#then it would make it extra hard when it turned out dennis did try to catfish him at one point

[sunnykeysmash]

wouldn't it be the best thing ever if actually, Mac is dating long distance because he's lying about who he is in order to pull off having a boyfriend in the first place

and that's what actually irritates dennis, because "you're supposed to find someone who loves you for exactly who you are" (like me).

we know dennis really values honesty in other people but especially in mac, being truthful, being yourself, and lying to get a bf would be a huge step backwards in that for Mac, and would INFURIATE dennis

[artzzyb00-27]

Fire-fam kids Teenage Adventures: Influences

The way I pulled and Evan Buckley and did an ungodly amount of research to find out if Christophers age here was still somewhat reasonable. I pulled out my calculator! Trigger warning: shootings

It had been a month and a few weeks after his first day of high school. Specifically at Theodore Roosevelt High. Sure Eddie had been more than a little worried, but Chris was confident he would be fine. Don't get it twisted, at first, he wanted to go to school with Denny and Harry. But after thinking it over, he decided it would be better to make connections on his own.

Buck was more than happy to let him try his own thing as long as he was being safe. After the painful slow burn, Eddie and Buck tied the knot and have been married for two years now. It was nothing but heaven. Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't scared his little boy was going off to high school.

"I declare you, officially a teenager. Welcome to angst and acne forever!" Harry had said that when Christopher's fourteenth birthday came up. Harry was already sixteen by now so he knew a thing or two. Denny, who was now fifteen, had recorded the interaction to show his girlfriend and Christopher's secret friend. Not really a secret but Eddie and Buck didn't know about him yet so it technically was a secret. There was a reason Christopher pushed so hard to go specifically to Theodore Roosevelt.

Manuel "Manny" Salvador Gutiérrez. Mouthful of a name to say at once. It's why he preferred going by Manny Gutiérrez. Harry and Denny met him when Chris invited them to the mall saying he wanted them to meet someone. Manny was the type of guy to be tough and stoic. To be known as the troubled kid who looked like could throw a mean punch(he could) and not get hit at all.

Always wearing worn-down Vans with slightly baggy jeans, sometimes ripped jeans, an oversized shirt with a jacket over. Or sometimes a graphic tee that color matched with his Vans and leather jacket.  He dyed hair at the ends, piercings(eyebrow and nose), and small tattoos because his mom let him.

Underneath that though, kid was a total dork. Once he warms up to you he's a complete softy. Like a big furry black dog. Looks intimidating, but is dopey at the sight of his favorite person. And that person was Chris. They had met in Junior High in math class, which was Manny's best subject. The teacher recommended extra credit to tutor Chris and since then they've been best friends.

"Wonder what's taking so long?" Eddie hummed in response at Chimney behind him. After learning they had a 24-hour shift, Hen, Chim, Buck, and Eddie had decided to carpool in the black minivan so it would be less gas on everyone. Noticing the time they got out, Buck texted Carla ahead to not worry about Chris because they would be able to pick him up.

"Not sure, he's usually out by now. The final bell rang like 20 minutes ago."

Looking around, he couldn't spot his kid. He'd begun taking on a different style of dressing recently. Drifting slightly away from bright colors but keeping his nerdy side. His hair was also slightly different. He had shaved sides that weren't vibrant but still shined. Wore more Converse than  Eddie had in his whole life.

Hen looked out through her window, which was closer to the school gates, and saw Chris walking out but without his backpack smiling.

"I see him at the gate but he doesn't have his bag." Buck and Eddie turned to look and were surprised that Hen was telling the truth. Chris had this thing with bags,  that if he didn't have it on him during school hours, he wasn't functional. That's when they saw a 5,6, light-skinned boy with purple-tipped hair in curls in a messy mullet, running up to their son with a backpack on his body and holding Christopher's bag for him on the other.

Eddie's eyes bulged, he barely even got to touch the bag, including Buck. He wondered how Christopher allowed the boy to hold his bag as carelessly as he was. As the two teenagers looked around, Christopher saw the minivan, smiled, and waved. The boy next to him doing the same. Buck, Chim, and Hen waved back smiling.

Not Eddie, he was still in shock and protective dad mode. As the boys walked over Eddie inspected the kid closer. He got a weird feeling and immediately disapproved. Then again he didn't know him so judgment was base level.

"Never would've thought Christopher hung out with punk rock kids," Chim commented making Hen snort and Buck smile while glancing at the back seat diagonal from him. Hen moved back through the open middle and sat in the very back seat. As the door opened, Eddie adjusted himself in the driver's seat so he could look at the pair better.

"Hey everybody!" Christopher said cheerfully.

"Hey!" Was the synchronized greeting. When nothing came out of Eddie except a soft smile, Chris raised an eyebrow but chose to ignore it for now. Turning to his friend while reaching for his bag Christopher spoke.

"Thanks again Manny, I'll text you when I get home." The blonde said whilst putting his bag on the floor of the van. Raising his hand waiting for Manny to do the same.

"Más te vale menso." He replied in Spanish while dapping up Chris. Walking away after Chris closed the car doors, he put on his headphones and walked off down the street.

"Who was that?" Christopher gained a weird expression, not because of the question in general, but because of the tone his dad used. Is he angry at Manny?

"My friend. Why?" Laughter came from the other three "adults" in the vehicle while Eddie started the van giving Christopher more confusion than before. After dropping off the other two firefighters at their respective homes, the family of three headed home. Once inside, Eddie wanted to start asking Chris about Manny but the person of interest interrupted with a phone call. Unintentionally.

"Hey, big man! How's the homework Garcia gave us? N-no! Oh, come on! Another Delta math-, I swear he secretly hates us-,..." The sound of conversation drifted away as Christopher dashed into his room for privacy. A small laugh pulled Eddie from his thoughts.

Turning around to glare at the man who he loved oh so much, but would very much beat up for making fun of him.

"What?"

"Yeesh, spicy Díaz, my favorite. Wish  I could have you to myself early." Buck sauntered over whilst pulling his lover in by the waist. Getting a petty pout from the shorter one.

"Siguele, aver como te va. Don't act like you're not worried either." Eddie sassed as he placed a soft kiss on Buck's lips, the latter happily reciprocating. Pulling away, smiling Buck sighed.

"Nah, especially cause I already knew." He informed his husband, who's eyes widened in shock. "I walk into Chris' room to put some clothes away and saw the Discord call open,... and their messages." Buck looks down somewhat shamefully.

If Eddie was immature, he would ask what the messages had said. However, today was not the day, he needed to know Buck's opinion. (He'll press him for details later when they go to bed) Smiling with jaw agape, he couldn't help but chuckle at his pale lover with blue eyes.

"So you're telling me that, you were judging me, for being too snoopy of my son.." burying his face against Eddie's shoulder to save embarrassment, "And you-!"

Laughing slightly cut him off, to be fair, he was laughing too.

"YoOU decided to SCROLL through our little boy's messages?? You?! The 'laid back' parent?!"

Cackling at this point Eddie was smiling uncontrollably whilst watching Buck wallow in shame.

"You guys okay?" Chris said smiling at how affectionate they were being peeking his head out of his door. The pair turned to look at their son. Damn, he'd gotten tall over the time he'd entered high school.

"Yeah, we're good bud. We're just laughing at something." Buck assured the blonde boy.

"Okay, hey is it okay if I go over to Manny's tomorrow after school? It's his birthday and we wanted to spend time together," Despite the emotional manipulation tactic(taught to him by Buck no doubt) Eddie caved and agreed to let him go, reluctantly, as long as he texted when they went anywhere different location-wise.

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

So be it the next morning Christopher was gone for school earlier than Eddie and Buck were up for their 10-hour shift, and he got suspicious. The last time that happened Christopher made pancakes and burned Eddies. On purpose. Called it revenge for when he was a kid who couldn't fend for himself. He got noogied for a good bit after that one.

Looking at his phone after brushing his teeth, he saw a message from Chris. Saying he left early with some friends because they were stopping by the store near the school. They were grabbing snacks to eat in class because their teacher didn't care as long as they multi-tasked(they wouldn't), and finished their online notes(they won't).

Looking over his shoulder, Buck smiled in awe. He looked so proud of his son that it made Eddie's heart melt.

"He's growing up now huh?" Eddie nodded but stayed silent. Raising a brow in concern, Buck turned the shorter firefighter to face him and gently lifted his face with his index finger. Poor Papa Eddie, had small tears forming in his eyes. "Awh, Eddie, mi amor. It's okay."

If you think Buck didn't hold Eddie for a solid 3 minutes whilst rocking slowly from right to left? You're wrong. He even moved his hands against the man's face and kissed his forehead. Pulling back into the hug, Eddie nuzzled his head in Bucks' muscular figure.

"Don't forget he still needs us." Eddie knew that, but the thought of Christopher one day leaving to be on his own was terrifying.

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

And need them he did. How did it go so wrong so fast? At first, it started like a normal workday. Mess with Chim and Ravi, gossip with Hen, work out with Lena, answer calls, and help Bobby make dinner. Stuff that was unexpectedly expected. That is till 1:30 when a call from a school. Saying that there was an active shooter in their walls.

"It's at Roosevelt," Bobby said without wanting to go into detail. Everyone in the back seat froze and gazed upon Eddie and Buck who quickly interlocked hands to try and pace their breathing to focus. "Think you can handle it?" Immediate nods from the pair answered. The others smiled solemnly.

Once arriving at the school they noticed police officers everywhere around the school, thank god, and students across the street on the far side of the park. They caught sight of Officer Morales, a good friend of Athena's, talking to the Principal.

Athena went up to them once seeing their arrival.

"Whoever it is, it's a student. The cameras Reid hacked showed no footage of anyone sneaking in on school grounds. I need you guys to go in and find some kids that are still in the building-" A loud series of gunshots were heard. People near but far enough away from the danger could be heard crying, yelling, or swearing. Reluctantly Athena looked to Eddie. "Christopher is in there still. Along with four others. We need to hurry. My group will flank left, you go right, I want this child caught."

Without wasting another second, and no time to fully think about what she said, the team applied bullet bulletproof vest underneath their jackets and broke a window to get in through the science labs. Walking around as silently as possible they tried finding the shooter without giving them a hint of an idea that they were inside. 

Granted, shattered glass in an empty room isn't the quietest. Walking around Eddie's heart was beating quicker than ever. Of all things, why a shooter at his son's school? Then Eddie thought back to what Christopher had asked him yesterday. Poor Manny must think today's the worst birthday ever.

Hearing a crack, they froze. Getting ready to duck into cover in the classrooms or run across the hallway. The sound of running gets nearer, with a shadow then rounding the corner to face them. Manny.

The sigh of relief from the kid was the opposite of what the firefighters felt. The boy was covered in blood and his hair was more messy and gross from sweat. Bobby prayed that it was someone else's blood in an attempt to trick the shoot. Manny scanned each of them till running up to Buck and Eddie.

"I know where Chris is! Come on!" He whispered. Looking at the other firefighters he gave them information on where the shooter was. "She's on the top floor, I drove her away from where Chris was and looped around. She thinks I'm still up there."

So it was a girl. Snapping out of it Bobby radioed Athena and told her to meet upstairs to corner the shooter and catch her.

"Her?" Athena's surprised voice could be heard.

"She's the daughter of a gun shop owner. She must've been pissed enough about Monday morning to pull this," Monday? "Careful, it's not a pretty sight in room S-16." This poor kid. Following Manny down the hall he came from, they made it to the Library and headed to the back.

Digging through the ripped wallpaper, he opened up a hidden room. Inside Christopher was having a panic attack, holding a pair of long scissors. Once seeing Manny he dropped them and lunged into the taller kid's arms.

"Manny! Dads!" The boy said hugging his parents whilst his friend watched. Taking a good look at him, Christopher wasn't injured. Smudged blood from hugging Manny in the relief of seeing his friend alive.

"We gotta get them outta here," Buck said before shots were fired upstairs.

"Go, I need to find Angie. She's still in the upper bathroom. I saw her text." Manny told Christopher, almost forgetting the adults were still there. Seriously?

"No time, come on!" Eddie yelled and went to pick up Chris. But Manny was two steps ahead and grabbed his arm running away. Groaning Eddie and Buck ran after the pair. Eddie was cursing in his head, what the hell is wrong with him!? Putting them in jeopardy like this.

Seeing them stop abruptly, Manny pushed his arm against one of the fire escape doors. It looked like one of the other students propped it open to let others out in case they were still inside. When Eddie and Buck reached them, Eddie walked through the door and tried, key word tried, to drag them towards the truck.

"No, I need to get to Angie! She's still in there!" Manny yelled out trying to rip out of Buck's hold.

"Manny! She's gonna be okay, I know you don't trust law enforcement but these are good ones. They're my family," Chris calmed(reprimanded??) his friend and led him towards the truck. Once they got to the truck, Hen ran over to inspect the injuries on Manny while Eddie checked Christopher to double-check if he was injured or not. A thump broke the inspection though. Looking up, Eddie saw Manny lying down in the truck with Hen panicked.

"Manny!" Chris yelled, leaning over his friend trying to wake him up.

"Oh my god-, Eddie I need gauze for pressure, he was shot in the stomach!" Scanning the boy, he noticed the splotch of blood on his white shirt over the torso was getting darker. Also spreading and staining the vehicle along with the boy's jacket. A brief sight at the jacket let Eddie read out a name on a patch on his right arm. U.S. Navy Airforce it read.

"Shit! Buck! Grab Chris!"

"No! Buck let me go! Manny!" Chris yelled trying to break free from his pop's arms. Looking back at the scene the kid was barely breathing but needed serious medical attention quickly.

"We need to get him to the hospital. Now!" Nodding her head, Hen and Eddie transferred him to one of the ambulances and rode off to the hospital nearby. 

"Stay with us kid, just a little longer!" Manny was looking around the ambulance looking at Eddie trying to respond to him. "No, no, no, don't talk, focus on breathing. I need you to stay with me! We're almost there!"

Looking out the window of the ambulance, Eddie's heart broke more. The sight of leaving Christopher behind in Buck's arms, still trying to break free and run after the ambulance. Eddie didn't doubt tears were streaming down his son's face.

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

Later after arriving at the hospital and dropping the kid off, Eddie asked the nurses, whom he knew personally from all of his and his husband's escapades, to give him updates on Manny. She agreed relieved after inspecting the file quickly and said she'd let him know anything that happened.

After an hour of searching and a shot police officer, they were able to catch the girl responsible. Apparently, on Monday morning one of the teachers shamed her for her behavior. Saying it was her attitude wouldn't get her far in life especially because she didn't have a mom. the teacher didn't apologize and the people who she asked for help didn't do anything about it. That doesn't excuse the shooting and the lives it cost. The teacher she tried to get wasn't even hurt after the fact.

Parents were crying whilst firefighters and police officers consoled them. Returning to the scene for any additional tasks, Eddie scanned the area looking for his team. After catching sight of Buck and Chimney, he and Hen ran up to them.

"Where's Christopher?"

"Carla took him home, Bobby let me call her to make sure he was away from here," Buck said from behind him. Looking around slightly Eddie saw Ravi sitting on the curb with his head in his hands. "Ravi was up with some of the officers and Bobby trying to get the shooter. She aimed her gun at Ravi and a kid hiding in the corner jumped in front of him. It went right through his skull. Held him in his arms and took his parents into the building to mourn." Eddie grabbed Bucks' hand and walked up to Ravi.

This poor guy couldn't catch a break. Looking up, Ravi revealed his bloodshot eyes and pale face.

"It wasn't your fault," Buck said leaning on one knee with his partner copying. Putting an arm on the shoulder for comfort. Shaking his head, Ravi bit his lip to stop more tears.

"I'm sorry Buck, but right now I can't believe that. I don't think I ever will either."

After that Bobby told them all to go home and spend time with themselves and their families. Once opening the door to their house, Eddie and Buck were tackled into a hug by their son and then a softer one from Carla. After she left, Eddie gave Christopher an update on Manny. He was stable but wouldn't leave the hospital for a few days.

"Do you know his parent's phone number? I don't know if they followed to the hospital after getting a phone call." Chris gained a pained expression and rubbed his eyes, pushing his glass up in the process, before responding.

"They aren't home, they're in Miami. They're truckers, so they're never really around." Eddie took a glance at Buck who was looking down at the table saddened even more. "They're good people, just not around a lot. He was mainly with his uncle till last year. I can't say more than that, it's personal and should come from Manny."

