#the power in my rv shut off at some point in the night

[peaches2217]

The kids had a great time at their grandparents’!

(They did not, in fact, have a great time and will probably be pooping in my shoes tonight.)

[balshumetsbaragouin]

Bittersweet Future: Chapter Sixteen

Summary:

Danny awakens the day after to search through the wreckage of Camp for supplies. Later, the group makes its way out of the caves, with The Meadow and safety on their minds.

If You Thought This Was An Ordinary Road Trip...

Danny ignored the of sound of the cushions creaking for the third time in the last fifteen minutes. They were stacked on top of each in the back third of the RV, and the noises were the least of his problems. Every joint ached and creaked, his body having decided to remind him he’d slept in a basement the night after fighting the GSU in Amity and the day before fighting them in the valley. Ghost powers came with a lot of perks, but even they couldn’t salve all the aches of being slammed into shields or taking ecto-weapon fire to one of your limbs. Still, he was in better shape than either the eldest halfa or Daniel. The latter had gotten concussion symptoms at some point between 10pm and midnight, and spent the night bouncing between yakking his brains out and wincing at every drip in the cave. The former couldn’t even lay down flat or breathe without suppressing shivers; he’d wheezed all night like a squeaky toy. Danny would have found it hilarious under different circumstances.

He could deal with a little soreness and the annoyance of one of the twins punting his back all night...even if it makes me want to kick them back. As another dream induced kick popped him in the ribs right near his kidneys, he gave up on sleeping any longer. He didn’t want or need any more bruises, and he couldn’t manage to get comfortable enough to sleep more anyway. He struggled out from the twisted up blankets and picked his way past people towards the bathroom. His alternate universe twin glared up at him the moment he passed, mouthing something about shutting up, but he was tiptoeing and everything made him wince, so Danny ignored it.

He stumbled back out of the bathroom to find his elder sister grimacing back at him, all bed head and dark circles under her eyes. He eyed the wrist she’d been rubbing the day before and suppressed a wince when he saw the dark bruise and the swelling. It looked more like a big purple plum than a wrist at the moment. He shuffled towards the front of the RV, dodging when Daniel threw a pillow at his head and actually hissed at him. Dude is annoying, but if my head hurt as much as his does right now, I’d throw something heavier. Danny reasoned before getting off the RV. He was hungry, and determined to find some food.

He shuffled back into the middle of the rocky antechamber the RV was parked in, and startled when he saw his mom already setting up what looked to be a hot plate and some pans. She had a frown fixed firmly on her face though and was rummaging through some metal crates. “Where is any of the damn—”

“Morning.” He watched her stiffly stop leaning over a box and wave at him.

“Is Jasmine awake? I’m trying to find the packaged meals.”

“Um, yeah?” Danny grumbled, voice still gravely with sleep. “Just saw her head towards the bathroom. What time is it?”

“A little after 4:30 in the morning.” “Oh God, I’m going back to sleep. I don’t care if they keep using my left kidney as a soccer ball.”

“No you’re not. We need to start preparing to head down into the valley to grab supplies.” He groaned then, realizing he’d be lifting things and moving objects way earlier than he’d like.

“Can’t it wai—”

“No.” Her voice was flat, drained, and strained. She swept a piece of sticky hair away from her forehead and pointed back at Danny. “Go grab Jasmine, quietly, so she can tell me where she packed the food. Then come back here with Daniel.” She made a shooing motion and leaned back over the boxes, pushing something around inside before pulling out a cast iron skillet.

“He’s probably going to kill me if I try to talk to him.”

“He can’t shoot an ecto-ray strong enough to hurt a fly right now. Stop being such a baby, and go do as you’re told.”

Yikes! This day is off to a great start. Danny complained before making his way back towards the RV. Inside, he heard whispering and climbed up to find his sister and Daniel in the front half of the RV, hissing back in forth in tones that sounded like an argument. He moved to join them, and they stopped to gaze tiredly in his direction. “Hey…so Jazz your mom wants to ask about where the food’s gotten to? Also, I’m supposed to bring you with sourpuss pillow thrower.”

“I’ll tell her where the food is, but he shouldn’t be moving.” “I’m fine.” “You have a grade three concussion.”

“I’m conscious.” “You have ghost powers. Which is why you aren’t dead, but still. You need to stay still.” “Fudge off you controlling blitz.”

“See?  Vomiting, nausea, irritability, memory loss, dizziness, headache—”

“Regardless, I’m not staying here in the RV when there’s work to do.” He announced while standing up from his seat. The suddenness earned him some wobbling and a glare from his older sister, which he ignored. “I’ll be fine, we have to work. We don’t have time for me to have sick leave ok?” With that, he trudged towards the stairs to the RV, carefully working his way around a protesting Jasmine and a silent Danny. He stomped down the stairs and half way into the antechamber before either of the other teens could stop him.

“Stubborn, ridiculous, pigheaded, reckless-”

“Um, so I’m going after him. Your mom is pissed enough without me trying her patience by staying here any longer.” “She’s your mom too.” The other girl looked more amused by the idea than she should, eyes sparkling in the low light coming from the front of the RV cabin.

“Tell her that. She practically bit my head off a few minutes ago.”

“Did you talk back?” She asked, heading after him out of the RV.

“Uh—”

“That sounds like a ‘yes’.”

“Whatever.” The sulking teen slumped as the table and Maddie came back into view, ghost power enhanced night vision giving him a good view at the frustrated look on her face. He watched as Daniel drifted back and forth, clearly trying to stay upright, but too dizzy to tell vertical from horizontal entirely. Maybe Jazz is right about him staying still…

“I’m mostly fine. If I was slurring my words or still throwing up right now I’d sit this out, but by the time we get down into the valley, I’ll be able to help.” His mother didn’t seem convinced, but it wasn’t like they had a lot of options at the moment. His father was still too touch and go to leave alone, and the twins and Lizzie would be no help packing, much more likely to waste precious time poking through everything. Sure, the inside of his skull felt like someone had put it in a blender, but he’d had worse concussions…He couldn’t remember when at the moment, but that was besides the point. He watched his mother’s expression go from disquieted to resigned.

“I trust you not to overdo it out there. I already have enough to worry about, and head injuries can go from marginal to serious quickly. Don’t lift anything heavy, and try not to bend over. You’ve clearly got vertigo and the last thing you need is to lose your balance and fall.” She noticed the other two teens hovering farther away and motioned them closer. “Hey hun,” she smiled tiredly at her daughter, “which box is the food in?”

“I’ll bring it here.” The red haired teen passed an uneasy glance to her still swaying brother before disappearing farther back into the cave.

“Alright Danny, you’ll have to do most of the heavy lifting. I can’t actually go with you, so follow Jasmine’s instructions. We’ve got the shield set up inside the cave, but outside, you’ll be able to be picked up by the GSU satellites, so no ghost powers. I’m going to explain the basics of how our miniaturizing technology works, because that’s how we’re going to get all the supplies we need back here before we have to leave.” She glanced behind her when she heard her daughter struggling to carry the box. “Get that from her will you?”

Danny rushed over to grab it, and set it down on the table next to the skillet. “Wow, how is it this heavy?”

“Water bottles.” Jasmine shrugged and poked at the side of the metal box, somehow convincing it to retract its top.

“Huh, I don’t know why, but I thought it be made of cardboard.”

“What you thought we sealed it with duct tape and shoved it inside the Hover? That’s hilarious.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a moron. Whatever man. So how does it—” Danny cut himself off as his mother pulled a gallon of water, and a couple of large food packages out of the inside of the container. It was the size of a cereal box laid flat. Ok, that’s bizarre.

“As I was going to explain, they have a maximum mass capacity they can safely store, but volume is a different thing entirely.” She set the food down on the table and placed the skillet on the hot plate. “Here is the power,” she said pointing to a slightly recessed section near the top. “Don’t try to turn these off with things still inside, it won’t let you. You’ll have to turn a crate on and let the battery prime itself before it can function.” She pointed out two more sections on the same side. “This first one tells you that it’s operational. Some of them are going to be damaged, please don’t place anything into those, even if they do turn on.”

“They turn into black holes in that case, things go in and never come out again…” Daniel looked wistful for a second, drawn into the memory of some items he’ll never get back. “The second indicator tells you it’s full. Don’t try to over stuff it either. They have this internal sensor that prevents that from happening, and it’ll just disgorge all of its contents violently. Think explosion.” He stopped swaying and leaned against the table, pulling out a fourth food package and placing it on the table. “You can’t actually stack anything either.”

“That’s correct, it just cares about mass, it’ll self-organize.”

“How do you pick out something specific from inside of it? Like, is it a Wonderball, just a total surprise what comes out next?”

Maddie smiled then and motioned for Danny to lean over the top of the crate. “Look for yourself.” She stepped away to pour some of the water into the skillet and put some more into cups that had materialized from a different crate. The raven-haired halfa did as instructed, peering into what he’d assumed would be a void. Instead, it was like looking at tiny versions of the gallon jugs and packages on the table, doll house style.

“Wow. So you just reach in and it turns, like, normal size once it comes out? How is that even possible?”

“You want the real scientific explanation with the dimensional physics, and the length contractions, and the Lorentz transformations, or will you accept ‘it’s super science’?” Daniel leaned away from the table and smirked in the other boy’s direction.

“The fuck is a Lorentz transformation?”

“Super science it is!” He said a little too brightly, while grabbing a glass of water.

“Why is it every time we talk it feels like you’re calling me an idiot or threatening to kill me?”

“Oh, because I am. Glad you picked up on it.” Danny opened his mouth to reply before his mother cut him off.

“Eat breakfast instead of bickering. Daniel, stop. No, I don’t want to hear it. I know some of this is the concussion, cut it out anyway.” She quirked her mouth into a frown when he glared at Danny, but considered the matter handled for now. “Save your energy for packing, we only have a few hours to get down into the valley and back again, and only today to grab things before we’ll have to get on the road. Now, the most important things are living quarters, medical supplies, and any false documentation you can find. The more recent stuff gets priority, but anything from the last year is good enough. Expect that things will be in disarray down there, they picked through everything, but try to be thorough.” She stirred something smelling garlic-y, but otherwise bland in the skillet, and pointed the spatula at the group of teens. “You’ll drive the Hover to the opening in the cave roof farther in, and then fly down into the valley cloaked. You’ll only have about two hours outside the shields to grab everything, and you’ll need more than one trip. Don’t dawdle, and don’t waste time fighting.” She spooned the unappetizing looking slop onto a plate and handed it to Danny. “You’re out of the cave by 5:30am at the latest, and back here no more than 45 minutes after. It’s five minutes of flight one way, so 35 to pack each trip. That gives you four trips maximum, don’t waste them.” She handed off a final plate to Jasmine and set the skillet to the side to cool. “I have to go check on your father. Finish breakfast, and get started. I’ll wake the twins up when you get back from the first trip so they can help you unload and they can organize while you return to the valley. Any questions?”

“How’s father?”

“Breathing.” She took a deep breath then, realizing she was taking out her anxiety on them. “Feverish, the wound is infected, three broken ribs, his left tibia is fractured in two places, still recovering from blood loss and delayed burns have showed up on his chest and back.” The burn wounds worried her. Wounds only continued bleeding over from ghost form like that if they got worse. The burn marks looked less like temperature damage and more like…“I think he’s got ectoranium poisoning; I’m running a few blood tests.” She waved towards the farthest chamber in their section of the cave.

“You got all the metal—”

“I did. But it was coated in it and he doesn’t have enough energy to neutralize it.” She sighed again and waved back towards the group’s field hospital. “We’ll see what the tests say. You have other things to focus on right now; I’ll keep you updated. If it gets any worse, I’ll have the twins try to pass him some energy.” She watched her eldest two children finally brighten up at that and move to prepare to grab the Hover. She refocused on cleaning the remains of breakfast after putting the rest onto plates. She had to go wake up the youngest children.

The oldest three kids worked through gathering the needed equipment for the flight down quickly. They were packing light, leaving as much room for the equipment from the valley as possible. She’d have preferred bringing a few more emptied crates just in case the ones in the valley were too damaged and they needed more extras, but space was a premium. She got Danny’s attention just as he stacked the last metal boxes into the back of the Hover. “Ok, so just grab Daniel and we’ll start heading towards the exit.” She yawned then and shook out her wrist. It ached. She’d had her mother look it over though, and it was just bad bruising and swelling. Didn’t help the pain though. She vowed to bring more medical supplies back on the very first flight. Her own pain aside, they needed scanners for her brother and dad.

“God, I’m not looking forward to this. What if there’s still some of those GSU goons standing around?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We sent out probes last night, and they showed the GSU collected everyone and retreated yesterday. We wouldn’t even risk grabbing essentials if we thought they were still hanging around.” Daniel groaned from the co-pilot seat next to her, and she eyed her still swaying brother with more concern. “Is the headache getting any better?”

“Would be if people stopped asking stupid questions about it.” He leaned over the control panel, staring blankly at the buttons and dials for a moment too long. “Don’t.” He said when he saw his sister about to start up again. “I know what they do, it’s just…slower bring up the—” he snapped his fingers a few times, “you know the stuff, the memories.”

“Information.”

“Yeah. It’s not like Danny knows how to co-pilot, so you’re stuck with me.”

“If the pain gets worse—“

“I know the symptoms alright? Stop fudging bugging me about this thrice cursed nonsense, and just…” He trailed off, waving his hand between them. “Just fly the Hover Jasmine, it’ll work itself out.”

Daybreak was coming and with limited hours to gather supplies, she put a pin in it. She started the bug-tank and maneuvered it past the RV back into the tunnel leading to the rest of the cave system. She drove it father back into the caves. The only sound in the cabin was the whirring of the hydraulics controlling the Hover, drowning out the dripping plinks of the water inside the cave. The path narrowed, walls coming close to the sides of the machine. The path cut out then, a hole appearing in the rocks ahead. She turned the wheel and had it climb the wall to their left.

“Wow. It really is a just like a bug.”

“Shut up.”

“Dude. I get you feel like shit, but don’t take it out on me.”

“If I could summon even a drop of spectral energy, I’d phase your brain half way out of your skull.”

“Gross. Are the graphic threats normal?”

“Nope. Only gets this specific and weird when he has a concussion. Anyway, almost—oh shit.” She pulled the Hover to a stop, the cave immediately in front of them a pile of rubble and stone. She sighed and pushed buttons on the panel in front of her, bringing up a few glowing holograms. Her face scrunched up as the scanners inside looked through the cave-in in front of them. “Looks like it’s only a few feet deep, guess all the collapsing rock in the other part of the cave triggered a collapse here too.” She flipped through a few more screens.

“You know this is the only way through, that’s why—”

“It doesn’t take anything to just be sure.” She frowned when the scans proved her brother right. Jasmine ran her hands through her crimson locks and thought things through. Normally, Daniel could just turn the Hover intangible, but he was drained dry, all of his energy going to healing his injuries. Danny’s energy signature wasn’t in their equipment yet so he couldn’t phase the Hover himself. If the other boy didn’t use his powers on the Hover then the energy signature could be picked up.

“I know you all said no ghost powers,” Danny ignored the other dark-haired teen’s sarcastic remark about his memory, “but there’s no way we’re getting through that blockage without them.”

“It’ll take at least twenty minutes to get your ecto-signature into the Hover’s system, and that’s if we had the permissions to do that, which we don’t.” She stated before eyeing her brother curiously. “Could you absorb his energy and then phase the Hover?”

“If the idea didn’t make me want to crawl out of my skin.”

“This is a yes or no question Daniel.”

“Yes, but I won’t like it. Happy?”

“No more than you are, but I’m trying to come up with solutions here. Try to be more flexible.” She waved Danny towards the cockpit from the cabin of the metal beetle. “Not anyone’s first choice, but I can turn on shielding to block energy inside the Hover.” She paused and did just that. “Hand over some spectral energy, and then Daniel can turn the Hover intangible and we can get going.”

“Non-hostile energy. Don’t just charge up an ecto-ray or something.”

“Right, sure…I don’t think I’ve ever tried to do that before? I mean, other than the stuff last night in the cave with the battery. Oh like that?”

“God no, that was fine because he’d transformed, but I’m too tired to manage that.” When the other boy just stared, he elaborated, “I increased my energy production twice yesterday. I don’t think I could transform if someone pointed a gun at my head. Just think of bringing your energy out while concentrating on something…pleasant?” He rolled his eyes and held out a hand, willing this interaction to be over by now. It took too much concentration to make sentences, chasing down words that slipped away through his fingers like…silt…syrup…sand! God, I shouldn’t be sitting up.

Danny held out his hand pulled some energy into it. He winced when he saw the unimpressed glare his otherworldly twin was giving him. “I’m trying, damn, give me a second.” He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of joy he got when flying, and jumped when someone grabbed his hand.

“Good enough, just keep doing that.” Daniel held his other hand against the walls of the cockpit, pulling the energy from the other boy inside and through his core, feeling it work to exchange the other teen’s ecto-energy for his own. It traveled out of the other side, drip by drab, into his left hand. The intangibility started up, spreading slow and steady across the surface of the Hover until the whole was out of phase. “Alright, drive this thing through the rubble before I lose concentration from how disgusting this feels.”

Jasmine punched it, flying through the rocks, into clear open space on the other side. “We’re through.” She continued towards the opening a few hundred yards farther back. “We’ll have to do that on the way back.”

“Don’t remind me... or do. Who knows, with the way my head hurts, I’ll probably forget by the time we’re back.”

“Don’t joke like that.” She pulled up on the controls, moving the beetle up through the hole in the cave ceiling. She brought the cloaking device up, and turned the machine back towards the valley they’d left the day before. In only two minutes, she found herself landing on the still pre-dawn valley floor, among the ruins of Camp. “First on the list is medical supplies and scanners. We need antibiotics, antivirals, analgesic, antipyretic, the works. I want to grab those first, yes even above the documentation. We can figure something out if it comes to that, but dad has an infected gut wound and I’m worried you’ve got a growing brain clot. I’d rather scramble for false documents than watch one of you die.”

“I’m not going to die…the rest of the way or whatever. But, I still think you’re right.”

Danny listened as the elder two Masters siblings thought through where the supplies would be, before pointing him off of the Hover to go get them. Daniel stood up to join him, before half-tripping himself back down into the co-pilot seat.

“Just stay here. I’ll need you for the second and third runs to find the IDs and move the living quarters. I don’t think Danny can take one of them on his own, and I know mom said not to lift anything heavy—”

“But we both know that can’t be avoided for everything. Right, benched. I’m too dizzy to walk right now anyway. Shouldn’t have used my powers to turn things intangible.” He sighed then and leaned back in the seat, closing his eyes. “Hurry up, the faster we get each trip done, the more of them we can do.”

The two able-bodied teens jumped off the Hover, picking through the crates and boxes nearest the bug-tank first. Jasmine had brought them down near the remains of their medical tent. She sighed when she noticed much of it had already been scrabbled through by the GSU. All of the obvious medication had been swiped…but, looks like they didn’t grab any of the reagents and base chemicals. We grab those and some beakers, Bunsen burners, and mom may be able to synthesize the medicine herself. She grimaced as soon as she thought it. Her father was the bio-chemist; her mother specialized in electrical engineering. Still, she knew enough. She heard Danny ‘whoop’ and hold up a large metal crate.

“I think I found the jackpot!” He pulled the closed container out from under a stack of half collapsed and crushed metal. He hoisted it higher when she walked closer so she could take a better look. “It’s sealed, but everything works, and it says—”

“Right.” She opened the top of the crate, depressing the latch, and peered inside. A real grin broke out when she saw what was inside. On top of basic first-aid kits were bottles of more specialized medicine. It looked like one of their emergency medical boxes had been spared, an explosion from the battle having thrown it under others. “This is a life saver, let’s get this back to the Hover.”

The next two trips went similarly, other than Daniel having been to told on the third, over his objections, to sit still when he’d leaned over and almost slammed face first into the ground from his vertigo. He spent the rest of that trip with a scowl on his face, but otherwise compliant, which worried his sister more than anything else. He must’ve felt worse than he’d let on. Still, even in one spot, he was useful for pointing out places to look.

They had time for one last trip, and this one was for the largest pieces of equipment: the shield nodes, the living quarters, and the still being rebuilt kitchen. She groaned when the Hover landed back in the valley, imagining lifting something with her throbbing wrist and arms. She’d been huffing the entire last trip, arms quivering as they rushed the last of the crates to the Hover. They’d picked things in order of importance, but that left the heaviest for last, sentimental though much of this was, but that didn’t make this trip any less painful. “I’m not looking forward to this anymore than you all are, so let’s get this done. First is the shield nodes, or what’s left of them. There are a few more buried around that make up the full perimeter for Camp, after that is common rooms, and then living quarters, then sentimental stuff. If we’re too tired to get to everything, we’re getting the most important things first.”

“And the heaviest…” Daniel stood up from his position in the co-pilot seat and walked towards the open exit to the Hover. “I’ll grab the shield node over there,” he said pointing off to the left, “Danny can grab the one by the twins’ room and their room. Just stack them,” he declared with a roll of his eyes when the other boy looked likely to protest. “You grab the last one, and we’ll meet up back here.” He ignored the throbbing ache behind his eyes at the increasing glow in the sky. The worst of the vertigo had abated on the last flight back to the cave, and disappeared after phasing them through the rubble for this last flight out. He hated to admit it, but the small boosts of ghost energy he was getting from Danny were helping his concussion.

He walked over and carefully lifted up the buried node of their shield into his arms. By the time he’d picked his way back to the Hover past the debris littering the remains of Camp, Danny had dropped off his first load and was coming back with a second precarious looking set of crates.

“God, these are way heavier than anything else we’ve hauled; my arms are gonna fall off.” He huffed while placing them into the back of the Hover, and hopped back down to face the other two teens. “What’s left?”

“The other bedrooms,” Jasmine ignored the pained groans coming from the boys, sympathetic pains flaring up in her own arms, “and then that’s it actually. The kitchen was fried, nothing left to grab.” She watched Danny blinking up into the rising sun, eyes squinted against the light.

“What day is it anymore? This all feels like one long moment of eternal torture.”

“It’s May 6th; I think.” She rolled her shoulders and started off towards her own room.

“Wait, the sixth?”

“Yeah? What, you miss an appointment?”

“No! Why are-nope, no not getting pulled into an argument with you. I’m just—my mom’s birthday is tomorrow?”

“Our mom…” she corrected absently, before she frowned taking in what Danny had actually said. “Oh, yeah I guess it is.”

“Great birthday present you got her this year man. She’ll never forget it!”

“Oh my fucking—my point, is that there’s gotta be, I don’t know, party supplies or presents somewhere around here.”

Jasmine’s face scrunched up in thought, looking around at the chaos on the ground around them. “Maybe, but we do not have time to look for them, if they are still intact. Let’s grab last of the bedrooms, and hurry back.”

Danny hunched his shoulders a moment, resigned to following orders before the ridiculousness of the entire situation got to him again. “What’s the point? No, I don’t mean this supply run, just, in general. What’s the point of doing any of this if we’re just gonna run and hide and cower the whole time?”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re not in fighting shape.”

“That’s not what I mean.” He stopped and wiped some sweat away from his forehead, it was already getting humid out. “If we’re just surviving, if we can’t even celebrate a birthday, then why are we doing any of this? It’s not living to just scrape enough together to make it to the next day.” He turned back towards Jazz, ready to try to convince her once again, when Daniel interrupted.

“It might be the concussion talking, but I agree with dipstick over here.” He ignored the affronted look the other teen was giving him and plowed forward. “No really. It’s not like mother will remember on her own, but having a little bit of normalcy after all this might be nice. Besides, I spent way too long on my present to just leave it to rot in the rain and muck out here. Come on peanut butter, you know you want to rescue your gift too.”

The temptation grew for only a moment, before she gave in. She didn’t have energy to argue with the both of them, and the idea of a surprise party was genuinely appealing. “Alright, but be quick about it. We need to get back to the caves before too long.” She half jogged her way back towards her room, content that at least her present was safely nestled inside. By the time she’d picked her way back to the Hover, arms arching from the room she was carrying, she could hear her brother pointing out the last of the party supplies. “You’re sure that’s the last of it?” She dropped the crate with a huff, eyeing the brightened morning sky with apprehension.

“As I can be with everything scattered all over the valley.” He stood from the crate he’d been sat on, heading back to the Hover with a stretch. “We’ll have to improvise, but we’re pretty good at that.” He eyed Danny squishing the last of the supplies into a stable arrangement in the back of the Hover and stalked back to the co-pilot seat. Even if the headache had abated some, the rest of him still ached like, well, exactly like he’d been dropped hundreds of feet into the unforgiving earth.

Jasmine settled in next her brother, starting up the machine, and admonishing Danny to strap in before they took off. He stopped fiddling with the contents in the back third of the flying tank, and sat down as she guided the bug back towards the caves. With any luck, she thought looking at the pink and gold of the brightening skies, we’ll leave tomorrow around this time.

Dawn broke bright and golden over the crests of the snow topped mountains, kissing them with warm light while the walls and valleys below were still wreathed in darkness. The fog that settled into the crevices of the mountain slopes overnight left a thick wetness to the air, dimming the lights of the RV as it set off out of the other side of the caves. They’d been up two hours before sunrise reorganizing, miniaturizing, and otherwise packing. Now, everything they’d need immediately was packed inside the cabin. That had taken the majority of the time, pulling things in and out of crates, since it’d been so hastily packed during the escape two days before.

The time traveling teen sat pressed against one of the windows in the middle of the RV staring grumpily at the passing gray stone and sparse vegetation. There was a slow building pressure at the base of his skull he recognized from the times he pulled all-nighters. At least I ache less today… he thought while pressing his forehead against the coolness of the glass. Opposite him on the other side of the RV was the twins, poking around on some old fashion Gameboys. They’d pulled them out and began ignoring everyone else the second they’d all set off. His sister was closer to the front squinting at a map with Daniel, brainstorming…something. He was too tired to get wrapped up in that.

The other halfa had been in a brighter mood this morning, the symptoms from the concussion abating to a dull roar and lifting his spirits with the lightening headache. Sure, he’d still hissed something about killing him if Danny tried anything, but that was expected and not even vivid in detail this time. The youngest member of the group was reading something in the seat behind him, fully off in her own world. In fact, the only member he hadn’t seen or spoken to the last two days was Vlad. In ordinarily circumstances, that’d be the best news he could hope for. Now though, especially having overheard the list of injuries he was nursing from his not-quite-mom yesterday at breakfast, it was itching at him.

Back in his own timeline, the elder halfa seemed untouchable. It was unnerving to see him waylaid by something as small as a grenade. The ghost weapons back home aren’t so effective. He thanked his lucky stars, what was left of them after burning through a few on this trip, that they weren’t. His otherworldly twin had mentioned that they were specially designed to damage their ectoplasmic signature. It made his skin crawl.

The Guys in White hated “Invisi-bill”, but even they didn’t have specialized guns and bombs. What was up with this timeline? He mused while watching the stone grays of the barren upper slopes of the mountains give way to the softer browns of soil and warm greens of old growth forest and grasses. The path out of the cave system was part natural and part ecto-blast carved, leading first deeper into the range and then emptying out close to US-70. At least, that’s what he’d heard when they were packing, with a warning to find something to do for a good six to seven hours before they escaped the mountains. Personally, he was going to get comfortable in his seat, wedge himself against the wall, and sleep until someone poked him awake… He only got to rest his eyes for what felt like a few minutes before he was being poked. “What?”

“You hungry?”

“It’s been, like, five minutes. How could I be hungry?”

“Dude, you’ve been snoring and slobbering into the side of the RV for the last four hours.” Danny finally peaked an eye open, taking in the amused grin of one of the twins. He was still being poked though, he realized, not by the one in front of him.

“Cut it out.” He brushed the hand away, only for the twin in front of him to start up the poking. He blinked and sat up, batting the new hand away. “Come on, what part of ‘cut it out’ is confusing.”

“I’m not Nate.”

“Oh for…” This time he rubbed at his face, before opening his eyes again. A quick glance out the window confirmed they were still in the mountains, and he felt the urge to groan. He’d wanted to sleep this entire part of the road trip away, but that was not happening.

“So…food?”

“Still not hungry.”

“You should eat you know. Your core is probably tired from all the fighting you did, which is why you’re so sleepy.”

“No it’s not Jazz; I just hate being up before 10am if I can help it.” He looked towards the front of the RV, where he’d last seen her, in vain, before searching the middle of the RV for her.

“Behind you, and stop calling me that. I hate it.” She sat flipping through a magazine, open notebook next to her, pencil tapping against her lips. She scribbled something down, before looking back towards the other teen. “I don’t know where you got the idea for it, but it’s terrible.” She went back to the magazine for a moment, flipping a few pages, before putting a bookmark inside. “In any case, you haven’t been eating enough. Not that we’re hoping for another confrontation with the GSU, but you’d be useful in a fight if you were full power.”

“At the very least, you’d make a good meat shield.”

“Aw, come on bro, he’s not that bad is he?”

“You only think that because you didn’t see his form. It’s miserable. And the way he wastes energy? Eugh, I think you both have better energy control than he does.”

“Thanks for the critique. It’d been, like, a whole five minutes of consciousness without you insulting me. I was beginning to get concerned.” The other boy was still in the forward section of the RV, maps still spread out before him. “How interesting can maps even be? I sleep, you’re looking at a map. I wake up, you’re looking at a map.” He stretched his arms above his head, muscles still protesting, even some new ones from the cramped position he’d taken while asleep. Maybe Jazz has a point about food...He hadn’t been very hungry, which was unusual for him, but the thought of food made his insides churn like something was fighting inside him. He’d just have to force it, he guessed.

“These maps are different from the first ones. They have all the information on which personas we adopted where. I’m making sure the route we picked actually has all the documentation we need for those personas and cross referencing it to the latest list of updated ID requirements the government just released that the parental units got last week in town. Some of the documentation is bound to be outdated, and we don’t want it to be the ones we’re using for this trip. I know your brain is empty of most thoughts, but I actually use my mind for important things, and sometimes complicated problems take a few hours to solve. You should try it sometime. I think Elizabeth has a couple word searches you can try; it should keep you busy so you too can experience a few hours of thought.”

“Dear God, do you have any setting that’s not condescending prick?”

“Yes. Here’s a question though, Danny Fenton, why should I be nice to you?”

“Uh, because we have to be stuck in this,” at this he stopped and waved his hands around, “place together for weeks?”

“Oooo, survey says?” Jasmine made a buzzer noise, while the younger kids giggled.

“Well, I don’t know! I don’t imagine arguing with someone—”

“—arguing? Do you hear me trying to contradict some logical point your feeble mind cooked up?”

“You are purposefully trying to piss me off.”

“Yes. That much is obvious, remember the not being nice?” Danny took a deep breath then, staring out the window and counting to ten, before responding.

“How does being an asshole to me make this experience less terrible?”

“I find it entertaining.” Daniel paused to circle two places on the map, before tapping the pen against the table once more. “That’s a good enough reason for me.”

“Don’t you want to get along?”

“I’m not throwing you out of the moving vehicle am I?”

“That’s your version of ‘getting along’? How are your standards so borked?”

“You still haven’t come up with a reason for me to be nice to you.”

“Why should I need one?!”

“Because I’m usually not nice to dangerous incompetent fools who endanger my family, put my father on death’s door, get my home blown to bits, and decide to remorselessly curl up in our last remaining refuge whining that I remind him what a complete bumbling buffoon he is.”

