your actions, but personally I have no intention of obstructing the course of this trial.” (Gregson literally said that Van Zieks needed “Stronghart's paw print” to get more details on the top-secret investigation into McGilded's shady activities, but sure. No idea what forces are in play. Okay.)

Pin 'im down and use the rubber glove, bailiff! The missing second music box disc is pulled out of Nash's jacket and Ryu explains why he knew it'd be found there.

Uhhhhhhhhhh. I think what Ryu's trying to say is that Gregson would rarely fly into such a rage that he'd assault someone physically, but... This man absolutely loses his composure all the dang time. Just ask the fish n chips he keeps aggressively chomping down or scattering over his shoulder. He doesn't strike me as a composed character at all, so to say he behaved “extremely out of character” is kind of off to me. But whatever, it proved our point so I'll let it slide. When the judge asks why Gregson didn't just submit the second disc as evidence the second he got his hands on it, Van Zieks surmises that if the information on the disc were revealed in court, it'd be problematic. Gregson once again confirms he's working under direct orders from the ministry (STRONGHART) to keep the stolen info on the down low. But now we've got a problem. Neither Graydon nor Gregson will admit that they made a deal for the disc (it just magically appeared in Gregson's possession then, sure) and so long as they don't admit to that deal, we still can't prove Graydon lied about his testimony in regards to Gina being the shooter. The judge is ready to turn the matter over to the jury for their final learnings, and if these people had any common sense they'd all vote not-guilty because Graydon is getting away with his nonsense through a sheer technicality. Even so, Ryu intends to put the squeeze on Gregson by playing the second disc along with the first to determine whether there's truly morse code involved. Either Gregson admits to unlawful dealings with a witness to protect state secrets, or those state secrets get played out loud for everyone to hear. Gregson warns him he'll be making an enemy of the entire British government if he lets those secrets out into the world. Ryu insists he'll stop at nothing to do his job and protect his client, no matter who he makes an enemy out of. Van Zieks pours himself another glass of wine in silence.

Yeah, a real shrewd, calculating man. Uhuh. Again, I want to take a second here to point to the symbiosis we usually have between prosecutor and lead detective. Even in the case of Fulbright and Blackquill, with their unique circumstances, they still worked in tandem. You'd never catch them bickering about whether or not to present a certain piece of evidence. It's fascinating to watch Van Zieks consistently ignore Gregson's pleas. Speaking of which, let's have a leg slam to shut Gregson up.

“I'm a prosecutor. ...I'm no Scotland Yard puppet. In this courtroom, my duty is to the law. So let me propose a toast. To uncovering the truth... by fair means or foul.”

YOOO!!! Get him, Zieks! There's absolutely no denying now that Van Zieks is 100% on Ryu's side. He knows that playing the secret message will cause Gregson to cave and admit to his shady deal. And once we know for certain Graydon's testimony is one huge sham... Well, as Van Zieks already said earlier, Graydon will be incriminated as the real killer.

So the box plays for about ten seconds with actual morse code this time and Gregson cracks like cheap porcelain. When Ryu confronts him with how this dealing would lead to the defendant being wrongfully accused of murder, Gregson just kind of shrugs it off. On its own, you might be thinking Gregson is a scummy asshole for this, but there's some very important factors to keep in mind here from the second game. First of all, very simply, Stronghart ordered Gregson to retrieve the info 'no matter what' and Gregson isn't in any position to refuse at this point. But then there's the Reaper's curse, which is way more important. Even if Gina were found not guilty, she'd still have to die. Not just die; Gregson would have to arrange for her death. I doubt he enjoys being in that position, so it's easier for him to just willfully sabotage the trial and have Gina be executed by the government. Some of the blood would still be on his hands, but at least he wouldn't have had to orchestrate some elaborate death trap himself, leading to all the blood on his hands. (Cool justification, still second-hand murder.)

Uh, wait, this is a Van Zieks essay, not a Gregson essay. So anyway, after Gregson gets choked by Graydon and nobody steps in to help him, we finally get the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Graydon has a semi tragic backstory and he was the one who cause the omnibus fire.

I guess Graydon wasn't too familiar with the Reaper's curse. Either that, or he didn't believe it was real. So now, to reiterate, we're told several times that anyone prosecuted by Van Zieks is doomed, but only one of the defendants Ryu's had so far has died a tragic death and it wasn't even because of the Reaper's curse. It was because someone else sought revenge, so even if Van Zieks hadn't been the prosecutor, McGilded still would've died. Graydon then goes on to talk about what happened in the pawnbrokery and how he shot Windibank without even thinking about it. Van Zieks has something to say about this.