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

The next morning school was canceled for the next two weeks. Along with encouragement for parents to seek therapy for their kids. Chris already had one, but Manny had become a concern now in Eddie's mind. Birthday at the same time as shooting and almost dying was not a good combo.

"When Madison pulled out her gun she was in the English room. Me and Manny were walking down the hall from turning in papers when we heard the gunshots. We thought something loud hit the floor till she came out, saw us, and shot. I froze, but Manny reacted and shielded himself in front of me. Grabbed my hand and booked it downstairs. I was able to pull the fire alarm in time whilst someone else called the cops. Angie was the one that wasn't in the room so she dialed 9-1-1." By the end of retelling the incident, Chris was sobbing in his father's arms, trying to speak but couldn't.

After a small breakfast, they all headed to the hospital and saw the multitude of parents in the waiting room. Some with tears, others with anger on their face. Some blank.

"Why are we here?" 

"This is where we brought Manny, figured you'd want to see him. Plus he deserves a good party for his birthday. Sixteen's a big one." Chris brightened up at the idea but went back to somber at the idea of Manny connected to tubes keeping him alive.

"Hey there, you visiting that kid you brought in yesterday?" the same nurse from the other day asked. Smiling Eddie nodded, holding up a bag with a cake inside. They stopped at the store quickly to buy a mini one. Eddie hoped he loved carrot cake. It was the only one they had.

"If that's okay. Don't wanna overwhelm him after yesterday." Buck coaxed, probably trying to subtly tell Chris they might not let him in due to not being on the emergency list.

"Yeah, honestly better you three than no one at all." That brought frowns to Eddie and Buck. His parents weren't home yet then. Going up the elevators and walking the halls down, they got to the room. Taking a deep breath Chris opened the door and saw Manny awake looking at something on his phone. Looking up he visibly relaxed yet still looked worried. Meanwhile, Chris was just happy to see his friend alive running over to hug him.

Buck had his arm over Eddie's shoulder and leaned his head on the latter. This kid wasn't so bad. And he deserved so much better than what the universe handed him this week.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary334

8/19-20/24

monday - tuesday

finished nosferatu today.

rather good! it's hard to have much to say about it, the photography is rather crazy and impressive. it's also interesting to think about orlock and his class relation, what he might symbolize, one thing that would have been lost on me had i not really thought about it for a second is just how vast the wealth gap on display in the film is, i'm used to being in this world of extremely visible capital which announces itself, but orlock really is an expression of something ancient, less about the wealth of some land owning baron, more about almost feudal anxieties, that he brings old forms of malady with him, to keep people beneath him, to prevent them from following their desires, he represents what the wealthy all wish for in some sense, the ability to turn back time for all others but themselves, to keep people trapped in their systems, and to spread that as a plague. it's insane that the movie expresses that so well, i didn't imagine that silent film would not be capable of that i suppose, it's just always surprising when anything is able to make points like that.

like i expected... ellen did die though, which is very sad. rest in peace... your eye shadow will be remembered forever. it's interesting how in the film the only way to terminate the evil is to make it forget itself, and also to sacrifice a woman to make that possible. i say interesting but really it's telling, the valuation of virginity and sinlessness, evidently sexist ofc, not that it's worth scolding the work for that or something it's just useful to note that i guess.

tomorrow, i think i'll watch 1-2 man ray shorts... and if i wish to something by lubitsch again? maybe... maybe...

today i did work on music, though only one song, but i got drums and some extra stuff down for it, plus the mastering chain figured out on that one... getting closer to the sounds i'd like. tomorrow i need to get drums down on another and get it all exported and everything.

i also wrote today!! i got something edited, i need to do another pass on that and then i wanna submit it, maybe 2 more passes actually, and then i got something new started, i think i should try to continue that tomorrow too... it feels good to write. now i'll read a little more of dennis cooper's book while listening to this, and then sleep:

it feels useful to listen to this right now... sorta gets at what i'd like to get things to sound like... as in the room sound sorta... the heat of it... that kinda thing more than idk, exact instruments??? if that makes sense... it sounds rather well produced, to me, this record/comp... i forget what it is... i need to do some stuff with toms though, definitely.

i should sleep... must sleep... cuz i'm sleepyyy,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[winterscaptain]

intellectual guesswork.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: another ajf update that requires absolutely no context to enjoy! i love you all so much. send some extra love to your favorite writers this week :)

one quick thing - if you’re on my taglist, please consider dropping a reply or a reblog! i love to see what you all think, and it encourages me to keep going :) it’s also getting a bit long, and i want to make sure my mutuals and people who engage are seeing everything - tumblr sometimes has a hard time with a lot of mentions. 

words: 1.6k warnings: none!

summary: “ignorance of the law excuses no man - from practicing it.” - addison mizner. au!may 2008

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next? edited: january 12th, 2021

You all settle into one row. Aaron’s on the end beside you, looking very sharp in a crisp black suit, his favorite Rolex, and a settled kind of confidence you’ve only seen in him a few times. It’s like he’s in his natural habitat. 

Aaron’s record as a federal prosecutor speaks for itself, of course, but you’ve never seen him in action. As often as they can, the bureau’s leadership sends him in as an expert witness. This time, the case happens to be one of yours. The judge hasn’t required a sequestration for Aaron, so you get the treat of sitting together in the courtroom. 

He’s scoffed and mumbled snide remarks under his breath all morning. You’re just itching to see him get up on the stand and give this joker an education. 

Emily leans over, whispering in your ear. “I promise you’ve never seen anything like this before. Hotch is going to rip this clown to shreds.” 

You stifle a laugh and look over at Aaron. He heard her. Leaning toward you, he murmurs, “All my JD does is collect dust. When I use it, I’d like to enjoy it.” 

“Your Honor, the prosecution would like to call our expert witness, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, to the stand.” 

He takes a breath and rises, buttoning his suit jacket and crossing the courtroom. His presence commands respect and everyone in the courtroom seems to shrink before him. 

The prosecution’s questions go over smoothly, and the defense attorney stands with an unreasonable amount of confidence. 

Emily leans over. “He thinks he can get Hotch with at least one of these questions, and he might. But just watch.” 

You nod, taking everything in. 

“So you’ve stated that it was your profile of the killer that led you and the police to my clients door that night.” 

“Behavioral analysis was a factor in our investigation, yes.” 

Without hesitation, the attorney follows up. “And was behavioral analysis also a factor in the Olympic Park bombings case in Atlanta?” 

“Yes, it was.” Aaron’s eyes and tone never waver, no hint of arrogance or cheek. 

“And was that suspect you identified,” the attorney asks, far too aggressively, “Richard Jewell, ever convicted of the bombings?”

The prosecution objects, and you watch Aaron. Every part of him observes the proceedings with an outwardly detached interest, but his eyes are alive - strategizing and anticipating. It’s like you can see the wheels turning as the lawyers bicker. 

 The judge ends the squabble. “I’ll allow it.”

Aaron, now with permission, answers simply, “No, he was not convicted.”

“Because he was innocent. Your profile led you to the wrong man.” 

Oh, give me a break. It takes everything in you not to scoff and you can feel Emily’s eye roll.

“Jewell was not the perpetrator, but if you look at the real Olympic Park Bomber, Eric Rudolph, you’ll see that our profile was dead-on.” 

Dead-on indeed, Aaron. 

“Well, how about we look at the Baton Rouge Killer? Your unit said that he was white and living in the city. He was Black and from the suburbs.”

Aaron’s eyes narrow and you feel Spencer shift beside you. Emily shakes her head. “Don’t worry,” she whispers. “He always recovers, never in the way you’d expect.” 

“How do you know?”

Emily’s face pulls into a little smile. “I’ve read the transcripts. Hotch is terribly clever.” 

“You said that Dennis Rader, the B.T.K. Killer,” the attorney continues, “was divorced and impotent. He turned out to be married with two kids.” 

JJ huffs, and you hear her whisper to Spencer, “Can we quit with the sermon?” 

His lips turn up. “Just wait.”

Dave leans over and stares them down over Derek. Stop talking. 

All of you look down at your hands like chastised children, but your gaze floats back to Aaron right away. 

The prosecution objects again, this time on the grounds of preaching. The judge forces a question, and the attorney turns back on Aaron.

“Having been wrong on those cases, isn’t it possible that you were wrong about Brian Matloff?” 

“No.” Your chest squeezes. He’s completely firm in his denial. 

How does he do that?

“Fact is,” the attorney continues like Aaron didn’t speak at all, “behavioral analysis is really just intellectual guesswork. You probably couldn’t tell me the color of my socks with any greater accuracy than a carnival psychic.” 

“Objection!” 

Her outburst is unnecessary. Aaron has a plan. His eyes track to you as if to check in. Are you paying attention? 

If you weren’t watching before, you’re certainly watching now. Always. 

“Withdrawn.” 

“Charcoal grey.” His flat assertion makes you gasp and you immediately cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the sound. 

The attorney turns around. “Well, look at that,” he exposes his socks to the court, and they are, in fact, charcoal grey. “He got one right.”

Aaron’s not finished. “You match them to the color of your suit to appear taller. You also wear lifts and you’ve had the soles of your shoes replaced. One might think you’re frugal, but in fact, you’re having financial difficulties.” 

You do your best to school your expression and remove your hand from your mouth. Checking down the row, you see six smirks watching the witness box. 

“You wear a fake Rolex…”

And you’d know. 

“...because you pawned the real one to pay your debts. My guess would be to a bookie.” 

Is he smiling?

“I took this case pro bono.” There’s tension in Mr. Charcoal Grey’s voice. You can hear it behind the false confidence and it pulls a smile from you. “I am one of the most successful criminal attorneys in the state.”

Hotch continues, completely bypassing him. “Your vice is horses.” There’s definitely a little smile on his face now. “Your Blackberry’s been buzzing on the table every twenty minutes, which happens to be the average time between posts from Colonial Downs. You’re getting race results.” Your smile gets wider, and Emily grabs your hand. 

“Just watch.”

“And every time you do, it affects your mood in court, and you’re not having a very good day.” There’s something that looks almost like concern on Aaron’s face, but you know it’s nothing if not facetious. He’s ripping this poor man to shreds without changing a single thing about his presentation.

I love - 

Don’t finish that thought. 

Why not?

Remember how he’s freshly divorced?

I know, but have you seen him?

“That’s because you pick horses the same way you practice law -” 

You lean forward and Emily follows, her thumbnail between her teeth. 

The final blow. 

“- by always taking the long shot.” 

If this was any other setting, you’re sure the entire team would be on their feet, shouting and jeering. But alas, you’re in court, so you settle for a wide smile and a suppressed laugh. Amused brown eyes meet yours from across the room and you shake your head just the tiniest bit. I can’t believe you.

His lips twitch. 

“Well, you spin a very good yarn, Agent, but as usual, you’ve proven nothing.” He’s just trying to recover something, anything left of his dignity. He fails, miserably. 

“If I’m not mistaken,” Aaron says, his eyebrows raised just a little, “the results from the fifth race should be coming through any minute.”

Just then, his Blackberry buzzes on the defense table. “Why don’t you tell us if your luck has changed?”

You raise your hands to your face to cool the rising heat in your cheeks. 

“Your honor, this is - “

The judge takes matters into his own hands. “What do you want me to do? Either show us your Blackberry or cut him loose, counselor.”

Hotch and the defense attorney share a loaded look. It’s a battle of wills. 

Aaron wins. 

“Nothing further.”

+++

When you all leave the courthouse, you practically latch onto Aaron’s arm, completely floored. 

“How did you do that?”

He laughs and Derek jumps up beside him, shaking his shoulders. “Come on, Hotch. That was incredible.” 

“Why have a law degree if you aren’t going to use it?”

+++

He offers you a ride home later that evening and you take him up on it. You’re both still in the car, idling in front of your house. 

“That really was impressive today,” you admit, your eyes on your hands.

You can feel his soft smile rather than see it. “Thanks. I know it didn’t quite go the way we wanted as far as the case itself, but there’s more to come.” 

“It’s never as bad as it looks in the first couple of days.” 

“Exactly.” He sighs. “Thanks again for being there today. It’s…” his lips twist as he thinks, “nice to have the team around.” 

You reach out, squeezing his forearm before immediately letting him go. “Of course. We’ll always be there for you. Plus, there’s nothing better than watching you tear blowhard lawyers to shreds in a court of law.” 

“I’m not sure that’s exactly how it went.” 

“You’re kidding!” You laugh. “That’s just what happened. The man left without half his soul! You absolutely tore it from his body.”

The pair of you quiet, and you move to get out of the car. He stops you with a hand over yours as you unclip your seatbelt. “Really. Thanks for being there today.” 

“I can’t emphasize this enough - it was my pleasure.” 

Enough of a pleasure as it was, his smile in the dark of the car is the best part of your day.  

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @writerxinthedark @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss  @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @garcia-reid-lovechild  @cevanswhre @colbyskoalas @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321

[buckleyirondad]

our mistakes (they were bound to be made)

Christopher and Denny have to work together after Buck is knocked unconscious, while they're playing a game of hide and go seek.

Christopher Diaz Week, Day 6: Chris and the Firefam Kids + “It’ll be fine. I think.”

Read on AO3

Denny’s house was a maze, so meant it was the best place for hide and go seek.

Christopher was knelt behind the couch, covering his eyes with his hands, counting to twenty while Denny and Buck went to hide.

He bounced onto his feet, throwing his hands up into the air, “I’m coming!”

“Wait!” Buck’s squeaked, darting past, “I wasn’t ready!”

Christopher turned his head, rolling his eyes, “Buck!” He shook his head, “You’re out!”

Buck ignored the rules, running towards the dinner table.

Christopher opened his eyes wide, when he noticed that Denny’s electronic toy police car was in the middle of the floor and Buck was about to stand on it, “Buck, look out—”

Buck’s left foot trampled the car and the wheels slipped under it, which sent Buck falling backward, arms flying out as he yelled, he hit the floor with a loud crash.

“Buck!” Christopher shouted, he ran over, making his voice louder, “Buck!”

Buck’s eyes were closed. That was bad. He must have hit his head pretty hard.

It wasn’t like when Buck fainted in the garden at his party. That time, the adults were there to help, but now, there was no Dad, or Auntie Hen, or Uncle Chimney to save the day.

Buck only had Christopher and Denny, he was spending the whole day with them, while Christopher’s Dad and Hen worked extra shifts at the firehouse.

Christopher got onto his knees, poking Buck’s shoulder, “Buck?” He was scared, like when he couldn’t find Buck after he fell off the firetruck during the tsunami, and he thought he would lose him, like he lost his mom, “Buck?!” He grabbed his arm, shaking it, “You gotta wake up!”

Paisley skipped over, barking as she went, she stopped, nudging her face against Buck’s arm. When he didn’t move, she barked louder.

Christopher shouted as loud as he could, “Denny!” He kept rocking Buck’s arm, “Denny, we’re not playing anymore!”

There was noise upstairs as a door was opened, “What?” Denny called, “Why?”

“Buck fell over!”

Denny appeared, standing at the top of the stairs, “Oh—” He ran down quickly, eyes open super wide.

“He’s hurt.” Christopher scrunched his nose, he pointed, “He tripped on the police car.”

Tears were in Denny’s eyes and his chin was wobbling, “I left it out, I didn’t—”

Christopher remembered something his dad said once when he stubbed his toe on Christopher’s toy box, “It was an accident.” He told him, “It won’t happen again.”

“Okay—" Denny wiped his arm over his eyes, “We need to get help.” He stepped closer, “He’s not up, and that’s not good—that could be, um, a concussion, I think, that’s what Mom says it’s called.”

Christopher had heard the word before but wasn’t sure what it meant, “We should phone 911.”

“Umm…” Denny nodded, “Buck put his cell phone on charge, I’ll get that—” He ran into the kitchen, and then returned with Buck’s cell, “I’ve never done it before.”

“I have.” Christopher held up his hand, taking the phone, “When my Abuela fell over.”

Paisley licked Buck’s face, “Paisley…” Denny knelt by her, stroking her fur, “Don’t do that.” Paisley listened, laying her chin on Buck’s arm, almost like she was a guard dog.

Christopher pressed the emergency button on Buck’s phone, dialing 911, he placed the cell near his ear and waited for somebody to pick it up.

Denny reached out, squeezing Buck’s hand.

Something warm spread over Christopher’s chest when May answered the call with, “911, what’s your emergency?”

“May?”

“Christopher?” She sounded worried, “What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

“No,” He hiccupped, “I’m at Denny’s house, Buck is taking care of us, but he won’t wake up.”