“That’s not fair. I didn’t do that on purpose.”

“That contradicts nothing I’ve said about you being an incompetent fool. Do you need me to define ‘incompetent’ for you?” He heard the other boy take a deep breath, to start denying it again, and cut him off. “Doing all of that on accident is worse than doing it on purpose. If you were malicious, but smart, you could be predicted, even countered. Instead, you just fumble backwards into situations, making a disaster, confused about how it could have turned out that way.”

He turned in his seat to face the other teen, a scowl fixed on his face. “If you’re doing all of this on accident then you lack both the foresight and critical thinking skills to avoid a repeat, at worst, or just don’t have the experience to consider all the potential pitfalls that could get us killed at best. You’re a walking liability, and worse, one who isn’t even aware of what a burden he represents. That’s irritating. It would chafe even if you hadn’t just imploded our very precarious life and safety with your ignorance. Why should I be nice to a constant inadvertent crisis in the making?”

“It’s easier to work together, and for me to learn stuff, if I’m not getting insulted all the time?”

“Is that really true, or does it just make you feel bad?”

“Both! Everyone learns better when they aren’t being belittled.”

“Oh that’s a big word for you.”

“I walked right into that one…” Danny sighed before rubbing at his temples and glancing at his sister. “You don’t have anything to say to this?”

“I mostly agree with Daniel. I think you’re a time bomb sitting in the middle of the group while we’re all watching with growing horror as the timer counts down. I don’t think being mean to you will change how dangerous you are, but I get why he finds prodding at you amusing the same way poking a bomb designed to kill you is morbidly fascinating.”

“I don’t like being compared to a bomb.”

“Don’t care. Anyway, he’ll chill when he thinks he can trust you not to bring the government on top of us again.”

“How do I make that happen faster?”

“Be even a little curious.” At the look the other ghost powered teen was giving him, Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. “You have been awake for half an hour, long enough to comment on me bent over maps the entire time, and not once did you consider asking what we were doing. You know you’re missing information, that this reality isn’t like your own, that the entire nation wants to kill us, and you’ve done nothing to help.” He took a deep breath and rolled his aching shoulders.

“No,” he held up a hand when the other boy seemed ready to speak, “I don’t mean helping pack yesterday, I meant nothing to help solve your lack of knowledge. You haven’t asked about what to expect at checkpoints, or how the shielding and scanners around every building in America works, or how to build a convincing persona, or even questions about the GSU’s tactics and weaknesses. It’s like your entire head is empty of all strategic thought, or you just figure someone else will worry about this for you. I’m choosing to believe you’re just so ignorant, you don’t know to ask, because the other option is malicious sloth, like Acedia sin level.” At that, he turned around to circle another thing on a map on the table, before rolling up the two directly in front of him.

“Ok, I can see how I look incurious, but it’s kinda hard to think with my head feeling like it’s full of cotton from lack of sleep.”

“You don’t think we’re tired too Ent dung? But we still have to work.”

“She’s reading a magazine.”

“It’s called research. You think she’s reading Sweet 6teen because she wants to know what everyone’s wearing to prom this season?”

“Maybe? That’s what my sister does at home.”

“Well, she’s not. Band names, pop star gossip, fashion trends, top 100 Billboard songs, everything the average teen knows down cold, we have to absorb artificially. It’s not like we can just go to our friends at high school and ask ‘hey Braden did you see the Kittycat Dames newest music video?’.”

“I don’t know a single person named Braden.”

“No? The name is popular. I’ve meet so many Bradens, and yeah they do look exactly as ‘white and plays lacrosse’ as you’re imagining.” Jasmine wrote a few more things down in her notebook, having focused back on the magazine the moment her younger brother started to monologue. “There’s plenty you can do to close that knowledge gap—”

“—more like a chasm—“

“—you’ve got about how to stay safe from the GSU.” She finished, plowing over her brother’s jab. “You probably even have info that’s useful to us.”

“Sure, I’m the only normal teen in this RV somehow. I can at least teach you to stop sounding like a Sci-fi convention had a baby with a grumpy thesaurus.”

“The malignancy might be inoperable in Daniel’s case though.” Nick laughed and high-fived his twin, earning an eye roll from their older brother.

“Yes that’s right, most eleven year olds can identify every species of of beetle, moth larva, or caterpillar in the lower forty-eight and talk about it randomly. You are both very normal.” He grinned when his brothers stuck out their tongues at him.

“You just don’t see the benefits of telling them apart. Many of them only eat specific plants, and their feeding grounds are poisonous, but easily mistaken for much more edible common plants that—”

“—Uh huh, yes, keep talking. It makes you sound less nerdy and sheltered.”

“Whatever. All we’re saying,—” Nate started while picking at some threads in the fabric of his chair.

“—is that even entomology knowledge is useful.” Nick finished while looking at Danny. “So, I’m sure Danny has something useful he knows, even if you’re both convinced he’s hopeless.”

“Point taken, Thing One. So, are you going to come exchange knowledge, or do you wanna take another nap?” Daniel watched the other boy squirm under his gaze, and waited for a reply.

“Fine, I should at least know where the first stop is once we get out of the mountains.” “Stop? Not until we’re three hours down US-70. We should be near the crossing to Utah by then. That’s about five hours away. Is that all you’re interested in?” He watched the other boy sigh and make his way towards the front of the RV with a listless shuffle.

“Might as well get info shoved into my brain until then.”

“It might take until the Rapture, but God as my witness, you will learn something.” He frowned when that didn’t provoke a reaction out of him. Shame. He’d have to try harder later.

In the last two hours, he’d gone over how the checkpoints at every crossing between states functioned. They’d updated the IDs, but the west was slow on uptake, so the old ones for Colorado and Utah would still work. He’d pointed out that each state had their own individual procedures. Turns out, their reality’s version of the National Heroes Act was 10x stricter, so Danny found every version over zealous. He’d mentioned it loudly, repeatedly. Luckily, we look similar enough to make use of my fake IDs, because even a wig, color contacts, and make up could only do so much. This was when he’d learned they also shared a birthday; the universe was horrible sometimes.

The Master siblings, save Daniel, couldn’t stop being amused. “Another set of twins! It’s funny.” The oldest Masters child prodded at him, the same smile fixed on her face she’d had for the last fifteen minutes. He failed to see the humor. Still, the other hybrid had paid attention long enough to get the procedure of how state crossings worked and what not to do. He was surprised he had the attention span for it.

It would be a while before they stopped for the crossing, and as a rule, they only did one of those a day if it could be helped. So the plan was to stop before the Nevada border for the night. That left another three hours until the crossing and another four after that until they stopped. More than enough to get the presents wrapped and the surprise party set up. Though, calling it a party is a bit of a stretch.

He eyed the twins behind him in the cabin with suspicion. They’d agreed to the idea, but the two of them were terrible at keeping secrets. True, their mother was distracted with driving, the crossing, and their father’s health, but the RV was only so big. He hoped they could keep it together. It wouldn’t do to spoil the fun after all this…everything they’d been through the last few days. He’d spent the last hour being louder explaining things to the other boy than strictly necessary to cover for Jasmine rummaging around getting supplies and wrapping her gift.

Right now, she was corralling Lizzie Bear into signing her name on a card and trying to shush the twins’ giggling. They’d give them all away at this rate. Danny had, through some miracle, figured out what they were up to without having to be spoon-fed. To his credit, he was being obnoxiously noisy. Tapping on the table, asking questions, kicking the siding on the RV. It was a cacophony of nonsense he couldn’t have gotten away with without suspicion. He was almost grateful. “And that’s what to do if we’re pulled over by the police. It’s also why we keep to the speed limit, even if it means more hours staring at nothing. More contact with the authorities is not worth the risk.”

“Dude, my dad speeds all the time, and I don’t think I’ve seen him get a single ticket.”

“If what our dad says about his driving is true, the speeding is the least of his road crimes. Mom, didn’t he once—”

“—Kids, I do not want to talk about that man.” She frowned back into the mirror they’d installed just to keep their rambunctious kids in view while driving. They had a habit of fiddling with and deconstructing weapons if they got too bored. Her frown deepened when she caught sight of four of them with their heads together in the back. “What are you,” she cut herself off when on alarm on her watch went off. “Could one of you go check on your father? We can’t pull over for a few more hours if we want to get over the Utah crossing.”

“I’ll do it!” Danny hopped up, working his way past the other kids into the back third of the RV.

“He’s not your dad…”

“If I look at maps any longer, they’ll be permanently burned into my eyeballs.” He reached up to pull down a ladder that lead to the upper section of the RV. The thing was more like a weird double-Decker bus and RV hybrid. He wasn’t sure how it moved so agilely when they’d escaped the valley, but he wasn’t going to complain about more space. It was cramped enough as it was. He climbed the last of the ladder steps and popped his head into the makeshift field hospital in the top of the vehicle. Well…he’s still breathing. So that’s something. He climbed the rest of the way into the space and walked over to the eldest hybrid. All the little blinking lights were green and nothing was flashing ominously at him, so he thought that was a good sign.

“What time is it?” Danny startled, backing away from the screen he’d just been looking at.

“Um, a little after noon?” Vlad sounded like death warmed over, but he was awake and that was a good thing. He hadn’t done more then wheeze and sleep the last day and a half. He couldn’t remember being down that long after a fight. Seriously, what was in that grenade? For a couple seconds, the other halfa just started at him, before throwing an arm over his eyes and sighing.

“Do you know? I was really hoping that’d been a nightmare.”

“Yeah, ‘hi’ to you too.” He’d been on his best behavior for hours, and everyone being annoyed he existed or was within a few hundred yards of them was starting to wear on his nerves. “So we’re on the way to the Colorado border, and there’s something about the crossing—”

“—I know how those work…” He trailed off while he worked himself into an upright position, a hiss of pain making it past his grit teeth. “How long until we reach the crossing?”

“Like three hours? Are you going to be up—”

“—Rest assured, there’s no choice but to be up for it.” He grimaced, scrubbing his hands carefully through his shoulder length hair, tugging at a few knots. “I should start getting presentable.”

“You still look like you have a fever?” He hummed noncommittally at that, before swinging his legs over the edge of the cot.

“I only have to pretend for an hour or so; I can manage that. The crossings in the west are poorly manned and lazy, so we shouldn’t be given much hassle.”

“What’s with all the security anyway? The scanners on the buildings, I get that. But why harass every car traveling in the US like this?” Danny took a couple quick steps to help balance the other halfa when he saw him wobbling his way to his feet.

“We can’t stay in one place for long. We can’t travel by plane, and rail or bus commute wouldn’t be feasible. How else would we be moving around so much? If we can figure out the best way to travel, they can try to stop us.” That made a certain amount of sense, if they did have to keep moving.

“Why travel at all then? Wouldn’t be easier to just...pick some place and blend in?”

“Theoretically...do you have the knowledge and money is needed to fake a Social Security number, family and friend connections, previous work history, previous school transcripts, doctor’s records, ect?” He smiled at the confused look on the teen’s face. “It takes a lot to build ‘someone’ out of thin air, and since they are looking for people who ‘appear suddenly’ we’d have to take pains to make any fake versions of ourselves look deep and real. Faking enough to pass a state border? Doable. Faking it well enough to settle somewhere? Much much harder.” He frowned down at the readouts coming out of the nearest machine. “Maddie’s being over cautious, it shouldn’t take all this…”

“She said you had blood poisoning or something.” He watched as he poked at another machine before saying, “today’s her birthday by the way.”

“Oh yes…Oh, darn it.” He’d forgotten in the chaos. It was understandable, but his gift was probably someone back in the valley in a puddle of mud. “Do you think she’d take ‘I didn’t die!’ as a gift this year?”

“Well, maybe, but we’ve got a better idea.”

“We?” Now he was curious.

“Yeah, we got most of the party supplies yesterday and the presents too. Uh, not sure about yours, but if you help distract her we’ll be able to surprise her with party when we stop for the night.” He rubbed the aching muscles in the back of his neck, stooping over those maps hadn’t helped his body aches any. He decided to grab lunch after he was done with Vlad, surprised he’d forgotten.

“I can manage a distraction.” He leaned over and pulled new clothes out of a bag. “Oh, she already found the supplies for the crossing.” He sighed, clutching them closer to his chest. “How did I get such a thoughtful, wonderful, beautiful angel to marry me?”

“I think the drugs are making you loopy.” The younger halfa scrunched up his face at Vlad’s mooning, and headed back for the ladder. “If you need me, I’ll be downstairs, while your kids condescendingly explain how lying works, or whatever else they think I’m too stupid to understand.”

“You haven’t made the best impression on them Danny, but I’m sure it’ll work itself out in a few days.” Vlad dismissed while looking through another bag for a pair of shoes.

“Yeah right…” the younger halfa doubted the problem could be solved with a few days of singing Kumbaya and holding hands in the RV. He jumped off the last two rungs of the ladder and stalked back to the middle of the cabin. “He’s awake, full sentences and everything.” He watched the other kids brighten up at his announcement.

“Thank goodness. If he slept any longer, it mean he’d need an energy transfusion, and I’m still bone dry.” Daniel rolled his shoulders as he walked back to the middle of the cabin.

“Seriously? I’ve never been out of energy that long, even after a big fight.”

“I doubt you really scrapped the inside of the barrel and then some like I did.” When the other teen glared at him, he shrugged. “The inside of my bones ache from how much energy I used, you ever have that problem?”

“Well no, but…”

“What? We’re waiting?” the other teen sighed, scuffing his foot on the floor.

“Whatever. Not fighting about this. Anyway, your dad is down with operation May Day. God that name is dumb.”

“So, back to running interference.” He ignored the other boy’s complaint. “Mother, father is awake.” Daniel yelled back towards the front. He heard her ask about the readouts from the scanners upstairs, when he saw his father come down the ladder in the back. “You could ask him yourself; he’s downstairs.”

“Honey, you should be in bed for another hour or two.”

“I’m fine. You’re fretting over nothing—”

“—You had ectoranium poisoning.”

“It was mild. You saw the blood tests yourself.” He dodged past the kids standing in the middle of the cabin, stepping over the very obvious half-wrapped presents on the floor. “I’ll need about a week to fully recover, but I can at least be up now.”

“I know you feel fine, or are at least fine enough to lie about it, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be resting right now.” She flicked her eyes towards the mirror and then blinked when she noticed him to her right instead. “Vlad,” she frowned, flicking her gaze between the road and her injured husband settling into the seat next to her.

“I won’t do anything energy intensive today, just get me caught up. What did you decide for a travel route?” When she looked away from him and back to the road, he sent a thumbs up behind him. Hopefully, he could keep her engaged long enough for those gifts strewn all over the floor to be wrapped and hidden someplace in the next couple hours.

The next few hours passed swiftly. A half dozen gifts appearing and then disappearing out of compartments Danny hadn’t known existed, the party decorations were shoved into one of their fancy miniaturization crates, and they’d signed cards. There had been a near miss, but true to his word Vlad was excellent at being distracting. It helps she’s so worried about him. He felt more queasy about that, watching her dote on him was disorientating.

They were pulling off the interstate now, to get everyone dressed up for the crossing and go over last contingency plans. Running the crossing was out of the question with all the main fighters down for the count, so they triple checked IDs, wigs, and makeup instead. He chafed under the makeup, fake freckles, scars, and all. It was worse than being caked in it for the school play in elementary school.

The cabin was reorganized so everything suspicious was in the upper compartment, the opening to which hide away so well he was still surprised it opened at all. They did full inspections of the inside of every car, along with questioning every passenger over the age of four. Excessive? Yeah he thought so, but the federal government had decided privacy was a luxury in the wake of Amity.

Re-dressed, there was about an hour of travel to the crossing now, or there would be, if there wasn’t a line and a slowdown a couple miles out from the actual crossing. So they’d be sitting in traffic, anxiety building, for a good hour before they got to the front themselves.

“You think this is bad? You should the border crossings on the other side of the Mississippi.” The other boy smirked at him, a blonde wig to match Jasmine’s on his head. His own was a dirty blonde, weird dyed tips on the ends like some Bsychonized band member. Ugh, why pop boy band fan? Why couldn’t I get something rock?

“Isn’t this against some law or the Constitution or something?”

“What illegal search and seizures? Yeah the Supreme Court decided that America could bend the fourth amendment if it meant catching us. The only one they don’t compromise on is how many guns everyone can own. Just think! What if an evil, dangerous ghost hybrid showed up in front of you?”

“Yeah, you definitely need to defend yourself with your totally normal bullets.” Nick shifted in his seat next to his brother, itching at cuff the jacket he was wearing.

“Intangibility? What’s that?” Nate quipped back, himself tugging at the cuffs to a similar looking coat.

“Stop that.”

“We hate this fabric.”

“I know, just put up with it for a bit.” Jasmine admonished, leaning closer to a compact as she adjusted her eye makeup so it looked done, but not fresh, like they’d be traveling all day.

“We’re not at the crossing yet.”

“We’ve gotta get new clothes for these weird characters next time.”

“Chill gremlins, they’re going to be retired completely after this.” Daniel resisted the urge to tug at the tag inside of his shirt. He hated these clothes as much as they did. “Look, Elizabeth’s sitting quietly playing Disney Princess. Why don’t you try to get into character. In fact, why don’t you go practice with Danny? He could use the help, and if you do it in the back they’ll be plenty of room too.” He watched his younger sibling’s faces light up when they caught his hint and they started trying to tug a reluctant looking Fenton along. Please, Emperor’s sake, just cooperate. He was going to try another hint, when he saw the other boy wink and ooze his way out of his seat.

“I get it. ‘Go be somewhere I don’t have to look at you for a while’. Well you know what? I’m sick of your shit too dude. I hope you fix your attitude before you have to pretend to like me to the police.” He didn’t even have to act. He hoped whatever was back there was good and distracting until they had to make nice at the crossing. Not that I think he’s really capable of it…

“Ok, so what’s the emergency?” The twins exchange a look before scrambling to the very back of the cabin, carefully pulling out a metal crate from where it was wedged behind a seat.

“So, this is the party supplies,” one of them whispered while scooting it closer to Danny.

“Uh, why isn’t that, you know, upstairs with everything else?” He could feel sweat prickling up his spine at the size of the thing and its contents. They were gonna make him lift this weren’t they?

“Mom inspected everything before we closed upstairs off; she would have noticed this.”

“Ok?”

“Well, how are we gonna hide a surprise party,—” Nate started, tone exasperated.

“—If all the supplies come tumbling out in front of her?” Nick finished, just as annoyed.

“I don’t know! But this can’t stay down here. How are you gonna explain it to the border agents?”

“Oh we’d give up the game way before it got to that, but it doesn’t have to come to spoiling the surprise.”

“Yeah, all you gotta do is sneak this upstairs.” They both smiled at him expectantly.

“Uh, how do you expect me to do that? The entrance is sealed and opening the ladder is super obvious?”

“That’s the best part!” Nick then wandered to the complete end of the cabin and pointed above him. “There’s an emergency hatch right here. So, you can just—”

“—Doesn’t that trigger an alarm?” The youngest Master finally spoke up, having gotten finished setting up a few props to fake practice.

“Yeah, but that’s why they’re distracting mom. Look, they are already being annoying.” Danny did look then, peering over the other kids’ heads to the very front of the RV where the oldest two siblings were engaged in…some conversation with their mom. He supposed that’d have to do.

“Ok so we pop the hatch, I climb up—“

“—Uhhhhh, I didn’t say there’d be a ladder.”

“What.”

“If there was one, we’d be able to do it ourselves.”

“Yeah, it’s not that heavy.” Nate quipped, leaning around the older boy to watch his sister place very useful looking blankets to block the view, loudly announcing they needed a curtain for the ‘theater”. Liz was the best sometimes.

“You gotta climb up into the hatch, and then we can hand the box to you.”

“Cool. So is there anything else I should know? Like, it’s actually a tiny maintenance area and I’ll have to pretzel myself to navigate it. Or wait, is it full of dust and oil or something gross?”

“Nope.” Nick walked over to help his sister pin the last of the blankets in place. It would do for a few minutes before their parents complained about not being able to see what they were doing. To be fair, that was because the last time they were out of sight, him and Nate had made a bomb. It had been a little bomb though, so he thought his parents were overreacting.

“We just have to wait for one of them to, oh, yeah there’s the signal.” Nick motioned back behind him, heading popping back to the other side of their blanket shield. “If we hurry, they won’t even be suspicious.”

“They’ll be suspicious even if we hurry, but they’ll be less suspicious.” Nate said, poking at a panel and flipping a switch inside. The hatch above him slide away, revealing the darkened upstairs of the RV. “Ok, so just climb up and we can pass you the crate.”

“You might want to hurry though. They can only misdirect our parents from that flashing red light for so long.”

Danny looked up at the at the black space above him, before jumping and clinging to the sides of the open hole. He started to pull himself up, before he felt his arms starting to buckle. Oh right, I was supposed to get lunch…Between the gift wrapping, gift hiding, and the stop to change, he’d forgotten and now his muscles were reminding him of that fact. A few seconds of struggling ended with him slipping and ending up on his ass.

“What was that?” Maddie leaned around her oldest children to look at the blanket covered back third of the RV. She’d switched places to let her husband drive when they’d stopped. Experience told them sexist border agents asked less questions when the man was driving.

“Uh,” the twins started together, “nothing! Everything is fine!”

“Very not suspicious you two.” He whispered frantically looking between the crate still on the floor and the yawning black hole above him he was somehow supposed to get it through.

“Silly, you know you can’t fly like Peter Pan, this isn’t real fairy dust!” She giggled loudly to sell the point, and looked down at the teen on the ground. “Hurry up, I don’t think that will work a second time.”

“Right.” Danny said looking up into the blackness above him. “Why don’t I just toss the box through the hole? It’s sealed right?”

“Oh yeah, that’ll make no noise at all. Totally not shady, the loud thumping crash.”

“I get it.” He took a deep breath and jumped back at the opening, ignoring the way his arms protested. He promised himself a sandwich, chips, and soda as soon as this was over, kicking his legs a little as he hauled himself the rest of the way up. “Alright, lift it up.” He crouched near the opening, reaching his hands down towards the other boys. In a moment, the box was in arms reach, and he levered it through the opening and upstairs with him.

Darkness greeted his vision, and he realized with a start he couldn’t see anything. He’d put on a suppressant bracelet before they’d exited the caves this morning. He knew it would suppress his core, but he hadn’t remembered what it was like to have human night vision. It was….upsetting, unnatural. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside him was wrong or broken. Ignoring it as best as he could, he maneuvered through the dark cautiously, stubbing his toe on something hard, suppressing a hiss. Finally, the box was set somewhere away from the hatch, wedged against the wall, and he worked his way back towards the hole.

“Coming down.” He announced before he dropped back through the hatch, thudding-loud landing ringing through the cabin.

“I’m going to come back there if you all don’t take down those blankets right now. You had better not be—”

“—No mom!” The twins exclaimed, Nate punching in the code to close the hatch while everyone else made a run for the blankets they’d pinned up. “We promise, we’re being good.”

“You said the same thing right before you tossed that bomb out the window when you lit it on accident.”

“It was only a little—” “—It blew a 10ft hole in the road Nathaniel.” He blinked when he remembered how big the resulting explosion had been. Ok, so maybe the bomb had been moderate sized instead of small.

“We’re being good, scouts’ honor.”

“Your word is worse than theirs, for reasons I’m sure you understand.” Maddie said with a sigh.

“Dozens of them in the last three or four days even.” Daniel commented. “Hey,” Danny started, walking back to the middle of the RV, “I’ve only been around you like two days.”

“Yes? And I’m sure you were a menace to whoever else you were around before you got to us.” He watched the other teen scowl, before pointedly flopping into a seat and gazing out of a window. The effect was somewhat ruined by the bad haircut on the wig he was wearing. It looked realistic, just ugly, and he was happy he didn’t need to wear it all over again. He glanced out of his own window as he felt the vehicle slow down, traffic picking up as the they neared the crossing. Hopefully, this will be painless…

It was. The agents manning the crossing between Utah and Colorado were underpaid, overworked, and nowhere as fanatical the ones in the South and Midwest. The politicians in this part of the country hated “government excess”, so the lean budgets lead to undermanned crossings.

Now, they were few hours into Utah, the border into Nevada closing in with the setting sun. They’d pull off soon, and then it was just a few minutes of distraction to set up the party. They weren’t stopping in a town for the night, too risky, but after passing the sign for Eskdale, his mother had finally started to relax. She was in the front of the RV alone. His father had been worse than he’d let on, giving up being conscious a little after getting into the state. How he’d managed with the ache of recently healed broken bones and torn core muscles for that long was a mystery.

He eyed his older sister working her way through a Psychology Today magazine, looking worn and eyes red rimmed. She’d been up sixteen hours, but was still trying to power through until the party. He wasn’t much better. The only teen with any pep was their carefully managed disaster, having napped through most of the trek out of the mountains in Colorado. He must have noticed his staring, because now he was glaring in his direction. “I’m not gonna reach into my secret communicator and sell you out the moment you take your eyes off me.”

“Oh that’s not what I’m watching you for.” Let him fill in the blanks. It’ll be fun to watch his meager brain spin in place for a half an hour in paranoia before giving up. Instead, he just shrugged his shoulders and went back to looking out the window. He had to resist the urge to huff, that would have gotten him paranoid, he thought it was a good ploy.

Finally, the RV pulled off the highway, driving off-road away from the stretch of US-70 they’d been on and into the desert. Danny ignored the small bumps, surprised the suspension smoothed out things that well. Before he’d had too much longer to think about it, the vehicle rolled to a stop, settling into the sandy soil in the darkness of the desert night. He heard his not-quite-mother sigh from the driver’s seat, turning the key to shut off the engine.

“We’re done for the day. The plan is to be up early so we can do the crossing around 7am.” He had to grit his teeth to stop the groan threatening to escape. Why were all the travel plans so early? “So, I expect you up around 5am so we can grab breakfast, pack up, and get back on the road. Tomorrow will be easier. We should be done driving before noon; so we’ll rest most of tomorrow afternoon and go over the plans for setting up Camp in The Meadow. We’ll be there soon, so bear with it.” She stood, shaking out the tingles in her legs from sitting for so long. One of these days, I’m going to go numb from the hips down from all this driving. She thought opening the door to the RV. “Go stretch your legs for a bit, we have some time to set up for a late dinner and bed.” She turned to go check on her husband, when she heard him stir from deeper in the RV.

“Come on hun, let’s take a walk.”

“Oh no, you are not walking anywhere. You just fractured one of your legs in two places.”

“It’s already healed, and all this laying down isn’t making it feel better. Just a quick one.”

“Vlad—” “—The stars are pretty this far out in the desert Maddie.” He walked up to her in the front of the RV, managing a pout he thought was pretty cute. He watched give in a deep sigh on her lips.

“Just a few minutes, fifteen, I don’t care how nice the stars are, you need to rest you stubborn man.” She stomped down the steps out of the RV, legs still a little asleep.

“I was good earlier wasn’t I?” He carefully made his way down the stairs after her.

“Oh my god, that’s not enough time! We need to hurry.” Jasmine jumped up, heading towards the back third of the RV for the ladder. She turned to find Danny to her left, a confused look on his face.

“There’s six of us, it can’t take that long.”

“She said fifteen minutes, but that means more like five.” She said taking the ladder rungs two at a time. She grabbed the party supplies from their hiding place in the back and tossed it down at the other teen without looking. “Did you get everything in one crate?”

“Yes, but where did you put Elizabeth’s present, it’s not with the others?” Daniel called out from the midsection, wrapped presents in one arm, and rearranging furniture with the other.

“Third compartment on the left, under the booth seats.” She tossed back, already opening the top of the crate and grabbing supplies from inside. “Gremlins, you need to hang up these lights.” She tossed a tangle of Christmas lights at the two of them, trusting their nimble fingers to undo the knots. “Lizzie, go arrange the presents on the table so it looks cute. You,” she said, looking up at Danny, “dropped this on the ground. There’s way more important things to do than just holding this.” She watched him drop the crate, and tossed a ‘Happy Birthday’ banner at him when his hands were free.

“Where?”

“Across divider between the middle and the sleeping area.”

“The party food?” She threw, a little more forcefully than needed, a couple liters of off-brand soda and bags of chips at her oldest brother. She reached in to grab table settings and rushed to go arrange them on the one that’d been pushed into the middle of the section. She looked up taking in their quick handiwork. Only thing left now is the music player, which can wait, and rest of the streamers. She ran back to grab them tossing them at the other teens so they could be hung higher.

“I think the banner is uneven?”

“It’s fun Elizabeth; it’s artful and on purpose.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Well, we’ll fix it if we have time.” She backed away to the front of the RV, trying to take in how it looked when first entered, the way her mother would see it in just a few minutes. “Ok, it is uneven. Daniel and other Daniel, get over there and even it out.”

“No. Absolutely not. That’s not going to be a thing.”

“Fix the banner you big baby.” She scoffed before watching them try to even up the drape of the banner, uncoordinated, fatigue clearly throwing off their efforts.

“There, it’s perfect.”

“That’s how it looked to begin with!”

“No it didn’t. It was two inches lower on the right side.” Elizabeth helpfully supplied, scooting the table settings this way and that until everything was even. She nodded to herself after things were to her liking, hopping down to survey the rest of the decorations. “Everything else is good too.”

“Good, because I think my arms are gonna—”

“—group huddle everyone. Time to turn off the overhead lights and get ready. We can’t pop out of anywhere, but we’ll say ‘surprise’ anyway? Yes do that.” She muttered the last sentence to herself, rushing back to the middle section, flicking out the power and pulling the curtains as she went. They’d all just gotten settled when she heard her parents’ voices growing nearer.

“I know more sandwiches aren’t great for dinner, but I can’t imagine the kids would like MREs more than PB&J at this…why are the lights off?”

“Surprise!” Everyone yelled when they saw her. No party poppers, but the group yelled loud enough to make up for it.

“Oh my God, what is—is it really—my birthday is today?” She stuttered taking in everything from the skewed fairy lights to the green vinyl tablecloth with gifts on top.

“We knew you might forget, but we had dad distract you just in case.” Jasmine picked up a present and crossed the space to her mother, wiggling it in front of her. “You’ve got to open one of these; we’ve been trying to keep quiet about this all day. Do you know how hard it was keeping something like this secret on the drive?”

“You were in on this?” She turned to smile at her husband before looking at the little ghost print wrapping on her present.

“Only enough to run interference my dear. I didn’t know they had something this grand planned.”

“Come on, there’s one from everyone.” Jasmine said, before dragging her mother closer. Danny watched as the she slid into a seat in front of the table with her gifts. His eyes roamed over the food—chips, soda, and even cupcakes—and presents feeling happy his suggestion had come to fruition. He was content, until he realized he was the only one who didn’t have a present on the table. It struck him all at once how out of place he was again, and the queasiness he’d been fighting all day was back.

That’s right. Presents from everyone whose supposed to be here. He thought skirting around the outside of the group, angling for the door. He slipped out into the quickly chilling desert night. He forgot how much the cold bothered him before his powers, and the absurdity of the situation all boiled over in his mind. He heard his not-quite-mother laugh, questioning what ‘this was supposed to be’, and he decided to take a walk. The stars were nice in the desert right?