“A man who used his wealth and influence to distort the facts and escape justice for the crime of murder. What tragic irony... For what you have done... is exactly the same. You've become the very monster you saw, and despised so deeply, in McGilded.”

I feel like this is even more elaborate setup to the fact that Van Zieks's brother, a wealthy and influential man, was actually a mass murderer. For bonus points: 'someone realized the wealthy man was a murderer, knew he wouldn't be confronted with his crimes and therefore took matters into his own hands with vigilante justice'. Does that sound familiar too? Gosh, I love foreshadowing. The judge tells Gregson he'll have to face charges as well, with Van Zieks chiming in that even if it was in the line of duty, Gregson's crime is a serious and inexcusable one. With that, the attention is turned to the defense. The judge says that the morse code thing was an unexpected revelation (and this is said in a complimenting sort of way), with Van Zieks unable to stay silent on this:

“In fact, I think we should applaud my learned friend's courage here today. I propose a toast. To demanding that government secrets be disseminated before the entire courtroom!”

Hee hee... Well, Gregson did warn him beforehand that he'd be making an enemy of the British government if he played those music discs. Ryu becomes very flustered and apologizes, but the telegraph juror interjects here to say that the dots and dashes weren't really morse code. Rather, it was just gibberish to her. So despite Iris looking thoughtful, it seems we didn't spill any beans after all and the matter is dropped. We move on to our verdict, a unanimous not-guilty for Gina Lestrade. Hurray!

Now there's a very clumsy scene transition of Ryu and Van Zieks standing in the abandoned courtroom, facing one another. I suppose Van Zieks made some sort of gesture for Ryu to hang back so they could speak in private? It's odd for them to still be standing behind their respective benches, though. Since court's dismissed, it'd be easy for them to just walk up to one another instead of shouting across an empty room. It may be symbolism that there's still a gaping void between the two of them; the Professor incident. Or maybe I'm giving the game too much credit there and they just couldn't be bothered to animate new backgrounds for this single scene. So here we have a very important conversation. I'll type it out:

“I must say you've surprised me, my Far Eastern friend. Despite being a Nipponese, you saw through the pretence to the malice that festered within that Englishman. And at the same time, you saw through the grime to the surprising heart of your English client. You have a curious talent for judging character, especially considering our very different cultures.”

So here we have a telltale problem with racial prejudice. Van Zieks assumed that because Ryu has a different background, especially culturally, he wouldn't be able to understand or relate to English citizens. We've seen this sentiment before in case 1-4, where Van Zieks is shocked that Ryu would understand the mind of an English policeman. Ryu says that he doesn't think there's anything curious about it at all, because whether people are from Britain or from Japan, they're all human beings. They're not so different on the inside. Ryu is effectively saying that Van Zieks needs to stop categorizing people based on their nationality because that doesn't work. Human beings are human beings; some of them are good and some of them are bad. Van Zieks doesn't directly reply to this, instead confirming what we already suspected.

“You know, I took this case for one very simple reason. To lock swords with you once again here in the courtroom. When I encountered you for the first time two months ago, it reminded me... of toasting friendship and trust with another Nipponese... only to find my trust betrayed. Through you, I hoped to look into the eyes of the man I once knew... and try to understand.”

So remember in the previous essay when I surmised that the torrid look of hatred in Van Zieks's eyes was directed at someone who died ten years ago? Well, it's confirmed here. Van Zieks didn't see a fresh newbie whenever he looked at Ryu; he saw Genshin Asogi. The betrayal which took place ten years ago was never given closure. Sure, Van Zieks managed to send Asogi to the gallows to exact 'justice' and get some form of payback, but he was never given Asogi's motives. He never got to confront this man with the emotional turmoil or the hurt, because he wouldn't have been given the opportunity to do so and even if he'd tried, he wouldn't have gotten satisfactory responses. Asogi was abruptly executed and Van Zieks never learned just what possessed a dear friend to murder his brother. He was left with boiling hatred, grief and a whole lot of questions. So indeed, now he hoped to 'understand' Asogi through Ryu, but that was never an option to begin with. Ryu has no relation to that man, so Van Zieks might as well have tried to grasp that understanding by 'locking swords' with Beppo. It's about the same level of futility. Van Zieks's misguided attacks appear to be born from the assumption that it must've been a cultural thing; that perhaps betrayal is something which comes naturally to people from Japan. It's an incredibly stupid, naive way of thinking, because by simplifying Genshin's motives down to his race and cultural upbringing, it takes away the option that there's a far darker truth to be found. Quite frankly, I think Van Zieks is afraid of that truth, just as he was afraid of confirmation that Gregson's not above dirtying his hands. To affirm that Genshin Asogi's friendship was genuine and he truly was an honorable man would imply that he'd had a reason to take Klint's life. I'm not saying it was a good reason! I'm just saying... a reason. When Ryu asks for more details on what happened back then, Van Zieks won't reply.