“Who won’t wake up?” She asked, “Denny or Buck?”

“Buck.” He sniffled his nose, “He tripped over a toy car and hit his head.”

“Okay…” He could hear her typing, “Is anybody else there? Is Harry with you?”

“No, it’s just us,” Christopher shook his head, “Harry is coming over later.”  

“Okay.”

Denny squeaked, getting up on his knees, “Chris—”

Christopher lifted his head, clutching onto the phone, that’s when he saw what Denny could.

Buck was opening his eyes.

“He’s awake!” Christopher pushed his arm, “Buck, you okay?”

Buck’s blinked slowly, gasping out in pain, “Uh—Chris?” His voice sounded funny, “Den—”

Denny put his hand on Buck’s shoulder, “Mom said you shouldn’t move when you hurt yourself really bad,” He told him, “You could make it worse.”

Buck’s face crumpled up, “Okay.”

“Chris.” May called through, “You still there?”

“He woke up, but he sounds weird,” Christopher blinked tears out of his eyes, “I think he’s hurt bad.”

“He’ll be okay, Chris, and I’ll stay on the phone until help arrives,” She told him, “Your dad and Auntie Hen are already on their way with the team.”

Christopher could hear his heart in his ears, “Dad’s coming?”

“Yeah.”

Denny held up his head, “Is my mom gonna come?”

Christopher nodded.

Tears ran down Denny’s cheeks, “My moms are gonna be so mad at me!”

“Chris—” May spoke, “What’s happening?”

“Denny’s scared—” Christopher got up onto his feet, “But it’s okay, he’s got me.” He sat by Denny, wrapping an arm around his back, “It’ll be fine.” He whispered to his friend, hugging him, “I think.”

Denny’s shoulders moved, up and down, “I didn’t mean to hurt Buck.”

“It was an accident,” Christopher reminded him, “Your moms will know that, and we won’t ever leave toys out again.”

Denny nodded, “We won’t.”

“The team is one minute away, Chris,” May told him, “Do you think one of you can open the door?”

“Denny—” Christopher hiccupped, “Can you open the door?”

“Yep!” Denny got up onto his feet, Paisley followed, barking as she went, “Paisley—” Denny picked her up into his arms, and then opened the door, “You can’t go out there.”

The sirens of the truck and ambulance come from outside.

Denny jumped, running back over, “They’re here!”

“Who—” This time, Buck’s eyes were open properly, “Christopher?” He lifted his head a little, “Ow.”

“You fell over,” Christopher squeezed his hand, “But it’s okay.”

May asked, “Are the team there yet?”

Buck’s eyes found the phone.

“They’re coming in,” Christopher told May, “And Buck’s awake.”

“Good.” May sounded relieved, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Bye, May!”

***

Hen sped over to close the back doors to the ambulance as Chimney jumped into the passenger’s seat at the front. It had been a day of medical and nonsense calls, Hen thought that maybe somebody had jinxed them, but she didn’t say anything to her partner, Chimney had a history of overreacting.

She watched as Eddie pulled open the engine door, he looked bored out of his mind, but that was what happened whenever they worked a shift without Buck; Eddie looked as enthusiastic as a sad puppy.

“Wait—” Bobby held up his arm, clenching his fist to halt what they were doing.

Hen stopped, while Chimney poked out his head, and Eddie froze, one foot through the door, “What is it?” He asked, noticing the same fear in the captain’s eyes that Hen did.

“I spoke with dispatch,” Bobby kept his voice calm, “It was May, and um, the call was from Christopher.”

Eddie’s eyes were saucers, as he stammered, “I don’t—”

Protocol flew out of Hen’s head, “Is Denny okay?” She asked panicked, “Is—”

Bobby cut her off, “It’s Buck.” Panic had gripped him tight, but Hen could understand that Buck was his kid, at the end of the day, “He was knocked unconscious and according to the boys, he’s speaking gibberish.”

“Okay—” Hen calmed her breathing, “We better go, he could have a concussion.” She cast her eyes on Eddie as she headed to the front of the ambulance, he sent a nod her way as he clambered into the engine with shaking hands.

Hen trusted Buck with her Denny, with her house and dog, as much as everybody else, so whatever this was, it wouldn’t change that, because accidents did happen, but it didn’t stop panic from settling on her chest, trying to work out what could have happened.

It was meant to her mom who took care of the kids, but she’d gone to rekindle a friendship with an old friend, Buck jumped at the chance to help.

“I’ll drive—” Chimney climbed over the controls, taking the driver’s seat as Hen climbed into the passenger seat, “You okay?”

Hen nodded as he drove out of the station, “Just thinking.”

“It’s Buck,” Chimney reassured her, “He’ll be fine.”

Hen started second-guessing herself, wondering if either she or Karen left any shoes hanging around on the floor, that could have sent Buck flying. Maybe it was that damn carpet in the living room that they all kept tripping over, Buck could have caught that at the wrong angle and hit his head off the coffee table.

She clenched her fists, fear shooting up her spine. She could only imagine how Denny and Christopher were feeling, they were young, probably terrified, but confident enough to make a 911 call, that pride from that spread across her chest like wildfire.

She wished that she was in the engine with Eddie; to reassure him, tell him that everything was going to be okay, as much as they all loved Buck, Eddie was his boyfriend, they worked together brilliantly, but whenever one was hurt, the other was stuck in overdrive.

He had Buck and Christopher to worry about, fret over what could have done wrong if the boys would be able to move on from what happened.

Pulling up onto her own road, parking outside her house, was the strangest sensation and Hen felt unwelcomed by her neighborhood.

“We’ve got this, Hen,” Chimney opened the door, hopping out, as Hen spun, opening hers with a trembling hand, jumping onto the sidewalk below, which felt soft like carpet, under her feet.

Eddie moved over, slowly, without the confidence he usually had.

“Hey.” Hen caught his wrist, squeezing his hand, “It’ll be okay.”

The front door was open.

Bobby cleared his throat, holding up a bravado as he headed up the porch stairs, “Boys?”

Making it inside, reality didn’t crash around Hen, until Denny sprung up, wrapping himself around her with a loud exclaim, “Mom!”

“Hey….” She released Eddie’s hand, wrapping an arm around her son, “We’re here now, baby.”

Chimney’s voice was soft, “Hey Buckaroo.”

Hen lifted her head, eyes wide.

Buck was sitting, laid heavy against the wall, with Christopher, knelt beside him, holding his hand.  

“I told him not to move,” Denny said, “But he said he could.”

“Buck should know better,” Chimney shined the torch in Buck’s eyes, “Right?”

“I just hit my head,” Buck slurred, “Not too bad.”

“Sure…” Chimney teased, reaching behind the check for a lump, “Well, at least it’s not bleeding.”

Eddie didn’t say a word as he stepped over, crouching in front of them, “Hey.” He managed to say, smiling at them, “How we doing?”

Buck sighed softly, “We’re great.”

Christopher blurted, “I called 911!”

“Great job, buddy,” Eddie praised, ruffling Christopher’s hair with the palm of his hand.

Bobby bent down, eyes scanning Buck for further injury.

“Oh, hey Cap,” Buck smiled, “Sorry.”

“Accidents happen, Buck,” Bobby reassured him, “Just a shame it’s you.”

Hen chuckled, “Again.”

“So, what happened?” Chimney asked, checking Buck’s pulse, “Do you know how long you were out?”

“Umm, not long,” Buck scrunched his nose, “A few minutes, maybe.”

“You’re gonna need—”

“To go to the hospital,” Buck sighed heavily, “I know.”

“Athena is right,” Bobby crossed his arms, “We do need to wrap you in bubble wrap.”

“Ha.” Buck chuckled, “Maybe.”

Denny clamped his hand around Hen’s, not saying a word, “Hey, sweetheart.” She sang, “You’re being uncharacteristically quiet.”

“Denny’s scared.” Christopher spoke up, “That you’ll be mad.”

“Umm…” Hen was caught off guard, “Mad?”

“You can’t be mad,” Christopher told her, “It was an accident.”

The clogs in Hen’s brain were working overtime, trying to figure out what was happening.

“I tripped over the toy police car,” Buck explained, “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Oh…” Hen understood, “That’s—”

“I’m sorry, Mom!” Denny exclaimed, “I won’t do it again.”

Hen didn’t have the confidence or time to be angry, “It won’t.” She used her calmest “mom” tone, gripping onto her son’s hand, “Buck’s gonna be okay.”

Christopher got up onto his feet, moving over, “Told you it’d be fine.” Denny moved forward, enveloping his friend in a hug.

Michael’s voice filled the room, “What the hell happened here?”

Hen turned on her heel, to find a concern Michael and confused Harry, hovering by the front door.

Bobby clapped his hands together, “Buck here, took a quite the tumble,” He pressed his hand to Buck’s shoulder, “But the boys saved the day.”

“Of course, they did,” Michael crossed his arms, “You doing okay, Buck?”

Buck waved his hand out, “Oh, I’m fine.”

Everybody rolled their eyes.

“Sorry, boys,” Buck said, darting his eyes from Christopher, to Denny, and Harry, “I was gonna take you to the carnival.”

“That’s fine, we can go another time,” Harry stepped inside, “We won’t go without you.”

Michael smiled fondly, eyes on his son.

“Well,” Hen pressed her hands on Denny and Christopher’s heads, “I think these two deserve a pizza.”

“I was going to meet David for lunch,” Michael said, “But I’m sure we’d be happy to welcome some guests.”

Eddie tilted his head, “You sure?”

Hen stuttered, “Yeah, we could—”

“Of course,” Michael held up his hands, “These two are the heroes of the hour.”

“That’s so cool!” Harry skipped over, hugging Denny’s other side, wrapping an arm back, holding onto Christopher’s shoulder, whispering, “You’re awesome.”

“Now,” A mischievous grin grew across Michael’s face, “Has anybody called Athena?”

Buck groaned, resting his head against Bobby’s shoulder as he squeezed his eyes closed.

“Oh,” Hen clapped, “Mama bear is going to come out.”

Bobby hummed, “I wonder if May’s called her.”

Buck blinked slowly, “May?”

“She took the 911 call.”

“Oh,” Hen laughed, “Small world.” She smiled, looking over to Eddie, who was fuzzing over Buck while simultaneously keeping an eye on Christopher.

Watching Denny, Harry, and Christopher, rock side-to-side, in their hug, the panic pushing against Hen’s chest, fell away.

[98shawns]

trusting you; trusting me. (t.c.)

dating in the workplace may be tough, but your new hopeless romantic of an assistant makes it worthwhile. 

(coworker au, boss x assistant au)

chapters: one, two

words: 2500

warnings: mentions of nsfw (none in this chapter unfortunately, but def in the next !!)

a/n: long time no post !! i wrote this such a long time ago and it’s collecting dust so i might as well post without worrying too much about how it will do, right? lol, hopefully i can get to writing more !!

Keeping a poker face is easy until the new employee transferring into your department was the guy you’d just spent the night with.

You keep your expression contained as you make a beeline towards your office. This wasn’t the plan. The plan was for you to let off some steam with some good looking guy at the bar and then leave without a trace the morning after. He was nice. Style, charisma, and a boyish charm all wrapped in one handsome package. Just your type. 

And you believe that you’d caught his fancy as well. He slipped his number written down on a napkin that sat wedged into your car’s sun blocker. (You’ve been pondering on whether or not you should shoot him a message all morning).

But as much as you enjoyed his company, he wasn’t supposed to be following you around.

‘I’m going crazy,’ You’re quick to frantically grab the file placed on your desk earlier this morning. Surely enough, Timothée Chalamet would be starting as your new assistant.

/////

“Fancy seeing you here,” is how Timothée greets you when you let him into your office. You bite your cheek as you frown at his words.

“Stop addressing me so casually. I’m your superior.” You lean back in your chair and offer Timothée a seat in front of your desk. His lips press into a straight line as he responds with a curt nod before eventually sitting down in front of you.

The atmosphere was heavy but you find yourself feeling somewhat relieved upon seeing the uneasiness in Timothée’s expression. It seemed like he wasn’t expecting an early reunion either.

“Let me get straight to the point,” you start, leaning forward and clasping your hands together as you rest your elbows on your desk. You see Timothée’s body visibly tense up.

“We’ll be spending a lot of time together from here on out. In regards to what happened last night, we can’t let it affect our practice here. While we’re in this building, we’re coworkers first. Got it?” Timothée nods in a silent agreement, and you try your best to not drown in how uncomfortable you had to make the situation for the both of you. It was protocol for situations like these, but you hated the thought of being professional to the man who sweet-talked you for the duration of all of last night. 

“That’s all. I know it’s a lot for your first day, but try your best. Most of our coworkers are all great people so hopefully they can help you adjust. If you need anything, just ask.” You end the conversation with a send-off you once read in a self-help book about excelling in management. It was just a standard between a manager and a worker; hopefully a standard the both of you will be able to upkeep.

You eventually stand up and extend your hand to give your new assistant a handshake. He stands with you and clasps your hand firmly.

‘He has a good handshake…’ You think about how odd it was that you held this very hand last night. It was cold and fragile yet still big and protective when he held you. He had long fingers and surprisingly soft skin; his hands were noticeably beautiful. You told him so as you dozed off in the wee hours of the morning.

Your touch lingers a few seconds longer than it should before you let go.

“Thank you.” Timothée breathes a sigh of relief as he bids you farewell and you let yourself fall back into your chair after he closed the door behind him.

/////

You were always the last to leave, especially on a weekend. Even a few years ago when you were stationed at the cubicle in the back of the office, one row of fluorescent lights would stay illuminating your space.

You were a hard worker with big plans. Everyone in your relatively new branch was around your age so you were well liked, admired, respected, or at least acknowledged by your coworkers by the time you eventually got promoted to a managerial position. The youngest manager in the company. You deserved it, and you would make sure that you’d aim higher. Nothing would come between you and your performance.

Well, maybe nothing but the new assistant you accidentally slept with a week ago.

“Can I talk to you?” You jump at the sound of Timothée’s voice. He looked up at you as he sat on the couch outside your office with his suit jacket slung over his shoulder and his briefcase resting beside him. Your hands grasp the door frame as you check the clock on your office wall. He’d been waiting for the last two hours for you to come out.

“Of course! You could have just knocked at 5:00–“

“It... isn’t about work.”

By the time you turned back to him he’d stood up. He fidgeted with his hands, putting them halfway into his pockets before eventually folding them in front of his body. You think of all the possibilities that would play out if you said yes and you consider telling him to wait until Monday when you’d see each other at work again. In a professional setting. You knew along the lines of what he was about to ask, and now wasn’t the time to get caught up in your emotions. Not when you’d only been promoted two years ago. 

But for some reason, something pulls at your heartstrings as you observe Timothée’s demeanour. He seemed so… innocent as he tried his best to be patient while he waited for a response.

You sigh and step outside your office, closing the door behind you. You stood still for a moment before caving.

“Have you eaten yet?”

When his face lights up, you realize that your new assistant may have you wrapped around his little finger. 

/////

You don’t know why you chose to come to Denny’s to have this conversation with Timothée, but it somehow felt right. Eating mediocre breakfast foods drowned in maple syrup helped to mask the fact that the two of you being together like this was, well, wrong.

“Are you adjusting well?” You break the silence. Well, silence other than the sounds of forks and knives clanking against each other. Timothée swallows a ball of nervousness down with his chocolate chip pancakes and nods.

“You’re right, everyone at our branch is really nice.” He smiles politely and it makes you feel uncomfortable. He seemed so free spirited when you first met him, but that was when you were just a person at a bar. Not his boss.

“That’s good.” You smile back. It’s not like you weren’t guilty either; he wasn’t just a charming boy approaching you with a cheesy one liner anymore. He was your employee.The two of you sit in each other’s silence for a moment longer.

“Thanks again,” He starts. Your eyes avert to his. 

“For what?”

“You’re not treating me any differently even though it must have been hard to stay professional for a whole week. You even let me keep my job.” 

“You thought I was going to fire you?” You ask, somewhat in disbelief. The more you think about it, firing him would make sense if you were heartless. He nods casually. “I was 100% positive when you called me into your office Monday morning.”

You try not to express your concern towards Timothée’s confession. It wasn’t your fault you accidentally slept with your new assistant but it obviously wasn’t his either. As long as you stayed professional during work hours, what was the problem? It’s not like he wouldn’t be able to redirect your calls or organize your schedule. The last thing you’d want was for him to feel uncomfortable towards you; he was your employee after all.

Yeah… your employee.