That thought had driven him a few hundred yards away. Not far enough that he couldn’t find his way back, but enough so that he didn’t have to hear the revelry and 80’s music pouring out of the speakers in the RV. His mood had soured the further he’d walked from the group, until he’d found a rock to sit on. He glanced up. Vlad was right; the stars were magnificent this far out. The desert skies were free of light pollution, and there was not a cloud to be found now that the sun had set. Above him thousands of twinkling stars spilled across the inky firmament like diamondsembedded over the darkest volcanic rock he’d ever see. He could name a dozen constellations, see the Milky Way, even pick out fainter, redder stars that appeared as his eyes adjusted. He lamented not having his enhanced night vision, the sky would look breathtaking then, he was sure.

Still, the peace and stillness helped settle his stomach, even as it wearied his limbs. Maybe I can sleep out under the stars and head back to the torture chamber in the morning? No sooner had he thought it, than he dismissed it. They’d be looking for him soon. As if the universe could read his thoughts, he heard someone trudging up behind him through the sand. “The party get boring already? Didn’t think it’d need me for entertainment.”

“I’d wondered where you’d gone.”

“Daniel miss his punching bag that much?” “Has my son really been that persnickety all day?”

“If you mean ‘a royal pain in my ass’ then yeah Vlad, all day. Even when I stopped giving into his bait. So is he bored or—”

“—No. We were just worried.”

“You were just concerned I was going to signal the GSU again somehow.” He scuffed his shoe against the rock he was sitting on and leaned his head farther back, taking in the expanse of the sky.

“No. I’m going to have to have a talk to him.” The eldest halfa plopped next to him on the stone. “I was concerned because you disappeared twenty minutes ago, and we were going to break into the cupcakes, but you were nowhere to be found. That seemed odd. Then, Elizabeth mentioned she saw you sneak off right after the party began.”

“Yup.” He looked into the horizon, he could make out the silhouette of rock plateaus in the distance against the stars.

“Do you want to talk—”

“—How did you marry my mom anyway?” He’d been dying to ask for a day, but he didn’t want to hear whatever version came out of anyone else’s mouth.

“Is that really what you want to talk about right now?”

“Yes.” He deadpanned, eyes still fixed on the horizon.

“Well, alright.” He agreed after a moment of staring. “After you left, I took your advice. I forgave Jack, at least internally. I tried my hardest to smother the grudge I had. Things…got worse between him and your mother after he came back from that small fight you saw about money.”

“That was a small fight?”

“Compared to the rest of them? Yes.” He sighed, rubbing at the ache in his left leg where the new bone had grown back in the last day.”

“Your knees bugging you old man?”

“Har har, just the last of the twinges from that fracture healing.” He saw the other half-ghost wince, quickly looking away from his general direction and back towards the sky. “I’ll be fine Danny.”

“Where’s the rest of the story?”

“Hm, well as you can guess, they divorced soon after. Especially after he, uh, you know I’ll skip that bit. The important part is, I didn’t antagonize him, and since I wasn’t busy being frustrated with him, it was easy for me to just be supportive. They didn’t get divorced immediately you know, and I know I would have taken out how long the separation was taking on her if I hadn’t let the Jack stuff go. We got together soon after the divorce papers were signed.”

“I guess haunting the place like the ghost you are finally paid off for you.”

“I’m going ignore your sniping, little badger, you’re clearly upset at someone else.”

“Uh no. I’m annoyed at you too.”

“What did I do?”

“You weren’t supposed to marry her dude. You were just supposed to stop trying to kill my dad all the time and, I don’t know, be normal?”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You told me you’d never exist if I didn’t forgive Jack, and then I did and Maddie and him divorced and we got together and,” he sighed brushing his hair out of his face from where the wind had mussed it. “As far as I knew, you were my son; it made the most sense. Why else ask for me instead of Jack and Maddie?”

“I was just trying to get into their house! I didn’t know what else to say. Just, now everything is fucked. How did I make this worse? Forgiveness is supposed to be good for you!” He threw up his hands before scrunching up into a ball. Why was time stuff so difficult?

“Well, it was good for me.” The older halfa commented before turning to look at the younger hybrid, “are things really that much worse?” He waited in the cold and dark for the answer, a gloomy pall hanging over the air between them.

“Do you hate me?” It wasn’t an answer, he hadn’t even meant to say it, but now that it was out, he realized it was the only thing he wanted to know.

“Hate you? No, I don’t-I don’t think anyone here hates you.”

“That’s not what it feels like.”

“He can’t have been that caustic.”

“It’s not just him. Jazz hates me, Daniel obviously does, the twins, I think my mom even does. Just maybe not Elizabeth, but she’s like five so she probably doesn’t hate anything but broccoli or something.

“I’m not even sure I hate Jack, and he’s done a lot worse than you.” He paused and leaned over to wrap his arm around the teen’s shoulders. “Everyone is wound up, scared, tired, and hurt. But no one here hates you, especially not me.” He leaned closer when he felt the other male’s shoulder shake with quiet sobs. “I owe you everything. My family is my whole world Danny; I’d do anything for them.” He hugged him tighter for a moment before continuing. “That’s why I forgave Jack for you.”

“You thought I was your kid.”

“I thought that after the fallout happened. Before…” He trailed off to ruffle his hair. “I’d always wanted a little brother.” He looked up at the sky, taking in the expanse of the stars. “Even if they hate you, I promise I do not and I never will. No matter what, you’re stuck with me kid.” The other halfa didn’t respond, just sniffed a few more times before leaning back to watch the skies with him again. This far out, you could even see meteors falling. He wished on the next one the rest of the trip went well.

...then you should have checked the guest list.

[moeyy-writes]

Fear

Zak Bagans x Reader

Warnings: Typical investigation content (bad feelings like fear and dread, mention of violent historical events including murder), mention of violent/threatening thoughts, being negatively affected by an entity, a hint of angst here and there, brief hints of sexual activities, fluff.

Word Count: 3,294

A/N: This story just came to me randomly while I was watching the show on my day off from work. Please read the warnings carefully. This story (at least in my opinion) is a bit emotionally heavy.

My Master List

Nothing about this location felt right. The interviewees Zak had talked to earlier that day all warned the team about an entity that affects men, especially those with what they referred to as ‘strong personalities’. The moment you walked into the room called The Grand Parlor, you felt sick to your stomach, but didn’t say anything. The energy in the dusty, hundred-year-old building was thick with dread and fear. Little did you know that those feelings would follow you into the night.

As the sun went down, while you, Jay, and Billy were setting up nerve center, those feelings were coming back full-force. You couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong. And, if anything, you weren’t the one who was usually spooked. In the two years you had been a part of the team, you had quickly earned yourself the nickname of “The Debunker”. You were definitely the most skeptical of the group, and usually threw weird feelings out the window.

However, today, these feelings came on like a speeding train, and didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Now, you were able to confirm the exact same feeling in the same building for a second time. Coincidence, maybe, but unlikely.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Jay asked quietly from beside you. Apparently, you had stilled while holding one of the X-camera cords. You cleared your throat and nodded, before picking up the X-camera in front of you.

The camera you were in charge of setting up was going in one of the main bedrooms of the manor, where the late patriarch of the family had, according to legend, murdered his young wife in cold blood. That was also the space where three other male investigators had become affected by a forceful entity. One of them even blamed an attachment from that very room for ending his marriage.

When you were filming Zak and an interviewee in that room, you had been overcome with fear, and had to pass the camera to Billy and quietly excuse yourself. That was the first time in your history on the show that something like that had ever happened to you. When Zak asked what happened, you said that you had a sudden dip in blood sugar from not eating lunch. When he kept asking questions, you kept brushing them off, even though you were terrified of what may have been happening to you.

You were stubborn, so you pressed on. You made your way to the steps that led up to the bedroom where you were going to place the X-camera. The moment you passed through the chestnut doorframe, your stomach sank even further.

“Holy shit,” you muttered to yourself as you entered the room. The air around you was electric, like there was a thunderstorm right over your head. You sucked in a deep breath and carried on, trying to find a logical explanation for the feeling in the back of your mind.

Once you placed the X-camera in its spot, you had an idea. You pulled out an EMF meter from the small bag beside the camera you turned it on. You slowly followed the walls of the room, lingering in doorways and corners of the room, searching for a live energy source. According to the owners, there was no power in the building, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something explainable causing an electro-magnetic disturbance.

“Nothing,” you whispered in defeat as you shut off the device. How the hell was that possible. You felt like you had just shuffled over a carpet in your socks, ready to zap the next person to cross your path. Weird.

The moment you slipped the device back into the bag, you heard footsteps behind you. You spun on your heels only to find Jay standing in the doorway. Your best friend studied you, his eyes filled with concern.

“Dude, what’s happening, Y/N? You’re acting weird.” He wasn’t wrong. You felt weird, which in itself was a super foreign feeling for you. And, you weren’t exactly the stealthiest person, especially when something was bothering you.

“I-I dunno, Jay. This building has such a weird vibe to it. I feel something in here. I checked the whole room with the EMF detector, but got nothing. Zip. But I feel like a live wire.” You raked your fingers through your hair and sighed. “Not to mention the horrible feeling of dread in here. It must be from knowing the shit that went down in this room.”

“Well, we all have our locations that affect us more than others. Maybe we finally found yours?” Jay shrugged, obviously trying to calm you.

“Guess so.” You nodded, not really wanting to talk about it anymore. Your part of the set up was done. Now, it was time to gather and begin the lockdown.

As you expected, this location was absolutely alive. Aaron got a threatening EVP within fifteen minutes of starting the lockdown, and a huge bang spooked Billy enough to almost send him pummeling down the stairs. Zak even got a few voices from what sounded like the same person while using the spirit box. It was compelling stuff, but that lingering feeling of dread was still weighing on you as you sat with Jay at nerve center.

After the guys returned to nerve center for a quick break, they all went over their findings with you and Jay. You tried to debunk what they found, but this location was presenting quite the challenge. The EVPs had tone, and the voice on the spirit box spoke at least three or four times, the same voice over multiple sweeps. Even the bang came from a small room with no furniture, leaving you scratching your head.

“Guys, this place is insane,” you gasped as you leaned back in your chair. “I-I don’t have a good explanation of any on this. I mean, the bang could have been a loose floor board finally giving way, but that was really loud.” Zak grinned from his seat beside you.

“Well, babe, maybe that’s because there’s something or someone haunting this place,” Zak teased. You glared over at him, then rolled his eyes.

“I can see that, Z.” You narrowed your gaze, then nudged his arm playfully.

“See, your weird feelings were right!” Jay announced, causing you to freeze. You hadn’t said anything to the others about your feelings about the place, and you honestly didn’t want them to know. You wanted to find a good reason behind it, and not feed into it.

You glared over at Jay, wishing he hadn’t said anything.

“Wait, what feelings?” Zak interrogated, practically leaping out of his chair. “You felt something? You?” You closed your eyes for a moment, then nodded.

“The moment I walked into the place, I felt like my stomach was flipping. Like you’re waiting for something to jump out and scare you. It’s like dread and fear, especially in that bedroom upstairs where the woman was murdered.” You met Zak’s gaze, then Aaron’s, and the rest of the crew. Even at nerve center in the RV, outside of the building, you could feel something bothering you. So, the last thing you wanted was to go back into that house.

And it was almost like Zak knew that.

“Y/N, maybe the woman who was killed in there is somehow connected to you, and that’s why you’re feeling that way.” You couldn’t disagree with him. There was no other conclusion that you could confirm, or even think of at that point. So, Zak’s next words didn’t surprise you.

“Babe, how about you come in with me and we check out that bedroom—”

“Woah, Zak! We’re in the middle of a lockdown, dude.” You rolled your eyes. Oh, leave it to the adorable Aaron Goodwin.

“No, Aaron, I’m serious. The woman was murdered in that room. Maybe she’ll reach out to another woman. If a bunch of men go in there, she might feel threatened and not want to reach out.” You didn’t really want to do this, but you knew at this point you had no choice. Plus, if the spirit of the woman was in that room, she may reach out to you, and that may lead to some amazing evidence.

“Fine,” you sighed. “Let’s go.” Zak grinned, pushed his glasses back up his nose, then led the way out of the RV.

Billy stood in the doorway filming Zak and you as you both stood in the bedroom. Your stomach swirled and flipped while you held the spirit box in your hand. The echoes of the rapid sweeps filled the room as you leaned against a small dresser.

“Is the woman who was killed in the room here with us?” you asked into the room. Zak stood beside the bed holding the SLS camera towards you.

“Are you still afraid? Even now that you’ve died?” The sweeps continued without voices. “Because I can feel that fear. The fear you felt. And I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“He’s here.”

The female voice came through quickly, but clearly. Your arms filled with goosebumps the moment those words entered the air.

“Who is here?” you shouted over the echoing noise.

“Him.”

The voice came through as a low growl. You jumped back a little, then peered up at Zak.

“What the fuck was that?” you gasped, keeping your eyes on Zak. The feelings you had from the beginning were now plaguing you tenfold, and you were almost positive you were going to puke. You felt like you needed to get out of the room immediately. It almost felt like something was coming after you and you needed to run for your life.

“Zak, I need to leave. I can’t be in here anymore,” you rasped, starting to panic. “I can’t breathe.” You turned for the door, but were met by the broad chest of your boyfriend blocking your path. You stared up at him, barely able to see his face through the faint light that came through the window.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Billy asked from the other side of the doorway. He held the camera up, but the barely visible look on his face was wrought with concern.

Your heart galloped in your chest as you reached up and pressed a firm hand on Zak’s chest. Something was affecting him, and you knew you needed to get the two of you out. You swallowed the immense fear that overcame you and focused on getting through to Zak.

“Zak, please let me leave.” You stared up at the faint features of his face. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word. His brow was lightly furrowed behind the frames of his glasses, and his eyes were cold. You held your hand firm against Zak’s chest and lifted your head up ever so slightly, asserting yourself.

“Whoever if affecting Zak, you need to leave him alone. I’m not afraid of you. We aren’t afraid of you. You can’t bully people anymore.” You watched as Zak’s face contorted slightly behind his respirator mask. He released a low groan from deep in his chest.

“Leave me alone!” he shouted to whoever was affecting him. Your theory was that it was the man who committed murder in the room, who was mad that there was another woman in there. He may have attached to Zak knowing that you two were a couple. He was probably mad that a woman was standing up to him. And you sure as hell weren’t going to back down.

“Y/N, I need to get out of here,” Zak almost pleaded as he turned away from you and took a step towards Billy. There was still something very wrong, but you let him go, hoping that once he left the building he would be okay. Billy moved to the side, allowing Zak to leave, then ran back in to collect the SLS camera from the bed where Zak had dropped it. You turned back to the dresser where you had left the spirit box so you could turn it off.

“Leave here.”

You froze in place, feeling Billy peering over your shoulder. He gasped as the female voice spoke those words. Your eyes filled with tears as you began to speculate. The woman was trying to protect you.

“They want us to leave,” Billy concluded. They didn’t have to tell you twice. You quickly turned off the spirit box, then booked it out of there with Billy on your heels.

Zak sat in the RV beside Aaron with his head in his hands. Without even looking at his face, you could tell he was close to tears as he sat hunched over on one of the chairs. You approached him, noticing Aaron’s hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” you breathed as you crouched down in front of him and rested your wrists on his knees. “Zak, talk to me.”

Of course he was upset that he was affected by a spirit. He was usually emotional and drained after something like that. But this time, he seemed way more upset than drained. You reached up to peel one of his hands from his face.

“Zak, tell me what’s going through you head right now.” You had grown very accustomed to soothing the team members after something scary like this, being the one who was usually settled at base camp. Even the fearless leader needed comforting after a long night. But, he had never been affected while having you as the target of his rage.

“When we were in that room, I got these horrible flash images of violence and rage.” He sighed, lowering his other hand, but not looking at you. You took the other hand in yours, trying your best to keep from shaking yourself.

“What kind of images, Zak? Were they violent? Towards me?” Zak just nodded his answer, making you feel sick again. It had to have been the man who murdered his wife in that room. You were positive. And you knew he was thinking the same thing.

“I stood there and I just wanted too—” He sucked in a breath, very clearly trying to hold back tears. “I wanted to snap your neck.”

“Woah, dude,” Aaron gasped from beside Zak. He rubbed gentle circles into his best friend’s shoulder. “It was that man putting those images in your head, man. It wasn’t you.” You nodded in agreement, then peered back to Zak, who was now looking at you. His eyes were red and glassy with tears that threatened to fall.

“It made me think of hurting you. It made me want to hurt you. To kill you.” Zak started to shake his head. “I’ve never even thought I could ever imagine hurting you. And just seeing that so vividly in my head—” Zak lowered his head again. Tears finally broke through, landing on the dark fabric of his pants.

“Hey, it wasn’t you, love,” you whispered to him as you squeezed both of his hands. “I know it wasn’t. That’s why I confronted him. I needed to stand my ground.” Zak shuddered and closed his eyes.

“I don’t ever want to think about hurting you again. I want those thoughts to go away. I want that sick fucking feeling to go away.” Zak grit his teeth, then relaxed.

You tilted your head, trying to recapture his gaze. “Zak, look at me.” He slowly lifted his head. “Those weren’t your thoughts. I know you would never hurt me.” Your palm gently met his cheek. The sparse stubble tickled your skin.

“That was so fucked up,” he breathed out, finally offering you a ghost of a smile. You returned the gesture and leaned your forehead against his.

“Guys,” you announced to the room, “I think we’re done for the night. It’s almost five in the morning. Do you mind giving us some space?”

“Yeah, we’ll go take down the equipment,” Jay responded, before heading for the door. The others followed him out, leaving you alone with Zak.

You pulled your head back a little, staring into the haunted blue eyes before you. Zak was rarely this vulnerable, so whatever he saw in his mind must have really gotten to him. He was normally a bit protective of you, happy that you preferred to be at nerve center most of the time. That’s where you could see everything as it happened and would be able to debunk it quickly. When you did go in on an investigation, you were usually with Jay or Aaron in a place where there weren’t as many violent occurrences.  

So, this whole thing was way out of both of your comfort zones. And, you could tell that Zak felt guilty for sending you in.

“Zak, I love you. Please don’t be upset about all of this. None of this was your fault.” You cupped his jaw in your hands. “I agreed to go in with you, despite how I felt about the place. And, you didn’t hurt me. You may have imagined it, or thought about it, but you didn’t hurt me. Even though you were strongly affected, you didn’t even touch me.” Zak nodded lightly, covering your hands with his. “I know it sounds cheesy and ridiculous, but it must have been your love that kept you from being fully affected by this horrible entity. And, well, that means a heck of a lot to me.”

Zak huffed a laugh and smiled. “Yeah, the power of love. Cheeseball.” You both giggled with each other, holding each other close. You folded your legs under you so you could kneel on the ground. Then, you leaned in, closing the distance between you and Zak.

You had been with Zak for a while now, and every kiss with him was better than the last. But, this kiss was different. A warm electricity filled you as he pulled you closer, almost clinging onto you for dear life. As cheesy as it really did sound, you were absolutely right about Zak. His deep love for you kept his mind clear enough for him to not follow through on whatever he was feeling in that room. It felt pretty darn good that Zak Bagans, the smart, handsome, and honestly a bit cocky, leader of Ghost Adventures loved you that deeply.

Zak’s lips devoured yours, like this kiss was all that was keeping you there. His hands reached for your arms, your shoulders. One finally found its home on the side of your neck, the other cradling the back of your head. He slowly guided you onto his lap, never breaking contact.

Zak broke his grip and lowered his hands to your waist, tugging you against his form. Nothing about his touch was sexual. He was desperate for closeness, as were you, pleading with each other to never let go. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders while your noses gently brushed.

With a deep sigh, Zak finally pulled away. He felt lighter, happier. You could tell that he was back to his normal self.

“How ya feelin’, handsome?” you whispered. Zak sniffled lightly and smiled.

“A lot better.” He cleared his throat. He reached up and rubbed a red mark that was left over the bridge of his nose from his respirator mask. “I never want that to happen again.”

You nodded. “Well, I don’t know if either of us can guarantee that. But, I’m here now.” You kissed the small red mark.

“I love you,” he muttered under his breath. You ran your fingers through his hair, then stood, extending a hand.

“I love you too, Zak.” He took your hand and stood. “C’mon, let’s go help the others.”

Thanks for reading. Feedback is appreciated! <3

[soniaxdixon]

The New World; Series Pt 2

Okay so this is my first time writing a fic and obviously will be my first series but I’ve just rewatched TWD for like the 17th time and my obsession with Daryl has reached new levels. I hope that it isn’t too shit and that you guys actually read/like it. Thank you in advance for baring with my average writing but I mean, how else will I learn? Anyway, enjoy!

Sonia x

Set pre to early season 1, back story for when the world ended.

Part 2 of ??

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger hot headed sister. When Rick gets shot and falls into a coma, Y/N’s world ends. Y/N Finds herself at a quarry near Atlanta with her nephew carl, sister in law Lori and her best friend Glenn where she meets her new family including the equally hot headed redneck Daryl Dixon. Over time Y/N and Daryl begin to form a friendship, finally allowing one another to open up to someone and maybe finding someone they can actually love.

Warnings! Slowish burn but the feels are there from the start, swearing, A little angst. 

Words; 1774

This part focuses more on Season 1 Episode 3 ‘Tell it to the frogs’ We have a little reunion and start to explore Daryl and y/n’s relationship a bit more. - Sorry in advance if there are any errors, I didn’t really edit it properly

Like every morning, you were woken up by the sounds of your friends talking outside and the morning light forcing your eyes open. You rose, got dressed and stepped out of your tent your heart jumping when a big figure grabbed your shoulder suddenly, without warning.

“Jesus fucking christ, Daryl. A little heads up that you’re behind me next time? Shit.”

The ends of his lips curled into a small smile that made your stomach flip with butterflies. The power this man had over you already was immense. “M’ goin’ huntin’, shouldn’t be too long. Let Merle know if he gets back.” And with that, he was gone, not even giving you a chance to respond, his crossbow over his shoulder, hastily making his way into the woods. You couldn’t help but stare until his figure finally disappeared among the trees.

You looked over and saw Carl getting his haircut by Lori. He locked eyes with you and mumbled a plea for help. You shook your head and laughed at his suffering face. Catching on to the end of their conversation, you sat down next to Shane who was cleaning his gun.

“Frogs, plural”

“Why do we need ‘Frogs, plural?’” Carl questioned

You zoned out for a second, looking off in the direction Daryl had headed. Your mind suddenly racing. What happens if he comes across a walker? What happens if he comes across lots of walkers. Did he have a gun or just his crossbow? Why did he go alone?

“What do you think, Y/N?” Shane’s voice broke you from your silent panic.

You just stared at him for a second and he read your confusion, he knew you had a habit of zoning out. “Cajun style kermit legs, what do you think?”

“Oh, gross. No thanks.” Your face contorted with the thought of eating frog legs cooked by Shane. “You can keep your frog legs, I’d rather eat dirt.”

Your conversation was halted by the sudden sound of a car alarm.

“What the fuck?” You questioned, your eyes focusing on Shane.

“Talk to me, Dale?” Shane leapt from his seat and made his way over to the RV

You stood next to Shane, your arms crossed protectively across your chest.

The car sped up the hill suddenly screeching to a halt, Glenn climbing out of the drivers seat instantly being hounded by questions and yelling.

“My sister, is she okay?” Amy asked glenn over and over.

“Yes, she’s fine, everybody is. Merle not so much.”

Your stomach dropped quickly at the thought of Merle not being okay. What would you tell Daryl?

You turned and shuffled quickly towards your tent, climbing inside and finding your water bottle. You sat down for a few minutes, taking steady drinks. Poor Daryl you thought to yourself. You knew what it was like to lose a brother. You were drawn from your thoughts by the sound of a truck pulling up. Exiting your tent again you made your way over to Lori and Carl, placing your hands on the boys shoulders.

Everyone was reuniting and for a second, everyone was happy. You felt Carl’s shoulders begin to shake as he started sobbing. Lori knelt down and comforted him as he cried again for his dad.

“How’d y’all get out of there anyway?” Shane asked

“New guy, he got us out”

“Hey helicopter boy, come say hello. Guy’s a cop, just like you.”

You looked up at Morales’s words and felt your knees turn in. Tears filled your eyes as he stood there in front of you.

“Holy shit” was all that came out of your mouth before you saw carl running past you

“Dad!”

You’ve never seen the boy run so fast as Rick pulled him to the ground in a hug. Picking him up and walking to Lori. Your heart swelling with love as he let go of them and his eyes found you.

“Oh my God.” He uttered as he grabbed you and you finally allowed your knees to drop. He held you up as he hugged you, tighter than you have ever hugged before. You had him back. The only thing that could keep you calm. Your big brother was alive.

That night you sat around a fire and listened to Rick talk about his experience. Waking up in the hospital only to find the world had fallen apart. They spoke about Merle, how he was handcuffed to a roof in Atlanta, how T-Dogg had dropped the key, how they would have to tell Daryl.

You couldn’t think about it anymore, you pushed yourself off he ground and leaned down, placing a kiss on Carl’s forehead and hugging your brother one more time for the day.

You walked over to your tent and went to sleep for the night. As usual, the only thing on your mind was Daryl but tonight, it wasn’t the usual thoughts of what it would be like if you were together. Tonight they were thoughts flooded with worry.

————

You scrambled for your clothes in the morning, pulling on some blue jeans and a black tee, pushing your way out of your tent and over to your group. The sudden sound of screaming had you running before you could even register what it was, pulling your knife from its sheath you sprinted towards the sound.

“Carl?” You yelled, Lori’s voice followed yours with the same question as she and rick ran behind you.

Lori grabbed him, “Nothing bit you, nothing scratched you?”

You ran with rick and the others to the source of the screaming. A lone walker feasting on a big deer. A deer with bolts in its side. The men began to beat the walker, forcing it to the ground before Dale cut its head off.

Sudden rustling drew you from your thoughts as you watched the bush intently.

“Son of a bitch, that’s my deer” the southern drawl all too familiar. “Look at it all gnawed on by this, filthy, disease bearin’, motherless, poxy bastard.”

You followed him back into the camp as he yelled out for his brother, “Merle! Get your ugly ass out here, got us some squirrels”

“Daryl, slow up a bit, I need to talk to you” with the words that Shane said, your stomach began to churn.

“Bout what?”

“Bout Merle, there was a problem in Atlanta.”

“He dead?” Daryl asked, you could see the panic etching his face slowly.

“Not sure.” Shane answered

“He either is or he ain’t” obvious venom dripped from his words as he stared at Shane, waiting for his next answer.

Your eyes turned to Rick as he stepped in suddenly, “no easy way to say this so I’ll just say it.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Rick Grimes”

“Rick Grimes” Daryl mocked “You got something you wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked to a piece of metal”

Before you knew it, things escalated. Daryl threw the squirrels and pulled out a knife.

Within seconds the knife was on the floor and Shane had daryl in a choke hold. You couldn’t control yourself and you threw yourself at Shane, hitting his back, “Let go of him” You were grabbing at his shirt trying to pull him off when Glenn grabbed your arms as you struggled against him.

“Fucking let him go Shane or I’ll cut your fucking hands off.” At this point Glenn was forcing his hand over your mouth to shut you up and you finally complied when Shane let Daryl out of the choke hold.

You stormed off to your tent so you wouldn’t react again. Thoughts raced through your head. Why the hell did you do that, what on earth possessed you? You and Daryl had hardly spoken and yet you were suddenly threatening one of your closest friends just so he would let him go. Get your head on straight Y/N, Daryl’s gonna think you’re a crazy bitch now.

About 30 minutes later, Rick headed over to your tent to check on you, you had calmed down at this point but you were still pissed at Shane.  “I’m taking, Daryl, Glenn and T-Dogg back into Atlanta to get Merle.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

“No, I want you to stay here.”

You snapped “What the hell is with everyone thinking they have say in where I go.”

“I want you here in case something happens, You’ve taken care of Lori and Carl since the start and I need to know you will protect them while I’m gone.”

Your eyes softened as you shot him an apologetic look.  “Where’s Daryl?”

“He’s in his tent, packing his bag.”

You squeezed ricks shoulder and found yourself walking to the edge of your camp, to Daryl’s tent.

“Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Why the hell would ya even care? Just leave me be” He was obviously hurt and his tone stung you.

“Geez okay, sorry for checking on you, prick.” You mumbled the last word walking away before his hand grabbed your shoulder, sending chills down your back as he quickly pulled away.

“M’ sorry. Thanks for checking.”

You just looked at him but your face eased out of the scowl you had before hand.

“Why’d ya jump on Shane like that before? I thought that asshole was your friend.”

“Yeah kinda. We grew up together, he Rick and I. He’s just kinda always been a part of my life ya know. When I thought I lost Rick, he became an even bigger part and I think seeing him dismiss your brother like he was nothing riled me up because I know what its like to lose a brother. I was just lucky enough that mine came back somehow.”

Daryl never broke eye contact with you, watching as slight tears stung your eyes when you thought about losing Rick. “You’re gonna find him. He’ll be fine and you’ll bring him back.” He just continued to look at you as his mind raced with thoughts. This was the longest that you two had spoken, you were actually telling him something about yourself and something in his chest felt like it was on fire. You reached out and he flinched slightly, you put your hand carefully on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay Daryl, You’ll be okay.” You gently squeezed as you turned around to head back towards your tent.

You heard him barely whisper “Thanks.”

“Come back in one piece please.” You whispered back, just loud enough that he could hear you and the fire in his chest grew.

[thatoneao3writer]

kinda ironic that today someone sent in an ask about Ponk and Sam and Ponk loosing his arm cause last night i was going through your older posts and you said Ponk was trapped with Pandora’s Warden for a week when he was just supposed to test out new security features

so, because we both seem to be addicted to angst here are my ideas, feel free to add on, and it might not all work depending on whatever timeline you have set up, but anyway,

after the Titans first showed up and a bunch of superpower villains rose against them, the government decided to create a prison specifically for super powered villains. and while the titans were not directly involved with building or design of the prison, they were asked to create a security protocol specifically to stop people from leaving

so, Sam spends like an entire month only working on this robot that could learn and protect itself from any ability. the rest of the tt were getting worried cause Sam was spending more time on this robot than actually stopping bad guys, and they were worried he would become a little corrupted by the parts

so, when Ponk sees away to get Sam out of the house by testing it, before it was done and while there were many ways to turn it off if something went wrong, Sam agrees ( btw they’re not dating yet, they just really like each other )

the gov told the tt that the prison wasn’t done yet, so there would be no security cameras or any sort of recordings or calls to connect to ( and totally not because the gov didn’t want to add these things so they could do whatever they wanted inside but never get charged for anything cause they had no footage ), but Sam made sure to double check that Pandora had extra video cameras to make sure that everything would be ok

it was also completely empty, perfect for a controlled environment, and they were in the least secure room in case something bad happened, because Pandora does have access to everything in the prison

so, Ponk walks inside very clearly showing his hero outfit, and probably scans for some sort of identification that he can be there. then he walks by without scanning and looking real sus, and Pandora activated, it doesn’t do anything yet cause Sam is in complete control

they do a couple more tests to see what activates the robot, and decide to pack up for the night, planning to test it every week until it’s done

so Sam and Ponk finish bringing things to the rv and Ponk goes back inside to get Pandora while Sam makes sure everything is secure, then everything goes wrong

when Ponk is still inside, every door to the prison shuts and locks, leaving Ponk in the most secure part of the prison, cause the door they were using goes through all the more secure parts before ending up in the less secure parts

remember, everything to monitor Pandora is in the car, but Sam goes he can hack in with a small tablet and see what is going on inside, which only takes about 10 minutes to get full video and sound

Pandora is currently peaceful cause Ponk is wearing his hero costume, so he’s fine for now, bus Sam is still looking around for anything to get him out before he has a panic attack when he finds Ponk’s keycard in his pocket, meaning that if Pandora were to forget what Ponk is supposed to be wearing, then he would be stuck with no identification

Sam calls the rest of the titans and they show up in a matter of minutes ( cause, remember, this was a while ago so Bad couldn’t create portals, he can’t even create portals for anyone other than himself at this point, no one else could physically go through )

at this point, it’s been over 6 hours and there are no developments, Sam still can’t crontrol anything Pandora does but at least it still recognizes Ponk as a good guy

Sam isn’t leaving the prison, so the titans are bringing him food and water and stuff, and Ponk found a cafeteria which is filled with food and bathrooms so he’ll be fine for a while

around hour 10 something changes, Pandora sees Ponk as a target, but because Pandora is the only way Ponk can talk to Sam he doesn’t want to leave, assuming that because it didn’t attack him before, he’ll be fine

Sam, who is sitting with Puffy at the time, sees Pandora start to regret Ponk and gets really scared, it only gets worse when he can’t turn it off like last time, and because he has no control over it whatsoever, anything could happen

the. the screen freezes on Ponk realizing what is going on, then it cuts completely

wow, um this is kinda long so it’s gonna be multiple parts ( 1 / 3 ) - 🦕

oh god oh god oh god- /pos

[baseballbitch116]

Stay At Camp(1.2)

Your Walking Dead - Daryl Dixon Interactive Love Story

Introduction: Follow along on your journey with Daryl and the others throughout the series... You choose your actions... Will you end up with Daryl? YOU have the power to decide that!