“Coming to be known as the Reaper of the Bailey, and my retirement from service five years ago... It gives me cause to wonder if our meeting has some deeper purpose. So... Farewell, my learned Nipponese fellow. Until we meet again.”

(He crushes another chalice in the process of saying this, because of course.) The deeper purpose alluded to here, along with the earlier line that Ryu may one day learn the answer, can only mean that Van Zieks foresees something of a journey here. A path to walk down together with Ryu in which, eventually, the Professor case will once again surface. Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing for Van Zieks, we don't know. I'm not sure he knows. But he did admit to having been pleasantly surprised by Ryu and he had a civil conversation with him just now, so the sentiment here is that Van Zieks is slowly letting go of some of his earlier grudges. He doesn't outright admit that he was wrong to be a scumbag to Ryu, nor does he apologize, but by admitting he was only attacking Ryu to make sense of something that happened in his past, he's basically admitting to his behavior being irrational. He's softened up a little, and with a second game on the way, it means at the very least the option of further character development is there.

The conversation ends and in the defendant lobby, Gina is reminded she's not in the clear yet. There's the curse, after all. Gina's not afraid, because he say she sees it, “the Reaper is a bit like Him upstairs.” Sort of funny to equate the Reaper to God, but what she's basically talking about is karmic retribution. Rotten coves like McGilded get what's coming to them, but she knows she's a good person deep down and so, she thinks she'll escape the curse just fine. Which doesn't say much about all those other victims who came before McGilded, mind. We can't say for certain they were all rotten too. Well, the second game will tell us whether she escapes with her life or not. And normally I would also take a look at the little 'bit' that characters have in the end credits, but Van Zieks didn't get his own bit for whatever reason. He's only briefly mentioned by Pat and Roly Beate, so that's it when it comes to his character in the first game.

Next up, we're moving on to case three of the second game, taking place six months after The Unspeakable Story!

[spookilyfingergunsoutofexistence]

How do you measure power?

Chapter 3 of ?

Read on ao3 here

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Tw: Breif mentions of past explosion, therapy, mentions of blood, mentions of death and decay, mentions of PTSD. (Let me know if I missed anything.)

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~

“So Patton. Let’s go over that day again, ok?” Emile leaned forward in their seat, eyes peering over their glasses as they watched the formally known to be bubbly man fidget on the couch, “Now remember. It’s ok to talk about the past. Confrontation can be hard but if Anna would have never confronted her sister Elsa then Elsa would have shut the castle doors after coronation day and everyone would have been miserable!” Patton looked up at the doctor with a light smile. The first smile that had graced his lips in the week since he had woken up from his coma. Dr Picani was good at finding silly links between problems and cartoons which confused a lot of patients but had always made Patton feel safe. By referring to a problem and linking it to something from Patton’s childhood such as a cartoon it made issues easier to deal with.

“W-Well it started just before I’d fully woken up… I had a dream.”

Darkness pooled around Patton. His eyes were closed but he could feel a hand on top of his own. The hand felt limp as though the person was sleeping... Possibly dead. Where was he? The last thing he could remember was the explosion. A crash so loud that his ears were still ringing. He could feel freezing cold air beating against his face as his stiff, aching muscles finally started to respond. He intertwined his fingers with the hand in search of warmth and squeezed. He felt calmed by the hand. He slowly opened his eyes and screamed. He sat up and tried to push himself away but came crashing into a wall. Where was he? He wasn’t in the hospital. He was in some sort of bunker. The walls were a icy, coal grey concrete. All the walls were lined with shelves that were filled to the brim with empty food cans. The place looked prepared. The room had a thick layer of dust covering every single object. There were cabinets and boxes filled to the brim with used supplies. The bunker looked as though it had already been used. As though an apocalypse had already happened. Across from Patton there was a woman’s decaying body laying against a bed. Her skin was grey, her lips a pale pink. From inspection she must have been pretty in her time but now she was simply a corpse. Bundles of blond hair lay straggled atop her scalp; bald patches separated each clump of greasy fibre. She was sat up on her own bed that looked almost identical to Patton’s. Her skin was torn and bloody. Patton looked away quickly from the girl. He instead focused down on himself. He was in a gasmask and had on a hazmat suit. The suit had a name stitched onto the sleeve, ‘Luke Jenkins’. Upon further inspection of himself, he too was decaying. Parts of the suit and his skin had decomposed leaving only bone in its place. Patton, feeling confused and scared whispered his fate to the lone unrelenting bunker. A bunker he could not remember. The words left his lips as solid fact, “I’m dead.”