You wonder if that’s why you take the extra liberty of comforting him, and before you know it words of consolation becomes friendly conversation. It’s alright if you spend the next two or three hours chatting about nothing and everything at the same time … you weren’t at work, after all. There was no need to be so stiff around each other.

“We should get going,” You check the time: 11:30 p.m. You should have wrapped this up hours ago. You don’t notice Timothée’s smidgen of a smile as he watches you gather your belongings. He eventually stands up to grab your trench coat off the coat hanger beside your booth. You scoff as he holds it up for you, eventually helping you slip into it before he shrugs on his own jacket. 

“Together?” The monotonous waitress, who’d been taking care of you since you entered, punched a few buttons on the cash register. You noticed that she’d let her hair down and put on a sweater as you walk up to the counter to pay for your meal. She must be getting ready to go home as well.

“Actually–“

“Yes, please.” Timothée cuts you off by giving his card to the waitress, effectively stopping you from rummaging through your purse.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, watching Timothée’s face as he punches his card combination into the machine. He only smiles when he hears the beep of an approved transaction, and thanks the waitress before finally turning towards you.

“You paid last time.” He shrugs. You feel your heart flutter as he reminded you of the weekend you spent with him.

‘Oh no,’ You think, following him out into the parking lot and back to your car. This wasn’t going to lead to where you thought it was going to, would it…? He joined you for dinner, he listened to your mindless conversation, he helped you with your jacket, he paid for your food…

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

“Timothée,” As the two of you walked out onto the parking lot, he’d just opened the car door when you called his name. He stares up at you with a grin, his hand still resting on top of the car door. You swallow your nervousness. “what did you really want to talk about?”

The subtlety of Timothée’s faltering grin is hard to catch. He was well aware of it too, how tonight didn’t feel like a simple get together between two professionals… actually, it felt quite the opposite. Almost like a date. 

“I like you.” He says, completely serious. You bite your cheek. “A lot.”

“We’re coworkers.”

“Can we not be more than just coworkers?”

You frown at his question. Maybe it was because he was young, but Timothée’s aggressiveness and passion makes your heart squeeze in your chest. You wanted to ask that question too, why couldn’t you be anything more?

“I’ve only known you for a week. I see you every weekday because I’m your boss. It’d be too much for us,” You start, finally stepping into your car and slamming the door shut. Timothée follows, and you keep on chewing at your cheek. You shouldn’t be so defensive; you had to stay professional. “at least not while we’re so young.”

“But we’ve got our whole life ahead of us, shouldn’t we at least try? We’re at the age where we can’t just waste our chances while they’re running out.” You let out a scoff at his words as you start the car, but you don’t say anything in response. You didn’t want him to know that his words resonated deeper within you that they should have. 

You start the drive to his house in silence, and Timothée sighs as he lets his back collide with the seat of your car in frustration. Your relationship as coworkers was not coming to a very good start, but you suppose that it had to start somewhere. Plus if he was looking for a relationship with someone, there were plenty of great looking people at the office. He’d get over it and so would you.

“We’re here.” You say, pulling in the parking lot next to Timothée’s apartment building. Timothée turns to you one last time, and with a sigh, unbuckles his seatbelt.

“Thank you for the ride.” You nod and keep your eyes glued to your steering wheel, waiting for him to leave. You don’t see his gaze avert to your eyes, then to your lips. Timothée opens his mouth but says nothing, only pressing his lips together as he opens your car door to step out onto the pavement beneath you.

You feel yourself sigh in relief when he shuts the door. Don’t look back, you tell yourself. You wouldn’t be able to control yourself if you did. Instead you fiddle with your sun blocker to distract yourself.

Thoughts of Timothée swirled through your mind, especially what he had said before you drove him home. Don’t waste chances while they run out.

You let out a halfhearted scoff. You could only wish to think like that. To be impulsive and take chances as they arise but you can’t. Sure you were jealous, but you’ve got too much on the line… too much to risk.

You lower your sun blocker and notice a forgotten napkin slip out and onto your lap. Timothée’s number from last week. You frown.

You were just a coward.

Fuck it. 

“Timothée, wait!” You call, practically jumping out of your car before running towards your assistant. You get as far as the front entrance before you see that he’d already gone inside and stepped into the elevator.

He only notices you behind the glass doors when he turns and looks up, just as the elevator doors begin to close.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, just after he stops the elevator from closing with his arm and runs towards you. He opens the door for you and you slowly walk inside, panting from your run over.

“I have to tell you something,” Timothée nods expectedly, and you rub the back of your neck.

“I really don’t think it’ll work out.” You start, watching the hopefulness in Timothée’s eyes die out. Just a bit. 

“I barely know you– I liked you from when we slept together but that’s it. I was wondering where we were going to go afterwards as well, but when I saw you at the office last week, I thought I had my answer.” You step closer to him.

“But now I’m wondering… I really don’t know anymore. Maybe this isn’t going anywhere– I can’t be so sure. But when I’m looking back at the past seventy years, what’s the first week, really?” Timothée’s lips part as you look into his eyes, and you feel a warmth rising up to your cheeks. “Wanna go out?”

The corners of Timothée’s lips immediately upturn at the sound of your words, and his hand shoots up to his mouth to cover his smile. Though, you end up seeing it anyways as it travels to his eyes.

“If you’ll have me.”

[wackybuddiemewbs]

Random Buddie Fic Snippets - no title, just (bad) vibes

Here’s to another snippet of things that ghost through my Word files. This one’s particularly headache-inducing for me personally. For one, trigger warnings galore. And then I have *checks file* 41k (!!!) words worth of non-fic noted down, but it’s really just unassembled bits and pieces of mostly dialog. Grrrrrrr. 😖

Since such a fic would take a lot more planning... which is basically the antithesis of me for all intents and purposes... I pester you with snippets like they are pestering me. Said it before and can only reiterate: I make you suffer with me. *cackles*

Basically, the story plays on the idea that Eddie and Buck grew up together due to plot convenient purposes and meet again at the fire station after years apart. Anyway, here’s to more madness mingled with angst! Cheers!

Buck slings his duffel bag over his shoulder when his phone vibrates. Sighing, he shifts his weight to take it out of his pocket and take the call. A smile creeps up his lips when he sees the picture flare up on his screen.

“Hey, what’s up, Mads?”

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that you were right about that little bakery downtown. It’s so worth the twenty minute trip,” she nearly groans. And Buck can relate. When he found that authentic Mexican bakery on a long run through the city, he may or may not have shed a few tears of happiness. And he may or may not have bought pastry worth a hundred bucks.

Totally worth it to run all those extra miles for the carbs, though.

“How many conchas did you have?” Buck asks, chuckling softly.

“I’m pleading the fifth.”

“Did you drive back to get more?” he questions, though Buck is fairly sure what the answer is already, which comes promptly, “Which is why I might be late for work.”

Buck laughs, leaning back against his car. “They are in the top 5 of conchas I ever had, which is saying something. So yeah, I get the feeling.”

And he should really know, he’s had the best in the world and no. 2 and 3 also. Though those are not up for sale.

“So, I need a bit of distraction to keep myself from digging through the remains of the bag before I make it to the car,” she tells him.

“Sure, what do you want to hear?”

“Howie told me that you’re getting someone new on the team today. Are you excited?”

“… Oh, ugh, sure.” Buck can feel his jaw cramping at that.

“You know you just sounded more excited about me being on a sugar high thanks to Mexican pastry than you are about your new teammate arriving.”

He’d hoped to avoid that conversation before he got over with it. Because that’s how he normally rolls with it. He gets over with it.

Works with band-aids and most situations that give you discomfort.

But Maddie has maybe not the sixth but seventh sense apparently big sisters seem to inherit by birth, so it appears that not even the most amazing conchas up for sale in all of Los Angeles will spare him having that conversation now. Which is the equivalent of tearing duct tape off, but slowly.

“I’m a huge concha fan, what can I say? And sure, it’s cool. It’d be nice to have a partner on the team, like, permanently, like Chim and Hen, more like.”

Buck rolls his eyes back as far as they will into his skull. It’s a small wonder that Maddie doesn’t buy his bullshit. He was fine just dodging the topic until now, it’s what normally works best for him. But yeah, Maddie just knows how to coax it out of him, and he loves and hates her for it.

“Talk to me, Buck.”

Buck looks up to the sky. “… I guess I’m just a bit nervous.”

“You are nervous? Don’t you think it’s up to the new teammate to be a bundle of nerves?”

“That’s kind of my thing, though,” Buck argues.

He has been ever since Bobby announced that they’d get a newbie, not a probie, but someone to be on the team with them. Dutifully, Buck laughed at the comments about how Bobby seemingly hired him a babysitter to make sure he doesn’t do reckless stuff all the time.

The nervous energy settled in when he got home that day and his leg wouldn’t stop bobbing well into lying in bed, trying to sleep. He only fell asleep halfway through reading the Wikipedia list of minor planets named after people.

“Then why do you feel nervous?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You know you can tell me,” she says softly.

Buck closes his eyes. He understood by now that yes, he can. But that doesn’t mean he wants to. Most of the time, Buck wished he didn’t have to tell anyone anything ever again and simply exist in the here and now. Because the here and now is sunny and tastes of pretty damn awesome conchas.

“I know it’s stupid, but…” His voice trails off.

And maybe she can read his mind, Buck wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be the case, because Maddie goes on to say, “You know he’s not taking your place, right?”

“What? Yeah, I mean…” Buck chews on his bottom lip. Whenever Maddie starts to talk like that, he feels like he’s sitting with a therapist. And suddenly, what he wants to believe are just his antics sounds like food for the shrinks.

“This is supposed to be your partner. Someone to have your back, not stab you in the back,” Maddie points out.

“Rationally, I know all that. It’s just…” He stretches out his legs.

“It’s just what?” she asks in a gentle tone of voice.

“What if he’s better than me?”

What if they realize that he’s expendable after all? What if someone comes along who can do things better than Buck without the attitude? What if he can’t prove his worth anymore because that guy can do it just as well, maybe even better?

“Then I will be glad because that means someone capable is watching out for my baby brother,” Maddie answers, pulling Buck back to the current conversation, not the fictional ones inside his head.

“What if we end up hating each other’s guts?” Buck continues. He had to restrain himself from actually typing a list of all those questions on his phone when his mind went spiraling upon receiving the news. Because that’s what’s been going on ever since Bobby announced. And Buck knows how stupid it is, but his brain didn’t get the memo. There are so many what ifs that it’s making him dizzy thinking about them.

“Then you talk about it like actual adults. And anyway, no one can hate you to your guts. You’re amazing.”

Buck has to fight hard not to blush. “Thanks, but you’re biased because you’re my sister.”

His heart still beats a little faster every time he says those words out loud. Something that comes so light and casual these days, though it isn’t. It is closer to what it should be. Because it should be casual, natural, given.

But apparently, the world didn’t get that memo yet. Seemingly a pattern.

“And as your sister, I’m also always right.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

He laughs. She chuckles back.

“Listen,” Maddie continues. “Just be yourself. You’re going to figure it out. This is exciting, Buck. More people to add to your family, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks,” he croaks.

“I’ll call you during lunch time, unless you’re out on a call. And then I want all the details on the newbie.”

“Alright. Pro tip: Put the bag of pastries in the trunk of your car. Only way to keep your paws off of them while driving.”

“I may actually crawl back, but yeah, it’d require a lot more effort.”

He smiles. “Drive save.”

“Will do.”

“Alright, I’m heading in,” Buck says, pushing away from his car. “Or else I will be running late, too.”

“Love you, little brother.”

“Love you, too. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Buck hangs up and stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

Maddie is right. There is nothing to be nervous about. He has a team now. No one is leaving. New people are arriving. That’s how it works. That’s normal. And he gets to pester the newbie. So he should really be excited, as Maddie said. Buck knows he should focus on that. On how great this could turn out to be. On having a partner. Someone to have his back. All the time.

He sucks in a deep breath as he comes to stand in front of the door leading inside the fire station.

“The door is not closed,” he mutters with closed eyes, grabbing the handle. Buck pushes inside. He is greeted by the familiar hum of the fire station coming to life. People are talking over coffee, some are still fastening the buttons on their shirts as they make up the stairs.

And there’s no place he’d rather be. Buck knew that the moment he first walked into the station for the first time, and that assessment hasn’t changed since.

Buck makes for the locker rooms to change, not wanting to run late like Maddie. Once changed into his uniform, Buck finds himself a little more at ease. Athena once pointed out that they wear those uniforms as a way of protecting themselves. You take them off after work and leave all the bad behind that you’ve witnessed on a call. For Buck, the other way is just as true, though.

When he puts on that uniform on, he can leave his anxious, knee-bobbing self behind and do something meaningful. Because that’s what he found here, beside the team that means so much to him. He found a purpose. A way of answering a calling that lies far back in a past he can’t and won’t remember. To save lives.

Buck looks at his reflection in the mirror, straightens out the collar, makes sure his hair sits perfectly. His glance lingers on the name tag a moment longer, brushes his fingers over the metal plate, the one thing he can’t fix or straighten out.

But that won’t make me flinch. Ever.

“Buckaroo! Time for coffee and talk! I need new material on that show Denny and you are watching and that you need to update me on, so I don’t have to watch it!”

Buck smiles as he closes the locker to see Hen standing there with two cups of coffee.

“Coming.”

But that fixes a whole lot already.

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

Hen sips her coffee in silence as Bobby goes on about who is doing what for the day. She is glad that she isn’t assigned truck cleaning duty. That’s one of the best things about newbies and probies coming in. They get to do the dirty work for a bit. She had to jump those hoops, too, like everyone did, so it only seems fair.

Chim nudges her in the side, pulling her out of her musings. “Have you seen the newbie yet?”

She nudges him back a bit harder to tell him wordlessly that he is supposed to stop doing that. “If I had, don’t you think I would’ve told you by now?”

“Just saying, being late on the first day is not a good sign.”

“Can I help you with something, Han, Wilson?” Bobby calls out. “Care to share with the rest of the team?”

Buck laughs beside them, earning himself a nudge from Hen. That kid is going places sometimes, but Hen learned to love him fiercely after he stopped being a punk.

Fine, he’s still a punk sometimes, but we got to see there’s a heart of gold underneath all the punk and muscle and hair gel.

He grew on her the way he managed to grow on anyone, even the Captain who doesn’t like to admit that more than anyone around the station. He fired the boy first week in, and it was well-deserved, but he proved capable and kind.

Hen knew she was done for this humanoid golden retriever when she fussed over not having a babysitter for Denny and Buck jumped in after he’d just done a double-shift. She and Karen were still working things out and he just made the room, even though the boy deserved bed more than anyone else. Still, he took Denny to the park, finished homework with him, and got him to go to bed even though the kid is not so much a negotiator as he is a small dictator when it comes to bedtime. Karen and she found Buck passed out, snoring like a lawnmower, a book still in his lap while sitting next to Denny’s bed.

“Nothing, Cap,” Chimney answers. “Just sharing excitement about the newbie.”

“You’ll meet him shortly. He had to pick up his gear first and talk to the higher-ups another time. Once he arrives, you can pester him with questions as I know you will.”

“On it, Cap.”

Bobby rolls his eyes, but then his mind goes back to the clipboard and the rest of the chores yet to be divided among the firefighters on shift. The rest of the morning routine goes without further incident, so the three are soon walking down the stairs to their designated task of checking their stocks on medical equipment.

“Okay. That is a beautiful man,” Chimney says, suddenly stopping in his tracks.

Hen trains her eyes on the dark-haired Latino, putting on a shirt. That should be the newbie, then.

“Where’s the lie? And I like girls.”

“Eddie…,” Buck breathes beside her.

Hen whips her head around at the sound.

“Wait, you know this guy?” Chim asks, but Buck doesn’t say anything. Instead, he starts to walk towards the new guy, or almost staggers, she should rather say. The newbie only takes notice of him when his head pops out from the shirt.

“Buck?”

To Hen, it feels like the two just go in slow motion while the rest of the fire station is crazy and busy as always. As though the whole world disappeared around them.

She can’t make out whatever words may be exchanged between them before the new guy covers the last few steps between them and pulls Buck against him in a tight hug. Shock is written all over his face, but also huge relief. Though Hen honestly wished they stood the other way around, because she would like to know just what expression is flitting across her little golden retriever’s face.

“What on earth is going on here?” Chimney mutters.

“I ain’t got no clue.”

The newbie pulls away, smiling over both ears, both hands deftly resting on Buck’s arms. Even though Hen still can’t see Buck’s face, it seems that the guy is doing all the talking for a change. Then he is hugging him all over again.