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader

Setting: Atlanta camp - before Rick has joined (S1E2-3)

Word Count: 3263

Series Warnings: Gore, violence, strong language, potentially triggering content, sexual themes, death, mentions of drug/alcohol consumption and abuse...

Chapter Warnings: Violence, gore, death, strong language, angst,

A/N: I’d just like to note that I used a lot of true dialogue from the show, which does not belong to me; however, Y/N and the rest of the writing does.

Masterlist

Send Me A Request! | Series Masterlist

“What’s going on?” You ask Glenn as he passes you. “Going on a run. Wanna come?” He asks, stopping and turning to look at you.

You had never gone with them on a run before, what exactly do you do? Would you just get in the way? But then again, you’ve been wanting to find a way to pull your weight… What should you do?

~~~

“Uhh, nah... I’ll stay back.” You respond with uncertainty. You feel slightly guilty, but you just don’t think that you’re ready to go out there just yet. Glenn nods and shoots you a reassuring smile before turning and heading toward the others. With a sigh, you head the opposite way to help out with some cleaning.

Your mind is preoccupied for most of the remainder of the day, wandering between your insecurities or fears, sometimes to different terrible scenarios that could be taking place on that run. Trying to keep yourself busy was the only was that you managed to stay sane - so that was what you did. You helped Amy clean and gut the fish her and her sister caught earlier in the day, tidied up the RV, helped Shane gather firewood, asked Carol to try to teach you how to sew, and even assisted the kids with homework - seeing as you were recently graduated from college with a degree in education.

The day drug by slowly, but eventually the sun set and everyone gathered around the fire Shane set up in to eat. It was a simple meal of canned beans and canned soup, each of you getting small portions in order to feed everyone. You sat beside Amy as you spooned at your food, listening to Dale explain his reasoning behind adjusting his watch every morning. You lent against the log that the others sat on, not overly concerned with dirtying your shorts, as you and the women wash clothes every morning.

This certainly wasn’t a meal that you would have eaten a few weeks ago - not only did beans and soup not go together, but you really steered clear of the weird mushy food. You wished you had a nice cheeseburger or bowl of Fettuccine right now - but that was a luxury that no longer existed. It was not easy to cook meals in a pot over a fire, with minimal ingredients and two dozen people to feed.

You chuckle as Dale finishes his story, taking one more spoonful of the beans into your mouth as you listen to the others speak. Your eyes wandered to Carol and her family gathered around their own smaller fire off to the side - grimacing at the sight. You liked Carol and Sophia a lot - but Ed was another story. The man wanted nothing to do with the rest of the group, contributed less than nothing, and was very obviously abusive toward his wife. You also took notice of the fact that once again, Daryl was not here.

Typically, Daryl would bring back whatever he killed, cook it up and take his plate off to his tent to eat alone. You had not seen him eat alongside the rest of the group before, it made you curious. Why did he insist on being alone? Today, he was still out hunting, having only returned for an hour or so earlier before heading back into the woods. You couldn’t help but worry - he was alone in the woods in the night. Still, it wasn’t your place to worry. The man had probably spoken a total of two words to you since meeting him - if that - you were by no means friends.

You are drawn out of your thoughts when you spot Shane standing up, approaching Ed and Carol over at their fire. Some of the group watch as the others try to mind their business as Shane asks Ed to keep the fire low, so they can’t be seen from far away. You clench your spoon as you see the man tell Carol to remove the log that he just tossed into the fire - watching as Shane stomps it out and thanks Carol, bidding her and Sophia a good night. You liked Shane - he was a pretty good guy to lead this group.

-

The next day goes by relatively the same as the one before, with the exception that the others never returned from the run. Typically, they would be gone from morning until close to sun down, which worried everyone immensely. Amy was panicking and demanding that they go out to try to find her sister, but Shane refused. You could see both sides, feeling bad for Amy but understanding Shane’s reasoning. You tried to reassure her that they were probably fine, but the younger girl wouldn’t hear any of it.

Not long before sundown, you heard the sound of an alarm blaring through the hills. Shane jumped up from where he sat cleaning his shotgun, Lori pausing in trimming Carl’s hair as she followed after him. You tried to spot where the sound was coming from, but you could not see anything. “Talk to me Dale!” Shane shouts at the older man on watch atop the RV. He is looking out with binoculars, trying to pin point what was approaching. “Can’t tell yet.”

“Is it them? Are they back?” Amy asks anxiously. You place a hand on her back to try to comfort her, your heart pounding as you anticipate what is coming.

“I’ll be damned.” Dale mutters.

“What is it?” She demands.

“Stolen car is my guess.” He replies, dropping the binoculars as the red car comes into view.

Everyone gathered around camp when the car pulled up. Shane was furious that Glenn pulled up to camp in a red sports car, laughing excitedly as its alarm shrilled.

“Holy crap, turn that damn thing off!” Dale shouts at Glenn as he grins.

“I don’t know how!” He hollers with his arms open. Shane taps the hood impatiently, asking him to pop the hood as Amy bombards Glenn with questions over the loudness of the car.

“Pop the damn hood please!”

“Is she alright?! Is she okay? Where is she?!”

“Yes! They’re all okay! Well... Merle not so much.”

“Are you crazy driving this wailing bastard up here - you trynna draw every walker for miles?!” Shane exclaims, leaning on the open hood after he shuts the alarm off.

“I think we’re okay.” Dale mutters. You run a hand through your greasy hair as you wrap your head around everything. Everyone’s okay except Merle? Why was Glenn driving this in the first place?

“You call being stupid okay?” Shane asks, shooting a look over his shoulder at Dale.

“That alarm was echoing all over these hills - hard to pin point the source. Shane stands and places his hands on his hips, giving Dale a look. You can’t help but admire how he looks for a moment - his blue button down shirt with the top buttons undone, exposing his chest. His cargo pants were snug on his long legs and his black hair was disheveled from running his large hands through it so frequently. If it weren’t for Lori...

“I’m not arguing, I’m just saying.” Dale remarks. “But it wouldn’t hurt you to think things through a little more carefully.” He points a finger at Glenn, the smile long gone from his face. You shake your head and shift your weight as a white truck pulls up behind the other car. You feel your heart swell in happiness for your friend when Andrea steps out, running for her sister with teary eyes. You watch as Morales and everyone else reunite with their loved ones, both you and Shane exchanging a look as Lori comforts a saddened Carl.

When a new man steps out of the car, dressed in a cop outfit, you are confused when you see Shane’s face fall. He looks like he’s seen a ghost - does he know this man? “Dad!” Carl screams, running into the arms of the unknown man. You watch in awe as Carl and Lori reunite with who must be his father... You and all the other smile at the scene, a single tear strolling down your cheek as you rejoice for them.

Until it hits you.

You look at Shane, his face rising and falling, his expression changing every second. He’s been sleeping with Lori... From what you knew, her husband was shot and died in the hospital right as this all happened... Was this really that man? You had so many questions but instead went over to give Andrea a hug, happy to see your friend has returned safely.

After the others settled in, the fire was once again set up and everyone feasted, listening to stories and the man - Rick - explained what happened when he woke from the coma he was in. You kept glancing back at Shane, wondering whether he was happy his friend was alive or not. He explained that he thought he died, that he didn’t hear a heartbeat and was attached to machines, which sounded like enough reason to believe he had passed to you. Still, you noticed how he looked at Lori throughout the night and you knew that there was going to be tension after tonight.

Once again, Daryl had only appeared once in the morning, asking about the whereabouts of his brother and eating before heading back into the woods. You had met his eye when he strode off, ducking your head from the intensity of his stare.

The next morning, you awoke shortly after sunrise in order to get a head-start on the day. You were going down to the quarry to wash clothes with the women while Shane and Carl tried catching frogs. You dressed into denim capris that hugged your legs and a black tank top, your hair pulled up into a pony tail as you spooned leftovers from last night into your mouth alongside Amy and Andrea. You are sitting beside them on the RV stairs when you spot Daryl approaching the camp from the woods, a string of something swung over his shoulder as he heads your way.

Swallowing the lump that formed in your throat, you exchange a knowing look with the sisters - Merle was left behind. Daryl stops a few feet away from the RV, hollering for his brother as he sets down his crossbow. “Merle!” He hollers again, making you cringe as you note a string of squirrels thrown over his shoulder. You meet his eye for a moment when he glances over his shoulder toward the RV. “Get yer ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel!” He shuffles the weight of the dead animals over his shoulder. You grimace at the sight - knowing that it was a good thing and you should be thankful, but it was gross and sad. “Let’s stew em up!”

“Daryl?” Shane calls out, stopping Daryl in his tracks. Everyone is gathered around by this point and you exchange a worried look with the girls when you spot T-Dog heading over with an armful of firewood. “Why don’t you slow up a bit? I gotta talk to you.”

“About wha?” Daryl asks, his southern accent prominent. You try not to seem too nosey but at this point a lot of the group was gathered around, anticipating his bad reaction. You set the bowl of food aside and stand, crossing your arms and leaning against the vehicle beside your friends. “This isn’t gonna be good.” Amy mutters to the two of you, keeping her voice low. Shane makes his way over to Daryl, Rick following behind.

“About Merle... There was a uh... There was a problem in Atlanta.” You watch anxiously as Daryl takes in the information, looking around the camp at the people gathered, chewing on his thumb.

“He dead?” He asks, glancing up at Shane sideways.

“I’m not sure.”

“He either is or he ain’t!” Daryl shouts, approaching Shane. Your body is tense now and you worry that he is going to do something stupid.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.” Rick steps up, approaching Daryl. He glares at him angrily. You notice how Rick looks a lot different in his large white shirt and jeans than he did yesterday in his uniform.

“Who are you?”

“Rick Grimes.”

“Rick Grimes...” Daryl sneers, sarcasm dripping off his tongue. You feel the tension growing in the air. “You got somethin you wanna tell me?” He growls.

“Your brother was a danger to us all. So I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked onto a piece of metal. He’s still there.”

Daryl begins stalking back and forth, glaring between Shane and Rick, clearly bewildered. If you were in his shoes you would be too - it sounds pretty bad. “Hold on,” He starts, wiping his face and gesturing to his head. You notice that Daryl speaks with his hands quite a lot, mentally adding it to the things that you know about him. “Lemme process this. You’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof?! And you left him there!” He hollers at Rick, his tone raising with each word, making you jump at his loudness.

Before anyone can react, Daryl tosses the squirrels at Rick - who dodges them - and goes to lunge at him. Shane is quick to roughly shove him to the ground - making you cringe when he hits the ground on his back. You want to intervene but it’s not your place - and what would you do to stop the older, larger man?

Daryl whips out his large dagger, making you and Amy gasp when he swipes at Rick. Between Shane and Rick, they work together to disarm and get Daryl to the ground, Shane holding him in a choke-hold as Rick tries to reason with him. “You best let me go!” Daryl shouts, his face turning red as he struggles against Shane.

After a moment, Shane releases Daryl. He shuffles to his feet and resumes stalking and glaring at the men. “The hell with all y’all!” Daryl shouts, waving his arm in no real direction. You spot the tears he roughly wipes away and your heart drops for him. If that were your brother abandoned on a roof you would be pretty furious too. You can’t imagine how he must be feeling.

“Just tell me where he is.. So I can go get him.” Daryl grumbles.

“He’ll show you. Isn’t that right?” Lori speaks up, looking over at her husband. When he nods, she stomps past you into the RV and you exchange a confused look with Amy.

You, Andrea, Amy Jacqui and Carol decided to head down to start on the laundry after the scene. Ed tags along, irritating you, but you bite your tongue. Eventually Shane follows with Carl and you watch them mess around in the water, trying to catch frogs. The sight warms your heart - until Lori shows up and tells Carl to leave. You try not to watch too much, but everyone can hear and see her hollering at Shane, telling him to stay away from Carl.

You feel that is a little harsh, given all that Shane has done for her and that he says he thought Rick was dead. You keep your opinions to yourself as you scrub clothes in the water, droning out Carol as she talks. The girls start listing things that they miss and you all laugh when Andrea brings up her vibrator, Carol agreeing with her. The moment is cut short when Ed interrupts, saying that you guys are laughing too much.

You and Andrea turn and shoot him a look as he looms over you guys, lighting a cigarette. This man had nothing better to do than to supervise? You watch as Andrea stands up, approaching him and you dread the worst. You will not hesitate to stand up for her if he acts out of line - unfair to butt in in this situation.

“Ed, tell you what. You don’t like how your laundry’s done, you are welcome to pitch in and do it yourself.” She suggests with a calm tone. You slowly stand from where you sat and turn to face them, ready for him to pull a dick move. “Here,” She suddenly tosses a wet pair of pants at Ed’s chest, which he immediately tosses back into her face, making her gasp. “Ain’t my job missy.” He drawls, taking a drag of his cigarette. The situation very quickly escalates as Amy tries to get her sister to back down but you take her side.

“No, what exactly is your job Ed? You think you can stand around and watch us all day? Got news for ya - we sure as hell aren’t your bitches.” You growl, daring the man to try you. You’ve had it up to here with this asshole, you’re dying for an excuse to fuck him up or go down trying.

He demands Carol follow him when he pussies out of the confrontation and ends up slapping her - sending all of you over the edge. Everyone is screaming as you and Andrea quickly start pounding on Ed’s chest, you digging your nails into his arms as you try to pull him off of Carol. You manage to get a punch in before he is literally drug off by Shane. You hold your throbbing fist as you watch Shane begin pummeling Ed, climbing on top of him and relentlessly beating him.

You almost want to cheer as he does so, grimacing as Carol cries and begs Shane to stop. Eventually he takes it too far and you all start hollering for him to stop. Carol runs over to the asshole’s side and sobs over him, making you sick as she apologizes to him. You and Shane meet eyes for a moment, your gaze landing on his bloody fists. “Shane-” You start, but he shrugs and shifts his weight, walking backward from the scene.

-

While some of the men got ready to go back to Atlanta to get Merle, you iced your throbbing hand on the steps of the RV. “You okay?” Glenn asks, shooting you a worried look. You nod and give him a halfhearted smile.

“I wish I could’ve beat his ass like Shane did.” You remark, shifting your weight slightly. Glenn lets out a chuckle and removes his cap, brushing his hair away.

“He deserved it.”

“Damn right he did.” You respond, wincing as you readjust the ice. You look up to spot Daryl getting ready a few yards away. He glances up, squinting at you in the bright sun as you sit there. Word quickly got around camp about what happened and it didn’t take a genius to figure out how you hurt yourself. You watch Daryl chew on his bottom lip, looking at you sideways before dropping his gaze back to his crossbow in hand.

“What’s that all about?” Glenn mutters. You glance up at him and cock a brow.

“Whaddya mean?”

“That. Daryl.” He clarifies, a smirk tugging at his lips. You drop your head as you feel your cheeks heat up, checking out your hand.

“Nothin. We don’t even talk.”

“You want to?” He asks, leaning his body against the RV, shooting a look back at the others that he is waiting for.

“I dunno, he doesn’t seem so bad.” You mumble, glancing up one more time when you see Daryl approaching the other men at the jeep, not looking at you this time. Glenn doesn’t respond, replacing his hat on his head and patting your shoulder. “Be careful.” You tell your friend, shooting him a weak smile that he returns as he walks off.

You watch as Glenn stands a few feet apart from Daryl, Shane giving Rick some bullets. “Let’s go! Wastin sunlight.” Daryl rushes them, making you chuckle slightly. You stand up and after one last look at your friends, you head back into the RV.

| NEXT CHAPTER |

~~~

And that’s the end of the second option! This next chapter will end with more choices that you will need to make to continue through the story. You are heading down a spiral of choices and consequences. A simple decision like choosing to stay at camp is going to set the foundation of this story and all of the choices you are going to need to make following it! If you read the first option, you would see just how different the story has become, and it will only go more into depth as you continue down more paths.

Please leave me some feedback in the comments!! I’m looking forward to seeing everyone’s reactions to this series!!! ♥

If you want to know when this series has been updated, feel free to turn on my notifications and ask to be added to my taglist! ♥

@crossbowking​ @glitteryathleterebeluniversity​ @elizaaishi​ @permanenthunger​ @lasswarrior​ @givethnofucketh​  @lokilover2000-blog​ @tv-show-shit​ @mtngirlforever​ @jodiereedus22​@cole-winchester @loudlydarkcollective​ @tehfabbooty​ @momc95​@fuzzy-panda @sourwolf-sterek32​ @mwesterfeld1985​ @badluckgirl​ @namelesslosers​ @my-current-fandom-is​ @zzeacat​ @twdeadfanfic​ @elamy17​ @fangirlsarah16​ @gryffindorshadowhunter​ @justaclosetedgay @a-little-piece-of-heaven-xox​@hello-valerie @huntress-valkyrie​ @pleasepleasepleaseme​ @fangirl-juchan​@dotslabyrinth @isayweallgetdrunk​ @vibhati123 @ask-kakashihatake@clumsy-writing-rdb @07chenzo03 @iminlokisarmysofi​ @daryldixonandfrogs​ @franzixlovesxsomeone​ @of-storms-and-sadness​ @duchessdeer​ @mazerunnerrose​@gruffle1 @harry-titss​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @marissacooper​ @neeadinghugs​ @theserpentinequeen​ @firelonewolf​ @habelm @isilmiel @itsmysticalmystery​ @misscamptl​ @escapetothemind-dancefloor @dixonslover​ @walkingdeadfan25​ @qrangr​@mblaqgi @daryldixon83​ @negansviolentdelights​ @multiefandamn​ @fandom-trash99 @bvbwestfall​ @sugoichenzo​ @daryldixonswifey​ @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindy@esdlaliniadedurin @jasminetherandomweirdo​ @abilostinlight​ @thebeckyjolene​@too-many-fanfiction-fandoms @celticheart72-masterlist​ @whizzer1320​ @nohemi2500​ @nugget3455@axelwolf8109 @twd-imaginesss​ @hells-mistress​ @kaleeandspn @sekkitsu​ @fxckyourlife​ @topsykretts926-blog​ @lighthope08​ @runlikeclockwork​ @elysijin​ @mummy-woves-you​ @princess-of-idgaf​ @icantstopreblogging​​ @rhyatt-deauxtreve​​ @nikki082489​​ @twdeadfanfic​ @superdeadwalker @ringpopdust​ @twdsfix​ @dixonluvv​ @angelophany​ @imaginecrushes​ @the-wonderful-werewolf @chocolatealmondmillk @catlya​@firedancernix @princessxpunk​ @collecting-stories​ @ly–canthrope@maydayfigment​ @emilyabeth@classygladiatorcupcake​ @buckygal95​ @aj3684​ @nervous-bouquet-werewolfs-posts @hudsonbird​ @expectroyalpurple​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @d-e-e-e​ @dylan-o-yumm​ @dead-walking10​ @glitteryathleterebeluniversity @neilox​ @lauravic@d-e-e-e​ @cultliter​ @ravenmoore14​ @rxsenkrxnz-imagines @eviction-notice-no666​ @zeppelinwhore​ @i-ran-out-of-fanfics​ @spidergirla5​ @vgs-sunflower​ @captainskyline​  @nehemiay​ @impossiblewagonweaselcookie​ @felicisimor​ @alexisisdumb​ @iamburdened​

[cryptidcalling]

Stay Warm (Aka Wren gets mild hypothermia)

Wren let out a deep, resigned sigh. As the night had gotten colder, so had the inside of his RV. He had tried cranking the heat higher and higher, but all that had come was more cold. Eventually, he knew he had to check the battery. He had been so sure he charged it that morning. Yet here he was not just with an uncharged battery, but after multiple attempts to charge it he knew it was a clearly dead battery. He hadn’t changed the thing for nearly 6 years now. It was bound to die out sooner or later. But now Wren was left with a problem. He had no power, which meant no heat, no charging his phone, no lights, nothing. In any other season this would have been fine. Wren was a skilled camper, and he would have happily set up his electric lanterns and relaxed for the night before buying a new battery in the morning. However, with winter setting in and blizzard scheduled for early morning, that wouldn’t do. 

With one last glance at his dead battery, Wren headed back into the RV. It was all one large room, aside from the bathroom. His bed was tucked into the very back corner, and up against the left wall was the sofa and bathroom. Across from those was his little kitchen area, complete with a sink, fridge, and storage cabinet. The camper was tall enough to have a small loft, which Wren just used for extra storage. He flicked the light switch on and off, hoping for some kind of miracle to bring the power back. Of course, the lights remained off. Wren tried to keep his chin up. Surely, this wouldn’t be so bad. He could make it one night, easy peasy! It wasn’t like there was some huge blizzard coming, and he lived on top of a mountain where the plows couldn’t get up to clear the roads meaning he would be trapped up there until the snow cleared. Not at all! That definitely wasn’t the exact thing Haywood had been talking to him about at work that day. Nope. 

He set off digging around his RV for things to keep him warm. There was a thick winter coat under his bed that he put on, and in the storage loft were a few spare blankets. He tossed them onto his bed, and ducked back under his bed to pull out a few extra pairs of socks. He had considered just keeping his boots on, but they were dirty and wet, which would just make things worse if it transferred to his sheets and blankets. He put on a sweater and sweatpants, his coat, and 3 pairs of completely mismatched socks, then grabbed his phone before curling up under his blanket mountain. He was still a bit chilly, but definitely much better than before. Now satisfied with his preparations, Wren clicked his phone on. The bright light of the screen hurt his eyes for a moment, but once he adjusted he was able to read the screen. 9:14 pm, 28% battery remaining. He flicked it back off. Hopefully he would be able to make that last long enough to get to work the next day. He’d be able to charge it there. 

Wren slipped his glasses off and set them on the floor beside the bed. He might as well just get to sleep, it wasn’t like there was anything else to do. However, as the night went on getting to sleep proved to be more difficult than he had anticipated. As the minutes ticked on the temperature dropped steadily with them. Soon Wren was shivering despite his blanket cocoon. He tried to curl into himself further, wrapping his arms around his legs and tucking his face into his knees. It did little good. He could feel his fingers getting stiff and painfully swollen from the cold. Eventually numbness came to take the pain away from his fingers and toes, and then came creeping up his arms, legs, ears, nose, and cheeks. 

It took a lot of jerking and fumbling, but eventually he managed to click his phone on once more. 10:56 pm, 8% battery remaining. The cold must have sapped away the power as well. He needed to get somewhere warm, and fast. He tried to push himself up and out of the blankets, but he could barely feel if his arms were even moving or not. He could try and sleep his truck and blast the heat, if only he could get there. It seemed as though the more he tried the harder things became. Even when he did get his head out of the covers, he couldn’t tell which way he was facing. His glasses were still on the floor, making his eyes completely useless at this point. He tried to reach around his bed to feel for them, but now he couldn’t remember where they were. Usually he left them on the sofa. Were they on the sofa? No, no they were… maybe he put them… no… Wren couldn’t remember. His mind felt foggy and strange. He let himself lay back down, not having the energy to properly support his weight much longer. In the back of his mind, he thought he could hear something, a thumping somewhere. Then his phone began to buzz. Wren screwed his eyes shut. The light was just too bright.

-

Haywood carefully drove up the winding mountain pass toward Wren’s RV. He was on his way to check on the younger man, just to be safe. They had already talked about the coming blizzard at work that day, but a part of him felt like Wren hadn’t been taking the cautions seriously. Maybe it was just the man’s sweet demeanor that made him seem so naive, or maybe it was the way he would tilt his happy head to the side like a puppy. Whatever it was, it made Haywood strangely protective of his friend. He had to drive carefully up the mountain because of the winding turns and small, practically useless guard rail. The clear danger of the path just fueled Haywood’s concern. Wren definitely wouldn’t make it to work with this path all covered in snow. Knowing him, though, he would try, and that could lead to a very nasty accident. Just the thought of it made Haywood’s heart clench with concern, and he picked up his speed just a little. 

He was relieved when he finally made it to Wren’s RV, but that relief was immediately replaced with worry when he saw the lights were out. He checked his watch. 11:00 pm on the dot. He walked up to the front door and knocked. When he got no answer he tried again. “Wren? Wren it’s Haywood! I’m just here to check on ya!” He called. Again, he got no answer. He tried calling him once, twice, three times. He got nothing. “Wren!” He called again, this time with far more concern in his voice. He reached for the door, and found it was unlocked. The fool had always been more trusting than he should’ve been. “Wren buddy, where are ya? Pal?” He flicked the light switch, and felt a hard shock of fear when no lights came on. It took him only another split second to realize it was freezing in there. 

Frantically looking around the RV, Haywood spotted the blanket mound and rushed over to it. Wren’s face was barely poking out. Haywood shook him, and saw his eyes wearily blink open. “Christ almighty! Wren! Wren we gotta go right now, ya here! Come on, you can warm up in my car, come on.” Wren made no move to get up, but his bleary eyes traveled up to Haywood. 

“Who…?” Wren mumbled, his voice sounding weak. 

“Haywood! Wren it’s Haywood, I’m here to help ya, don’t worry. Come on, we’re gonna get you to my truck. C’mon.” Haywood reached under Wren’s blanket pile to get a hand into his armpit, pulling him up to drape an arm over his shoulder. His whole body felt cold, even through the coat. He pulled Wren up and out of bed, and Wren stumbled heavily when his feet hit the ground. Haywood caught him, and quickly and carefully helped him toward the door. “My glasses,” Wren muttered. 

“I’ll come back for ‘em,” Haywood promised. He was suddenly very grateful for how close he had parked to Wren’s door. He turned the car on, blasted the heat, and lay Wren down in the back seat. Immediately Wren closed his eyes, and Haywood wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or terrified. He ran back into the RV and found Wren’s glasses, stuffing them and Wren’s phone into his coat pocket before rushing back out into his car. Snow had begun to fall, and Haywood knew then that there was nothing more important than making it back home before the true blizzard hit. 

So he drove, cursing the slow and winding trails of the mountain pass. Once it was safe enough to, he drove as fast as he could get away with until he got to his home. He got Wren out of the back seat and helped him inside, carefully laying him down on the couch. Captain came to investigate, sniffing at Wren’s hands and face until Haywood shooed him away. He draped several thick blankets over Wren, and he set the fireplace ablaze. Thankfully, none of Wren’s clothes were wet. Now all that was left to do was warm Wren up and wait. 

He waited right there with him, watching and waiting for signs of Wren’s usual energy and warmth. Wren was conscious, but he felt far to tired to do much of anything. For a long while he didn’t say anything either, his mind still a bit too fuzzy to really feel grounded. But then, eventually, he turned and faced Haywood. Quickly, he gave Wren his glasses back, and they made eye contact. Wren offered him a gentle smile, and relief sank into Haywood’s bones. 

“Hey there pal. How’re you holdin’ up?” Haywood asked in a quiet tone. He wasn’t sure how much Wren would be able to handle. 

“”M, I’m okay. How come I’m at yer house?” Wren’s words were slow and mumbly, but still clearly understandable. He tried to remember himself, but his memory of the past hour or so was muddy at best, and nonexistent at worst.

“You’re here because I found you freezin’ to death in your RV. What were you thinking tryin’ to sleep in there? You could’ve died!”

Wren shied away from Haywood’s upset tone, tucking his face into the blankets a little. “I didn’t mean to worry ya. My battery died, so I figured I’d tough through one night an’ it would all be okay,” he explained. It sounded stupid when he said it out loud, and he felt a little ball of shame begin swirling in his gut. How could he have been so dumb? And selfish too, making his friend so worried! Haywood caught the look on Wren’s face. 

“Hey, buddy it’s alright. Just use your head next time okay? I’m just happy you’re alright,” Haywood reassured. Wren didn’t feel particularly reassured, but he smiled at Haywood anyways. Haywood smiled back, then stood. “I’m gonna make us somethin’ warm to drink. You just stay there and get warm.” Wren nodded, and Haywood headed into the kitchen. Captain was laying on the tiles. “Go on and say hi to Wren. He ain’t feelin’ good, so you’ll make him real happy,” he said to the hound. Captain stood, his long tail wagging, and wandered off into the living room. Haywood could hear Wren’s delighted greeting when he spotted the dog. It made Haywood smile to himself. 

He considered making them both hot chocolate, until he remembered something Wren had once mentioned to him. His parents used to make him warm apple cider when he was feeling upset. Haywood warmed up two large mugs of apple cider and headed back into the living room. Captain had jumped up onto the couch and was curled up against Wren’s side. Wren was scratching his neck, though he was clearly still having a bit of trouble using his fingers. Haywood sat down next to him and set his own mug on the coffee table. “Do you think you can hold this yourself?” Haywood asked. Wren nodded, and carefully took the mug from his hands. For a moment he just held it, letting the warmth seep into his aching hands. Once he was ready, he took a few sips from the mug, and his eyes lit up. 

“You remembered!” Wren said cheerfully. It made Haywood feel quite proud of himself. 

“I try,” Haywood replied warmly. “Now, what’re we gonna do about your stuff?”

“Whaddya mean?” Wren asked. He tilted his head slightly to the side, just like a puppy. 

“I mean you clearly cain’t be stayin’ in that RV all winter. That path is barely safe to drive on when it’s clear, let alone covered in snow.”

“I’ve been livin’ there nearly four years now.”

“Yea and it’s a miracle you ain’t gotten hurt ‘till now. I don’t care where you’re stayin’. You’re welcome to stay here if you like,  but I ain’t lettin’ you stay up there. No way in Hell.”

Wren seemed to take a moment to consider what Haywood said. Then, he looked back up to him. “You would really let me stay here? The whole winter? I don’t wanna intrude, but I don’t really got the money to afford a motel all winter long,” he admitted. In response, Haywood nodded. 

“Look Wren, I’ve known you about four years, and I feel confident sayin’ that you’re a swell guy. I don’t mind helpin’ you out. You ain’t intruding if I invited you. We just gotta make sure we grab your stuff once it’s safe to go up the mountain.” 