“And then you woke up?” Dr Picani inquired. Patton nodded, pulling his sweater over his hands to make sweater paws and stared at the floor. “I woke up. And my husband was there. He was wearing the suit.” Dr Picani nodded and scribbled down some notes. The room felt silent except the soft scratching of a pen against paper. It was a sound that brought Patton a great deal of comfort- it reminded it of long winter nights with his husband in which they would both be sat in a relaxed silence. Patton would be reading and Logan would be busy marking books. “So you told me in our last session you were going to research Luke Jenkins. Did you find anything?” Patton once again nodded his head. He had in fact researched Luke Jenkins. Mr Jenkins was a short man standing at only 4’9. He had long straight ginger hair that he often wore in a man bun and he had a BMI of around 19 making him a healthy weight for a man of his height. This was all irrelevant knowledge. Luke was married to a young woman in her twenties called Gina Jenkins. She was quite a tall woman at 5’8 and she had short blond hair bobbed to her shoulders. Mr Jenkins was a hypochondriac and as well as being constantly paranoid about his health he was also constantly paranoid about the earth ending. Because of this, Sunnyside resident Mr Jenkins ended up building a bunker in his back yard. Ten years later when his house was resold due to Mr Jenkins never paying rent the young couple that had ended up moving in found the bunker and inside found Mr Jenkins and his wife dead. Rotting away inside the very thing made to keep them alive. Patton explained all this to Picani in detail.

“Patton, here is my analysis. I think you remembered an article you read and you simply dreamt you were Mr Jenkins. Don’t worry. This sort of thing is very common. I’m going to prescribe you some clonidine as I believe that the explosion has triggered some form of post traumatic stress disorder and you are having nightmares because of it. I would like to see you on a weekly basis so I may check up on your well being and hopefully we can get your life back on track. Is that ok?” Again, Patton simply nodded in response before saying his goodbyes and leaving the doctor’s home. He braced himself on his crutches he now had to use as a result of breaking his leg in the impact of the explosion and pulled out his phone calling Logan.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Voicemail.

Patton sighed and tried again. Since he woke up that day everything had been different. He’d barely spoken a word to Logan- to anyone except from Dr Picani. Logan felt it was as though Patton was a ghost in the shell of their old home. He simply drifted from room to room, not speaking and hardly eating. The trauma of the event that still haunted the entire town had started to die down for most until it was just a nightmare. Not for Patton. Most people had been given months to recover. Many people hadn’t but life in Sunnyside was becoming normal once more. Buildings that had been damaged were being rebuilt and work places were reopening. People had started getting back into their routines and the once very thick and gloomy atmosphere had seemed to finally be lifted. Kids could be seen dancing and laughing as they skipped by open shops and streets bustling with people. Life went on. Logan had started working again now that Patton was awake and said to be well. Patton was not well. Sure, he was physically well. Aside from a broken bone in his leg he was in perfect health now that the radiation poisoning had worn away. His head had collided with the floor in the crash but had only caused minor head injuries. Mentally though Patton was a wreck. He couldn’t focus. Memories of that day kept him awake at night. Memories of his dream aided his lack of sleep. Patton found himself feeling much colder then before. Touching certain objects caused him to have daydreams. Some daydreams were of cute memories- some were his own memories but others were like an out of body experience. Other objects gave him nightmares that left him a shaking, sobbing mess. Patton was rarely seen now without gloves or hoodies, sweaters and jumpers so long that the sleeves covered his hands. Dr Picani had ordered Logan to keep track of these dreams. Logan spent a lot of time watching over Patton in case his ocean eyes would drain of colour to that blank white. He’d make sure to be there for his husband when those white eyes would overflow like a dam and blue would spill out, colouring the empty page. What Picani believed to be PTSD, Logan believed to be a superhuman ability. It wasn’t a secret that certain people in the town had been given superhuman abilities due to the explosion. In fact, people spent a lot of time after the first few months trying to find out if they had received abilities. Logan had always been a man of facts and the fact was that pure white eyes and the ability to relive memories that didn’t belong to you were not symptoms of PTSD. Logan just wished he could be there for his husband and discuss his hypothesis but Patton had become so distant since he had woken up. It was as though sleeping beauty had lost himself over the last few months and Logan feared Patton had fallen out of love with Logan.

Or maybe he was just over-reacting. Patton had only been awake for a week. Logan should give him time to properly heal.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Voicemail.