“I repeat, what on earth is going on here?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Before they can overcome their paralysis, Buck starts to move, gesturing behind himself. The new guy nods with the brightest of smiles, not once letting go of Buck’s arm as they start to walk towards them.

Her confusion is multiplied by the way Buck carries himself, eyes downcast, looking nothing but nervous.

Did someone exchange the 118’s golden retriever this morning, or what’s going on here?

“... can’t believe we meet again in this place of all places,” she can hear the new guy say as they approach.

“S, same.”

Buck is stuttering. To repeat the repeat: What on earth is going on here?

“We have so much catching up to do.”

“Yeah.”

“Buckaroo?” Hen calls out, or maybe demands. She no longer cares for the details here. She needs to get down to the bottom of this. Fast.

“Oh, sorry, I just… this is Eddie.”

“Hi.”

“Hi Eddie, it is a pleasure meeting you. We will greet you good and proper in only just a moment. Hold the line,” Hen says, before turning her attention back to Buck. “Now to you, Buckaroo. Spill the beans.”

“Yeah,” Chim agrees.

But Buck is not forthcoming. Boy looks like a fish out of the water, his mouth opening and closing without any sounds coming out. This makes the sirens ring inside Hen’s head, not the ones at the station. Because their Buckaroo never stops talking, even when he should sometimes, and even when he wants to stop talking, he will keep talking. So him not finding anything to say may or may not force Mother Hen to have to look after her punk chick here.

“We grew up together,” Eddie says after a pause, still all soft smiles and maybe even softer curls, by the looks of it. Hen will worry about that later, too. “I honestly had no clue he was working at this station, let alone that he was in L.A. Color me surprised. Abuela will not believe this.”

“Abuela?”

“My grandmother. She’s the one who fostered him before…,” Eddie continues, but then stops himself when he notices the look of sheer panic on Buck’s face. “They do not know this.”

Buck shakes his head.

“Dios.”

“Wait, you were in foster care?” Chimney almost cries out.

“In Texas?” Hen adds, her mind still short-circuiting thanks to that input.

“Yeah. I was adopted by the Moores after that.”

Chimney gapes at him. “You were adopted?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait, they don’t know about that either?” Eddie asks, now almost as frantic as they are.

Welcome to the club, hon.

“Now they do,” Buck mutters.

“But Maddie isn’t adopted. I should know.” Chimney lifts his index finger.

“Right,” Hen agrees.

Eddie makes a face. “Who’s Maddie?”

“My girlfriend, Buck’s sister.”

“You have a sister?” Eddie slaps his hand against Buck’s arm, shock taking the place of confusion.

“Wait, you grew up with him and don’t know his sister?”

“It’s a long story,” Buck sighs.

“Like how you’re Texan?” Hen scoffs.

Buck holds up his hands. “Okay, guys, can we stop spiraling for a second?”

Hen opens her mouth to give him a piece of mind, but she’s abruptly cut off by their captain standing at the top of the stairs. “Buck! I could use a hand up here!”

“On my way, Cap!” Buck yells back, the amount of relief to opt out of the conversation more than imminent. “Sorry, duty calls!”

“Hey no,” Chim hisses, but Buck isn’t having it. He pats Eddie on the shoulder. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay.”

With that, he starts to jog, or rather run, up the stairs. All watch him go, before their eyes fall back on the people standing right in front of them.

Well, if that’s not awkward.

“So, ugh. Hi again,” the new guy says, smiling sheepishly. “Eddie Diaz, your newbie.”

“Hi. Hen Wilson.”

“Howard Han, but you can call me Chimney or Chim. And why I’m called that is between me and God.”

“Okay. That may be only the second most confusing thing to happen on my first day.”

“We don’t normally act like this,” Hen tries to reassure him.

Chim makes a face. “We don’t?”

Hen nudges him in the side hard enough to make Chim gasp.

“Wilson, Han, you’re supposed to get on with the stocks!” someone calls out.

“You’re not our boss!” Chim shouts back at what turns out to be that jackass Lambert from B-roll no one likes because his attitude stinks about as much as his aftershave.

“But Cap is and he told me to tell you to move it!”

“I hate that guy,” Chim grumbles.

“I think I’ll like it here,” Eddie chuckles.

“They are so young and innocent when they join,” Chim snorts.

“Welcome to the 118,” Hen says, giving the younger man’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I suppose you should go up there as well and talk to the captain.”

“Alright, I’ll see you around.”

“Most certainly.”

“That was only mildly threatening,” Chim laughs, rolling his eyes well before Hen jabs him another time.

“Good to have you here,” he adds.

“Indeed.”

“Good to be here. See you later.”

“Later,” both say in unison.

Eddie smiles at them before climbing up the stairs.

“You try to get a hold of your boo, I’ll see what info I can squeeze out of Cap or Buck, whoever I get my hands on first.”

“Aren’t we supposed to get on with…”

Hen glowers at him.

“I said nothing.”

“Less talking to me, more talking to your girlfriend.”

Chimney makes a mock salute, before walking away while fiddling with his phone. Hen let’s her gaze wander up to the gallery with a grimace. Something is not right, but she is going to figure it out. Because Hen Wilson keeps all her little chicks on track, even more so now that they got a new one to take care of.

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

Eddie tosses the sponge into the water bucket. Getting some of the crappier chores for the day is something he fully expected to happen. What he didn't expect, not in a million years, was running into Buck. Eddie’s head is still reeling because of it. And for what it seems, the same is true for Buck.

Buck.

To say that he seemed shocked is an understatement. Eddie knows the way Buck expresses panic. He’s grown up making sure the kid breathed instead of keeling over when it hit him, so Eddie knows that this was not just surprise, this was fight-or-flight level panic. Eddie knows by now he was so panicked because his colleagues didn’t know about the fostering or adoption – and he could still kick himself for bringing it up unawares.

He jumped to the conclusion because Buck used to talk about it freely to anyone who asked, especially after he was adopted by the Moores. Because it was his way of signifying to the rest of the world that he’d made it from being abandoned to finding friends and family. So Eddie assumed that Buck wouldn’t act any different around his colleagues.

Far from it!

“Eddie, my friend.”

Eddie nearly jumps when Hen and Chimney materialize next to him.

Speaking of…

“Hi,” he greets them.

“How’re you liking it thus far?”

“The detergents smell not as bad as some others do,” Eddie snorts. “But I’m pretty sure that’s not what you came here to ask me about.”

“Just so that you know, you can tell us anything,” Hen says in that mild tone of voice, though Eddie is pretty sure she only says it this way not to scare him away.

“You are looking for bribing material on Buck, I take?”

“We always appreciate it, but we are more like… trying to get up to speed. Until you came to the station, we didn’t even know he’d been fostered,” Hen answers.

“Or adopted,” Chimney adds.

“In Texas.”

Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, about that. So he actually found his sister?”

If seeing Buck nearly floored him, hearing about his sister was definitely not adding to Eddie’s calm.

“Yes, she’s my girlfriend. You’ll get to know her soon enough.”

There is a part in Eddie that’s very much relieved to hear that Buck found at least part of his family, but another part of him hurts at the news just as much. Because that means Buck likely learned some very uncomfortable truths about his past that won’t have added to the man’s confidence.

“Back in Texas, we knew nothing about where he came from, including whether he had siblings or not. There was an assumption, but no one could be sure.”

“How old were you by the time your grandmother fostered him?”

“I was eight years old.”

“Eight years old… Buck made it sound like he and Maddie were out of touch like, only by the time she got to know Doug.”

Eddie frowns. “Who’s Doug?”

“No one you want to know.” Chimney shakes his head.

Eddie shakes his head. All of this starts to make less and less sense. Why didn’t Buck tell them about any of this? Why didn’t he when he apparently found his sister? Why are they about as clueless as he is, even though they’ve been working side-by-side with him for how long now?

“We lost sight of each other when the Moores moved away from Texas. So they aren’t around anymore?”

Hen shrugs at that. “Let’s say we’ve never met them, never talked about them, or seen any pictures.”

“Kid arrived here with a travel bag and the will to become a firefighter,” Chimney adds.

Eddie can’t help but smile at that. “That sounds like him.”

“You sound pretty clueless actually, and not gonna lie, that is strangely reassuring,” Chimney snorts.

“I prepared for meeting many new people today. Not my best friend back from childhood.”

“Aw.” Hen clutches her hands in front of her chest.

“I just hope he’s not mad at me.” Eddie grimaces. There is something tugging at his heart, just thinking about it. A memory that goes way back in time. When he thought he’d messed it up with Buck forever and always, but he forgave quicker than Eddie could forgive himself.

“I don’t remember our Buckaroo being capable of keeping grudges for long.”

“Then that hasn’t changed at least,” Eddie sighs.

“I think you two should definitely get something to drink after work, reminiscence about the good old times. Catch up. Report back to us in the morning,” she says, her voice trailing off.

“You are aware that they are childhood friends.”

“But I can be far more intimidating.”

“I think getting something to drink and catch up is actually a good idea,” Eddie ponders. “So thanks.”

“You, I like.”

Eddie grins.

“You still missed a spot, though.”

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. Buck made some good friends here, for what it seems. And he is more than glad for it. They can surely figure this all out.

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

Waking up this morning, Buck thought his biggest worry would be to sort himself out with regards to the newbie and his standing on the team as a result. While that remains true, he just didn't imagine for one hot second it may be Eddie of all people in the entire universe.

Eddie.

When Buck saw him at the station, he didn’t know how to breathe. Even though he hadn’t seen him in years, he knew instantly, only to know that he suddenly knew nothing anymore. Buck used to think he made his peace never seeing Eddie again after they moved away, but then Eddie was hugging him and all those things Buck made sure to bury deep in the ground started to crawl up through the dirt, scratching at a way too thin surface.

And now he is sitting at a bar, nursing his alcohol free beer – because he doesn’t drink when driving, he has to get people out of cars thanks to that behavior way too often, thank you very much. He is at a bar. With Eddie. His Eddie. Because Eddie invited him to get a beer after the shift, and Buck didn’t know how to say no.

Story of my life, isn’t it?

“… I don’t even know where to begin,” Buck admits after a while of awkward silence spreading between them, wherein both men just started peeling the label off of their bottles of beer.

“Same. I mean, you got a sister.”

“Yeah, ugh, I would have told you that, but Chim is still over the moon with her, so of course he mentioned her before I could. They are cute together, but at the disgusting kind of stage,” Buck ponders.

“I’m just so happy for you that you found your family, Buck.”

He manages a feeble smile. Because Buck knows that Eddie means it, understands it perhaps better than most. Because he had to deal with it growing up, had to deal with Buck dealing it growing up.

“I didn’t really find Maddie. We just… happened to meet again. Like us two did today.”

Eddie blinks at him. “Really?”

Buck nods his head. The universe always had the strangest kind of humor when it came to him.

“She’s a dispatcher now. We talked over dispatch for a while, not knowing who we are to each other. We decided to hang out. As friends. She didn’t know people in the city after she moved there only recently, so we also went to a pub and… we started to talk.”

Déjà-vu much, huh?

“Over time, I told her some stuff about my past and, well, Maddie realized that the timing seemed oddly familiar to the brother she thought had died,” Buck continues. “DNA test confirmed it.”

“I was wondering about that,” Eddie sighs, still trying to process that input for what it seems. “I mean, I really put my foot in it, just blurting out with this.”

Buck holds up his hands. “Eddie, no. You had any reason to believe I had told them. I suppose I’ve been blowing this up out of proportions anyway, so this is really just on me.”

“It’s your choice what you want to share with people about yourself, Buck.”

Buck blinks. Sometimes, he forgets how wise Eddie used to be already at a young age. He was also a dumbass a lot of times, but when it came to talking about Buck’s feelings instead of his own, the guy always knew how to make sense of the chaos and make Buck feel like his feelings weren’t just a tedious affair best ripped off like band-aids.

Eddie always understood Buck, even when he couldn’t understand himself. And Buck wants to think that the same was true the other way around, for as long as it lasted.

“Thanks.”

Eddie smiles at him, sipping from his beer.

“Speaking of, thanks to Maddie I now know my official name,” Buck continues, doing his best to sound jovial. “Evan Buckley.”

“Buck-ley. Well, that explains how you got the name,” Eddie ponders, before tilting his head to the side with a cocked eyebrow. “So do I call you Evan from now on?”

“If you want me to call you Edmundo?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Buck sniggers. “You should know better than to tempt me.”

“Evan.”

“Edmundo.”

“This sounds all kinds of wrong,” Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “For me, you can only ever be Buck.”

“Which is convenient, because I can only be Buck.”

There was a brief moment in time when Buck considered changing his name, taking on that identity, the one intended. In the end, he dropped the idea for what he hopes to be for good. He doesn’t know who this Evan Buckley was or what he’d be now. He knows what Buck was like growing up. He knows what the guy is up to these days. And while they have their qualms, he’s mostly at peace with Buck.

Even a name tag doesn't change a thing about it.

Because he’s Buck. And thankfully, Eddie sees it the same way. So maybe he’s not entirely crazy for holding on to that, however schizophrenic it may be in the end.

“Anyway, part of the reason why I managed not to let anyone in on this is that Maddie agreed to run with not mentioning it. We just stuck to the part where we lost sight of each other and found one another again when anyone asked. And until now, no one really questioned the timeline.”

“And no one ever made the connection between Buckley and Buck?” Eddie asks.

Buck shakes his head. “Maddie’s married name is Kendall. She considered changing it back to Buckley after she broke up with her scumbag husband. But when she found out what kind of scumbags our parents are, it was out the window. So no one had reason to question the difference in names and just assumed that Maddie’s birth name was Moore, too.”

“I take that there is no good explanation as to how you ended up in Texas, then,” Eddie sighs. Buck can tell that he’s trying to sound casual, soft, but the white-knuckled grip on the beer bottle is an entirely different story.

“No, not really. As far as we understand it, our parents moved across state borders under the pretense to get treatment for me. Then they just dropped me at a fire station and drove back. They told Maddie I died.”

“Why would they do that? Why would anyone’s parents…?” Eddie shakes his head, disbelief settling in. Buck knows the feeling oh too well. When he found out, it didn’t make sense to him at all. But as more details were added, the clearer the bigger picture became, though it turned none the brighter.

Buck looks around, just to be sure none of the 118 was sent here to spy on them. Once he is sure there is really just them, Buck hunches forward in his seat.

“Well, I was a big, fat disappointment, I guess. They had me to save their oldest son, Daniel. He had juvenile leukemia. I was… I was a savior baby. Just that… ugh, I didn’t save him. My guessing is that they never wanted me, so they gave me away after Daniel died. I was just there for spare parts anyway.”

Buck suddenly feels something cold in his neck, only to realize it’s Eddie’s hand gently squeezing it. Buck tenses for a moment, then eases to the familiarity of the touch, suppressing the urge to lean into it like he used to.

“I’m so sorry. I would’ve hoped for something else to come out of this.”

Buck manages a feeble smile. “It’s fine. I got a sister now I never expected to find. That’s great. Over the moon kinda great. And now I also ran back into you, too. So I’m one lucky bastard after all.”

Eddie’s hand lingers for a while, no words spoken and yet all is said between them. And how much Buck missed that. Not having to say things for them to be understood.

Eventually, Eddie’s hand falls on his shoulder, giving it a light pat before returning to his beer. “So we’re still friends after I spilled to your colleagues?”

“I didn’t stop being your friend after you got so mad for me saying that you couldn’t bake for shit, so you covered a balloon stuck to a cardboard box in frosting and told me you’d baked a cake and I cut the thing only for it to explode in my face.”

“To this day one of my proudest achievements when it comes to pranks,” Eddie snorts, breaking out laughing at the memory.

Buck can’t help but laugh along. Many of those memories got stuffed away alongside the ones he’d buried in the ground. He had no reason to unearth them because he chose not to tell anyone. But with Eddie, those things come back to light and they shimmer like gold, even after all those years of packing on dust.

“Laugh it up all you want, I got back at you eventually.”

“Don’t remind me,” Eddie groans. “I got grounded for a month because you led my parents to believe I’d be stupid enough to have a folder for porn on the family’s computer and made a message pop up every time that the folder was overloaded and created a system error.”

“Yeah. That was a masterpiece,” Buck sniggers. “But anyway. If that didn’t cancel our friendship, I think we’re fairly good with all this here.”

“Then I’m glad. When you fled the scene, I got kind of worried.”