Wren’s smile was the most warm and happy thing Haywood had ever seen in his life. He had seen Wren smile before, he did it all the time, but this one was different. It made his chest feel warm, like looking at a baby bunny might make you feel. It was a smile that told him that he absolutely made the right choice. “Thank you,” Wren said. His tone had the same joy as his smile. 

“Any time. You need somethin’ you just ask okay? I’m here to help,” Haywood promised. “Now just relax and drink your cider. You don’t gotta worry about nothin’.” 

Wren did as he was told, cozying himself against the arm of the couch and happily sipping from his mug. Haywood flicked on the TV, trying to find a show Wren might enjoy. Eventually he was able to find a channel playing Chopped re-reuns, which they were both fairly happy with. They sat there together, with Wren chiming in here and there to say something about ingredients and recipes he needs to try. As the blizzard raged outside, the two of them remained safe and warm inside with a bloodhound smushed comfortably in between them. Soon enough Wren began to yawn, and his eyelids got progressively droopier and droopier.

“Hey pal, why don’t you head to bed? The spare room is right over there, by the staircase. It’s yours for the rest of the winter.” Wren nodded sleepily, sluggishly getting up. He kept one of the several blankets draped over his shoulders. It was nice to see him standing on his own and using his hands to properly grip things. It made Haywood really feel like everything was going to be okay. 

“Nigh-night Arlo. Sweet dreams.”

“Night night, Wren. Sweet dreams. Stay warm.”

[blackleatherjacketz]

Bargaining Chip: Chapter 7

Negan x Asexual Original Female Character

Summary: Negan takes Blossom captive instead of Daryl after the Lineup Scene. This Chapter: Blossom’s first night as Negan’s wife.

Warnings: Spot the Hamilton Reference, Alcohol, Black Bean Burgers, PLOT TWIST

Read the rest of the story HERE

Tags: @annablack1102 @acutecupidity @80s90steen @negans-network @negansdirtygirll @negansdirtygirl22 @negansdirtygirl22 @collette04 @mblaqgi @haleyea @ask-kakashihatake @sourwolf-sterek32 @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @divadinag @toxic-ink 

She must’ve been out of her goddamn mind to think she could meddle in the middle of this mess, this game of chess when she was so defenseless; but she had to try. She wished to God Negan would have chosen Rosita that morning instead of her. She at least had a habit of spreading her legs for anyone who came knocking on her door, and would’ve done a hell of a lot better job at this than her.

Wish though she might, Blossom stood before Negan in his bedroom just the way he’d wanted her. All of the elements of a romantic dinner were there: candles, music, two different plates full of food she’s only dreamt about and champagne. She never really liked dating or all the societal pressures that came with it. She never thought she’d have to deal with something like this again after what had happened, but here she was, back in a misogynist world run by a rich white man.

“Holy SHIT!” Negan stood up from one of the couches and walked over to her. “You look like a goddamn Bond Girl!” He traced his fingers through her hair. “I mean, you looked good before, but DAMN!” He leaned back with the last word, grinning like a kid in a candy store.

“Sherry did a good job, didn’t she?” She fixed the wave Negan messed up in her locks.

“Oh it has nothing to do with Sherry, but yeah!” He scanned her with dark eyes, slowly stepping forward as the gap between them closed.

“Is all that food for us?” She avoided his intense stare, feeling her muscles tighten up.

“Yup.” He glanced over at the table then back at her. “You hungry?” He grinned again, rolling his tongue across his perfectly white teeth.

“A little,” she admitted, seeing a cheeseburger and fries set out for both of them.

“Look Blossom, I know this is all a little fucked up… I bop two of your friends, put you in a cell, almost kill Daryl right in front of you…”

“Cut me open in front of Rick.” She rose her eyebrows as her heart fluttered. “Don’t forget that.”

“All for show.” He reassured her, grinning like the joker he thought he was. “Sometimes you have to be a little dramatic to get your point across.” He walked over to the table, picking up two glasses bubbling with champagne. “You think I liked killing your friends like that? That I lost Big Red when I could have used him for so many things here at the Sanctuary? You think I wanted to stay up all morning kicking Rick the Prick’s ass in that RV until he figured out who’s in charge?”

She blinked, not sure what he wanted her to say.

“Kind of,” he chuckled, handing her the glass. “The point is, Blossom, people are a resource. They only remain a resource if they see things the same way as you do.” He took a sip. “You and I… those women out there… we all need to be on the same page.”

“And what page is that?” She took a large sip, hoping the alcohol would stop her from caring about what happened next.

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore.” His tone changed. It was soft, gentle, even as he looked her dead in the eye. “All of that shit with the bat and the knives and the cell… that’s all in the past. You’re my wife now, and I will do everything in my power to provide for and protect you.” He traced the outline of her face with his knuckles. “All I ask from my wives in return is that they love me.” He followed suit and finished his glass.

“Love?” What an odd fucking word to come out of his mouth. Love? Ha! Love? Wait… maybe she could use this void against him, somehow fill the gap inside of him in a different way...

“I need to know that you’re on board, for your sake and for Rick and Daryl’s… Before we eat, I just need to hear you say those three little words.” He ghosted her shoulder with his fingertips.

“I love you, Negan.” She chanted, finally looking up into his eyes.

“Good.” He smiled, walking over to the table.

Of course he didn’t say it back. Why did she even think that he would? Ugh, this guy had more issues than her psychology courses had prepared her for. Probably mommy issues. An abusive father, maybe, and none of them had time to give him the affection he needed as a child so he spent his free time killing animals out in the field when they weren’t looking. Whoa, this alcohol made her jump to conclusions.

“What made you choose me?” She asked, starting her interview process by sitting down on the couch. “I mean, out of all the other girls…”

“Are you shittin’ me?” He sat down, popping a French fry into his mouth. “You’re super hot! And you seemed to be the least messed up out of everyone… I assumed you weren’t with Ginger Spice or China Town, so I wanted to show you what kind of guy I really am.”

“And what kind of guy is that?” She took a bite out of her cheeseburger, the black bean mixture throwing her off a little.

“You’re looking at him.” He held his hands out in display as he smirked at her, finally swallowing his French fry. “A man of his word.”

The rest of the meal went on in silence, amazing Blossom that he could shut up long enough to put any amount of food in his mouth. The food offered to her was simple for its time, but gourmet to her in the midst of the apocalypse. She imagined Negan had rooms full of refrigerators, freezers, and cabinets. He had to have a giant kitchen somewhere with at least three stovetops and ovens at the ready, with ample cooks to man them. He didn’t skimp on the condiments or garnishes, either, telling her that they had a fresh garden somewhere outside. That moldy bread he forced her to eat up until now was just a tactic, after all.

After their meal and a few more glasses of champagne, Blossom made her way over to the bed. She hopped up onto the soft down comforter, hoping she would at least blackout during the act itself before enjoying a little bit of rest in bed.

Negan stood up and rushed over to her. “Whoa Whoa Whoa, what are you doing, darlin’?” He actually sounded concerned.

“I’m your wife, aren’t I?” She could feel the alcohol as it pulsed through her veins, heating up her entire body as she spread her legs. This is what Rosita would have done, isn’t it?

“You think I’m going to try and fuck you tonight? After all that I’ve done to you?” His face was serious, his tone even moreso.

“I honestly never know what you’re gonna do,” she admitted.

“You’re drunk.” He placed his hand on her shoulder to prevent her from toppling over.

“I’m not drunk!” She spat out mockingly. She couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten drunk, so he may’ve been right.

“This is a lot of shit to pile on you right now, I get that. I also get that you’re not ready, and if you’re not ready, it’s not going to be any fun for either of us.” He took in a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling before glancing back at her. “Look, do you honestly think I have time to sleep with eight, now, nine wives?”

She stared at him, aghast. Even in her drunken stupor she could tell he was being honest. His face was somber, and not that fake somber shit he pulled that morning when he said that this must be really hard on them. No, this was something different entirely.

“You don’t…” she let her mouth hang open. “But all these women are here for…”

“All for show, Blossom. Just like you.” He squeezed her shoulder. Maybe he was telling her this because she was drunk, and she might forget their conversation in the morning. Or maybe he just wanted her to actually feel safe.

“Wha…?” All for show? But the way he spoke, the way he walked, the way he… was all contradicted that fact. She may not be able to feel sexual attraction herself, but she could tell the signs of someone who was hyper sexual. Everything he did and said dripped with sexuality, the way he looked at her, at Rick and Rosita… none of this was making sense.

“All I need is for their brothers, husbands and fathers to THINK that I’m sleeping with them. That keeps my wives happy, and the men in line.” He pulled the covers down her legs and covered her up, resting her head on the pillow. “Like I said, Blossom, you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This monster, this tyrant, this thing… actually had some decency? She turned in bed and watched him strip down to his boxers and join her in bed, warming up the mattress. He looked like a man, with skin and hair covering the muscles he used to torture her and her people for the past few weeks. Maybe under all of that psychosis, he still had some hope in him yet.

[codylabs]

Chapter 19: The Worst of Times

Links: P 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

An honest-to-goodness alien spaceship came careening out of the sky, directly toward the town. At the last possible second, it pulled up and curved away, close enough that the people on the streets could feel the pull of its gravity drive. Then it swerved unstably side to side through the sky, as its pilot attempted to get bearings. Soon it seemed to pick a direction, and so tilted on one end and raced off toward the hills, slicing off a couple treetops as it went. When it passed over the Mystery Shack, it took a sudden drop in altitude, hovered into something resembling a standstill, bumped once into the side of the building, and settled to the ground upside-down.

Its engines wined tiredly as it rolled itself back right-side-up, and finally came to a rest right between Soos’ truck and the Stans’ RV, like just another car in the parking lot.

The airlock momentarily opened and two sore but triumphant teenagers blinked in the light.

“Ugh…” Dipper dropped the alien instruction manual and rubbed his arms with a groan. “Ow…”

“Bro…” Wendy staggered slightly and shook her head, her inner ear still spinning from the flight’s antics. She gripped her fingers around the upper rim of the airlock, and hoisted herself out before extending a hand down to Dipper. “That was… Bleh…”

“Yeah… Bleh…” Dipper took her hand, and let himself be lifted up.

“Let’s… Uh…” Wendy set him down beside her and gave him a friendly slap on the back. “Yeah… Let’s not… Not do that again.”

They both dropped down off the vehicle’s rim, limped over to the Mystery Shack porch, and plopped themselves down on the sofa, where they could massage and stretch their sore bodies in relative peace.

After about 5 minutes of sitting there groaning, Wendy reached an arm way over in the direction of the cooler, and came back with a pair of ice cream sandwiches. One she tossed to Dipper, the other she unwrapped herself. The cool milky goodness reminded them how hot they were, and they began to unbuckle and loosen their armor. Wendy took a moment to admire all the scratches and dents she’d accumulated on her shoulder pads, and Dipper took a moment to subtly readjust his pants for reasons we won’t go into. Finally he spoke up again. “Yeah… And if we do do that again… I’ll drive.”

“What? No…” She smirked sharply at him. “That was fun, man… I mean… I mean, that wasn’t bad, was it?”

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “…You drive spaceships about as well as you drive cars.”

“Yeah, well…” She struggled for a retort. “Well… You read Alien-ese about as well as you read Spanish. ‘That’s the reactor ignition’ you said. ‘push that button’ you said. ‘try those switches over there’ you said… But was it any of those?”

“No… No, we made it out by dumb luck…”

“Yeah…”

“Ugh… Sorry.”

She blinked. “Yeah… Hey, you know what, I’m sorry too. I totally forgot all about the rotation controls there during takeoff. And I guess I am a pretty bad pilot all-in-all…”

“Ahh… It’s fine… It’s just barf. It washes out…”

“Ha ha… Ooooh.” She took another bite of ice cream. “That’s gross dude.”

“Breaking news! Dipper is gross!” A new voice suddenly joined the conversation, its owner leaping out of the door to land in a smug summersault before them. With a big metal smile and a voice like a TV announcer, she held her own ice cream sandwich like a microphone. She was talking again by the time the screen door banged shut behind her. “Stay tuned next time for these and other shocking revelations, such as: grass is green!”

“Ugh! Mabel!” Dipper frowned.

“What is UP, Dippingsauce?!? Say, when did you guys get back?”

“Like… Just now?” Wendy shrugged.

“Mabel!” Dipper hissed at a volume he thought was quiet. “Go. A. Way. You were ruining the… Ermmmph…?” He nodded toward Wendy in a way he thought was discreet.

“Oh, what?” Mabel laughed. “Did I ruin the moment? I thought you were talking about how gross you were! Well excuse ME for mussing up the moment, you adorable lovebirds!”

“I…! Guh! Mabel! Go away!”

“Maybe I will, but I'll never be faaaar... Ooooh-weeEEEEE-Oooooh...!” She made a mysterious alien noise.

“Say…” Wendy interrupted, eager as anyone to steer the girl toward alternative conversation topics. “What have you been doing all day, dude?”

“Oh, ME?” Mabel smiled. “Well, I… I! I have been thinking and braining and computing, and I think I’ve finally found a way for you guys to solve your little adventure. A big, grand, happy solution! A way that doesn’t involve killing all the alien robots. I way where people are still safe, but also nothing has to be extinct!”

“Oh yeah?” Dipper glanced at her, intrigued. “And what would this big, grand, happy solution be?”

“Nuh-UH! I can’t tell you! It’s a super secrety secret that only Soos and Robbie are allowed to—SWEET MOTER OF CINNAMON IS THAT A UFO?!?”

“Uh…” Dipper glanced over his shoulder. “That? No, of course not.” He shook his head and took another bite of ice cream. “’UFO’ stands for ‘Unidentified Flying Object.’ Whereas that machine is perfectly identified. It is a nuclear-powered sub-light cargo shuttle manufactured on Trilazzxx Beta, as exploratory equipment for Colonial Vessel 4.16’\. An extraterrestrial spacecraft. Not a UFO.”

“OH MY GEEEEEEEE…! Soos, get out here! Dipper and Wendy got us a UFO!”

Soos appeared at the door with a heaping mouthful of grass. “DUDE!” He gasped some down his windpipe, and spent the next several seconds coughing it back up as he ran after Mabel toward the vehicle. “Dude it’s a spaceship! Duuuuude!”

“Duuuuuuude!”

“Duuuuuuuuude!”

“DUUUUUUUUUUUDE!”

Mabel and Soos clambered up the side and disappeared down the airlock.

“…And we’re sure that thing is harmless, right?” Dipper blinked.

“At this point? Yes. And I also took the keys.” Wendy reached into her pocket and pulled out something like a cross between a sonic screwdriver and a feather duster. “I think these are the keys, at least…”

“Ha ha… Good move…”

“Yeah…”

They were silent for a few minutes more.

Dipper took a deep breath.

Wendy took a deep breath.

“So…” He began.

“So…” She began at the exact same time. This seemed to cause some form of mutual interruption, and caused them to both stop talking.

“Go ahead.”

“No, you go ahead.”

“Okay…” She continued. “So…” She let the word hang in the air for a minute, unsure of how to follow up on it. “So… We started a conversation earlier that we never got to finish.”

“Oh…” Dipper stammered. “Oh yeah. Uh… We did, huh? Yeah…”

“About how this adventure might very well be our last. About how if we’re not careful, we might never hang out again. About how I’ll miss you and you’ll miss me and neither of us really want that to happen and, like, what should we do about that…?”

“Uh… Uh… Yeah…”

“Hmm.” Wendy grunted.

And then they fell silent again.

Finally Dipper opened his mouth. Then he closed it, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Wendy, uh… I was wondering if tomorrow… Uh… If… Uh…”

“What?”

“Uh…” A spell of dizzy itchiness seized him about that time, and it got just a little too much to bear. “Uh…”

“What?” She repeated.

“Umm… Never mind.”

“No no no no!” She insisted. “You started a conversation earlier, and now you better finish it.  And you just started a sentence just now, so you darn better finish that too. If you really do have something you want to say, you darn better man up and speak up, or who knows; one of us could die in the meantime. You never know when you'll never have another chance, so take it now.”

“UH!” He squirmed nervously. “No, it’s not… Never mind. I changed my mind.”

“Changed your mind…? Really?”

“Uh…” Dipper took a breath, set his jaw, and finally said. “Okay.” Then he looked her in the eye and, with a truly monumental effort of courage, said it. “Wendy… Do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow?”

Her mouth slowly spread into a little smile as she leaned back and took another bite of her ice cream sandwich. Then she said. “I do.”

Then…!

Then… That was…

That was it… Wasn’t it?

That night Wendy came home tired, happy, and strangely optimistic… Everything seemed pretty good. Pretty chill.

Everything wasn't pretty good.

When she crawled into bed, turned out the lights and drifted off to sleep, something was wrong… It wasn't a happy sleep. A darkness seemed to encroach upon her mind, and forced upon it a new vision; a new vision, filled with darkness.

Within this evil nightmare, the day seemed to run the same way that she remembered. Just the way it was supposed to… Yes, everything was exactly the same… Until…

Until everything went wrong.

The ship exploded. Little bits and pieces flew from its port-side wing, as it tumbled for the ground. The controls fought back against her, the ground came much too fast, she missed the yard entirely, and crashed in the forest.

The ship tumbled end over end, breaking into pieces, littering the landscape with debris. Fires started. Radiation cooked the area at the atomic level. Ford evacuated people for their own protection. When he found Wendy, he had her strip to her underwear before he blasted her with the hose, trying his best to decontaminate her scarred skin.

But Ford had been irradiated himself; an even higher dosage than she. He was sick within hours, and nobody had seen much of him since. They say he’d retreated to the solitude of his lab, where he spent the hours and days doing who-knows-what.

Soos had to move his family out of the Shack. And as they sat together in a lonely motel room, he realized that there was so much heartbreak and brokenness and chaos roaming about that he couldn’t fix it. Even the greatest handyman in the world couldn’t fix it. He knew it, and the knowledge tore him up inside.

Melody had her hands full enough just trying to keep the hotel room in shape.

Abuelita found herself without her recliner for the first time in decades. The futon was a pretty big step down.

Stan found himself as a caretaker of sorts. He kept them fed and sheltered, much as he was able, kept them together and stable to the greatest of his ability. The same man who had brought them all together as Mr. Mystery now brought them together as their Grunkle. And what a Grunkle he was; but even he couldn’t reach Mabel.

Mabel.

As for her, there were no words for what she felt. It seemed that something inside her had suddenly snapped, and she’d retreated into her shell. Nothing seemed to be able to pierce through.

And Dipper…

Dipper was dead!

Wendy awoke with a sudden gasp, and found herself sitting up in bed, the sheets hot and sticky against her skin, her eyes glued on the moon out the window, her breath coming ragged and heavy.

What a nightmare that had been! It was so vivid! Almost as vivid as reality! When she tried to remember it, it didn’t elusively fade like dreams usually do; she could recall it so clearly… The image of Dipper’s bloody, broken body still hovered before her eyes, the broken lives and dreams, the sickness, the pain. She could see it almost as clearly… As… Reality…

But… Wait… Reality…?

Reality was the happy landing… The ice cream… The smiles… The awkward little invitation…

Right?

What was…?

What…

Which was the dream?!?

Wendy’s eyes slowly strayed around her room, searching in dread for the clues which would tell her.

She saw the 4 journals lying open on her desk; three red with the symbol of a hand, and one blue with the symbol of the tree.

She saw the pitcher lying next to her bed, so she had a place to barf if she again felt sick in the night.

She felt the light cotton shirt across her chest, the only thing she could wear that didn’t hurt so bad when it rubbed on her radiation burns.

She saw the little container on her nightstand, with some long, cumbersome scientific label: the pills Ford had given her to flush the latent Uranium from her body.

She saw her calendar, with its extra marks telling her she’d been bedridden 4 days now.

She saw the ‘get well soon’ cards her friends had made, lying in a messy little stack.

She saw last night’s dinner sitting where dad had left it on the foot of her bed; stone cold and untouched…

And on the windowsill directly in front of her, she saw a shattered, oil-stained axe; the axe Dipper had used to defend her to his dying breath.

Wendy’s mind, now fully awake, began to put the grim picture together: the happy ending was the dream. Instead of the nightmare, it was the good day that faded quickly from her consciousness, leaving nothing to recall it by except a vague, groundlessly hopeful feeling. The nightmare had taken its place in her memory.

And now, Wendy was struck with a sudden and powerful feeling of Deja-Vu: she’d been having the same dream for the past 4 nights. Each time, she vaguely recalled the relief, the peace, the life and love… Everything always seemed pretty chill… Then each time, she fell asleep. And the dream within a dream was a nightmare, and when she woke from both she beheld that the nightmare was true. Somehow, inexplicably, it had always been true…

Reality was the nightmare…

Bill would have been tickled pink.

Wendy would suffer no more sleep tonight. Instead she eased herself out of bed, dragging the quilt behind her for warmth. Then she flipped on the lamp above her desk, and watched the weathered pages of the journals appear before her in the yellowish light. Her butt landed on the chair, and her eyes landed on the pages, and there both stayed as the small hours ticked by.

This wasn’t right. She told herself. It wasn’t this way, and it won’t be this way. I don’t know how it could ever be fixed, but there IS a way, and I WILL find it. As she turned another page, she repeated this promise to herself a second time, and she believed it. She knew it.

Wherever you are, Dipper… Listen to me, and don’t you give up hope. Things look bad right now but somehow, somewhere, sometime, I’m coming for you. I will save you.

You had honor and grit beyond your years, Dipper. You were the one who taught me determination. You were the one who taught me heroism. Whatever it is I need to do, I learned it from you. If it had been me dead out there, you would have done the same and more for me, with neither hesitation nor doubt. And you wouldn’t have let depression or despair or a little Acute Radiation Syndrome stand in your way.

Listen to me Dipper, and hold fast.

I won’t be long.

I promise you life.

“Learn to think dark thoughts, my girl.”

These were the words Robbie had given Mabel 4 days ago, when he’d scorned her spirit and left her. These words had been given to her 23 minutes before Dipper died.

She shouldn’t logically have known of his demise on such short notice. She’d been in the van at the time, on the way to the motel, complaining and talking and joking with Soos and Melody… Then… She’d suddenly and inexplicably felt a piece of her soul shatter to pieces. Maybe it was just the minutes ticking by when nobody spoke or called. Maybe she’d suddenly put it all together: how the only place a dirty UFO could have come from is on-planet. How the only people who were currently investigating aliens (and thus the only ones who would ever find such a craft and try to land it in their yard) were Dipper and Wendy. Maybe Robbie’s words had set off a chain reaction of unreasonable, escalating paranoia.

It was probably the work of some kind of latent twin ESP.

It didn’t matter how she’d known.

She just had.

And thus did the civil war begin.

It was the spark that set the two sides of Mabel’s soul afire in hatred against the other. They donned their armor, they took up weapons, and they charged headlong into war on the surface of her mind.

The light half of her brain cried foul at the claims of the darkness; it said that Dipper wasn’t dead at all. “It’s all right!” The light half said. “What do you mean he’s dead? Of course he’s all right! He’s always been all right! He’s always been there for you, you’ve always been there for him, and nothing in the universe can stand between! That’s the way it’s always been, and that’s the way it will always be! Your love for him conquers all! And even if he is dead; so what? Together, you’ve conquered things more powerful than death before, and you will conquer them again! You’ve battled across space and time, you’ve grappling-hooked your way through demons and robots! So long as the name ‘Pines’ still dances in the sunny fields of Gravity Falls, your hope and your love will endure! Stand up and laugh at cruel fate, Mabel! The others need your strength!”

“Of course he’s dead.” The dark side retorted. “He went off alone with Wendy; he spent more and more time with her, less and less time with you, because he wanted to leave you behind! He thought you were too sweet and young and foolish for his duty, and he was right… He left you because he knew you couldn’t handle the grown-up world! The real world… It is dark and twisted and dangerous, filled with evil men, just like Robbie told you! Dipper left you for this world, and his foray into its clutches destroyed him. He should have stayed with you, growing young and stupid by your side, but he didn’t… And now what will you do, you glittery, girly little fart? You will sit down and you will cry, because bringing him back means following him into that grim world, and you are too cowardly for the task!”

Yes, it was true: only half of the mind was occupied by Mabel’s old self… The other half was something terrible and ugly and foreign… Some part of herself she’d either never noticed or always tried to repress. Where did this other half come from? How did it get into my brain? Why are you here? Why won’t you leave me alone? Help, somebody help! It’s hurting me!

No matter how the fires raged on that battleground, the darkness would not be subdued.

But that whole evening, the light side would not be subdued either. It had been holding aloft that one and singular hope: the hope and that this was all just a weird onset of paranoia. But… But what kind of person was paranoid enough to instantly become certain of a dark truth she couldn’t have known? Even Dipper hadn’t been that bad. Nobody was that paranoid, certainly not sweet, optimistic little Mabel… Certainly not sweet, optimistic, innocent, supportive, carefree, cheery, bubbly, joyous, happy little Mabel… Certainly not I…

Dipper was dead; she knew it but she didn’t know it, and that was the misery she had lived until 7:28 that night. And that was when Melody, the most adult-like adult present, got a call from Ford. She’d listened to the news with a steely frown for some 10 minutes, whispering questions just outside Soos and Mabel’s hearing.

Then she nodded, said something to Soos, and handed the phone to Mabel.

Mabel turned away before she could see Soos’ reaction, then pressed the earpiece to her head, and, in a barely steady voice, demanded of the man on the other end. “He’s dead? He’s dead, isn’t he? Dipper’s dead?”

Ford hadn’t dared to hesitate; she’d waited long enough. “Yes.” He’d said.

She vaguely remembered dropping the phone, then curling up in someplace cold and dark, pulling her head and limbs into her sweater, and crying. Deep inside the impenetrable inner sanctum of Sweatertown, the darkness gained ground. “I was right.” It said. “You are foolish, you are stupid, you are weak, and I was right. Now you are all alone, and there is nobody to help you. Your brother is gone, your uncles are just uncles, your friends are just friends, your Soos is just a Soos, and none of them know you anymore. The Shooting Star burned so bright and beautiful in its time, but a shooting star is just a falling star, and its shine is merely its vaporization. The atmosphere has torn it apart, and now a cracked, rough, beaten, cold shell comes plummeting for the ground; an impact that will surely dash it to pieces… Poor, poor Shooting Star… At last… At long, long last, it’s time for you to become something new…”

Thusly did the sweet, optimistic, innocent, supportive, carefree, cheery, bubbly, joyous, happy little Mabel slowly rot.

Robbie’s words echoed over the blackened, besieged walls of Sweatertown.

“Learn to think dark thoughts, my girl…”

Such thoughts had begun to ooze.

Dan tucked in his shirt and buckled his suspenders, as he glanced tiredly at the clock. He had to leave for work in 15 minutes… He supposed that was long enough to try once more to talk.

So he scooped a couple eggs and some sausage off the stove and onto a plate, and carried them over to his daughter’s sealed door. With one massive fist he knocked once, and waited a minute for the response that never came.

She didn’t want to talk. She never wanted to talk.

So he opened it anyway, and took a timid step within.

She was sitting at her desk, wrapped tightly in a quilt and little else, as seemed to be habit these past few days. Before her, arranged on the table like some kind of ritual, were all those old confounded books… What was she doing?

Whatever it was, she didn’t think it warranted showing to him.

Her back was turned, and there it stayed. Her gaze was forward, and there it stayed, as she flipped page after page, slowly and methodically, scanning from book to book to book to book. Occasionally she scribbled a note or a question or an answer here or there. Sometimes she checked a little chart she’d scribbled on the wall, that seemed to be some kind of code. Sometimes she fact-checked the blue one with the red ones, or the red ones with each other.

Always she was looking. Looking for what? Dan couldn’t guess. Why the sudden interest in books, when she’d never liked them even a little? Dan hadn’t a clue. What strange books were these, that could promise answers among matters of life and death? Dan hesitated to speculate. What did she believe stood to gain by pouring over scribbles all through the late and early hours? It didn’t make much sense to him. But somehow, such folly seemed infinitely important to her. Indeed, by the intensity of her studies, it seems she believed in it… WHY? He wondered again. WHAT IS THERE TO BELIEVE? WHAT IS SHE THINKING? IS SHE HOPING? HOPING FOR WHAT? AND HOW? HOW DOES HOPE FOLLOW FROM A SITUATION LIKE THIS…?

Well… He figured she probably knew a lot more about this than he did. Whatever she was thinking, he hoped to God that she was right.

He set her breakfast down on her bed, to replace her untouched dinner.

But before he left, he decided to try once more.

“…WENDY?”

No response, although her shoulders may have tensed just slightly.

“LOOK, I… I KNOW YOU DON’T WANT TO TALK, BUT… BUT. HMM. YEAH… UH… YOU KNOW, WHEN YOUR MOM DIED--”

“Was it your fault?” Dan saw his own daughter spin on him, wild and aggressive, lashing out like a cornered animal. And for the first time, Dan clearly saw that terrible, ungodly look in her eye. It was a look that shocked Dan, even frightened him into taking a step back, because he recognized it well. He hadn’t seen that look in a long time, and he’d hoped to never see it again. That was the look he saw in the mirror, when he met times of true desperation with all he had left: his anger and his willpower. When her mom died. When her brother had hit his head on a hiking trip. When the sky was red and everyone was gone. This was a look of great import.

“I don’t talk.” Wendy growled. “Because I know what you’re going to say, and I’m not gonna listen. You’re gonna ask me why the dickens I was trying to fly an alien spaceship in the first place. Why I didn’t land it properly, or why I showed enough weakness to need protection from some wimpy kid. You’re gonna tell me none of this had happened if I’d have just gotten a job like a good little girl! If I’d have just forgotten the whole thing! You’re gonna tell me I shouldn’t have tried to do this, and now ‘HEY LOOK SOMEBODY’S DEAD! HEY LOOK, NOW YOU’VE GOT ARS AND YOU SHOULDN’T BE OUT OF BED TILL YOUR BONE MARROW HEALS!’ WELL I KNOW IT, DAD! I darn well know I messed up, but I’ll have you know that we had our own good reasons for going out there, for fighting the fight we did, for flying that ship… We believed—No—We knew that we had to! But this wasn’t the way it was supposed to be! We would have lived…! And… And I don’t need another lecture from you telling me how to live my life… Just… Please, just leave…”

Dan stood there for a minute, shocked to silence.

“And…” Wendy announced. “Frankly dad, today’s the day. I don’t think I’ll find any more answers in these books, so I ain’t gonna stay sitting on my butt for one hour longer. You’re gonna leave for work in… What, 11 minutes? Soon as you do, there’s nothing to stop me. I’m gonna get up and I’m gonna head to town. Firstly to collect some equipment I lost in the crash. Secondly to get some questions answered. Third to buy a new bike, because the robot ate my old one. Forthly to visit the Pines, and tell them the half of the story they haven’t heard yet. Fifthly to just clear my head… I know Ford said to stay in bed, stay in my room, until I’m stronger; well screw him. I’m going, because this is more important. And… And that’s the way it is, so there…”

Her gaze passed off of him, as she turned back to her books.

Dan frowned for a good long time, his brain working to process all of this. He started off angry. Then he got confused. Then he stopped being confused, and he knew what he needed to do.

He could be late for work just once.