Patton slumped against the red brick walls of Dr Picani’s home. Clearly Logan was busy. Next, he tried Virgil who answered almost instantly. It wasn’t long before he was being picked up in a taxi with his best friend in the back seat. He got in the car and fastened his seat belt making sure to avoid eye contact with his friend. He would have called a taxi and travelled home alone if he knew the number to the local taxi company. Virgil sighed as he sat back in his seat. He had hoped maybe today would be the day Patton spoke outside of therapy. He shouldn’t have got his hopes up based on the call he had got this morning in which Logan Berry was actually crying on the other end. Logan doesn’t often cry. To Virgil’s knowledge, the only person Logan has ever cried in front of is Patton. Virgil thought it was fitting that the only other person that has heard him cry heard him crying over Patton. Logan had dropped Patton off at therapy this morning and spent twenty minutes parked outside on the phone to Virgil in tears because Patton still hadn’t spoke to him. The only words any of them had heard since Patton had woken up was the phrase, “I’m dead.” The only explanation they ever received for that phrase was from Dr Picani who told them all Patton was simply dreaming. After seeing a person who had received superhuman abilities as a cause of the radiation, Virgil along with Logan wholeheartedly believed that this dream was instead a power. A superpower. Part of Virgil believes that the only reason he thinks this is because he’s always been a massive superhero nerd. His collection of comic books is that large that there is an entire closet dedicated to them.

Most superheroes gain their powers after tragedy strikes. The true showcase on whether a person is a hero or not is how they use their powers. Virgil has always seen his friend as a superhero. The guy literally spends his days helping those who are sick or in need. Virgil might not have any super hero abilities as far as he’s concerned but he could still save his friend, “Patton? Is everything ok?” Virgil slowly reached over and placed his hand over Patton’s bare hand as a sign of comfort and as a sign that he is there. Patton’s eyes quickly faded to that dreaded colour once more and his friend turned to him, eerily slow. His lips parted and he uttered the first words Virgil had heard him say all week.

“You have powers too.”

Taglist: @sandersfandersblog

[literaphobe]

but they were never you

here’s a big steaming pile of Depression™ (jk its not that sad) part 1 out of maybe two, hopefully just two i don’t want to be TOO extra hahaha *sweats nervously* read on ao3

Gina Linetti is good at everything, great at modesty, and the best at being an idiot with her feelings.

As it turns out, so is Rosa.

“You know, in another lifetime, you and I would have made a hot ass couple.”

“Agreed.”

She means those words. Or, well, word. Summed up very curtly, just as much of a throwaway remark as Gina’s was. It’s a logical conclusion to make; after all, why wouldn’t the two most formidable people in the squad make one hell of a pairing?

And, as so eloquently put by Gina’s silver tongue, what a hot ass pair they would make indeed.

It’s such a pity Gina Linetti’s straight. Or well, not into girls. Or well, not into Rosa. Rosa’s not sure, and Rosa sure as hell isn’t asking—especially not now, seeing how the auburn haired girl one could only dream of having has a child with a man she’s in a committed relationship with (as people normally are when they have a kid together).

What’s an even bigger pity is how Rosa’s heart twists itself apart at the hypothetical phrasing she uses, the way the idea of them has never even been considered in this lifetime. Not that Rosa hasn’t considered it, though. She has. One too many times.

Quite pathetic, actually, is a way to describe Rosa, and the way she secretly pines after Gina. She’s not like, madly in love with her or anything. Gina has just always been a consideration of hers. A person that she got along well with, well enough that Rosa would have dated her if she could. Someone she just knows in her gut she’d be great together with.

But yeah, as said, she’s not madly in love with her or anything. And when her soul broke into shards when Gina was hit by that bus all those months ago? That wasn’t love—okay, that was love, but that wasn’t romantic love.

Never mind that it was Rosa and only Rosa who threw herself into her work, unhealthily affecting her personal life. Never mind that it was Rosa and only Rosa who had to leave the room when the squad first went to visit Gina in the hospital after her accident. Never mind that it was Rosa and only Rosa who hid in a bathroom and had a panic attack because seeing Gina lying unconscious in a hospital bed was too much to handle.

So yeah, she happens to have a bit of a soft spot for Gina. But who wouldn’t? After all, she herself once said “It’s only normal for the people in my life to drown in the arms of depression whenever something bad happens to me–“

She then went on to talk about how that was why everyone just had to donate to her PayPal to fix the spandex of her performing outfit. But context isn’t important, especially with regards to most things Gina says.

So yeah, she’s not in love with Gina, but deep down Rosa sees her as a missed opportunity that was never hers to take. But the fact that she’s even having these thoughts at all is rather pathetic, as stated. Shameful, really. Because she’s seeing someone, and she’s happy, she truly is, and it’s going great—so there’s no reason for Rosa to be thinking about Gina at all.

Two months later, she breaks up with Tiffany.