Buck shrugs. “You know me. I’m a whirlwind of emotions, so I thought it’d be best if I took the time to cool down.”

“That was definitely not how you went about it before,” Eddie argues.

And Buck can’t argue with that. Back in the day, Buck just let the storms rage, never minding the consequences. On the job, that’s still how he rolls, but it was also how he talked, how he presented himself. After he got to meet the Diaz family, he stopped hiding a lot of things. He screamed when he felt like screaming and he cried when he was sad. He laughed when he was happy. And sometimes he even cried because he was that happy, but he learned that this was okay. Abuela always told him this and he took it to heart.

At least for as long as I could.

“Which is why I’m working on it. But anyway! Enough of me. Tell me about you. How long have you been in L.A.? What got you here?” Buck asks. Judging by the look on Eddie’s face, his transition of topics is not nearly as smooth as he’d want it to be, but Eddie rolls with it anyway.

“I moved here only shortly, for the job,” he says. “Before that, I was working some odd jobs. Before that, Afghanistan.”

Buck winces. “Shit.”

“Yeah, that’s one way of describing it. After I came back home injured, I couldn’t do this anymore. I had to set priorities differently, and somehow… I ended up in L.A.”

“Fresh start.” Buck nods his head. There is still so much to unravel in just those few sentences. Afghanistan. Injury. Priorities. Eddie tends to hide a lot more in his words, even more so when they are scarce. But for what it seems, he will now get the time to dig deeper. Because that is what Buck knows someone has to do in order to understand someone like Eddie Diaz.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I get that feeling,” Buck says. “Los Angeles is great for that, worked out for Maddie and me, too.”

“We’ll have to drink a lot of beers to catch up on all those years we didn’t hear from each other to wind up having a fresh start in the same city.”

“Then it’s a date.”

Eddie wants to say something, but then his phone vibrates. “Sorry about that.”

Buck holds up his hands. “It’s fine.”

Eddie takes out his phone and checks his messages. Buck can see the instant shift in the other man’s demeanor. He knows that change like the back of his hand, even with years between where they parted ways and now crossed them again. Eddie’s shutting down.

“Hey, uhm, sorry, I gotta head out. It’s urgent,” he says, grabbing his wallet, clearly embarrassed and beat-up for having to leave so suddenly.

Some things don’t change, do they?

“Hey, it’s fine, man. We, ugh, we are stuck together now anyway, right? We’ll find enough time to catch up. It’s a date, after all,” Buck assures him. “Also, you’re not paying for the beer, unless you wanna pick a fight with me. Just go.”

Eddie smiles at him wryly. “Thanks. I’ll pay next round?”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Now off you go.”

“Sorry another time. I really gotta…”

“See you at work!”

“See ya!”

Buck manages to keep up the smile until the door shuts behind Eddie. His shoulders drop and he sucks in a deep breath. He pays for the beers and nearly flies out the door.

He makes for his car and climbs in. Buck realizes only now how badly his hands are shaking. Struggling for breath, he takes out his wallet again and fishes out that one crumpled piece of the past he carries with him whenever he’s not on the job, so to be sure it doesn’t get further damage.

Buck unfolds the faded photograph with shaky hands and presses it against his mouth, breathing hard against it. The tears keep coming, no matter how hard he tries to stop them. They are happy and sad. Desperate and relieved. Everything and nothing. And all that at the same time.

Eddie is back.

Eddie is back in his life, just like that, after the years it took him to accept he’d never see him again. That he’d moved on as he should have.

How do you rip off the band-aid or duct tape for that?

Or maybe that’s just the universe telling him that some things really can’t be fixed.

Because apparently, the universe is still mocking him.

[stardusttkachuk]

Nowhere To Run To

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Word Count: 900

Genre: fluff

Warnings: mentions of abuse

Summary: JJ can’t stop running from what his dad did, not until he runs right into you, who understands exactly what you’re going through.

JJ’s feet wouldn’t stop. No matter how much his ribs ached or his head hurt; no matter how much blood was spewing from his mouth. He wasn’t going to stop running. 

He ran past John B’s. He thought about stopping there but knew John B couldn’t do anything for him. He thought about going for the pogue boat, maybe taking a nap on deck. Yeah. That sounded nice. JJ took a harsh right turn, running right into you.

“Shit,” you curse.

“Fuck,” JJ yells right along with you. He grasps his aching side, only made worse by the encounter. “Ow. Dammit.” 

“I’m so sorry.”

“No. My bad. I didn’t see you.”

“Holy shit, you’re bleeding,” you say, now up on your knees and attempting to tend to the guy you just knocked over.

“Oh no. That’s not from you,” JJ says, brushing you off. He wipes his lip with his thumb. He must’ve bit it when going down, reopening the sore. 

You get a good look at him now. Black eye, busted lip, bruised cheek. Someone must’ve got him good. 

JJ notices the concern written all over your features and tries to back away. He winces though, grabbing his side once again. “You should- you should see the other guy,” he jokes with a groan. 

“Let me get you some ice. At least to take with you to wherever you were running to.” You offer your hand, not really expecting him to take it, but grateful when he does. He lifts himself up with little of your help.

“You from here? I ain’t ever seen you around,” JJ comments. 

“Uh, no. Just moved.” You say, leading him across the bay to a bait and tackle shop. 

The bell over the door chimes when you walk in. “Hi, Uncle Denny!” You call out. The man in question pokes his head up from behind a row of t-shirts, giving you a wave.

“I see you’ve already met the pogues,” Denny says, gesturing to the boy at your side. “Where’s the rest of the crew JJ?”

“It’s just me sir.”

Denny makes a circle around his own eye, then points to JJ. “Your old man?” JJ’s eyes fall to his feet and he nods. “Shit, kid. Y/N, grab him a pack of ice.”

“I was gonna grab him a pack of ice,” you reply, “If you tell me where it is.”

Denny chuckles. “There’s a big freezer in the basement. You remember how to get down there?”

You nod and grab onto JJ’s wrist, pulling him behind the counter and through an office door. There’s another door inside the office and you push through it, revealing a set of stairs. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you? I can protect you from monsters.” JJ teases. 

You roll your eyes, trekking down the wooden steps. Of course the freezer isn’t hard to find, it’s about the only thing down there, besides boxes of extra supplies. You open the deep freezer and pull out a few ice packs, then dart right back up the stairs.

“So. Old man, huh?” You mention, handing off one of the ice packs to JJ. He plops himself into the office chair, lifting his shirt enough to put the ice pack on the biggest bruise on his side. JJ just shrugs at the question and your thoughts go back to when you first ran into him, hearing him say ‘you should see the other guy’.  “Does he look worse than you?” This time you get a head shake.

“But I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” He snaps.

“Why would I feel sorry for you?”

“Because everyone does. Once someone finds out my dad beats me, their first words are I’m sorry, because they don’t know what else to say. So they just feel all bad and shit and I don’t need that. I don’t need your sympathy, or anyone else’s.”

“Okay. I won’t give you sympathy, I’ll give you empathy.” You tug up the sweatshirt you’re wearing, revealing healing patches of yellow and green bruises on your hips, ribs, and stomach. “My dad hit me too. And kicked me. Burned me with his cigarettes, anything you can think of, he did. Denny’s the only reason I’m not dead right now.” You fix your sweatshirt, jumping up onto the desk in the office. 

“Where’s your dad now?” JJ asks.

“Dead somewhere, I hope.”

“Aren’t you worried that if he’s not dead, he’ll find you here?”

You shake your head. “Dad’s up north in New York. The last place he’d look is on the Outer Banks. Besides, he’s been trying to get rid of me since my mom left him.”

“You don’t think he’d go straight for his brother’s house? I mean if Denny rescued you, he’s got to know you’re here.”

You laugh. “Denny is my mom’s brother. My dad doesn’t even know he lives here.”

JJ nods. He gives a small smile and lets out a huff. “I get now why people say I’m sorry when they hear what my dad does to me.”

“Promise me we’re not gonna feel sorry for each other?” You ask. 

JJ holds up his pinky, locking it with yours. “Promise.”

You offer a kind smile before jumping off the desk. “And JJ? If you ever need a place to run to, you know where to find me.”

[spicycreativity]

Intertwined - Chapter 2

Chapter: 2/9

Additional Notes: Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick"

Chapter Content Warnings: N/A, ask to tag

Excerpt: Patton watched, endeared. Seeing Janus laugh was like catching the green flash at sunset, a rare and beautiful sight he never thought he would be lucky enough to see.

Despite last night's promise, Janus was different. Or rather, he was the same: flashing only a token smile at Patton as he draped himself artfully over the kitchen island.

From the moment Janus had set foot in the kitchen, Patton could feel the regression. It was written in the gentle boredom resting atop Janus' features, in the way he made a show of fussing with his capelet. Like he had better things to do, and anything, even the drape of his clothing, was higher priority than Patton.

It hurt, but Patton swallowed it down because it was the only thing he knew how to do, and did his best to make Janus feel welcome.

"Morning!" he said brightly, already reaching for the coffee pot. Despite last night's lack of sleep, he had awoken to his natural rhythm (which was, much to Logan's curiosity, separate from Thomas' own), and immediately set about consuming as much caffeine as he could get his hands on. It had worked its magic, to a certain degree, and Patton found the day much easier to face. "Coffee?"

Janus nodded without making eye contact, glancing instead over his shoulder, then leaning forward to look into the white fog where the hallway turned back into the subconscious. "Don't tell me the others are still sulking?"

That stung. Patton tugged at one of the friendship bracelets encircling his right wrist, reminded himself to be patient. "They're allowed to be upset," he said, polishing his tone to a gleaming, brassy shine.

"What about Virgil?" Janus asked. Patton frowned, remembering how distant he had been, and turned away from the coffee pot to face Janus.

Patton wasn't sure what he'd expected. Janus' face gave nothing away, but... could he be worried about seeing Virgil? Why else would he ask? "Virgil might wander in," Patton said cautiously. "He's a late sleeper."

Janus nodded, studying his nails with a nonchalant expression even though he was wearing gloves. Patton squinted, opened his mouth to speak, remembered something. "Right, coffee." He took a mug down from the cabinet by the refrigerator, choosing a pale blue one with a pink heart on it. They had lots of mugs because that was how a home should be. Extra everything for guests and travelers and family.

"I had forgotten about Virgil," Janus said quietly. "So he's still practically nocturnal?"

"Only sometimes," Patton admitted. Hopefully Virgil wouldn't mind his saying so. It wasn't like Janus was a stranger, after all. "Milk in your coffee?"

"I'll take care of it," Janus said. He was smiling and sitting up when Patton turned to hand him the mug, and although he was no longer draped over the kitchen island, he seemed more relaxed, somehow.

Patton sighed, relief coursing through him at the return of this Janus. His Janus. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yes," Janus said, and Patton wasn't sure whether to believe him. He was so guarded all the time. He never seemed to give anything up by accident. "I suppose you did as well?"

"Actually, I did," Patton said. He leaned over the kitchen island so he could face Janus, who had put his head down, staring fixedly into the shimmering black of his coffee. The set to his jaw was familiar, the refusal to look up. He looked embarrassed, although Patton couldn't fathom why. He decided to continue talking, to make the space more comfortable. "Yup, I fell asleep pretty much as soon as my head hit the pillow. Guess you could say I was frog tired." He winced, grateful that Janus wasn't looking at him, and pressed on. "Anyway! Want me to make you breakfast? I can do happy face pancakes better than Denny's."

"Better than Denny's?" Janus said, finally looking up. All traces of embarrassment were gone from his face; he turned his human side to Patton and gave a crooked smile. "Why, Patton, are you boasting?"

Reflexive shame warmed Patton's cheeks at the call out, but Janus was still smiling. Oh. He was teasing. "Better than Denny's," Patton affirmed. This was new territory, but it felt safe, somehow. Janus was being… Well, nice. Smiling and relaxed, he looked as at-ease as any of the others would. Like he belonged here.

"Who could say no to that?" Janus said. His snake eye lit up when he smiled, Patton noticed suddenly. It wasn't the same as the human side, but then, it was probably hard to get any expression at all out of the left side, what with the scales getting in the way.

Patton smiled, too, and for a moment, all his troubles seemed like distant things. But the respite didn't last and guilt turned in his stomach. He would make enough pancakes for everyone, and deliver them to Roman and Logan if they didn't show up. None of them technically needed to eat, being imaginary; none of them needed to do anything at all. But Patton liked to cook, and the thought of Roman and Logan sitting alone with nothing made his breath hitch. Yes, he would make enough for all of them and then some.

Neither Janus nor Patton made any attempts at conversation while Patton got all his ingredients together. Logan had told him the name for that, some Italian phrase, or maybe it was French. That sounded right. "Hey, Janus?" Patton called over his shoulder, tossing a bag of butterscotch chips onto the counter.

"Yes?"

"Do you know what this is called?" Patton asked, already transitioning to the fridge for the whipped cream.

There was a pause. "...The kitchen?" Janus said.

"No, no." Patton set the whipped cream down on the kitchen island and popped the cap off. "When you get all your stuff together before you cook. I think it's French?"

"Oh," said Janus, his face growing thoughtful. " Omelette du fromage."

"No!" Patton turned away to laugh, one hand still on the whipped cream canister.

"Scout's honor." Janus held up his gloved right hand, facade not cracking for even a moment.

"It starts with an M, I think," Patton said, twisting up his mouth as he tried to remember.

This bubbled over into laughter when Janus said, deadly serious, " Momelette du fromage." That was when he finally lost it, and hid his mouth behind his hand, shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth.

Patton watched, endeared. Seeing Janus laugh was like catching the green flash at sunset, a rare and beautiful sight he never thought he would be lucky enough to see.

His palm began to ache with cold, and he realized he was still holding onto the whipped cream. Remembering his idea, he waited for Janus to surface from behind his hands before brandishing the canister. "Open."

"Shut," said Janus, eying him with obvious doubt.

"Open!" Patton insisted, shaking the can a little.

"Absolutely not!" Janus said. "Here." He finished his coffee in a few swallows and held the empty cup out to Patton. "They do this for dogs at drive-throughs, you know."

"A puppaccino for you," Patton said, filling the mug with whipped cream. He was just about to tilt his head back and spray some into his mouth when Virgil rounded the corner all cloaked in shadows, with his hood up like the Grim Reaper. Patton flinched so hard it almost hurt. "Virgil! Good morning, kiddo!"

"Not with him here," Virgil said, jerking his hooded head at Janus.

The change was nearly instantaneous and it came down in front of Janus like heavy iron bars. He leaned back in his chair, resting one elbow on the back of it so he could toy with what few strands of hair peeked out from under his hat. "Now, Virgil , is that polite?" he asked, affecting shock and offense. His eyes flicked to Patton, but he stopped short of making eye contact and directed his gaze downward instead. "Here I am talking with my friend--" a pause-- "and you come in here and insult me."

“Seriously.” Virgil looked at Patton. “What is he doing here?”

“Sitting,” Janus said before Patton could even think. “Is that allowed?”

"Uh, since you're asking my permission, no. It's not allowed. Get lost."

"Yes, that obviously wasn't a rhetorical question. You're so clever."

Panic welled up in Patton’s throat and he couldn’t control it-- they were just bickering now, but it would spiral and someone’s feelings would get hurt. He didn't even realize he was backing away until he hit the wall behind him. Oh, god, he wouldn’t have to choose, would he? He couldn’t. Just the thought made his breath hitch like croaking in his throat and no no no--

"Virgil," Janus said, a touch too loud. "Truce."

Patton looked at him, panic falling away in the face of his confusion.

"What?" Patton watched Virgil's posture open a little, shifting from defensive to something a bit more neutral, versatile. "What are you trying to pull?"

Janus waved a hand, flashing yellow in Patton's peripheral vision. "Patton can fill you in the gory details as he sees fit. Here's what you need to know: I'm in."

"You're in?" Virgil repeated.

"I'm in," Janus said again. "Quid pro quo." He paused in between each syllable, his gaze intense and never wavering from Virgil. "I gave up my name--"

"You what?"

" Please interrupt me; that will make this go so much smoother." Janus paused, but Patton and Virgil remained silent. "I gave up my name, and in return, was given a voice." He turned his face downward and began to fuss with his right glove, and it took Patton a moment to realize that he was taking it off. For what? Another vow? What else could he possibly have to swear to?

"What are you doing?" Virgil asked, drawing back as Janus stepped away from the kitchen island and approached him.