“UH…” He finally said, as he turned for the door. “I WON’T HAVE YA WALKIN’ ALL THE WAY TA TOWN IN YER HEALTH. GET YER STUFF TOGETHER, EAT YER BREAKFAST, AND I’LL MEET YA IN THE TRUCK… AND FER THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S HOLY, PUT ON SOME PANTS! YOU’LL CATCH YER DEATH OF COLD…”

10 minutes later, she locked the front door behind her, and turned for the truck. She’d dressed herself approximately as she usually did: jeans, boots, jacket. But this time, that faded cap with the pine tree seemed more prominent on her head. And she was carrying more than an axe today; the blue journal was tucked in her unbuttoned jacket.

She was dressed for this business. But she wasn’t feeling it. The eggs and meat tumbled in her empty stomach like they didn’t belong. The chill morning air bit harshly though the inside of her stuffy nose. And her knees, of all things, hurt from so many days of sitting. In every inch of her body there lurked these subtle hardships of sickness. They made her feel thin, weak, even small. As if everything in creation, right down to her very flesh, was conspiring to oppress her. As if, in so many subtle ways, fate had made her less than everybody else.

This must be how Dipper feels every day. She realized.

“READY?” Her dad nodded from the cab of his truck.

She took one more deep breath.

Grit.

“Yep.” She nodded.

“KAY.”

Then she looked over and met her dad’s eye.

Honor.

“…I’m sorry I yelled at you.” She told him. “That was outta turn.”

“’SOKAY.”

“…You’re really not mad at me?”

“…THERE’S A LOTTA THINGS I DON’T UNDERSTAND.” He grunted. “BUT AS FER WHAT YER FEELING… THAT I DO GET. AND EVEN I KNOW BETTER THAN TA STAND IN THE WAY OF A CORDUROY WEARIN’ THAT FACE. NOW… WHERE IS IT YA NEED TA GO?”

She stepped up into the passenger seat, and pulled the door shut behind her. “Uh… McGucket’s handling the salvage from the crash, right? Weren’t you driving the tow truck for the cleanup?”

“YEAH. EVERYTHING WE DIDN’T BURY I TOOK TO HIS PLACE.”

“McGucket Manor then.”

“Hey, make it fast up there, Pumpkin.” Grunkle Stan lowered her gently off his shoulders, and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. His rough, cranky old voice was the gentlest he could make it today. “Don’t wanna be around here longer than we have to… Ha ha… Radiation, and, uh… Heh heh… Y’know. All that… Just get your stuff and come right back down.”

In numb compliance, she walked slowly up the familiar creaking stairs, through the room lit red by the triangular window, and finally into the cramped attic space where all her stuff was…

And all his stuff too… She tried not to look at it.

She stopped by a small metal box that was sitting on her bed. And she stared at it for what felt like minutes, while the mighty battle of light vs. dark raged harder than ever in her soul.

Juan was in that box.

The adorable, innocent little robot that Wendy had found in the woods at the start of all this… Mabel had been the one to keep him fed and charged and happy; who had played with him, and kept him safe from the family who would have meant him harm… Somebody mysterious had even saved him from their hands, and then entrusted him to Mabel, knowing that she still loved and cared for the cub…

Hesitantly, Mabel popped the latches on the box, and looked inside.

Juan was still in there.

He’d been in there 4 days now. No electricity. No room to move. No light. No warmth. No mommy. No love.

Very slowly and weakly he looked up at her. His red eyes were glowing almost too dim to make out, and the most he could do with his legs was wiggle them side to side, as if lacking the power output to even stand up. She could tell that he was nearly dead.

“Oh…!” She choked dryly over her words, and her sight got blurry. “Oh, I’m so sorry Juan…” She reached down with her bare hands, and curled them around his tiny chest. He was even thinner and lighter than she remembered, and his legs were covered in what felt like metal shavings. (Robot poop? Gross…)

He didn’t activate his saws, even when her bare hand accidentally touched them. Maybe he didn’t fear her or hate her anymore; or maybe he was just that helpless.

She rushed over to the wall outlet, sat down next to it, and held his head right up to the socket. Soon as the creature recognized what was happening, it extended its hooks and worked them into the plug. Its entire body seemed to shudder for a moment and then relax. His legs wrapped themselves comfortably around her wrist, and the claws gently plucked at her sweater. His tail wiggled in the cutest way possible, and his entire body seemed relieved, even sleepy as he nursed.

Oh, Juan…

Such a sweet thing…

…

It’s all his fault.

If you hadn’t wandered into that bear trap… Your mom wouldn’t have left you for dead. And then Wendy wouldn’t have found you and taken you home. And then your mom wouldn’t have come back looking for you, and hurt Dan… And then Dipper and Wendy wouldn’t have gone on an adventure to find where you came from… And… And then Wendy wouldn’t have flown that spaceship, Dipper wouldn’t have dueled your mom… Your mom wouldn’t have died, and… AND… AND!

AND DIPPER WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!

Very slowly, Mabel watched her hand reach up to settle on the top of Juan’s head. I’m just going to pet him… It’s all right. I’m just petting you Juan… Don’t be afraid. You need to be… Petted…

But she didn’t pet him. As if it had a mind of its own, Mabel’s hand curled its fingers around the sides of Juan’s head. And her other hand reached around to hold his torso steady.

No…

No, I can’t do this. It’s not… It’s not really his fault. He’s just a baby… He… He… He doesn’t deserve it! What am I thinking?!? He’s innocent! I love him! He’s…

He’s guilty.

I hate him.

Mabel’s fingers tightened. In an instant, her wrists flexed, her arms straightened, and she grunted with effort.

With all her strength, she spun Juan’s head around on his body. And she held it at that terrible angle for a second, flexing with all her strength, waiting for some quiet ‘click’ which would indicate his tiny spine had cracked.

But his neck was made of titanium; it didn’t break.

Suddenly, Mabel froze, and realized what she’d just done.

She dropped Juan on the floor with a gasp, and stood up suddenly, staggering back about 5 steps. Juan shook his sore neck and glanced up at her in an accusing way.

Mabel kept retreating until her back touched the wall. That really happened. She realized. She’d just tried to murder an innocent creature. She, Mabel Pines, had really, truly, with all of her might, tried to end the life of an innocent, adorable baby animal, and all for no reason besides anger…

She broke down into uncontrollable tears, jerked the door open, and rushed headlong down the stairs. Stanley noticed her coming, and, guessing wrongly at the source of her distress, reached up a hand to try and stop her. “Hey, woah, woah, it’s okay, Sweety! C’mere, it’s—”

She blubbered something unintelligible that even she didn’t catch, barreled her way past her Grunkle’s embrace, and sprinted for the back door.

Gone, gone, gone…

Dipper was gone… And now Mabel must be gone too… Yes, something must have taken up residence in my brain, because I would surely never have done that… Surely not I…

The battle in her brain raged on, just as ferociously as ever.

And the light side was getting truly desperate. Has the darkness really won? It asked.

The dark side snickered at the protests of the light. I guess we’ll have to see… It taunted.

Beneath the battle in the brain, Mabel’s legs ran and kept running, while the tears streamed down her face. Grunkle Stan may have been running after her, or he may not… It didn’t really matter; she had faster legs than him anyway.

She ran and she ran.

I tried to kill him! The light side of her brain sobbed. Dipper was the only one I could ever trust, and now I can’t even trust myself!

Geez, this is getting sad! The dark side of her brain cringed. You weren’t even strong enough to break that kid’s neck! Dipper wouldhave couldhave done it better… Whatever you think you’re doing, you definitely need help.

Where are you, Dipper?!? Her light side cried out. What can I even do? Where are you to tease me when I’m silly? Where are you to pick me up when I’m stupid? Where are you to put a bandaid on my soul and give me an awkward sibling hug? Dipper… I need you so BAD…

She ran and she ran until she found herself standing all alone, in a small field of yellow grass. All around the field stooped a scraggly grove of Birch Trees, their trunks banded in sheaths of white bark as smooth as eyelids…

Mabel took a deep breath and wiped her tears, as she sank down into the grass.

Dipper… The light side of her brain pleaded. I would do anything in the universe to get you back…

Oh yeah? The dark side asked. …Did you just say ‘anything’, Shooting Star?

She opened her eyes.

And she saw a small stone statue.

-SURMHFW PHQWHP ERRWXS FRPSOHWH

-SOHDVH VHOHFW PLQGVFDSH LQWHUIDFH RSWLRQ RU LQVHUW VXEMHFW LQWR VFDQQLQJ KDUQHVV

-DOHUW: VXEMHFW VHFXUHG LQ VFDQQLQJ KDUQHVV

-DOHUW: VXEMHFW EUDLQZDYH GHWHFWHG

-ZDUQLQJ: QR ELR-VLJQV GHWHFWHG. UHFRPPHQG LPPHGLDWH PHGLFDO DFWLRQ.

-VHOHFW RSWLRQ:

-              EDFNXS WR HAWHUQDO GULYH

-              FRPPHQFLQJ IXOO VFDQ:

-                             10%

-                             20%

-                             30%

-                             34.6%

-ZDUQLQJ: ELRORJLFDO FHOO GHFDB GHWHFWHG. EUDLQZDYH VLJQDO ORVW.

-FRQWLQXLQJ EDFNXS XVLQJ DFWLYH VFDQQLQJ

-                             40%

-                             50%

-                             60%

-                             70%

-                             80%

-                             82.7%

-ZDUQLQJ: ELRORJLFDO FHOO GHFDB SURJUHVVLQJ. HASHFW TXDOLWB ORVV

-                             90%

-                             100%

-              EDFNXS FRPSOHWH!

-VHOHFW RSWLRQ:

-              VDYH EDFNXS

-              LQSXW ILOHQDPH:

-                             PDVRQ_SLQHV__

-              EDFNXS VDYHG:

-                             PDVRQ_SLQHV__

-ZDUQLQJ: ELRORJLFDO FHOO GHFDB FDWDVWURSKLF. HASHFW ORVV RI VLJQDO.

-ZDUQLQJ: ORVV RI VLJQDO

-DOHUW: QR PLQG GHWHFWHG LQ KDUQHVV

-SOHDVH VHOHFW PLQGVFDSH LQWHUIDFH RSWLRQ RU LQVHUW VXEMHFW LQWR VFDQQLQJ KDUQHVV

[imjustthemechanic]

Natalie Jones and the Golden Ship

Part 1/? - A Meeting at the Palace Part 2/? - Curry Talk Part 3/? - Princess Sitamun Part 4/? - Not At Rest Part 5/? - Dead Men Tell no Tales Part 6/? - Sitamun Rises Again Part 7/? - The Curse of Madame Desrosiers Part 8/? - Sabotage at Guedelon

The group track down the elusive Madame Desrosiers.  She is not cooperative.

Guedelon Castle was just a few minutes outside Triegny – they pulled up into an entirely modern car park, separated from the building site by a row of trees.  A path led around to the other side of those, and there, very intentionally like something out of another time was the castle itself.  Construction had been going on for some fifteen years now and was expected to take ten more, with all the work being done in the same way as it would have been in the thirteenth century – right down to the workers dressing in period-appropriate clothing.  The only concession to modernity was the hard hats and steel-toed boots required by the safety laws, and a couple of cars and trailers that must have belonged to employees, parked a short distance away.

Natasha had been looking forward to seeing how Sir Stephen would react to the place, and how close he thought it was to the fantasy middle ages he came from. It was, however, Clint whose eyes lit up eagerly as they approached the building site.

“I… I remember seeing repairs being made to the castle in Nottingham!” he said, referring to his other life as Robin Hood.  “It was just like this, with the treadwheel crane and the mason’s lodge… I recognize all of this!”  He laughed. “It’s weird how this stuff pops up so strongly when something reminds me.  Like a childhood memory I’ve almost forgotten, and then it comes back!”

His delight was infectious – Natasha smiled back at him.  “Are you still working on your book?” she asked.

“Uh… not really.  Not since I got back,” Clint admitted.  “It would feel like cheating now, like the whole story is already written for me.”

“You’re still the one who came up with it,” Nat told him.

Sir Stephen looked up at the crane, powered by two men in what looked like a giant wooden hamster wheel, hauling blocks of sandstone up to the top of one of the towers.  He nodded, as if he approved, then lowered his eyes to look at the woman who was coming up to greet them.  She was small and plump, dressed in a shapeless forest-green dress and a wimple.

“Can I help you?” she asked in French, a little sharply.  “We’re closed to visitors!”

It was almost six-thirty – they would probably be stopping work for the night soon.  Nat wondered if she and the others should have waited for tomorrow, but Sir Stephen bowed to the woman as if she were a great lady, and then took out his CAAP badge. “I am Sir Stephen of Rogsey,” he replied, in perfect French, “of the Committee for the Appraisal of Archaeological Peril in London.  My colleagues and I are looking for Madame Helene Desrosiers.”

“Oh,” said the woman, a bit startled by his behaviour.  “I’m Sylvia Lefevre, the site director. What do you want with Madame Desrosiers?”

“We have some questions for her about the stolen Egyptian mummy.  We understand she had a family interest in it,” Sir Stephen explained.

Lefevre looked worried now.  “Madame Desrosiers said she would be leaving tonight. You might still catch her at her trailer.”

They looked towards the small cluster of employees’ vehicles – and at that moment, they heard an engine start.  At the end of the row was a particularly large and expensive-looking RV, which was now humming as it prepared to drive away.

Nat grabbed Sir Stephen’s hand.  “Quick!” she said.

They ran back to the car park, where they were in time to see a woman lugging what must have been a very heavy suitcase up the steps to the RV door with her teeth gritted.  To Nat’s surprise, she was not European but East Asian, with fair skin and shiny black hair in a neat bun at the back of her head.  She remembered Wainfleet mentioning that she’d taken over the attempt to reclaim the mummy from her mother-in-law, and wondered what Monsieur Desrosiers thought about the whole thing… or indeed, whether his opinion mattered.

“Madame Desrosiers!” Natasha called out.

The woman looked up.  “I am in a hurry!” she said.  Her accent was French, meaning she’d probably grown up in the country – most likely in Paris or its suburbs.  “I cannot talk!”

“Going to visit your Mummy?” asked Sam.

Helene Desrosiers paused a moment, as if what he’d said had surprised her, but then she shook her head.  “I am going to see Monsieur Wainfleet in England!” she snarled.  “To give him a piece of my mind about his little stunt!  That sarcophagus belongs to me!”

Nat came closer.  “So nobody’s told you they found it?” she asked.

That made Desrosiers stop cold.  She searched Nat’s face for a moment, looking perhaps for a sign that she was lying.  “Where?” she demanded.

“At the side of the road, smashed,” said Nat.  She hadn’t had time to look at a newspaper that day, but was guessing the Gendarmerie hadn’t told the press.  Possibly because they hoped to keep the information private in order to test any tips or confessions they received, but just as likely because they wanted to avoid embarrassment.

Desrosiers stared a moment longer, then hissed something through her teeth. Nat couldn’t quite make out what she’d said, but it sounded like German.

“What did you say?” asked Nat.

“I know who did it,” Desrosiers declared, “and I will deal with him.  You foreigners,” she added, “your job was to protect the sarcophagus and you have clearly failed at that, so you are no longer needed.”  She hauled her suitcase up the last step.  “Laurent!” she called to somebody else.  “Allons-y!”

“Oui, Madame!” came a reply from up front.

Desrosiers was about to shut the door, but Sir Stephen put his hand in it to stop her.  “Wait!” he said.  “Who are the men who look like Buckeye?”

“The men who… who?” she asked, blinking at him in confusion.

“The identical men!” Sir Stephen insisted.  “There were two of them in the party that robbed the train, and they turned to ash when their faces were shown!”

Nat saw recognition flit across Desrosiers’ face, settling a moment later into annoyance. “Of course there were!” the woman snarled.  “That is not your business, either.”  She slammed the door on Sir Stephen’s fingers, forcing him to yank his hand back. It would take a lot more than that to stop him, though – still shaking his fingers to get rid of the sting, he ran to stand in front of the vehicle as it passed along the dirt track between the mason’s lodge and the castle moat.  The driver, a man in his early twenties with the sides of his head shaved, looked nervous for a moment but then revved up the engine, and Sir Stephen was forced to hurry aside.

“She knows!” Sir Stephen said, pointing a furious finger at the RV.  “She knows and she will not tell!”

“She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to,” Natasha pointed out.  “We don’t actually have any authority in France.”

“We cannot go home without answers!” Sir Stephen declared.  “I will not allow it!”

The rest of the group had caught up with him now, and were gathering around to try to calm him down – but then Clint’s eyes suddenly went wide.  “Hey!” he shouted, taking off to chase the RV.  “Wait!  Stop!”

Whatever he’d seen, he was too late to stop it.  There was a crack from high up on top of the half-finished tower, and the immense wooden crane broke.  Its arm swung down to fall into the moat, which fortunately was only a ditch, not yet filled with water, and the load of stones it had been lifting came crashing down on the front of Desrosiers’ RV.

There was no hesitation on the part of any CAAP member – they rushed forward. Sir Stephen ripped the RV door off its hinges to get at the crushed driver’s seat.  The young man named Laurent was lying there, covered in glass from the shattered windshield and with his legs trapped under the collapsed dashboard.  Sharon shot the lock off the passenger door and she and Natasha climbed in.  Madame Desrosiers was sitting on the floor just inside the doorway between the cab and the living space, clutching some crumpled paper to her chest and staring in horror at what was in front of her.  Had she been a foot further forward, she would have been killed.

“Come with us,” said Sharon.  She and Natasha took Desrosiers’ arms and escorted her out of the vehicle.

Outside, people were gathering from all over the castle grounds to see what had happened.  Allen was comforting Madame Lefevre with one arm around her shoulder, while she buried her face in this stranger’s shirt so she wouldn’t have to look at the accident. With his other hand he was trying to dial his phone.

“Nine-nine-nine doesn’t work!” he told Natasha.

“It’s one-one-two on the continent,” she said.

Sam had pushed Sir Stephen out of the way to get a look at Laurent. Natasha caught his eye, and saw him shake his head.

“This one’s dead,” Sam said.  “How’s Madame Desrosiers?”

“I’m perfectly all right,” Desrosiers replied stiffly, though she was trembling.  “I have to leave.  I’m going to miss my flight.”

“We’ll get you out,” Sam promised.  “Sir Steve?”  This got no response, and Sam looked around.  “Sir Steve?” he repeated.”

“He went with Clint,” said Allen, briefly waving his phone in the direction of the castle before putting it to his ear.  “Hello?” he asked whoever had answered.  “Hi, do you speak English?”

Nat turned towards the stone walls.  Clint was halfway up the scaffolding, with his bow and arrows on his back, but had paused to look down.  Sir Stephen was at first nowhere to be seen, but a moment later there was a fuss halfway along the outer wall.  A man jumped down to land in a heap and roll down into the moat, with Sir Stephen right behind him.

The first man started to get up, but Clint clung to the scaffold with his legs while he fired an arrow, and hit the man in the back of the shoulder.  This was not a sharp arrow, though, but one of the taser ones the young scientists at Shrivenham had made – the victim went stiff, and then fell to the ground all over again.  Clint began climbing back down.

Sir Stephen had landed on his feet a couple of metres away.  He slid down the side of the moat to grab the fallen man by the shoulders and drag him to his feet.  It turned out, however, that the man either recovered quickly or had only been faking being stunned – he rolled over, kicked Sir Stephen in the face, and got up to confront Clint, who was now coming at him from the other side.  Clint pulled out a second stun arrow and made to jab at him with it physically, perhaps with the idea that he hadn’t hit the right spot the first time.  The man responded by parrying the arrow with one arm, while the other pulled a hunting knife out of his belt and stabbed Clint in the side with it.

“Shit!” Nat exclaimed.  She left Madame Desrosiers in Sharon’s care, and dashed towards the fight.

“Shit!” Sam agreed, and went with her.

Clint had collapsed, clutching his wound.  The man who’d jumped from the wall was dressed, like the other workers, in a medieval tunic, hose, and hood, with a leather vest that had perhaps blocked the shock from the stun arrow.  A yellow hard hat and a pair of safety goggles made it difficult to see his face.  While Sam and Nat were still on their way, Sir Stephen managed to knock the knife out of the man’s hand and then ripped the hat and goggles off in him in a single motion.

[pattiraam2021]

An Epic Day!

by: George Metzler

Tuesday began slowly. At 2:30 am, Mark awoke from his 2.5 hour overnight sleep in the RV, ate some Mac and Cheese, and began riding towards the Fort Scott, Kansas. He plodded along at 10 miles per hour with zero power in his legs; none of our usual tricks to wake his brain and get his body to play along were working. Mark and I talked about it over the headset and decided after 6 miles of futility that a 30 minute nap was the only option.

When Mark needs a nap during the race the options are, the front passenger seat of the van or lay down on a bit of foam in the back of the van. Given this was a long 30 minute break Mark, decided to lay down in the back of the van. The crew sets a timer as we stand outside the van and talk and wait. Dex thought it would be a great idea for me (George) to be the one to wake him up…Dex is that kinda guy!😀

I roused Mark by telling him his 30 minutes had passed and he was certain I was telling him he had 30 minutes to sleep. He said he wanted to finish the sleep cycle, which sounds kinda legit, so I set my phone timer for another 15 minutes, but this time I keep the lift gate open on the van. Within seconds he was back in a deep sleep.

Now I’m questioning myself, should we be more aggressive in trying to wake him up? Sleep is valuable, but so is moving up the road. While Leah Goldstein is not in Mark’s division, both of them want to win Solo RAAM outright. Neither came just to win their category. Leah is the real deal. She is riding like the champion she truly is. She is also 40 miles up the road ahead of Mark while I’m standing next to an exhausted Mark whose chest is rising and falling in a deep sleep. Ten minutes into the second sleep a car passes and Mark stirs a bit. I seize the moment and tell him 15 minutes have passed.

Mark gets back on the bike and gets going. Within a few miles I can see him “Wake up” on the bike. He stands on the pedals on the little hills as we go further into Missouri. He begins standing on the pedals on the flat parts, too.

A few hours later Mark has reengaged with the race. During a 5 minute break around Weaubleau he reads a comment about how slow the 2021 RAAM compared to other years. Mark gets a little ticked off and now has an axe to grind just as he begins the time station. He averages 17.4 miles per hour over the next 49 miles of rolling hills.

We enter the heavily trafficked area of Camdenton, MO and Mark, after being frustrated with the effect of heat on his performance, unleashes his fury on the bike. In an unexpected way, the danger and energy of highway traffic can add purpose to rider and crew. Mark is on a mission, averaging almost 18 mph for the next 58 miles to Jefferson City. That’s a respectable training ride on any day. Riding a hilly 107 mile century at 17.6 miles per hour after riding 1,700 miles in six days…I don’t even know what to call that.

I went off shift before Mark reached Jefferson City. We planned the next crew exchange well shy of the Mississippi, thinking Mark had completed a solid effort and would shut it down about 30 miles before the river. I was wrong, really wrong. He reached the exchange point, then the river, then kept going 34 miles beyond the river. He finally called it a day at 3am local time and 363 miles after taking an extra 45 minute snooze in the van. Wowza! So yeah if you are looking at the tracker this morning and you wonder why the dot started moving by its usual time, someone had a late night!

[joleen1234]

Heaven in Hiding - Part 4

Masterlist

I felt a tap on my shoulder and opened my eyes. I glanced over at Simon.

"We're here. Let's go." He said. I nodded and hopped out of the truck. The other Saviors already out of their cars. We were at a small community. They've been giving us grief for the last three weeks but this, this was it. We weren't coming to make friends or give them one more chance.

The man at the gate,and gate was giving it more credit-it was more like a crappy fence , looked at us. I held up my gun to point at his head.

"Open the gate." I said glaring at him. He looked back at me for a moment before complying. As soon as we walked in the few people that were there went back into their homes. The leader, he was a heavier guy, walked over to us.

"Can I help y'all?" He asked smugly.

"Actually you can." Simon said. "You can come with us."

"The hell I will." He said grabbing the knife from his back pocket. "We broke off the deal with you assholes." I pulled my gun from its holster and held it to my side

"Yeah. You can't do that. That's not how this works." I said walking over to him, my gun still lowered. "You don't decide shit. Only Negan does. What he says goes. You follow?" I asked as he held the knife out toward me. "Really? You think you can take me out with a little dinky ass knife?" I asked amused. I saw him quickly glance in another direction and without a second thought I turned and shot. One of his men was about to shoot. I got him first. I heard another gunshot. One of us shot him in the head before he turned. I growled and turned around pistol whipping the guy across the face.

"Get him." Simon said as the others went over and started to beat the crap out of him. I walked away and back toward the truck. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a few kids huddling together behind a bale of hay. I gave them a sympathetic glance as I walked to the truck and pulled out a towel. I cleaned the blood off my gun and stuck it back in its rightful place,my holster on my hip. After a few minutes I heard the wakie in the truck speak out.

"Did you get that asshole yet?" Negans voice crackled through the speaker. I grabbed the walkie and answered.

"They're having a bit of fun with him right now." I replied.

"Well well if it isn't Prue! Aren't you gonna have any fun?" I rolled my eyes.

"Had my fun. I already killed some jackass."

"You're a Cold hard bitch. I like that! Tell them to be at the spot as soon as possible."

"Fine." I said and put the walking down. I walked back over the the guys who were taking turns kicking the man. "Simon. Negan radioed. He said to get to the spot." He nodded.

"Alright. Enough fun. Grab him and throw him in the bed of the truck. We gotta go."

We got to the spot,which was just the middle of some random road. We parked the trucks and cars so the road would be blocked.

"What are we doing?" I asked a bit confused. I was left out of the loop because I was out of commission for a while.

"Remember that group who took out our satellite post?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"We found them. We're stopping them at every road Then meeting Negan to teach them all a lesson." He said. I nodded. I watched as Jim and Steven pulled the bloodied man out from the back of our truck. They dropped him on the ground then stood by their car. I stood next to Simon as we all waited. It felt like forever before an RV started to make its way down the road. They slowly came to a stop and eventually came out,with guns. Even the kid they had with them was holding one. The man who came out first held up his hands and gun to show he wasn't going to attack.

Simon spoke first.

"He's someone who's with a whole lot of other someone's who didn't listen."

"We can make a deal." The guy said in a very grizzly tone. "Right here. Right now."

"That's right." Simon said. "We can. Give us all your shit. Well probably have to kill one of you. That's just the way it is. But then we can move forward to some business. All you have to do is listen."

"Yeah," the guy said pulling his gun down into his hands at the ready. I gripped my gun in the holster,ready to go but Simon slowly put his hand out to get me to stop. I listened and put my hand down, trusting his judgement. "That deal ain't gonna work for us. Actually I was gonna ask for all your stuff scept I wasn't gonna kill any of you. Any more of you." I sighed and looked over when I heard a paint can being shook. Jim opened the cap and put an X on the guys torso.

"Sorry. My deal is the only deal." Simon told them. "We don't negotiate."

"Me and my people are leaving." The man from the RV said.

"Okay friend." Simon said waving them off. " plenty of ways to get where your going."

"You want to make today. You're last day on earth?" He said before getting back in the RV. I scoffed at his sheer disregard to what he was saying. What a cocky asshole.

"No. But that's a great thing to bring up. What if it's the last day for you. Or someone you love? Hold those people in that RV close. Because you never know when the last day is." There was a long pause.

"You too." The man said before getting back into the RV. They slowly backed up and drove away. Simon kicked the guy on the ground again and chuckled.

"Let's get this asshole back in the truck. We gotta hang his ass up."

"What?" I asked confused.

"Negan wants to scare the crap out of this group. We're hanging this poor fuck from a bridge a few miles the other way."

"Weird. But okay." I said. "Come on then. Let's get going."I said and we all started to get packed and off we went.

It didn't take long to get to the bridge. And I watched the guys tie the rope and put the guy on the ledge.

"Please." The guy said softly.

"You're still alive? Props to you." I said before pushing him off hearing a snap as he's body hung there. "This is actually a really good idea. I wish we could see their faces when they notice the X." I said turning to Simon.

"Simmer down kid. Let go. We have to meet up with the rest in the woods. That's where the real fun is gonna start." I smirked.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go."

We pulled up to a bunch of other cars that were parked all around to form a big circle. I got out of the truck and walked over to the others. Negan walked over to me making me have to look up at him. He loved a good power trip.

"You wanna do this with me Doll?" He asked.

"Why me?" I asked him. "Simons much scarier then I am."

"Oh he's doing his part. But I'd really like you to be up close and personal with this shit. I know you got a thing for gore." He said, sucking his teeth. He was right. The first time I was with Negan and he had Lucille take care of someone, it was amazing. He saw it in my eyes and hasn't let me forget it.

"I guess I can't say no ,can I?" I asked and he shook his head. "Okay. Fine." He smirked.

"Alrighty. It's gettin dark so they should be here soon. Probably not gonna take that big ass RV through here so Me and Prue are gonna grab that and bring it back," he said walking over to the middle of the circle. "And park that piece of shit right here. That's when the fun starts." Negan went on to explain the plan. A lot of people assume Negans all muscle but he was smart. Almost scary smart when it came to this type of thing.

Soon the sun set and everyone got in their place. Negan and I were standing near the road the RV was going to come from. I looked over at Negan, the moonlight illuminated his face and I could feel my cheeks heat up. As soon as I saw his face start to turn I quickly looked away. No one could deny his looks. Man or woman. He was handsome but no way did I want to be with a guy who had a bunch of wives.

"You gettin excited?" Negans voice said breaking the silence.

"W-what?" I asked looking over at him.

"For the blood bath that's gonna happen. You excited?" He said with a cocky smirk.

"Of corse I am." I smirked back. I wasn't going to let him see how weak he actually made me. I wasn't that shy and nervous girl anymore. Just then the head lights started to peek over the road. I took a breath and ran out to the road. Waving my hands like I needed help. The RV slowed to a stop and a guy opened the door.

"Are you okay miss? Do you require assistance?" The guy asked as he reached out his hand.

"T-thank you for stopping." I said shyly as I took his hand.

"Of corse I couldn't let a damsel in distress out here at night." I smirked and yanked him out of the RV. Before he could even react I pulled my gun from my hip and knocked him across the face with it,causing him to fall back.

"Well well such a nice guy to stop and help an innocent,what did you say? Damsel in distress? The fuck are you?" Negan asked amused as he walked out. The guy quickly put his hands up to show he wasn't going to fight back. Negan chuckled and quickly zip tied his wrists together.

"Keys." I said holding out my hand. He didn't answer, probably from fear.

"Come on now. The damsel here asked you a fucking question." Negan said as he picked him up from the ground.

"Ignition. I-I left them there."

We got in the RV and Negan tossed the guy on the ground then took the wheel. I sat next to him, pointing my gun to the guy. He just stayed where Negan put him. Eventually we got to the clearing and parked. Negan grabbed the guy and pulled him up. I opened the RV door and saw the guy get thrown passed me. A few other Saviors grabbed him and made him kneel off to the side. Negan motioned for me to shut the door and I did.

"Shouldn't be much longer. Ten minutes tops." Negan said as he sat on the small couch.

"So what's the whole plan?" I asked as I leaned against the drivers seat.

"I'm just gonna wing it. One of em is dying tonight. I know that. They pulled too much shit to get away scotch free." He said rubbing his temples with his thumb and middle finger of his left hand.

"Yeah. They took out Timmys whole squadron." I said with a sigh. "I think you're being too soft. Only killing one of them." I mumbled. He glanced over at me and sighed.