No, it’s not at all prompted by Gina and Milton breaking up. Of course not. Why would it be? Tiffany and Rosa just had irreconcilable differences that they were unable to get over.

And by that Rosa means she bought tomato soup and drank the entire bowl. For the second (2) time in their relationship. And as Rosa watched her slurp her supper, she couldn’t help but think about how Gina would have the exact same disturbed expression on her face if she had been there with her.

But no, of course, Gina Linetti has nothing to do with why yet another relationship of hers has fizzled.

“Come on, what’s your girlfriend’s real name?”

“I told you, it’s Tiffany.” Rosa spins the Twister wheel. “Right hand blue, Boyle.”

“But that’s the fake name you gave us! Tiffany doesn’t even sound like a real name!”

“Ugh,” Gina shrugs, sprawling over Rosa’s couch like she owns it, and Rosa hates to think about how Gina doesn’t look at all out of place in her apartment. How she seems to perfectly belong. “It’s not like she’ll tell us. Let’s just call her Becky.”

That time, strangely, Rosa wasn’t lying. Her (then) girlfriend, really was named Tiffany. Although to be fair, Rosa had lied about how “Tiffany” was a fake name she made up so that the squad wouldn’t look her up. Thinking that her girlfriend’s actual name was a fake one would guarantee no one looking her up at all.

Really, the one person Rosa truly meant to lie to about her girlfriend’s identity was Gina. Sure, she might not have done it on account of the fact that Rosa was dating a girl, but Gina had a habit of looking up guys she was dating and making fun of them, especially in terms of how they were unsuited for Rosa. It was something that would irk her, because Gina was most often right.

So yes, Rosa’s lied to Gina numerous times to escape some “fun” truth bombs about people she’s dating. Rosa’s also lied to Gina for many other unrelated reasons.

The first time Rosa Diaz lied to Gina Linetti? That was in the summer of 2009, on Gina’s first day at the Nine-Nine.

Rosa remembers escaping to the roof one morning, in an attempt to escape Amy’s forty hour speech about how Captain McGintley could improve things in the police station, how he could do a better job of running the precinct. And whether the contents of Amy’s speech would actually last forty hours was irrelevant, because as much as Rosa cared about her fellow detective, it would have felt like forty hours to her.

She’s on the roof for like a minute when she hears footsteps behind her, approaching, and she sighs because Amy probably found her and is about to chew her out, or someone saw her sneak away and is about to chew her out.

Either way, not good.

“Look, I just needed a little break. Sometimes work can be hard to handle.”

“Cool. I’m just here because I was following a hot girl to the roof.”

Rosa’s heart nearly skips a beat. Both because of the unfamiliarity of the voice and also because of the unexpected compliment.

“Uh, what–“

“And don’t you dare think that I don’t know you’re here only because you were trying to escape that pantsuit lady. I don’t blame you though. I came up here because I was afraid she’d target me next.”

Rosa crosses her arms and a smirk rises up her face. “I thought you came up here because you were following a hot girl.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Diaz. You’re not my type.”

“You’re not my type either.” That’s it. That’s the lie. “Why do you know my name and not Amy’s?”

“Your desk is across from mine. I just had to turn my head right a little,” she smiles. “As for Amy, well. I only know her so far as the lady who wears nerdy pantsuits that my boy Jake badly wants to bang for some reason. He hasn’t admitted it, but boy wants it bad. I guess if you remove all the nerd she has a somewhat bone-able feel to her. Still not my type though.”

“Is anything your type?”

“Hmm, you seem oddly interested. Why is that, Rosa?”

Rosa rolls her eyes, because she’s not sure if this girl is into girls or if she’s just a straight girl who loves to mess with women like her. “Trust me, hard pass.”

“I never offered myself up in the first place.”

“Whatever,” Rosa scoffs. “How do you know Jake?”

“We grew up together, he just got me a job here. Say hello to your new and improved Civilian Administrator. Whatever that is.”

Somehow, Rosa has a sinking feeling that Gina isn’t going to be great at her job. Yet, she never wants this girl to leave, for some reason.

“Jake didn’t mention you.” To be fair, however, Rosa doesn’t keep track of what Jake says very often. Maybe Amy remembers.

“Well, I guess he’s dead to me now. He probably spends all his time here flirting with the pantsuit warrior. What do you think their fate is? Will they give into their desires and do the nasty for a night? Will things end badly and result in sweet Amy leaving our precinct in tears?”

“I think Jake’s more likely to be the one in tears if things end badly.”

Gina cracks up, and Rosa finds herself chortling along too, simply because of how addictive Gina’s giggles are.

“I like that, you’re absolutely right,” Gina continues. “You can stay.”