Janus held up his bare right hand like a magician at a street show, then held it out for Virgil to shake. "Truce, Virgil. You don't like me, I don't care about you, blah blah blah. That doesn't have to change. But for Patton’s sake, for everyone’s sake, we can at least be civil."

Patton watched them in wide-eyed silence. For his sake? Janus was doing this for him?

The silence stretched on.

"Look," Janus said, clearly losing patience. "There's nothing I can do to make you trust me--"

"Uh, you could start by losing the attitude," Virgil sneered. Something clicked in Patton's head, but he had no time to pursue it as Virgil turned toward him with a hard look in his eyes. "Patton."

"Yeah, Virgil?"

"What's his name?"

Patton pressed his back harder against the wall, letting it take more and more of his weight. That was all he wanted, someone to hold him up for a while. But he had nothing, nothing but the turmoil before him and the cold, white wall behind his back and friendship bracelets like circles of fire around his wrists. "It's Janus."

Virgil scoffed, and something akin to a smile flashed on his lips for just a moment. And then, to Patton's surprise, Virgil shook Janus' hand.

“Am I interrupting something?” Logan’s voice came from the doorway sounding as cold as the air around them, though Patton was reasonably sure that was poor Roman’s doing.

“‘Morning, Teach,” Virgil said, withdrawing his hand from Janus’ and shoving it in his pocket. “You’re not interrupting anything. What’s up?”

“Why don’t you sit down?” The words left Patton’s mouth in a frantic yelp, all high-pitched and desperate. He didn’t care. He just needed Logan to be okay; it was his job to make sure Logan was okay.

"No, thank you," Logan said firmly. "I only came to invite you to a meeting." He lifted his head and looked at Janus. " All of you."

"What kind of meeting?" Patton asked.

"A meeting regarding Thomas' functioning from this point forward. I believe we have cause to reassess some matters and re-examine some notions that were previously regarded as truths," Logan said "Please meet me back here at precisely 9:30. That is one hour and 23 minutes from now. I am telling you this now so you have adequate time to prepare and do not keep me waiting." Logan turned to leave.

"Wait!" Patton said, throat aching with the urge to cry. "Don't you want-- I can make toast or, or you can put Crofter's on the pancakes. The batter’s almost done."

“No, thank you,” Logan said, just as firmly as he had turned Patton away last night, before he’d gone to see Janus. And he turned and walked away.

“Jeeze,” Virgil said, his face still half-hidden under his hood. “What happened to him?” So Patton told him what had happened the night before.

And when he was done, Virgil had knocked his hood back, angry tears glimmering in his eyes. He rounded on Janus, practically shouting. “That was completely out of line!" Janus was silent. "It wasn't enough to completely shatter Roman's trust in himself, no , you just couldn't handle the insult to your precious pride , could you? God, you're such a jerk. I should drag you down to Roman's room right now and make you apologize, you-- you snake. "

"Virgil!" Patton interrupted, feeling the shards of his broken heart shatter into smaller pieces. "That's not fair."

"Not fair ?" Virgil repeated. He had gone bright red, both his hands clenched into fists. "What's not fair is that Roman's all alone in his room thinking that Thomas doesn't care about him!" He rounded on Janus again, angry tears still sparkling in the corners of his eyes, "It should be you; I wish it was you. You just fucking break things, don't you? You keep trying to tell us you're not the bad guy, so why is it that everything you touch ends up like this, huh? Why can't you just leave us the fuck alone?"

“Enough, Virgil,” Patton said, shooting an apologetic look at Janus. But Janus seemed unperturbed, standing with his arms crossed and a pitying expression on his face, like Virgil had just made a gaffe at a dinner party.

For some reason, that only made Patton feel worse. He was supposed to be their shepherd, the light to unite them and guide them through troubled times, and all he had done recently was cause fights and make people miserable. He would have to try extra hard at Logan’s meeting. They could all be friends again, for Thomas’ sake. They just had to work together.

--

"Aww," said Patton, desperate to break the chilly silence the only way he knew how. "It's nice to all be together, isn't it?"

He scanned everyone's faces for some trace of happiness, grasping for something, anything. Eye contact, half a smile. Just some hope that he hadn't broken things beyond repair.

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him, which was… Well, it was something. It was more than Logan's sickening lack of expression, it was more than Janus' closed-off scowl. Roman made a noise that Patton recognized at once as a choked sob, and continued to stare into middle distance.

Logan had gathered them into a conference room, evidently of his own invention; Patton had certainly never seen it before. Sitting down felt wrong, since they usually had these conversations standing and facing each other, but there wasn't really anywhere to stand. So they all sat in the high-backed leather chairs, spread out around a massive wooden table so varnished and clean that it reflected the fluorescent lights overhead.

Patton, not Logan, sat at the head of it. He hadn't noticed, at first, until they were all seated and everyone had turned to face him. The ensuing case of nerves made his stomach turn. What did it say about him, that he had taken the seat at the head of the table without even thinking? No one else had gone for it… Had Patton trained them all so well, manipulated them into being obedient for him?

Over to Patton's right, Janus planted his elbow right on the lacquered tabletop and rested his chin on his knuckles. "Alright, let's see Paul Allen's card."

From Patton's left, he heard Virgil snicker and clear his throat, but when Patton turned to look, he had gone back to glaring at Janus.

"American Psycho?" Janus continued, evidently unbothered by the lack of response. "No? Tough crowd."

Patton frantically tried to think of an American Psycho quote to answer back with, but he hadn't been paying attention when Thomas had watched the movie. All the blood made him feel queasy, not to mention the drug use and sex.

He was paying for it now, with no way to support Janus. Not that Janus seemed to mind; he was lounging in the stiff leather chair like it was his own personal throne.

"Let's begin," Logan said. He was sitting straight upright in his own chair, all the way down at the other end of the table. He sat across from Roman, the two of them as far from Patton as they could possibly be. "As you all know, Thomas doesn't know what to do in his immediate future. He is currently lying in bed staring at the wall, a behavior which was previously considered unacceptable. The purpose of this meeting is to determine how we should guide Thomas through this… fraught time."

Logan stopped speaking, and what Patton had thought would be a pause stretched out into an awkward silence. "Uh, don't you have any suggestions, Logan?"

"No."

"Well, um. Shouldn't he get up and make breakfast or something?"

"If you feel that is the best course of action, I will write it down." A legal pad and a pen appeared before Logan and he began to write.

"Roman?" Patton said. "Anything? Maybe he could watch Parks and Rec while he eats? Or, uh, something else. Whatever he wants to watch."

"I don't care," Roman said in a hoarse, ragged voice.

"What?" Patton's heart wrenched, and the sensation was painful enough to make him twitch.

"I don't care," Roman repeated. "Whatever you say."

The scratching of Logan's pen seemed to echo in Patton's ears and he swore he could feel a physical weight on his chest. "Wh-whatever I say?" This wasn’t right; they were supposed to contribute… They were supposed to help...

"Oh," Janus' voice cut through the fog. Patton focused on him, the only light in this storm. "You've got to be kidding me." He laughed, all his features lighting up in a parody of mirth. " That was your takeaway from last night? That Patton should be in charge of everything?" He lifted his head and shifted in his seat, bringing up his hands in tandem like an orchestra conductor. "I'd love to know what factored into that decision. Was it the part where he cracked under the pressure you already put on him? Because that makes perfect sense. What do you do when a bridge is collapsing? Put more weight on it, of course! How very logical!"

"And I'm sure you'd prefer it if we all put you in charge?" Virgil snapped. Patton turned his head to look at him, not wanting to be rude, but Virgil didn't seem to notice. He had somehow found space to draw his knees up to his chest and wrap his arms around them. Only his eyes peeked out from behind his legs, and his gaze never wavered from Janus.

" Yes , Virgil, that's my point! Take all that pressure off Patton and put it on me, that's exactly what I want. Congratulations, you uncovered my evil scheme to work myself into a nervous breakdown. I wonder what video game character I'll turn into."

"Like you haven't been aiming for a total takeover this whole time! Patton's probably your next target."

Janus actually laughed at this, which Patton almost couldn't conceive of. How could Janus laugh when Virgil was throwing such terrible accusations at him? They were both being so-- so ugly . The idea that Virgil might be right-- No. Patton couldn't even consider it. He had made the choice to trust Janus and he had to stick with it, right or wrong.

He slammed his palms onto the tabletop, marring its spotless surface with his touch. "Just stop! Stop arguing!" Great, everyone was looking at him now. "I can't be in charge of Thomas all by myself. Please help me."

Roman planted his forearm on the table and buried his face in it. Logan made a note on his legal pad. Patton had never been a violent soul, but for a moment he was nearly overcome by the sudden urge to grab Logan's rollerball and snap it in half.

"Patton," Virgil murmured.

"Just help me," Patton repeated, staring at the smudges his palms had left on the lacquer.

Janus stretched one arm across the table and stole Logan's legal pad and pen. He tore off the first page and began to write, speaking aloud as he did so. "Breakfast. Cereal, something easy. Parks and Rec. He gets three episodes, then he's getting up to brush his teeth, then going for a walk around the neighborhood. With headphones."

"Without," Virgil said. "In case someone tries to sneak up on him and jump him."

Janus paused in his writing and stared at Virgil. Then his gaze flicked to Patton and, to Patton's surprise, he nodded and went back to writing. He was honoring the truce after all. "No headphones." He pursed his lips, as though physically holding back whatever comment he wanted to make. After a moment's pause, he added, "In fact. He's putting his phone on 'do not disturb.'"

"But what if--" Patton blurted before he could stop himself. He covered his mouth with his hand until he noticed Virgil glaring at Janus. He shook his head at Virgil and dropped his hand. "What if someone needs Thomas?"

"And they think he's ignoring them," Virgil added. "And they get mad and stop trusting him."

"Any point on this list is negotiable," Janus said, and Patton had known him long enough to tell that Janus was only setting up the pins for the sake of knocking them down, "but only if your argument is reasonable. Hypotheticals are not reasonable arguments."

"Told you so," Virgil said to Patton. "He wants total control."

Janus slapped the pen down on the table with an unpleasant crack and pushed the legal pad toward Virgil. "Behold! My nefarious agenda."

Before Virgil could move, before Patton himself could be tempted to look, he flipped the legal pad over and slid it back to Janus without reading a single word. "I believe you."

"Patton--" Virgil protested.

"We can work this out like adults," Patton said.

"Well," Logan said frostily, standing up from his chair. "It appears as though you have matters under control without the need for my further involvement." He sank out before Patton could even start thinking of something to say.

Roman lifted his head, revealing tired eyes. At least he hadn't been crying at the table, Patton supposed. "I'm going to go, too," he said, and sank out without another word. The temperature rose noticeably, but remained uncomfortably cold. Poor Roman. It wasn’t often that he got so upset that he lost control of his imagination.

"You next," Virgil said to Janus. "Me 'n' Pat have got this handled. We can do this on our own." He looked expectantly to Patton, gesturing with his head for Patton to dismiss Janus.

Patton sighed. Why was Janus the only one who didn't seem to want something from him? Janus, who Patton even a day prior had suspected of puppeting them toward some bleak apocalypse, was the only one not trying to get him to do anything. Patton almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. Everything was wrong.

"I don't think I can do this," Patton murmured, staring at his palm prints. Even after his colossal screw-up last night, they were all looking to him. He had failed, let them all down. He was the one who had manipulated everyone into seeing him as a good person, a leader, a father . And even after watching him fall, they all still trusted him to make it right.

Everyone except Janus.

Patton never could have guessed that the idea of not being trusted would be so comforting.

"You have to!" Virgil said.

"I know."

"Anytime you want to wrap up this little soap opera," Janus said. He was lounging in his chair looking supremely unbothered, spinning Logan's pen across his gloved fingertips. "We need to decide what Thomas should eat for lunch. He just bought a bag of granola--"

"No!" Patton and Virgil shouted in tandem.

"Don't we have to worry about, like, nutrition or whatever?" Virgil continued, smoothing his hair back.

"Logan would know all about that," Patton said, staring at Logan's empty chair. "I wish…" He let the sentence go unfinished. It didn't matter.

" One day of mindless self indulgence isn't going to kill him," Janus said. "See what I did there?"

"Read the room, dude," Virgil said.

Patton let them bicker for no other reason than that he no longer had the mental energy to tune in. They were only arguing, after all, and he was here if they needed him.

He really hoped they didn't need him. That ugly desire dominated his mind, the sudden, selfish urge to be completely unavailable. It was wrong . It was wrong to be selfish, it was wrong to shut down like this when the others were depending on him.

Suddenly the walls felt like they were closing in. He wished Logan had included some windows or something, some decor. Anything other than this sickening seafoam green paint.

"Thomas can put his phone on 'do not disturb,'" Patton announced. He wasn't sure if Virgil and Janus were even still arguing about that, but they were definitely arguing about something.

"What?" said Virgil. "You're seriously taking his side?"

Janus said nothing, but the splotches of yellow and black in Patton's peripheral vision had gone very, very still.

"Virgil, I need you to understand, I'm not taking anyone's side. It's just that… Well, you heard what happened when I tried to guess the right answers."

"But you're--"

"Fallible," Janus interrupted. "As are we all."

"Except you, right?" Virgil said.

"When have I ever said that?" Janus demanded.

"It's obvious! You don't have to say it. Every time you come waltzing into one of our discussions, you just bring it with you."

Patton sighed and sat back in his chair. He couldn't fix it. Everything he said and did was wrong . Everyone was at odds, and it seemed they all wanted Patton on their side.

He stared at the legal pad and thought,  seemingly out of nowhere, of the Judgement of King Solomon. "We'll do it half and half," he said.

"What?" said Janus.

"Virgil decided that Thomas won't listen to music when he goes for a walk. Janus gets to decide whether Thomas puts his phone on 'do not disturb.' Virgil gets the next decision. And so on."

"Fine," Virgil said. "He's going to have salad for lunch."

"And then he's going to take a long shower and sing as loud as he wants without worrying if anyone can hear him."

"Fine, but then he's going to watch true crime videos and start working on a strategy for what he would do if he ever ends up getting interrogated by the police."

"He's watching cat videos afterward to cheer himself up."

Patton sighed, seeing that they had forgotten about the legal pad, and started writing.

The plan they settled on was a lazy one. If Thomas stuck to it, he would ultimately accomplish nothing with his day. But Logan wasn't there and Roman wasn't there, and Patton barely had the will to advocate for himself . He just wasn't strong enough.

He wondered, briefly, if there was some way he could split himself up, and give a little bit of support to Roman, to Logan, to Virgil. They really seemed to need it, and it had to be hurting them that Patton wasn't there. And the rest of him, whatever was left, could seek comfort in Janus and his total lack of expectations. What else was he supposed to do?

"That's a wrap," Janus said, pulling Patton out of his morbid fantasies.

"Good job, you two," Patton said, and the praise sounded hollow even to his own ears. "Great teamwork."

"Don't get used to it," Virgil said.

Janus stood, sending his chair rolling back until it bounced off the wall. "I'll be going, then. Virgil, it was a pleasure ."

"Wait!" Patton yelped, suddenly panicked. "I wanted-- I…" He faltered and looked at Virgil, who was watching them closely. "I want to talk to you."

"I'm not gonna leave you alone with him," Virgil said, and Patton wasn't sure whether Virgil was addressing him or Janus.

"It's okay, Virgil," Patton said.

Virgil shook his head, and Patton's heart dropped when he noticed that Virgil was shaking a little, his breaths coming shallow (but thankfully, even). "It's not okay. He's dangerous, and I… I couldn't protect Roman. I couldn't protect Logan. I can't let him get you, too."

Patton thanked all the stars in the sky that Janus had the good sense to keep his mouth shut and not wind Virgil up when he was clearly upset. "It's okay, kiddo. That's a lot of pressure to put on yourself. And… I know you don't trust Janus, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

"I-- I guess so." Virgil bit his lip, looking like he wanted to say something else. He dropped his voice to a murmur, so much that Patton had to lean in to be able to hear him. "I just want to help. I spent so long causing problems; I just want--" he sighed "--to be good."

"You are good, kiddo," Patton said, reaching out slowly. Virgil didn't flinch or shake his head, so Patton put his hand on Virgil's knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. "But if you really want to help out, maybe you can go try to cheer up Roman? I haven't had much luck with him, but he might listen to you."

Virgil nodded. "Are you sure you're going to be okay? I'm never gonna forgive myself if Janus hurts you."

"Ah, your ol' pop star will be just fine," Patton said. "Better than fine! I'll be gay-OK."