"As much as I'd fucking love to see all them dead, they aren't any use to us dead." I nodded. He was right. They couldn't gather supplies or anything if they were dead and as he often said people were a necessity. I leaned back and put my head against the window and closed my eyes for a second. We've been out since the ass crack of dawn setting this up and I was beat. I felt a slight movement in the seat and opened an eye to see Negan up and walking, more like pacing. Was he nervous? Nah. Probably just bored. He wasn't one for staying still.

A few moments passed and I heard the gradual increase of whistles. It was time. That means they were close. I stretched out then stood next to Negan. Simons voice was bellowing through the thing walls of the RV.

"It's show time Doll," he said with a dark smile across his face. I nodded as I looked out the curtain covered windows. I could see silhouettes of people being forced to kneel. It was time. Two soft knocks hit the door and Negan pushed the door open.

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

Tag List!

@scifi-bi

@thepockyfreak

[raindrenchedstories]

1 left to die 4

“HANG ON!” Was the only warning the two in back got. Something heavy grazed the roof, sending the girls flying from their seats.Kim collided with a window, finding herself thankful there were fitted iron bars in place.

“THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!?” Pam hollered. Scrambling to her feet.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK!? TANK!” It didn’t take long for Pam to open a compartment under her seat. Pulling a heavier powered weapon.  She popped the window closest to the beast as Roxy spun her to face it.

“Kid? You get your ass under that table now.” Kim gave no arguement. Laying on her stomach next to Cotton. The Hunter seamed particularly uninterested in her. Bracing himself between the floor and table. 

Had she been smart, Kim would have done the same. As the next smack from the hulking brute sent her skittering back. She scrambled back into position and corrected the mistake. Did Cotton just smile?

Pam fired before she was knocked back. Kims eyes locked on the area the tank had slammed into. “Why aren’t we tipping!?”

“Rox weighed this thing down somehow. Ask later!” Pam set up another shot grinning. “Come on big boy show mama that smile!” Kim couldn’t exactly see what happened. But Pam fired. Then rejoiced.

“Suck on that!” Rox screeched from the drivers seat. “Buckle up boys and girls. We’re headed home.”

Calmly, Pam returned the gun to it’s potion. Kim crept from under the table, eyeing her. “Is it dead?”

“Yeah. ‘Less they started living without brains.” Pam poked her head over the windowsill with a suspicious look. As though she was starting to doubt herself. Roxy on the other hand, laughed.

They drove in near silence for almost an hour or two. Pam was set on cleaning her gun while Roxy sang quite loudly along with their music. They hadn’t seen an infected for miles now. And it only seamed to get more and more relaxed from there.

“So...” Kim attempted some form of communication. At this point she’d had a more meaningful conversation with Cotton about not using her as a pillow.

Pam glanced up, smiling kindly. “So.” She replied. Placing the weapon to her side. “You ever visit a farm before?”

Finally! Conversation! Kim perked up a smile on her face. “Ah. A petting zoo. Once. But nothing more than that. Why?���

She shook her head grinning. “Because we’re going to one. And I want to know how much I gotta’ teach you.” Kims shoulders fell a moment, before she perked back up.

“So. Do you guys have pigs?”

“NO!” Roxy practically exploded from her position.

Pam just shook her head laughing. “No. We used to. But it didn’t work out. ‘Sides. Rox hates pigs.”

“Why? They’re adorable! Have you seen the teacup pigs?” She could hear some grumbling from the cockpit and glanced at the hunched over woman. Pam just laughed. Patting the girl on the shoulder.

“We have our reasons kid. Any how. I think for the first bit we’ll have you feeding animals and weeding gardens. Might even teach you how to shoot that piece you got there.” She pointed at Kims gun.

A raspy, protesting cough erupted from the shower. Causing Kim a mini heart attack. The girl jumped a small distance, spooking Cotton in kind. “Jesus! I forgot about Larry.” She huffed. Pam just fell over her lap laughing.

The vehicle slowed steadily, and Pam stood. “He probably just woke up from a nap or something. Two seconds kid. Gotta get the gate.” She opened the side door of the RV. Taking a practiced jump down and striding ahead.

They were moving at a crawl as the woman did so. Slow enough that she easily out walked the hulking vehicle. There was a rattle, and they pulled forward a little faster. Before the Gate was shut behind them.

Kim exited the vehicle the moment it stopped, and awed at the rolling hills. She’d always been a city girl. And though she could see the mountains from the higher apartments. Something about being in the country side made them just. Magical.

A budding orchard to the left, with a chicken shed slapped together. Rolling fields to the right. A small herd of cattle trundled past their pasture fences. Roxy nudged her slightly. “Do you have any jewelry?” She blinked.

“No. Why?” Kim followed after the older woman, only moving aside for Cotton who practically tore off with excitement. Some struggle could be heard behind her, as Pam dragged the unhappy smoker from the camper.

“Well... You noticed Pams ear right?” Roxy winced, staring back at the woman dragging the struggling fume bag forward.

“Yeah.” She answered with hesitance.

“Fucking zombie caught my ear ring. Ripped it out.” Pam finished for them. Shoving the new infected towards a reinforced metal building. Roxy moved to hold the door open.

Peeking in, Kim locked eyes on a second hunter, curled up on a high beam above their heads. Held back by a chain link cage. He regarded them with little concern. Only acting up when he spotted Larry. Who was promptly shoved into a cage of his own.

Cotton sprung past them, waiting by the door to the cage holding the other hunter. Wiggling in place. Pam had to basically untie, and kick the smoker inside with a clumsy, gruff series of motions. Before slamming and locking the door. 

She then turned, and unlocked the door to the Hunter cage. Cotton wasted no time in leaping up to greet his companion, albeit clumsily. Barking and chatting at the other with enthusiasm. Pam locked the cage behind him and turned back to the girl.

“...You two are crazy. You know that right?” Kim glanced over them. Both women just shrugged it off laughing. Pulling the young woman towards the main house. The supplies could wait apparently. The well being of their newest member came first.

Upon entering the house, Kim found the one thing she’d missed the most. Food. Real food. As a crock pot placed on the counter bubbled away happily. Surprisingly they still had electricity. The moment Roxy lifted the lid, Kims stomach roared to life.

Pam nudged her towards the table. Then pulled what looked to be fresh bread from a little box. A damn bread box. A real one. Kim hadn’t seen such civil things in months. 

Her eyes locked onto the next thing pulled from the refrigerator. Milk. Honest to god milk. Plenty of it too. “The joys of running our own farm.” Roxy smirked, pouring a plentiful amount of stew into a bowl and placing it in front of the girl.

That, a slice of bread, and a glass of milk made up the first decent meal she had in a very long time. One that Kim graciously accepted. Hardly pausing her eating to listen to the conversation the older women were having.

Parts of it got through. Light teasing, chatter about the livestock, and bets. Eventually Kim took notice of their casual companionship with a small sigh. “Are you two... A thing?”

Roxy spluttered around her stew. Pam just swallowed her mouth full of milk and leaned heavily on her arms laughing. Kim somewhat wondered if she should have asked at all.

“With PAM? ew. No.” Roxy shrunk back. as though Pam were diseased.

“Gee. THANKS.” The other woman growled. “No no kid. Nothing like that. We’re just childhood friends who ended up in an apocalypse together.”

There wasn’t much questioning after that. Pam led the charge with hauling things into the house and putting them away with little concern. Then setting up a bug out bag for the girl.

Apparently, this was a plan for forest fires and other disasters. As most special infected were already dealt with, or didn’t bother with a building that looked like too much trouble to enter.

Things were finally starting to wind down. Kim found her shoulders oddly heavy, everything just... wanted to give up on her. Pam gave her a knowing look, throwing an arm over the girl. “Okay shrimp. Let’s set you up a room eh?”

Glancing to the horizon, Kim confirmed that the light was just starting to fade, casting lazy shadows stretching far from their sources. Including an oddly tall pine tree who’s darkened patch made it’s way to the front door. “Not even night yet.” She grumbled.

“But you’re tired.” Pam ushered her forward with a little laugh. “It’s just a reflex the body has. When you can finally relax and rest, you crash harder than a ten ton truck.”

Her room wasn’t the most impressive. Dark stained walls with paintings hung up for... well no apparent reason. They were mostly landscapes. A mirror, dresser, most importantly a bed.

A big, comfy bed. With old fashioned Grandma made quilts. Kim couldn’t really believe how relaxed she felt. There was only one drawback to the room. The shed. The one the infected were kept in.

Larry had been kicking up a major fuss. Screaming, growling, and slamming about in his cage all day. Now that the sun was setting, there didn’t seam to be any improvement. Though, she could catch some complaint from both the hunters as well now. Whining howls. Begging for quiet.

Both Pam and Roxy could be heard grumbling on their way down the hall. The sound of duct-tape being ripped from it’s roll being unmistakable. There were sounds of a struggle. The cage rattled and then... Quiet.

Kim rolled onto her back. Silently thanking the ladies for their actions. Even if the bed sheets were scratchy. They were there. It wasn’t a roll on a floor. It wasn’t even a borrowed bed in a sketchy apartment. It was a safe, quiet place. One that she could keep.

[bamby0304]

Victoria Grimes VII: Power

I'm going to be away tomorrow, but I wanted to give you guys a Christmas present... so here's the next chapter!! Merry Christmas!!

Summary: Negan. He was the monster everyone had warned them about. He was like nothing Victoria had ever seen before. Worse than Shane, the Governor, the Terminus cannibals, the people at Grady, and the Wolves. Now Negan’s Saviours are here, and they’re about to turn everyone’s lives upside down. Of course, the last thing Vickie expected was to be dragged further into it all than anyone else.

Chapter Seven: Home Visit

Masterlist

Warnings: Explicit Language

Bamby

VPOV

I sat up in the bed at the back of the RV. With a sigh, I swung my legs over and placed my feet on the ground. Dragging my boots over with my foot, I bent down and tugged them on before I stood up and pulled my hair out of my face and into a messy bun on the top of my head.

It wasn't much, but this place was home. I couldn't live in the house anymore. Not with Daryl gone. Not with Abraham and Glenn dead. Not with Sasha and Maggie not back. There were too many memories of them there for me to be able to go on.

Reaching over, I grabbed my bat. As much as seeing Negan with Lucille had made me want to reject the weapon, I knew the consequences from him would be horrible. Besides, I was too emotionally drained to really hate the thing. I hadn't completely recovered from the other night... I never would.

Slipping my other hand under my pillow I pulled out the hand gun I'd stashed there, and slipped it in the back of my pants as I stood up. Walking over to the door, I straightened myself and got ready for the day ahead.

As I pushed the door open I came to a complete stop. A shadow of a man stepped up to the gate, whistling a jaunty tune. I knew in an instant who it was. Everyone would know who that was. Negan.

"Dun-dun-dun, dun." I watched the shadow as Negan lifted Lucille and knocked her on the metal gate. "Little pig, little pig, let me in!" he called.

Rosita, Eugene and Spencer had been by a car that sat closer to the gate. It was Spencer who moved. The first gate was pulled open, but the second stayed shut as Spencer just looked to the other man. He hadn't met the man yet, and I was sure he didn't fully understand the severity of the situation we were now in. But he soon would.

"Well?" Negan asked expectantly.

Spencer didn't answer at first, but when he did I knew it would have been better for him to keep his mouth shut. "Um, who are you?"

Negan grinned, but I could tell he wasn't amused. "Oh, you better be fucking jokin'."

Acting quickly, I jumped out of the RV and moved to the two men.

Negan's eyes landed on me in an instant, his grin widening at the sight of me. "Well, hello Vic-tor-i-a." He rested Lucille on his shoulder.

"I've got this Spencer," I said as I kept my eyes on Negan, raising my only free arm- as the other still held my bat- I pulled at the gate, opening it. "You're early, Negan. You said a week. It's been three days."

When the gate was opened, he stepped into my personal space without a care. "What can I say? I missed you." His eyes travelled down until they landed on my bat. "I see you're good at taking orders." Our eyes locked again. "I wonder what else your good at."

Holding my ground, I refused to let him shake me again. "I'm pretty good with knives, if you wanna see."

He laughed, staying where he still stood close to me. "Oh, Sweetheart, I am gonna have some fun with you." Lifting his ungloved hand- which didn't hold Lucille- he reached for my face, but stopped as his eyes landed on something behind me. "Rick, welcome to the party." He grinned before letting his fingers finally brush some hair behind my ear.

My father came to stand next to me. I could tell in an instant that he was not happy. About Negan being early, or the closeness between myself and the man before me, I wasn't sure. Probably both. Either way, he was clearly not pleased, or comfortable. Which made two of us.

The sound of a walker growling had Negan look over his shoulder as the walker appeared from between the many trucks behind him. "Oh, Rick, come on out here." He stepped out of the gate and moved towards the walker. "Watch this. Calling it!"

Dad stepped out as I stood there, knowing Rosita, Eugene and Spencer were behind and watching as well. Negan lifted Lucille and killed the walker effortlessly. In fact, he even laughed.

"Easy peasy, lemon squeezy!" Negan grinned before he looked to the side. "All right, everybody. Let's get started. Big day."

I stepped out of the gate to see what he was looking at and once again, I froze. Daryl stood among the many people Negan had brought along with him. Men and women. But I didn't care about them, I only cared about the sat my husband was in.

His eyes met mine...

It wasn't the first time I'd seen him battered, and bruised. But it was the first time I'd seen him broken. That's what he was, as he stood there, looking at the ground, dressed in dull, grey sweats, his hair and everything dirty and messy. His face... He'd been beaten up, it was obvious.

"Hey, you see that, what I just did?" Negan spoke, dragging my attention back to him and away from Daryl. "That is some fucking service! I mean, we almost get turned away at the gate. Who is that asshole, anyway?" He gestured to Spencer before going on, not wanting an answer. "Do I get mad? Do I throw a fit? Do I bash some ginger's fucking dome in? Nope. I just take care of one of these dead pricks that could've killed one of y'all." He smiled that charming smile. "Mother fucking service."

I watched him, gritting my teeth. He stepped up to my father and myself, adjusting his hold on Lucille. Last time he'd had me carry her, when the remains of my two friends had been fresh on her barbed wire, so I gathered he was going to make me carry her again. Lifting out my free hand, I waited expectantly.

But he just shook his head. "No need, Sweetheart." He turned his head to dad. "Hold this."

Dad didn't miss a beat as Negan gave him Lucille, the wooden bat now in the grasp of my father. This was just another game to Negan, and it was another we were going to lose.

Negan's people were right behind us as dad, Negan and myself stepped into Alexandria. Negan didn't pay anyone else any attention as he took in the sight before him.

"Hot diggity dog! This place is magnificent! An embarrassment of riches, as they say." Negan turned back to dad and myself. "Yes, sir, I do believe you are gonna have plenty to offer up," he chuckled as he looked at the surroundings again.

Dad hesitated a moment before he turned. "Daryl, hey-"

But Negan shut that down quickly. "No. Nope." He stepped in between Daryl and dad. "He's the help. You don't look at him, you don't talk to him, and I don't make you chop anything off of him," he told my father.

The thought of not being able to talk to him was almost enough for me to turn away and walk right through the gates. The day was only just beginning, I could still go hunt. If I had to be here and couldn't be with my husband- even when he's right next to me- I was going to go insane.

But I couldn't leave everyone else to Negan and his followers. Especially Aly...

Negan turned to step up to me again, getting really close. "Same goes for everyone." He stepped even closer. "Right?"

Slowly, I tore my eyes away from Daryl and locked them on to Negan's. "Yes," I answered forcefully.

He grinned. "Atta girl." Stepping back, he turned towards the community. "All right, let's get this show on the road. See what kind of goodies you got in the cupboard."

"We put aside half the supplies," dad explained.

But Negan didn't care. "No, Rick. No. You don't decide what we take. I do." He looked over dad's shoulder to his people. "Arat."

A woman stepped forward. "You heard the man. Move out!" she ordered the rest of Negan's people before they most of them started heading off towards the houses and buildings.

Pleased, Negan watched them go. "They're just gonna search the houses a bit, keep the process-"

"Daryl?"

I froze, seeing Aly walking down the road, heading this way, with Houdini on a leash next to her. The dog was clearly not happy about all the intruders, but he still stayed close to my daughter, protecting her.

"Well, who do we have here?" Negan asked, watching Aly.

Stepping forward, I put myself in between Negan and Aly, meeting her half way. "Sweetie, go find Carl or Enid, okay?"

Without letting Aly move or answer me, Negan spoke up. "Victoria, I asked a question." He did not sound amused. "I expect an answer."

Tensing my jaw, I placed a hand on Aly's shoulder, keeping her by my side as I turned to face Negan again. "This is my daughter, Alyssa. Aly, this is... Mr Negan."

Negan grinned, flashing me a look that let me know he liked the nickname. I hated it in an instant.

Ignoring him, Aly looked up at me. "The Bad Man?"

Negan just laughed. "Is that what they're calling me these days?" Strolling over, he moved casually until he was a step away from Aly and myself. His eyes were locked onto mine until he crouched down by my daughter and turned his attention to her. "What's your friend's name?" He pointed to Houdini.

The dog was growling lowly, watching Negan carefully. If the man made one wrong move, there would be no stopping the dog.

Aly answered the man with no fear. "He's my dog. Houdini."

"Houdini." Negan nodded. "You name him that, Aly?"

She shook her head. "Mummy and Daryl had him before they found me."

Negan looked up at me again then. "Is that so?"

"Mummy and Daryl saved me and my friends from a bad man. They've saved us from a lot of bad people."

"I bet they have." Standing, Negan kept his eyes on mine. "Lucky for me and my people, your mummy knows I'm not a bad man. That's why they're helping us."

"No." Aly shook her head. "Your taking our stuff, and you killed our friends."

Negan looked down at her, surprised. Once he recovered he simply laughed, the sound coming from deep within his chest. "Jesus, you guys have got some tough kids around here." He shook his head. "Aly, why don't you do what your mummy said? Leave the adults to get back to work," he spoke kindly to her, smiling.

It was odd, seeing a man so cruel, be so gentle with a little girl. With my little girl. It made me have mixed feelings about the situation.

When Aly looked up at me, I simply nodded. "Go find Enid or someone. Just... don't get in the people's way."

"Okay." She gave a short nod before walking off, tugging Houdini along with her.

I watched her go, feeling anxious about leaving her alone.

"No one will touch her. If they do, I'll break their fingers," Negan told me from where he stood by shoulder, now closer. "And no one will take anything from the little ones. Like I said, I'm not a bad guy."

"You're not good, either," I noted, knowing only he could hear me.

He chuckled. "No one's good anymore, Vickie."

There was truth behind his words. I honestly didn't think they're were many- or any good people anymore. There weren't really bad people either. It wasn't that black and white. It probably never was. There were just people. White meat and dark meat. The living and the dead.

"All right, Sweetheart. You wanna show me around?" He offered his arm without even looking at me, knowing I'd take it anyway.

I didn't even hesitate before slipping my arm through his and started down the road.

"You see this?" Negan gestured around us with his free arm. "This is the kind of thing that just, tickles my balls. A little cooperation and everything is pleasant as fuck. You see, we really are reasonable people once you get to know us. Honest."

We were walking down a street, watching as our people stood outside their homes while the Saviours carried their things out onto the road. Whether it be chairs, mattresses, or even cutlery. They were taking everything and anything they wanted.

Suddenly Negan came to a stop before he reached into a box and found a can. It was Denise's can. The one she'd gotten for Tara. The one she'd gotten moments before Dwight had killed her. Pulling it out, Negan brought it to his other hand and opened the can before taking a drink.

Lowering the can from his lips, he grinned, offering me some. When I didn't take it, he sighed. "Now, now, Sweetheart. When someone offers you a drink, you take it."

Glaring at him, I took the can with my free hand and lifted it to my lips, taking a drink of the sweet liquid, feeling it run down my throat. Some slipped out from the corner of my lips, and I watched as Negan's eyes trailed the single drop. When I lowered the can, he reached forward and brushed the drop away from my chin using his thumb, before he brought that thumb to his lips and licked the drop off.

I hated myself for it, but my body had a mind of its own as a heat grew inside me at the sight of the small action from Negan...

Grinning, as if he knew what he was doing to me, Negan took the can and finished the drink. Lowering the can, now finished, he nodded. "Absolutely perfect," he said as he kept his eyes locked on to mine. "Damn, I love this place."

"Negan," a guy called, pulling Negan's attention to him as he headed towards us. "Somethin' you might wanna see." He offered Negan a camera.

Negan tossed the can over his shoulder and grabbed the camera, his grin still in place. I swear he hardly ever stopped smiling. "Well, well, well. What do we have here? I got my fingers crossed for a little freaky-deaky." He chuckled as he turned the camera on.

"You don't know me," dad's voice spoke. "I've killed people. I don't even know how many by now."

"Jee-hee-sus!" Negan stepped forward to dad, showing him the camera.

"But I know why they're all dead."

"Is that you, Rick, underneath all that man-bush?" Negan gestured to the video playing.

"They're dead so my family, all those people out there, can be alive."

"Shit. I would not have messed with that guy." He turned the video off and began to record. "But that's not you anymore is it? Nope." He aimed the camera at dad and zoomed in before turning it off and lowering the camera before raising his other hand to his face. "I really gotta shave this shit." He handed the camera back to the guy who'd given it to him.

I realised that had been dad's interview with Deanna. I'd been interviewed that day, too. We all had. It was a requirement to get into the community. There was a recording of all of us on that camera, and Negan was going to see every single one...

He began to speak again, getting my attention once more. "Whatever happened to that sick girl? That seemed like a hell of a stressful night for her. The way she was carrying on, she was married to number two, right?"

Maggie...

Sasha and Maggie weren't back yet. We didn't even know if they'd gotten to the Hilltop at all.

Hearing Negan talk about Maggie and Glenn like that though, it had my worry wash away and be replaced by my anger. He was crossing a line, talking about my two best friends like that.

He must have been crossing one of dad's line's too. "Careful. Careful how you're lookin' at me, Rick," he warned.

Knowing one of us had to be in control, I grabbed dad's hand. "Don't," was all I had to say before dad nodded and looked to the ground.

Negan chuckled as he watched me. "You and the sick girl... you two pretty close, huh?"

"She's my best friend. Her husband, too." I didn't even try to hide the venom in my voice.

Unlike with my dad, he let me speak to him like that, and glare. In fact, he didn't seem to care at all. He just nodded. "Where is she? I would love to see her."

"Do you care to pay your respects?"

Negan spun around at the sound of Gabriel's voice. "Ho-ly fuck! You are creepy as shit, sneaking up on me, wearin' that collar with that freaky-ass smile."

Gabriel just continued to smile. "My apologies. I'm Father Gabriel."

Nodding at the priest, Negan then looked over at dad and me again. "She didn't make it?"

Turning away, I shook my head.

I was lying, obviously. But I'd rather Negan think Maggie be dead, than let him know she was actually at the Hilltop.

My eyes locked with Daryl's.

He was trying to tell me he was sorry, and I could see he meant it. I could see it was killing him that he thought Maggie was dead, and he couldn't do anything to comfort me. After everything that had happened that night, Daryl knew I needed him more than ever. I needed the comfort of the man I loved.

But ignoring the pain of the truth, I silently, without words or movements, let him know about the lie. At least that would ease his mind a little.

DPOV

We stood by the graves. Gabriel, Rick, Negan, Vic and myself. I stood off to the side, looking down at the three fresh graves, two of which were probably Abraham's and Glenn's, the last being Maggie's fake one. But even though I knew it was fake, I couldn't stop looking at it, or I'd be forced to watch Negan and Vic some more.

I wasn't allowed to speak to anyone. I wasn't allowed to acknowledge anyone. If I did, Negan would break Rick's arm. I couldn't have that. I couldn't make Vic go through that. I couldn't do it to Rick. So I was doing as I was told, as much as it was killing me.

"Damn tragedy. That's what this is," Negan sighed. "Well, this must really suck for you guys. Number one? That was on me. No choice there. Lessons had to be learned. But number two? That didn't need to happen. Daryl, there, he forced my hand. Probably put her right on her back, huh?"

I knew Glenn's death was my fault. No one else was to blame but me.

Vic was probably blaming herself, but she didn't have to. I was the one that stepped out of line. I was the one that punched Negan. If I'd just stayed kneeling, and waited, Glenn would have survived that night.

Negan shrugged. "Damn. I was gonna ask her to come back with me."

I watched as Vic looked up at him as if he were insane.

But he just grinned down at her. "Oh, I know what you're thinkin'. How could I have a shot, guy that just bashed her husband's head in?" he chuckled. "You'd be surprised. Boy, people, they-"

Before Negan could finish, the sound of a gunshot rang through the community.

CPOV

"Put some back or the next one goes in you," I warned, aiming the gun in my hand at the two assholes in front of me. They were taking our medicines.

The guy in front laughed. "Kid what do you think happens next?"

"You die," I answered.

Dad rushed into the infirmary then. "Carl. Carl, put it down."

I didn't even look at him as I spoke. "No."

"Carl, please. Please put the gun down." Vickie stood next to dad, her voice almost begging.

I looked to her, seeing the fear in her eyes. "He's taking all of our medicine," I explained. "They said only half our stuff."

"Of course." Negan was a step behind my family, now standing next to my sister as he grinned at me. "Really, kid?"

I turned my glare to him. "You should go. Before you find out how dangerous we all are."

He looked a little shocked. "Well, pardon me, young man. Excuse the shit out of my goddamn French, but... did you just threaten me? Look, I get threatening Davey here, but I can't have it. Not him, not me."

"Carl, just put it down," dad told me.

Negan shook his head. "Don't be rude, Rick. We are having a conversation here. Now, boy, where were we? Oh, yeah. Your giant, man-sized balls. No threatening us. Listen, I like you, so I don't want to go hard proving a point here. You don't want that. I said half your shit, and half is what I say it is. I'm serious. Do you want me to prove how serious? Again?"

I wanted to fight him. We needed to. If we let these people treat us like this, then we were no better than the walkers outside the walls. This isn't surviving, this is existing. We were better than that...

But Negan? He had a point. He wasn't right, but he had a point. I could shoot. I could threaten, and all that would do is piss him off and get another one of my friends dead.

With a sigh, I dropped the gun and handed it over to dad without a word.

Negan turned and took it from dad before I had stepped back to where I'd been standing before. Sighing, he spoke again. "You know, Rick, this whole thing reminds me that you have a lot of guns. There's all the guns you took from my outpost when you wasted all my people with a shit-ton of your own guns, and I'm bettin' there's even more, which adds up to an absolute ass-load of guns, and as this little emotional outburst just made crystal clear I can't allow that." He grinned. "They're all mine now. So tell me, Rick, where are my guns?"

RPOV

The garage door slowly opened, revealing Olivia standing there, clipboard in hand, waiting for us.

She looked from me, to Negan and then to Vickie. "Hi. I figured you were coming."

Vickie stepped away from Negan and towards Olivia as some of Negan's people gathered behind us. "We need you to show these people the guns, Olivia."

Olivia gave a short nod. "The armoury's inside," she told them before turning around to lead the way.

Negan stopped her before she could move. "You run the show in here?"

She looked at him again. "I-I just keep track of it all, the rations, the guns."

Negan nodded. "Good. Smart." He gestured for her to keep going. "Don't let me stop you. Take Arat and the boys. Show 'em the goods."

Olivia turned again and started for the armoury, Negan's people right behind her. But Negan stepped in my way as he grabbed Vickie's arm, stopping us.

"Sweetheart." He smiled down at Vickie. "I want you to go tell Dwighty boy that I need a truck at the front of this building. Can you do that for me?" he asked as he brushed some hair behind her ear.

It made me sick, seeing him like that with her. But I knew he was only doing it to get a reaction. I knew he'd keep doing it until he got a reaction. So I would hold out, for as long as I could, hoping I could keep my cool for as long as I could. Because if I snapped, I was sure he'd hurt Vickie as punishment. Why else would he be paying her so much attention?

Reluctantly, Vickie nodded. "You know where he is?"

"Down by the gate. He should be waiting there." Negan shrugged, pressing a finger under her chin, making her look up at him. "Don't be too long, I don't want to have to miss you."

Not saying anything in response, Vickie pulled away from him and turned for the roller door before leaving us. Now, it was only Negan and myself, standing there in the garage.

Negan turned to me. "I just want to point out to you that I'm not taking a scrap of your food. Slim pickin's in here. And I can't be the only one to notice that you got a fat lady in charge of keeping track of rations, can I? Either way, you starve to death, I don't get shit, so for now, you get to keep all the food. How 'bout that?"

I just looked up at him. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, Rick." He stepped closer, getting in my face. "How about a thank you. You think that might be in order? Or is that too much to ask?!"

This guy was easy to piss off. He'd made that clear. Everything I did seemed to make him angry, unless I was doing exactly what he said. I had no freewill. None of us did. Not anymore.

He chuckled. "Oh. I know we started off on the wrong foot, but what can I say? You forced my hand, Rick. But it's like I've been tryin' to tell you... I'm a very reasonable man as long as you cooperate, so let me ask you a question, Rick. Are you cooperating?"

"What's it look like?"

"Oh-ho-ho." He grinned. "I know what it looks like. But what I really want to know is if we're gonna find all the guns back there or if maybe you got a few just waitin' for their moment, just like my Lucille."

"They're all in there, to the best of my knowledge," I answered honestly.

He nodded. "Mm. I am countin' on that, Rick."

With nothing left to say, we turned and started for the armoury to join the others.

VPOV

Dwight leaned against the RV, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched me expectantly.

I just glared as I came to stand in front of him. "Negan wants you to take a truck to the armoury."

"And where would that be, darlin'?"

I gestured to the brownstones. "Over there," was all I was willing to give him.

He just shook his head, pulled himself off the RV and smiled. "Maybe you should show me where to park. So I don't get lost."

"If you think I'm gonna play nice with you, you've got another thing coming."

He stepped closer to me. "I don't think Negan would appreciate you talking to me like that, Victoria."

Doing the same as him, I took a step closer. "I don't think I give two flying shits, Dwight."

His smile just widened. "You've got two choices. Get in the truck now. Or get in the truck later." I frowned, confused. What the hell did that mean? "Honestly, I think you're better off now. Unless you want to be riding shotgun with Negan." He grinned as he waited for his words to click.

My eyes went wide. Was Dwight telling me that Negan was going to take me? Was he going to ask me to go back with him just like he said he'd been wanting to ask Maggie? What would happen if I said no? Would they take me? Would they leave Daryl as a trade?

"So what's it gonna be, darlin'?"

Glaring I gave in. "I'm driving."

"Fine by me." Shrugging, he tossed me the keys before we moved to the truck.

I jumped out of the truck, moving over to where Negan leaned against a railing at the front of the pantry house, looking so comfortable and casual as he watched me with that grin on his face. Dad was close by, obviously hating every bit of this. I didn't blame him, but I was trying not to dwell on the situation.

My mental state was on the brink of bad. I had to keep trying to find the bright side of everything, or I was gonna go insane. Fighting through it was how I was able to deal with this whole Negan situation.

Tossing the keys at Negan- not to, at- I watched as he caught them effortlessly.

His grin widened as Dwight came around from the other side of the truck. "You two play nice?" he asked us.

Dwight shrugged. "I don't think she likes me very much."

"Is that so?" Negan turned to me. "Don't you like Dwight Boy?"

Looking from Dwight and then back to Negan, I answered with the truth. "I mean, he stole from Daryl, killed my friend, threatened a bunch of us, kidnapped more of my friends, and is a cowardly bastard. So, no, I don't like him."