“Stay? Stay where?”

“In this precinct. As a detective. You can keep your job.”

Rosa raises her eyebrow. “That’s not up to you to determine.”

“Sure it is.”

Gina Linetti walks away, and for some strange reason, Rosa Diaz decides to follow. No, she’s not interested in Gina at all, doesn’t want to hang out with her more at all. Her stomach is free, from any sort of butterflies, that’s for sure.

And over the years, Rosa definitely, definitely, does not develop any feelings for Gina Linetti.

“Well you’re in luck, because I have the perfect girl for you, and I’m actually texting with her right now.”

Rosa almost sighs with a dread so powerful it would’ve cut through the floor, through all the levels of the precinct. She already doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t care what legendary, powerful, fantastically gorgeous woman Gina might want to set her up with.

The one she wants is already sitting across from her.

Rosa regrets the day Gina first set her up with someone. She regrets the actions, chain of events that led up to it. And most of all, she regrets saying yes.

“Great bathroom,” Gina remarks as she steps out. The games are dwindling down, and one by one, everyone leaves. “Just realized I haven’t been to your new place until today. A pity.

“That’s because I don’t let anyone come over. But thanks, I put a lot of thought into this bathroom. I had a feeling you’d like it.”

“Hmm. It’s good... but I think I like ours better,” she winks.

And Rosa swears, in that moment , she has to ignore the skip of a beat in her heart.

She holds back Gina’s hair, those practically immaculate curls, gently patting her back as she hurls. Gina grips onto the toilet seat for dear life, whilst Rosa’s practically kneeling on the floor as she takes care of her. It’s a relief Rosa decided to take them here instead of the ladies room, AKA the one all the other women use that’s very very disgusting.

Maybe Gina’s too drunk to remember any of this, so it won’t matter that Rosa brought her here, and she’ll still be the only one who knows about the secret bathroom, like she intended.

“Okay, I think I’m better,” she quakes, slowly getting up to head for the sink, which prompts Rosa to move away from her and flush the toilet as Gina washes her mouth out.

When she’s done, Gina seems much better than how she had been at the rave, which was, well, a state that Rosa won’t get into out of respect for Gina. She continues to look a little off and under the weather, but starts looking around the bathroom whilst Rosa sprays some air freshener.

“You know what this place could use?” Gina wonders out loud. “A bed.”

“This is a bathroom, Gina,” Rosa reminds, hoping that this is a sign of delirium that will lead to Gina recalling nothing tomorrow.

“Fine, a couple of throw cushions then. Wait—no, a carpet! A carpet’s more important. We need a rug made out of wolf fur. And maybe some weird crystals in a vase made out of glass...”

She begins pacing around the room and making all sorts of very specific suggestions; Rosa no longer thinks that she’s going to forget any of this. Both herself and Gina.

Somehow, after they leave Babylon (this name was Gina’s idea) together, trading ideas to spruce the bathroom up back and forth, Rosa finds that she’s okay with Gina knowing about her secret bathroom.

Because it’s their secret bathroom now.

“Hey,” Rosa walks up to Gina’s desk, roughly three hours after their last secret trip to Bed, Bath, and Beyond. They’ve made numerous trips there, and each trip has been nothing short of hilarious, flirty fun. There’s been lingering touches here and there, and Rosa’s been on the receiving end of most of them. She knows there’s something there, knows that she hasn’t been imagining things. Gina makes her heart race in highly embarrassing ways she’s never experienced with such intensity before. She never feels more alive than when she’s with this woman.

And that’s why Rosa’s about to tell Gina where they’re going on their first date.

“Oh, you’re here, perfect–“ Gina interrupts, looking away from her phone and then locking eyes with Rosa, which is fine with her because she’s not in a rush. Their date won’t start for several hours. “I wanted to talk to you.”

The glee surrounding Gina’s entire demeanor brings a smile to Rosa’s face. This girl is so cute, cuter than she gets credit for, with more charms than one could count. Perhaps she’s about to beat Rosa to the chase and ask her out on a date.

“I want you to meet my friend Justin! Girl, before you say anything, my dude is perfect for you. He’s a tattoo artist, he owns a motorcycle–“

“Wait.” Rosa’s gut feels punched. “Are you... are you setting me up on a date?”

Gina breaks out into a brilliant, yet vaguely questioning grin. “Yeah! It’s the least I could do, since you introduced me to the best part of my life. I never thought I’d be the mother of the most gorgeous bathroom to grace this god damn earth, but here we are.”

Rosa tries not to focus on how Gina basically referred to herself and therefore Rosa as supposed co-parents, albeit over a bathroom. She also tries not to focus on the sound of her heart breaking.