"Wow!" Negan looked amused and surprised. "There is some tension there. Maybe you two should work it out? Get a room?" He continued to grin.

"Not gonna happen. Not even if he was the last man on Earth," I noted.

Dwight pretended to be offended. "Victoria, you wound me."

"Trust me Dwight, you'll know when I wound you."

Negan laughed as he pushed off the railings. "Sweetheart, you are one feisty girl. Would never get bored with you around. Bet you'd put on a good show."

Shrugging, I pointed to some guns Negan's people were bringing out and putting in the truck. "Give me one of those, and I'll put on a show right now. Maybe mess up the other half of Dwight's face."

I swear, there was nothing I could say at this moment that would not have Negan laughing or grinning. He just found me so amusing, which was not good. If anything, it actually made me feel small and powerless.

Still laughing, Negan shook his head. "Daryl is one lucky man." Grinning at me for a second longer, he then turned his attention to dad. "You know what today is, Rick? Today is a banner day. Yes, it is. I think this little arrangement we have is gonna work out just fine." He nodded. "I think all our arrangements are gonna work out." He looked to me for a moment.

I hadn't told anyone about my deal with Negan about Carl. I wasn't exactly sure how I was supposed to explain that I'd agreed to do whatever Negan wanted, so he would never hurt Carl. If dad or Daryl- or anyone- found out, they'd probably think I was mad.

Daryl walked out from the pantry house then, carrying an arm full of guns.

Negan grabbed one from the top. "Hold up. Let's see if you've been taking care of my guns." He cocked the gun, aiming it at Daryl's head.

But Daryl kept moving. He didn't even look up or flinch or anything. He was like a robot on autopilot.

I reacted though. I just couldn't help it as my breath caught in my throat and I put myself between the gun and my husband.

Instead of shooting, Negan held my gaze and aimed the gun at a window, shooting and shattering the glass. The sound had me jump a little, but other than that, I held my ground- even though Daryl hadn't stopped when I'd stepped in his way, and was still working.

Negan chuckled. "Feels good. Sounds good! Oh, I do believe Lucille's gettin' a little jealous." He grinned.

Another person walked out of the building then, carrying the RPG Abraham, Daryl and Sasha had brought back after dealing with the large walker herd a few months back.

Negan grabbed the weapon, and handed the gun to the man who moved on to the truck. "Well, ho-ly smokes! Look at this! It was you guys that took out Little Timmy and the Dick Brigade?" Dad and I shared a look as Negan went on. "Wow, Rick. Gettin' in your last licks. Ooh, man, I'm gonna have some fun with this."

Just then, Arat and Olivia came out of the building, the Saviour pushing Oliva ahead, clearly treating her poorly.

"Please, I-I don't know for-" Olivia tried to explain something, but wasn't being listened to.

Negan frowned at his person. "Arat, we don't do that unless they do somethin' to deserve it," he explained.

The woman nodded. "Yeah, we went through the inventory. Guns in the armoury, guns they had around the walls, they're short. Two glock 9s and a .22 Bobcat." She handed him the inventory book.

Shit...

Negan looked to Olivia. "Is that true?"

She nodded, clearly terrified of the man, though I didn't blame her. Without the experience I'd had with assholes like this, I probably would have been shitting my pants.

"We had some people leave town," dad tried to explain. "Those guns probably went with them."

Negan wasn't listening to any excuses or reasons. "So Olivia sucks at her job. Is that what you're sayin'?"

Dad shook his head. "No. No, I'm not sayin'-"

Negan cut him off. "There should be a full accounting here, right? Top to bottom." He turned back to Olivia. "Am I right?"

"No," she answered right away before correcting herself. "I mean, yes. The inventory is correct."

"Good." Negan nodded before stepping closer to her. "But not so good, too. You see, what's in here isn't in there. You're three handguns short. Do you know where they are?"

Olivia was shaking she was so scared. "No. I… I…"

I sighed. "Negan."

Slowly, he turned his attention to me. "Victoria."

Holding his gaze, I reached into the back of my pants, and pulled out the gun there, before handing it over without a word.

Frowning, Negan reached for the gun, and took it from me. "You had one?"

"Yes."

"Why wasn't that recorded?"

"I stole it."

His eyes went wide. "You stole it?"

Shrugging, I nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you know where the others are?"

"If I did, I would have given them up with that one."

Shaking his head, Negan turned to dad. "This is disappointing, Rick. I thought that we had an understanding. But this..." He gestured to my gun and the inventory book. "Well, this shows that someone's not on board, and I can't have that." He looked to Olivia again. "I don't enjoy killing women. Men. I can waste them all the live long. But at the end of the day, Olivia, my dear, this was your responsibility."

Dad went to step in right away. "Look, we can work this out."

"Oh, yes, we can. And I'm going to, right now." Negan was pissed, his raised voice making Olivia whimper. "This was your job, and you screwed up," he told her. "Keeping track of guns? That shit is life and death."

RPOV

I placed Lucille down on the window sill looking down at the bat with distaste, clenching and unclenching my fists over and over as I thought through the situation and our lack of options.

"I thought about hiding some of the guns," I started, talking to all my people as we gathered in the church. "I did it before. I figured I could bury some out there. Maybe we don't touch them for years."

"Years?" Tobin asked as if that was outrageous.

Vickie, who stood at the front with me, nodded. "You don't understand. If the Saviours find us with guns... what if they search every nook and cranny of this place? What if they spy on us and spot us out with guns? They will kill one of us. Or lots of us." She sighed, "These people, they will win. No matter how many bullets or guns we have."

Going on from what she said, I went on. "It's that black-and-white. Hiding a couple of guns isn't the answer, not anymore. We don't have to like it, but we need to give them over." I looked to everyone. "A Glock 9 and a .22. That's what they're looking for. Who has it?" When no one spoke, I pressed, "Someone knows where they are or they know who does. If we don't find them, they're gonna kill Olivia. They'll do it."

Scott stood up. "Why do they care? Two guns aren't a threat to them. But those guns could help protect us from whatever else is out there."

"Do you have 'em?" I asked without hesitation.

He shook his head as he sat back down. "Wish I did."

"Look, I get it. You guys wanna fight." Vickie stepped closer to them, trying to get each of them to hear her. "Most of you weren't there. You didn't have to watch as they caved in the skulls of two of our people. Two friends." She shook her head. "Someone who does that... they'll do anything."

I stepped up to her, resting a hand on her shoulder for support as I finished. "You didn't have to watch then. You can look away now when someone else dies, or you can help solve this. We give them what they want, and we live in peace."

Eric stood up. "Say we find the guns. How are we gonna get out of this, Rick?"

I didn't understand how these people weren't getting my point... "There is no way out of this." I looked to every face in the room as they all watched me and Vickie. "Let me put this to all of you as clearly as I can. We're not in charge anymore. Negan is."

Having had enough, Vickie sighed with frustration and impatience. "Now, who has the fucking guns?"

As the room fell silent and everyone waited, looking at each other expectantly as if the guilty person would confess right here and now, Vickie and I waited. A few moments past before Eugene finally spoke up, but it wasn't a confession...

"Not everyone's here."

Bamby

If you would like to be tagged please send an ask, and tell me what list you want to be added too, it’s just easier to organise this way :):)

Forever Tags:

@kellyn1604​ @bunnymelodies​ @ask-kakashihatake​ @red-rose-flora​ @inumorph​ 

Victoria Grimes:

@deanervs​ @clementine-thx​ @aliceyourelatefortea​ 

[insomniasix]

Chapter III –The Open World - Part II

Feedback is always appreciated! 

 After about an hour of sleeping in Gladio’s arms, Six woke up.

Refreshed wasn’t the word she would use, but after the potion she had consumed and the ‘power nap’, as Noctis used to call them, she felt no pain on her ribs. Gladio’s breath on her hair made her realize he was still there, holding her.

She shifted slowly, turning so she could face his sleepy features, admiring every single detail of his face. His eyes were closed and his lips were parted, a soft snore coming out. She smiled to herself, knowing he didn’t only help her get to the RV but stayed with her, made sure she was as alright as she claimed to be.

She run her fingers along his face lovingly, as softly as she could, barely even touching his skin with hers. She didn’t want to wake him, watching how calm he was, how peaceful.

“When he wakes up, you’ll talk to him.” she thought, eyes traveling along his face “What am I supposed to say? Hey, Gladdy, I love you! I have for a very long time.” She hadn’t realized, but she was making faces as she heard her own voice in her head “No, no, no, that’s just plain stupid. How do I say it without scaring him away? By Titan’s great abs, I can’t lose him. Gladio, we need to talk. That will just terrify him, no. Gladiolus, I-”

“What are you doing?” Gladio’s voice was rough from sleep. He had been awake for only a few seconds but he’d managed to see her expression change a couple of times as she couldn’t decide how to even begin her sentence.

“What? Nothing!” she answered almost immediately, cheeks flushed red.

Gladio laughed at her reaction “Do you feel any better?” he asked, moving some of her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah.” She smiled, thankful he didn’t press on the matter further.

“Good.” he stared into her eyes, moving to place his hand under his head, looking down on her.

“We should am…” she bit her lower lip, imagining how it would be like if they were together, waking up like that every morning; not having to count her words before they left her mouth.

“Stop biting that damn lip!” he moved his eyes from staring at her lips back to her eyes ‘What? Why would you say that to her?’ he thought, quickly moving back and away from her ‘It’s the sexiest thing she –no stop! You idiot!’

“Sorry...” Six moved to get up, thinking he was annoyed as he stayed at the bed rolling his eyes at himself for being conflicted.

“You were saying?” he said, sounding embarrassed.

“Right…” she said while pulling her hair back into a ponytail “We should let the boys know we’re ready for the road.”

“Right.” he groaned and stood up.

Six hadn’t moved from the place she was standing and the spacing inside the vehicle was narrow; as a result, by getting up as quickly as he did, Gladio fell right on her, pressing her back against the counter, both their breaths held at the perfect opportunity. His face was so close to hers she could feel his breath on her lips and his arms were placed between her own and her sides, grabbing on the counter behind her for dear life.

Six was frozen in place, staring up at him, swallowing the knot in her throat as her feelings were battling to come out.

‘This is your chance! Do it Amicitia, or you’ll regret it.’ Gladio thought as he stared at her lips for a brief moment ‘Why in the name of the Gods did I hear that in Iggy’s voice? Leviathan protect me, what am I doing?’ “Sorry.” he said as he moved away from her, leaving her to stand there, eyes closed while trying to steady her heartbeat.

“Don’t worry about it.” she answered, clearing her throat and opening her eyes again “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, my leg got tangled in the blanket.” he forced a laugh while she did the same.

…

Ignis waved at them, sitting in one of the chairs outside the caravan, watching Noctis and Prompto feed the chocobos.

Gladio waved back and quickly turned to go buy himself a coffee while Six sat on the chair next to Ignis’, eyes never leaving Gladio as he moved further away, not turning to look back.

“How are you feeling?” Ignis asked concerned.

“Good, good, thanks.” She turned her gaze towards him and back at Gladio’s direction “Do you know what’s up with him?”

“What do you mean?” Ignis frowned his eyebrows, following her gaze.

“I don’t know.” Six sighed “He was so gentle before, helping me and all; but a few minutes ago he-” She made a small pause, mind running back to the way he talked to her “I bit my lip...” she started to explain and Ignis cut her off, teasing her intentions.

“Kitten...” he smirked at her and she laughed at him “Shut up,” she said quickly “so I bit my lip, didn’t mean to do it either, and he answered with ���Stop biting that damn lip!’.” she mimicked Gladio’s voice.

“Is this bad?” Ignis asked innocently.

“It wasn’t his words.” she answered after giving it some thought “It was the way he said it. He sounded frustrated. Like he really didn’t want me to doing that. I swear this guy’s making me crazy!”

“Do you need me to talk to him?” Ignis raised an eyebrow at her.

“What are you gonna say?” Six laughed “Hey, Gladio. Six is madly in love with you but you are obviously playing hard to get.” she mimicked Ignis’ voice better than she had Gladiolus’.

“Alright, apparently that was a bad idea.” Ignis huffed a laugh “And that thing you just did. Never do it again. It is quite unnerving.”

Gladio came back after a few more seconds of them laughing, followed by Noctis and Prompto, who obviously had enough of the chocobos and were tired enough to want to sleep.

“Sleepy.” Noctis yawned, rubbing his eyes.

“It is about that time.” Ignis agreed.

“So I’ll take that.” Six grabbed the still closed ebony can from Gladio’s hand and he pouted “Hey.”

“Don’t worry.” She laughed. “I’ll give it back to you in the morning.”

“But we just woke up.” Gladio whined.

“Wait, you slept?” Prompto smirked playfully “Together?”

“Prompto.” Six warned “Not the time, honey.”

Prompto held his tongue while Six told the company of the perfect spot for a good camping night. She told them about her favorite spot, which was close enough to Wiz’s Post. Overlooking the lake in Alstor Slough.

Six drove them there and everyone enjoyed the view before getting to work on setting up camp.

“Sleeping out under the stars tonight.” Noctis said, not as excited as everyone else was.

“You can remain awake long enough to eat.” Ignis insisted, mixing his rice with some veggies.

“I agree.” Six said, eyes turning towards Gladio’s position near the cliff “We all had a full day. You should eat and go to sleep.”

“Hugs for everyone this time guys!” Prompto laughed as he hit Noctis on the shoulder lightly, the dark haired Price laughing along with him, despite of how tired he was.

“Prom...” Six dragged his name for a brief second as she was starting to get weary of his teasing.

“Alright. I’ll bite.” Gladio smirked as he got closer to the rest of the group, moving dangerously close to the blond “Question for your chocobo butt.” he said and Prompto froze for a few seconds, not sure what to expect.

“Shoot?” the word got out of Prompto’s lips more like a question than an answer.

“I know you’re afraid of her might.” Gladio said pointing at Six, while she raised an eyebrow at him, waiting to see where he was getting at “I also know you’re afraid of mine.” He smirked, proud of himself “So why, in Titan’s name, are you still teasing us?”

Prompto frowned his brows, looking at the fire and searching his mind for the truth “I just don’t get it.” He smiled innocently “I get you protecting Noct, that’s your job,” Six knew where this was going and she didn’t like it, a terrible headache suddenly pounding in her head as her heart was ready to burst out of her chest ‘What are you doing Prompto?’ she asked herself, unable to speak, to make him stop before he reached the point he was trying to make.

She turned to look at Ignis, who had stopped cooking, realizing Prompto’s point as well as Gladio’s intended question. Ignis looked at Six and back at Prompto, frowning his brows as he was unable to help in the matter; not with the way this was going.

“Prompto.” she tried to calmly stop him while rubbing her temples.

“I just don’t get why she keeps on protecting you the way she does, while it’s clear you’re doing a fine job at that. It’s not like she’s in love with you.” Prompto laughed while everyone just stood there, taken aback, looking at the boy like he’d said the Kingdom’s most valuable secret to the enemy.

“Prompto!” Six raised her voice a little bit, just enough to get his attention so she could nod him to stop.

But he didn’t; and he spoke again, completely ignoring her “OMG! She is!” he turned to stare at her, wide eyed “You’re in love with Gladio!”

“Prompto that’s enough!” she stood up, now yelling at the blond.

“But-” he started to explain himself as he took a step back, moving slightly behind Gladiolus as he stared up at her, realizing he had gone too far. The look in Six’s eyes broke his heart. She was disappointed in him, he could see it in her eyes. In the way she looked at him. She had never looked at him like that before.

“No buts, Prompto,” her voice was darker as she was letting her anger get the better of her “that was outta line! You’re not allowed to step into my business, no matter who it involves. Have I made myself clear?”

Prompto could swear there was a spark of red in her eyes as she stared him down. The boy was petrified beyond belief “Yes ma’am.” he stuttered while Gladio moved in front of him protectively.

Six realized what she had done immediately, guilt and pain hitting her body like lightning when she realized she’d just yelled at her friend with no real reason. Everything she had gone through, everything that was causing her pain and exhaustion hitting Prompto like a bullet; all by her own hand as she let pressure get to her; all because of a simple tease. One she knew Prompto didn’t do on bad intentions.

The terrified look on Prompto’s face as well as the surprise in everyone else’s made her heart drop to the floor. All she wanted to do was hug him and tell him how sorry she was, that she had no intention of hurting him. For Six, Prompto didn’t deserve to get hurt. Not any more than he already had. He deserved the world! And she was willing to do anything to give it to him.

But that wasn’t the case. Not now. Not after all that. She needed time to clear her head, to blow off some steam. So she left, turning around and making a straight line to the rocks overlooking the lake just a few feet away but not visible from the camp.

“Are you alright?” Gladio asked Prompto as the boy sniffed twice.

“I didn’t mean…” Prompto wiped the tears off his face as his voice broke.

“Gladiolus, go talk to her. I will calm Prompto.” Ignis suggested.

“I think you should be the one talking to her Iggy.” Gladio dropped his head.

“You are the only one she will wish to speak with, at this time.” Ignis reasoned while letting his hand rest on Prompto’s shoulder as Noctis got closer to his friend, ready to console him.

Gladio did as Ignis asked and left to go looking for Six.

‘What a mess.’ he thought to himself as her figure appeared just a few feet away. Gladio took a deep breath as he ruffled his hair and walked closer to her. She was just standing there, near the cliff, arms hugging her upper body. She seemed so vulnerable.

Six heard his heavy footsteps and a knot held her heart. She felt his warm hand on her shoulder and she knew, that was it. No more ‘what if’s and screaming ‘no’ in destiny’s face. It was time to face the music.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he made her turn to look at him, tears clearly building in her eyes.

“I’m fine.” She spat out, pissed at herself, for being seen in that state.

“We were worried.” he said calmly, trying to figure her out.

“Despite what you may think, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Gladio thought she sounded so tired, of everything. And that’s when it hit him. The realization of why she acted like that. Why she yelled at Prompto when everyone knew she cared for him like a son.

“Stop pretending you’re ok when you’re clearly not!” Gladio raised his voice to capture her attention “Talk to me, damn it!”

“Fine!” she yelled back. It was time “You want me to talk to you? Gladio, I hate how much I love you!” Gladio’s eyes went wide at her confession as he stood there staring up at her, unable to return her words, no matter how much he wanted to “I hate that despite losing everything I ever cared about, the idea of losing you kills me on the inside. I’m falling for you little by little, every day, for the last ten years and that scares the crap out of me. Because I know my duty, as I know yours! But I can’t see myself being able to let you fall. I can’t imagine my life without you as I can’t, sometimes, remember life before you. Soulmates or not, I don’t seem to care anymore. I love you, Gladiolus, and I-”

She stopped for a second to catch her breath as the tears had fallen from her eyes. She blinked a few times, looking anywhere but his expression. She didn’t have to, he didn’t say a word. Processing, thinking of all the possibilities. Every good idea he had, every scenario where he confessed his feeling towards her, every road he could take where he could say he feels the same; they all turned black as Ignis appeared in every single one of them. Gladio was a good friend, he was a great person. So when it came to happiness, he’d rather put Ignis’ before his own. Even if that meant he’d have to hurt his soulmate’s feelings.

“Well,” she looked up at his stunned eyes “say something. Yell at me, scream. Just, just talk to me, Gladio.” She whispered, eyes falling on the ground once more “If I’m alone in this just say it, and I won’t bother you again.”

“Six, I’m…” he stopped to move closer to her, but she moved back like a broken puppy, realizing where he was getting at just by the sound of his voice.

“It’s ok. Don’t worry about it.” Her voice broke as did her heart “I don’t know why Iggy convinced me to do this.” she laughed and Gladio froze in confusion.

“Iggy told you to-”

“Forget about it, Gladiolus.” The sound of his full name falling from her lips always had an effect on him, now it was breaking his heart, had he destroyed a chance with her for no reason? Why would Ignis tell her to confess her feelings if he cared for her? The thoughts bombarding his mind as she spoke “Just please be my friend right now, not the guy I just blasted with my selfish feelings.” She said as she moved back to the base while Gladio followed in silence.

Upon returning to base Six saw Ignis sitting in one of the lawn chairs around the fire, alone, as the younger boys were in the tent, sleeping by the looks of it.

“Does he hate me?” she asked silently when she got close enough to him while Gladio grabbed a beer and moved to the cliff he was standing on before, trying to understand the events of the night.

“He is unable to hate you.” Ignis answered sincerely “Is everything alright?”

Six sighed as she let her eyes travel to the camp fire “He doesn’t share the same feelings, Iggy.” She answered simply as he turned his whole body to look at her “Just do me a favor, if you see me act childish, by any way, just, slap me in the face!”

“Why would-”

“I know me, I might be old but when it comes to matters of the heart, I screw up.” She said not changing her sight “And I screwed up; hard.”

“I’m sorry I pushed on the matter.” He said after a few comforting seconds of silence “I thought-”

“We all did, Ignis.” she sighed once more, getting up from her seat to go further away and stay with herself for a while, knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep “I don’t really want to talk about my feeling, so I’ll be over there.”

“There’s food on the counter.” Ignis pointed without looking.

“Thanks.”

“Shall we start for Lestallum then?”

“First thing in the morning.”

Ignis knew it wasn’t the right time for him to push her, not to talk to him, not to eat, not to do anything really. He knew that despite her being as old as it was, she was just a human being. And humans have feelings, humans are fragile; and his friend was broken. He was there if she needed him to be and she knew it. So he let her on her own, he let her decide when she was ready.

It only took Six a few minutes to fall asleep, using the small log she was sitting on as a pillow, so Ignis found the perfect opportunity to speak with Gladio. He moved closer to where Gladio had just covered Six’s body with a light blanket, her being tired enough not to even twitch when the fabric warmed her body.

“Shall we speak for a moment?” Ignis asked, quietly enough only for Gladio to listen.

Gladio agreed and they moved further away from her sleeping figure.

“What’s up?” the Shield asked, and the advisor just looked at him, raising his eyebrows at him.

“I would have asked the same.” Ignis pressed.

“She talked to you about it?” Gladio asked, turning to look at Six’s direction, eyes getting soft at her figure.

“I would go as far as saying I forced her to talk to you, along with the Marshal. We can’t both be wrong at what we see, Gladio. So, please explain to me, why the negative outcome?”

Gladio gave it a thought for a while as he swallowed the lump in his throat, choosing the right words.

“I saw you caressing her cheek, outside the caravan at the Hunters’ Outpost, and I thought-”

“You thought she and I were intimate?” Ignis asked calmly as the thought had actually cross his mind when Six told him about the outcome of her confession.

Gladio nodded as Ignis continued “That was idiotic!” he thought out loud.

“I got jealous.” He spoke sincerely to his friend “Which was, as you said, idiotic. That’s never happened before, especially with my friends.”

Ignis saw the guilt in Gladio’s eyes and his voice got softer, he didn’t mean to take place in the matter, he didn’t want to choose a side “You did not tell her that, did you?” he asked.

“She won’t talk to me.” Gladio sighed, running a hand through his messy hair “She won’t even look at me.”

“That is incorrect.” Ignis interfered with his self-loathing chain of thought “She loves you. I know that much.”

“And my idiot self, went on and broke her heart. How very noble of me.”

“There is still time to fix it.” Ignis said matter of factly “Though I wouldn’t suggest trying until we get to Lestallum. She seems to be mad.”

“I’m scared of her when she’s mad.” Gladio frowned, looking at her direction.

“As you should be.” Ignis laughed at his friend, patting him on the back while leaving his company. Ignis grabbed one of the lawn chairs and placed it close to Six’s sleeping body as he moved to sleep in it.

Gladio gave him a smiling nod and moved to get inside the tent and get some rest of his own before starting for Lestallum the next morning, conflicted as to what he was going to do to fix the mess his jealousy had created.

Previous  Next

[booklust]

If the rumors are true that print is dying, then we’re in a zombie apocalypse. Booklr and the self-designated online community of book lovers, as well as publishing professionals and the more dismal-minded of authors, have been predicting the death of print culture for years. Yet it persists, with physical books still outselling e-books by a hugely significant margin. Zine fairs, DIY publishing, and small publishers creating beautiful physical copies are popping up everywhere in my feeds and in the culture, and I’m excited about it. If anything, the intensification of the digital realm has increased the demand--and need--for print publications. They complement each other in ways that no one (or at least, of other non-tech-native generations....no shade dad) could have predicted.

It’s appropriate that the first interview in the series is with the Road Virus, a horror-genre-and-queer-focused mobile bookstore currently traveling the United States. I came across the Road Virus in the digital realm, where we followed each others’ writing. We hit it off right away, because we both have telephone anxiety and have a passion for the non-hierarchical, accessible future of literary culture. Sade and I had a conversation on G-Chat about what it’s like to run a mobile bookstore, Stephen King, accessibility in book culture, how libraries can save lives, and the future of lit. Check it out below:

So first off--thanks so much for your time/agreeing to this interview! I'm super stoked about the Road Virus and everything it's about. Absolutely, and again––thanks so much for doing this interview project in the first place. I definitely feel like now, more than ever, the world needs a good strong focus on things with a literary bent. The best part is that we're the ones writing, in realtime, the history of our own culture. 

Give me your elevator pitch for the Road Virus--except the elevator is broken, so you have more time than you thought.

The Road Virus is a time-tested dream come true. Born out of displeasure with the stasis of ordinary living, my best friend Em and I decided that we wanted to open a bookstore. Books and literature have been in our bloodstreams since before anything else really mattered, so we decided to make that a tangible reality.

Unfortunately, since things in life are so uncertain, opening a brick-and-mortar store just didn't seem feasible. So, we decided on the next best thing––we bought a bus and converted it into a half-RV home, half-mobile bookstore. Lucking out with an ex bookmobile, we decided to focus on fringe genres such as horror, sci-fi, subversive graphic novels and comics, erotica, fantasy, and so on––both due to our limited space and our own inherent interests.

We plan to visit even the most remote parts of the US––and someday beyond––with the concept in mind that a lot of places don't have access to the kind of wares we're totting.

Now, I imagine the elevator creaking, hitching––giving us a fleeting hope––and then plummeting down the shaft. We're probably fine. ------------------------------   keep reading below  -------------------------------

How did you and Em meet to form this dynamic duo of traveling booksellers?

We met by the grace of a mutual friend. A night out drinking in one of the darkest and dingiest bars in the world led to a weirdly cohesive and whirlwind friendship. After discovering our shared love and obsession with books and bookstores, we came around to discussing the idea of opening and running our own. We ended up taking a pretty much spur-of-the-moment trip to Tokyo; something about that trip set reality in motion and things ended up happening so fast that I still look back on it and wonder if it wasn't all just a dream.

Is the name the Road Virus inspired by the Stephen King short story?

It certainly is. With our main focus being on horror and all things related, we felt like we needed a name which not only reflected the contents of our shelves, but also our goal.

In the story, the Road Virus is a car owned by an interdimensional killer; it travels across the US, leaving a swath of death and destruction in its wake. Less on the murder-y side for us, we see it as a way of spreading knowledge––which, of course, can be one of the deadliest and most destructive tools of all. The story, which first appeared in the anthology 999––edited by Al Sarrantonio, this book has been one of my most prized possessions since childhood––has always stood out to me; when we were kicking around ideas for names, The Road Virus was one of the first I jotted down. It came back, and it stuck. 

Also, when I saw that your name was the Road Virus, I couldn't help but connect the resilience of the killer painting in the story with what you both are doing for print literature---in a positive, not at all murderous way--that bookstores are closing down, and people proclaim that print lit is dying, but the Road Virus is an active example of print literature's resilience against all odds. With that in mind---what would you say to people who claim that print lit is dying? and what pushed you to start the Road Virus at this moment in time?

I really enjoy the emphasis we're both putting on this totally not being a murder thing at all, whatsoever.

To those who say that print lit is dying, that books are obsolete, that the internet is the only way to acquire new information and fiction, I say: barring the physical process of a body shutting down and decomposing, something can only truly die if you allow it to.  As long as there is at least one person publishing a book or zine and one person reading it, the concepts and idealism and spirit of print lit will survive and thrive.

Yes! It's so important to me that you connect physical, print lit with physical bodies. The power of print literature is that it creates physical community in a way that digital can't do alone. And physically showing up for something you care about can, and will, keep it alive.

Absolutely. Something that people need to remember now more than ever is that we have the ability to influence anything and everything. There is always a light in the dark, and we always have the choice to make something of ourselves and our surroundings. We are not powerless. For people like us, books have always been an escape, but they're also so much more: calling cards, symbols of power, beacons of hope tying groups together and ripping old systems apart.

Literacy is an extremely important thing to both of us––Em, as you said, is a former librarian, and I myself basically learned all I know from books. Libraries and bookstores were like second homes to us as kids––and sometimes, more so a first home to me personally. I dropped out of school at a very early age and attribute the majority of my ability to comprehend the world around me to the free, open-access presence of libraries. I come from a non-academic background, and Em comes from one of thorough education-oriented leanings; this combination suits us to a t.

The idea that they're dying out and being defunded saddens us greatly, and we feel the need to bring back those concepts to the forefront.

Mutually, we wanted this to be a bookselling venture so that we can sustain ourselves through the trade itself; however, we definitely felt the need to interweave the free and open-source aspect of libraries. We're still working out the avenues of providing reading lessons, and have quite a few ideas in mind for things like free movie nights and author readings.   What's being on the road like? Where have you been, and do you have any weird stories/interesting encounters?

Living in San Francisco, we've been very fortunate to have some amazing haunts. I think we owe a lot of our inspiration for The Road Virus to our favorite daily stop, Aardvark Books on the historic Church St.

Actually, we've been drydocked, so to speak. Our goodly vessel has been parked at a friend's about an hour northeast of SF for over a month now; we've been living on the bus full time while we've been renovating and preparing for permanent life on the road. We also unfortunately ran into some issues with the electrical system, which is being taken care of this week.

Regardless, we're both pretty nomadic people, and we can't wait to officially take off. I can say that driving the bus back to the buildsite was a hell of a trip.

Before we got her, Jolene––our name for the bus––lived a quiet life in Kansas City, MO. We flew in and were planning on driving her back in 2-3 days. This, as it turned out, was absolutely impossible. It ended up taking a week, and was rife with complications; we broke down numerous times, ended up sleeping in the uninsulated bus in -20 degree weather, and had endless scares on the road. Driving through the midwest was like traveling through a different world. I don't think I've been stared at that much in my entire life, except maybe in Tokyo (I'm covered in tattoos, piercings, etc.).  

The drive back over the CA state line was like something out of a dream––more a nightmare, maybe. We drove into one of the worst rainstorms I think I've ever seen, to the point where cars were sliding all over the road, trucks were going 20mph on the highway, and vehicles our size were actually barred from driving any farther at a certain point, so we were all lined up on the side of the highway for hours. This was on about 36 hours of no sleep. As far as fun stories on the road, in my experience they are many and not-so-far in between; we'll have plenty to share once we really get going, I'm sure. Driving through the snow-covered Rockies in a 32' bus when neither of us had driven anything larger than a UHAUL truck was certainly one for the books. 

Lastly, in a quick semi-tweet-length: How do envision the future of literature?

Futurelit, the Tweetening: Though ink may run, pages may yellow, & screens may flicker–the world of lit will forever reinvent itself, thriving in the face of adversity. xxxxxxxxx Follow the Road Virus everywhere:

(Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat) @roadvirusbus Communicables: http://theroadvirus.com/blog 

Reading Is Infectious (book subscription service) (http://shop.theroadvirus.com). A book in the genre of your choice delivered to your door every month.