She clears her throat, because not doing so would result in Gina hearing how tortured her voice might sound.

“So... are you game or not?” Gina asks, confusion at Rosa’s lack of a response. “Because Justin’s picking you up at six.”

Rosa swallows hard. She can’t believe how stupid she’s been. Of course Gina wasn’t interested in her like that, of course Gina wasn’t even interested in girls like that. Rosa’s almost glad that this happened, because if she hadn’t been interrupted by Gina she would’ve went on to ask her out on a date like an idiot, gotten laughed at, and shut down. Again, like an idiot. Rejected, for the first time in her life too, which would be a disgrace.

“Sure. Uh, I gotta go, go work on this case now.”

“You do what you gotta.”

Gina goes back on her phone like nothing’s different.

Rosa walks away with tears in her eyes.

Her blind date with Justin goes horribly, with Rosa just straight up telling him it’s not going to work out halfway through their date.

(It’s entirely her fault. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that Justin’s motorbike was a Yamaha, glad that she now had an excuse for the entire date tanking.)

She spends quite a while convincing herself that she doesn’t like Gina Linetti. Because she is a straight girl, and Rosa Diaz does not pine after straight girls. In fact, the very fact that Gina is straight should be off-putting in and of itself. Having a teensy, tiny bout of feelings for Gina was merely a momentary lapse in judgement, a small window of weakness that Gina inadvertently climbed into and nurtured.

She doesn’t like Gina Linetti. Not at all.

It’s even more painful to get set up with Gina’s female friends than it is with her male ones, somehow. Heck, how Gina knows so many lesbians is a mystery to Rosa. She doesn’t know enough queer women herself, which is a pity. Maybe if she had spent more time expanding her gay circle, she wouldn’t be secretly pining after a straight girl.

Her feelings for Gina come and go. Which in this case means that sometimes Rosa can ignore her feelings for Gina, to the point where she can go about her life, have some sparks with other people; she can think about and see Gina without something indescribable bursting inside. She can, on a good day, convince herself that she actually hates Gina Linetti, for some strange reason. On an even better day, she won’t think about Gina altogether.

“This is Trishelle."

It takes all of Rosa’s mustered restraint to keep herself from cringing at the girl’s name. She already hates this, hates that Gina will be leaving right after introducing her friend to Rosa. Rosa can’t believe any of this. Come to think of it, she’s never let anyone set her up on a blind date before. Why she lets Gina Linetti get away with things she’d never let anyone else so much as suggest is beyond her.

(Okay, so it’s not actually beyond her, but it’s something that would be rude of her to think about while she’s on a date.)

The date ends up tanking, especially because a cute bartender who actually knows what a good drink is keeps talking to her, and Rosa ends up tuning out whatever Tremily is saying. Wait, what was her name again?

Anyway, Aubrey (the bartender) turns out to be witty and much better company than Tricole. Who, ends up leaving early because she was feeling tired, and somehow not at all bothered to see Rosa talking to someone who’s not her.

Aubrey closes up the bar, and Rosa goes home with her. She likes Aubrey, she really does. But, like all the other people she’s liked and met after knowing Gina, she has to ignore how her heart pumps less wildly than it would for a certain someone.

Gina slowly rocks a sleeping Iggy in her arms. Her baby hums softly and has the most angelic smile on her face. She’s the light of Gina’s life, which is not something she had expected, but it’s the truth now.

The front door opens and Trishelle walks in.

“How’d the date go?”

“Terribly.”

“Great,” Gina has to force herself not to grit her teeth. “So... she went home with Aubrey?”

“I’m assuming so. They seemed to hit it off, especially when I was talking about skinny margaritas. Seriously, what does she have against that drink?” Trichelle collapses on Gina’s couch with a sigh.

“She’s Rosa Diaz, she’d never consciously admit to liking a cocktail. Or any form of alcohol that’s not in a bottle.” Gina bites her lip after she says this. She doesn’t bite too hard, of course, because no way is she letting anything happen to her full and beautiful mouth.

“Margarita can come in a bottle.”

“Ugh,” Gina groans, rolling her eyes. “No one cares, Trishelle!”

Trishelle swallows her disdain, because she knows that that anger isn’t actually meant for her. “Right. Not the point. Let’s discuss the real issue here: why are you setting Rosa Diaz up with other girls if you’re so clearly in love with her?”

This question drops on Gina like a boulder straight on top of her chest. Her lungs collapse, just for a moment, because she quickly blinks away the pain.

“Because it’s too late for me now,” she says, trying to sound cool and casual, and not like she’s masking the way hundreds of needles are piercing her heart. “She’ll never see me as more than a friend. But... I still want her to be happy.”