Virgil didn't smile, exactly, but the corners of his eyes crinkled a little and that was good enough for Patton. "Alright. I trust you." With one final dirty look over Patton's shoulder, he stood and sank out.

Patton turned around slowly, suddenly nervous. Part of him knew it didn't make sense. Logan had created this space; he and Janus were on neutral ground here.

"Parley?" Janus asked from the far end of the table. He had summoned up a chessboard and was evidently playing a game against himself.

"If we're gonna parley, should we do it in a par- lor ?" Patton joked, chuckling weakly.

Janus' smile was crooked and Patton couldn't tell if it was sincere. "You're absolutely right." He vanished the chessboard with a wave of his hand and stood up. "Follow me."

[rjhpandapaws]

Secure the Stage

Chapter 6: College, Coffee, and a Denny's Confessional

Tw: smoking, dysphoria, mentioned transphobia, and withdrawal

Trying to quit always gave him trouble. That was why he never actually managed to get there. Nicotine did all the things he couldn’t do on his own; calmed his thoughts, helped him organize his ideas, and kept the boredom away. There was more to it than that of course, his life wasn’t so dull that he would smoke just to keep occupied. This, like many of his bad habits, started because he had something to prove. Every male actor that he knew of that had made it big on stage smoked. He had thought if he did it too it would help him, there had to be a reason it was so prevalent in the industry. Moreover, if he smoked maybe if he smoked it would seal his image as an actor not an an actress. Of course, that wasn’t how it went. On some level he knew it wouldn’t, and now he was just another Performing Arts major with a nicotine addiction. Another Arkait with a vice and very little virtue to show for it. One of a set. Smoking made that revelation hurt a little less. It didn’t mean what he once wanted it to, but it meant something and he would take that. It was better than nothing.

So he smoked. When Connor asked him to quit because it wasn’t healthy, he tried. Then things got stressful again and he picked it back up. Markus offered to help so Silas tried again. Then picked it back up. He always came back to it. He knew what it could, and at this rate probably would do to his health, but even that lingering threat wasn’t enough to stop him. He worked his way through a pack about every three days. He sometimes made five on a good week. He didn’t smoke around Connor, and if he was at Richard’s apartment he would head to the balcony. Like a true addict it seemed, the one thing he couldn’t do was quit. It didn’t really strike him as something he did a lot until Richard bought him a custom lighter. His darling little brother wasn’t someone who gave gifts often, but when he did he wanted them to mean something, The gifts Richard gave reflected the person he gave them to. That was why Connor always got different kinds of coffee from him, and why getting an ornate custom lighter instead of something theater related had been such a rude awakening.

Even though he couldn’t quit, he didn’t smoke for a few days just to see if he could after he had been given the lighter. Then the ache got too bad and he started up again, like he always did. He hadn’t tried to quit since then, just bent his life into shape around it. There was no smoking around Alice, Connor, or Kara. If he was around Hank, Daniel, or Richard he could smoke, but only if he did it outside. The school and theater had designated smoking areas. At work he could smoke on his lunch or his fifteen if it was that kind of day. When he was alone at home he could smoke whenever and as much as he wanted to. Then along came Allen. Allen who was just a new security guard. Allen who took genuine interest into what was happening at the theater. Allen who always talked to him on his smoke breaks, but never got too close. Allen who didn’t ask him to quit like everyone else; but offered to be there whenever Silas was ready to try again. Allen who looked into the smoke and saw Silas as he was. Allen who he was thinking about way too often. He needed a cigarette.

One, he thought absently as he took his first drag. Never more than three, he’d told Allen in a blatant lie. He had wanted to make it seem like he had a handle on this. They’d been little more than strangers at the time and Silas still didn’t understand why he had said it. He wasn’t one to let himself be known. He changed faces depending on who he was with, but before Allen he had never lied like that. Usually he would deflect or give a non-answer. He didn’t understand why he felt like he needed to hide from it. It wasn’t like Allen knew that he was struggling with it. He was making conversation with something that was immediately observable. Silas smoked, and he almost always was when Allen came to see him. Silas sighed out a cloud of smoke. He didn’t want to think about this, but it seemed like he was just along for the ride at this point. An observer as his thoughts chased answers about a man he shouldn’t be this stuck on. Maybe a hook up would take his mind off this. Daniel was busy tonight so he would have to look for someone else.

He scrolled through his contacts for a while before he decided that a stranger might be better. There would be less explaining and he wouldn’t be judged as harshly for not letting them stay. There was a lot of reject swiping. He was about halfway through his second when he stumbled across Allen’s profile. Not another of many look alikes, but his actual profile. He choked on his breath. Allen hadn’t really seemed the type, but he supposed it showed how little he actually knew about Allen. What would happen if he swiped to match? Would he get a message? Maybe if they fucked Silas could get this out of his system and move on. He hesitated for a long while before he took a screen shot so he could come back to it later. He called Allen mostly on impulse. It probably wasn’t the brightest idea since he had just taken a screen shot of his profile on a hook up app, but he didn’t want to be alone. He’d moved on from overthinking Allen to things that even nicotine couldn’t help with. This was what he got for trying to quit he supposed. The bad things always got dug up when he did. All things considered though, he didn’t actually expect Allen to answer given the hour.

“Hey Silas.” Allen greeted and in the background Silas heard the thump and click of a door closing. He didn’t really think he would get this far and scrambled to get his thoughts into an order that made sense. “Hey, uh. So I know it’s a week night and you’re busy, but I’ve already had two and I’m debating a third.” Silas sighed to himself. he hated asking for help, it made him feel weak, but he needed it, “Could you maybe meet me at the theater?” There was a pause and Silas began to play with his lighter. “I have classes tonight Silas.” Allen replied, “I can’t just leave. Can you come to the university? I could have you as my guest if you would like.” Right, Allen was a student too. He didn’t talk about it much so Silas hadn’t thought about it when he called. “It won’t be bad for you that I’m there right?” He asked, despite the fact he was already looking for a ride, “I just can’t be alone right now.” “I promise Silas.” Came the gentle reply, “I’ll meet you at the student resources building alright? Let me know when you’re headed out.”

“I’m waiting on a cab right now.” Well, he was waiting for someone to accept his request, but it was late on a week night so his hopes weren’t that high. All else failed he could walk, “So it will be about twenty minutes.” Then, as an after thought, “Sorry for interrupting your classes.” Allen didn’t acknowledge the apology, he never usually did when it came to things like this, “I’ll meet you at the quad then. I’ll bring food and coffee and you can tell me what’s up.” Silas made a distant noise of agreement. Now that he had plans he was made aware of the dysphoria he had been trying to ignore. He lit his third cigarette and debated the merits of getting dressed. He decided against it because the sight of his body would sap away what little energy he had left and he would have a meltdown. He finished his cigarette before his phone chimed to tell him that his ride was confirmed. He put his lighter and cigarettes in his hoodie pocket and made his way down to the parking lot. Apparently he looked quite the mess because his driver handed him a pack of tissues and didn’t say a word the entire ride. When he got to the university he tipped extra and took the tissues with him.

Sixer: I’m here and looking for the building. The Okayest Captain: Alright. I’m on my way.

He found the building he was supposed to meet Allen at with relative ease. The hard part was finding a place that wasn’t crowded. He didn’t want to talk to someone he didn’t know. He pulled out another cigarette and thought about lighting it to pass the time, but the whole point of winding up here was to not smoke anymore tonight. He sighed and tucked it behind his ear just in case tonight wound up being a bust. He rolled his lighter from hand to hand until he noticed Allen approaching him. He put it back in his pocket and stood a little taller. Why he was trying to look so composed when he was on a college campus in his pajamas was a matter of pride. He didn’t want Allen to think he was weak. Allen for what it was worth, didn’t seem to care, and held the can of coffee out to him like this was a normal Monday for him. “Distraction or advice?” He asked, “I know it’s not as good as the hot stuff, but it’s the best I can offer for now.” Silas shrugged as he took the can, “Distraction please. I don’t want to think about anything and my usual distractions aren’t holding their appeal.”

Allen gave a slow nod and Silas felt a little like he was being judged, “Would college classes be enough of a distraction or do you need something else?” “I can try classes.” He replied as he opened the coffee, “I haven’t taken any gen ed classes since high school.” Allen turned back toward the entrance. “My next class is calculus, so we should probably head for the math and science building if we don’t want to be late.” He said casually, like numbers weren’t the bane of his existence. Silas groaned, he hated math, “I’m horrible at math so this should definitely do the trick.” That, or drive him to smoke what was left of his Marlboros. He wouldn’t know until he got there. As polite and helpful as Allen’s professor was, by the end of the class Silas could confidently say he was never going to take another calculus class ever again. It had been enough work that he couldn’t really think of anything else. Allen’s next class when a little better since he had some understanding of psychology and was actually able to contribute. By the start of his last class the ache was back and he couldn’t concentrate. Anxiety, dysphoria, and other unpleasant things prickled under his skin and he wanted nothing more than to chase them away with nicotine.

The thing that made all of it so unbearable was Allen’s concern. He was watching him closely and his worry deepened the usual furrow to his brow. Silas knew it came from a good place, but it made him want to scream. Which in turn made him want to smoke even more. They were headed for the truck when it became too much, “I would kill for some really shitty black coffee.” It took Allen a long moment to reply, “We could go to like Denny’s or something I guess.” “That works.” Silas agreed. He held the firm belief that diner coffee was the best during the smallest hours of the morning, “You can just drop me off if you have other plans.” “I was honestly just going to play games until I fell asleep.” Allen remarked as he unlocked his truck, “Don’t worry.” “Thank you.” Silas said once he was situated in the passenger’s seat. He played with his lighter to help deal with his nervous energy. He made sure not to trigger the flame, he just needed to do something while his thoughts ran away with him again. “Would you like to play music?” Allen asked just before the heavy silence became uncomfortable.

Silas thought about it for a while before he replied, “Uh, sure. You don’t mind if it’s slower stuff do you?” He asked and let out a humorless chuckle as he continued, “I’m not in the mood for loud for a change.” Allen shrugged again and handed him the cord. He connected his phone and resumed the playlist he’d been listening to earlier. For the most part it was made up of quieter songs but they had nice lyrics. Tonight though, it wasn’t living up to it’s title. His thoughts were still racing and he still felt like hot garbage. When they got to Denny’s he paused the music. Allen parked close to the doors and they both got out. He stopped by the smoking cubicle. He could have one cigarette before they went inside. He would be less jittery if he did. He reached for the cigarette behind his ear and then stopped. It felt like he was admitting defeat and that wasn’t something he wanted to do just yet. He shook his head and moved to catch up with Allen. Silas went for a corner booth out of habit. He wanted to be away from the doors and the kitchen to minimize any interactions he would have. He kept his lighter out until someone came to the table. Waitstaff tended to judge him when they saw it and that was something he didn’t want to deal with tonight.

He could feel Allen staring at him. Silas understood why he was concerned, but he wasn’t about to hightail it out for a smoke. Though the constant supervision made it tempting. Allen had every right to be worried though, it wasn’t like Silas had explained what was wrong when he called. He hadn’t expected that Allen would actually want to help him either. Silas let out a frustrated sigh, “Just ask. I can feel you staring at me.” “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Allen immediately back pedaled, “But I was wondering why you called me. You sounded like you were really upset earlier, and it looked like you were crying.” Right to the heart of things then. He grabbed for his lighter as he thought it over. If he was delicate with this it would probably be easier on Allen, but if he was blunt with it he could get it over with faster. He tapped his lighter again the table. Might as well be blunt with it, he would be baring his soul either way so it was probably better just to rip the band-aid off. Maybe Connor had a point, and letting someone in for once might help. There was only one way to find out he supposed.

“Have you ever experienced withdrawal Allen?” He finally asked and the shock written on Allen’s face answered him well enough on it’s own, “It’s painful and it messes with everything else. Those bad thoughts are louder, angrier, and that much more persistent. The bad feelings are that much worse and the only thing that can chase them away is nicotine.” Allen flinched and Silas came to the conclusion that he might have been a little too blunt. “No.” He replied gently, “I can’t say I’ve been through that, but it sounds horrible.” Silas laughed dryly, “Horrible is a word for it.” He took a breath and tried to reign in his frustration. Maybe he should have smoked before they came in here. “I felt weak. I know it comes with trying to quit because it happens every time I try to quit. Then the withdrawal comes as I reminder that I am not half the man I am known to be without nicotine running through my veins.” He sighed and flicked his lighter all the way open, this conversation was making him want to smoke even more, “In the eyes of some I’m not even a real man. Just pretending.” He watched a lot of emotions cross over Allen’s face and he seemed to settle of an odd mix of confusion and relief. Silas didn’t understand why, but he supposed it was better than anger.

“Thank you for trusting me with this.” He said eventually, “I know Denny’s isn’t the best place to have this conversation.” “Buy me a coffee and dinner and all will be forgiven.” He joked, “But honestly, thank you for humoring me tonight. It helped a lot.” “I’m glad I could help.” He said with a smile, “Also, knock yourself out. I can give you food in exchange for prying into your head. It seems fair enough.” Silas laughed as their coffees were brought over. He ordered the French toast breakfast and then drank from his mug. Getting that out of his system was fucking exhausting, but if he was honest it almost felt good. “I think not being able to go to my actual classes is part of my issue.” He set the mug down and drummed his fingers against the side, “Having all of this extra time to spend at the theater is nice, don’t get me wrong, but I smoke when I need to think and that might be messing with me.” He sighed quietly and flicked the cap of his lighter open, “I need something to do to keep me occupied. Coffee almost works, but I’ve seen what caffeine dependency has done to my brothers. Whish is better than this probably, but it seems annoying.”

“I mean, it could be a transitional thing I suppose.” Allen suggested with a shrug, “Have a cup of coffee every time you feel like smoking. Would that work?” “I don’t think you realize just how much coffee I would drink in a day.” Silas replied with a laugh, “Though I suppose it would be worth a shot. I could probably afford it with the money I don’t spend on cigarettes.” He rotated his mug to watch the liquid move, “Other than drinking a concerning amount of coffee, this actually might help. Thank you Allen.” Allen gave a mock cheers with his mug, “I’m glad I could help.” “Sorry for going off on you like that.” He said as their food was brought out, “You were only trying to help.” “I pushed you to tell me something you weren’t ready to.” He responded, “Thank you for apologizing though, I appreciate it.” They moved on to lighter topic while they ate. Silas didn’t contribute much since he was still coming down from exposing so much of himself to someone. It dawned on him slowly that he came out during his outburst, and he genuinely hoped Allen had missed it. Most people reacted poorly when they found out. Even if he had heard it, it wasn’t like Silas could take it back.

He didn’t really relax until he was back in the safety of his apartment. Tonight really could have gone worse, all things considered. Allen seemed genuinely interested in seeing him recover. It was a shame really, since Silas’s track record with sticking to good decisions was shit. Case and point being shown when he opened his hook up app again and matched with Allen. What could go wrong? Allen wanted to see the worst of him and this would be the best way to do it. Burn the bridge before Allen could get his hopes up. His phone chimed with a message from Allen, he wanted to know if Silas was doing okay. He put the cigarette from behind his ear to his lips, lit it, and then sent back the coffee emoji. One last moment of honesty before the wall of lies closed in again.

[inawickedlittletown]

Can I Be Close To You

Summary: Buck doesn't have a "covid crush", which doesn't mean he isn't hiding something. A look inside Buck's head during 4.01 and 4.02. 

Words: 3,249

Notes: Cannot escape writing fic, apparently. So here we are. Obviously there be spoilers here for the aired episodes. This fic is pre-relationship/pre-buddie. Title from Bloom by The Paper Kites. Enjoy. 

Read on Ao3

-

The one thing that Buck was grateful for was that Chimney wasn’t teasing him about his “covid crush” outside of the apartment. It was something he only ever brought up when Maddie called or whenever Buck made the mistake of being too loud or using his phone or laptop outside of his bedroom when Chim was around. Chimney of course also noticed whenever Buck got alerts or calls on his phone that had him rushing away. Buck didn’t really care about the teasing. He did care that no one find out why he was being so secretive. It was just easier to be teased about something that wasn’t true, than to be teased for what was true. 

The problem was that they were in the middle of a global crisis. A pandemic the likes of which hadn’t been seen for about a hundred years. It was a lot. In March when everything started to go wrong it had been easy to convince himself and everyone else that it would be over fast. That lockdown would work and in a few weeks or a few months everything would go back to normal. Hen and Bobby had been the firsts to question that logic because they only expected things to get worse. Buck really hated when they were right. Of course, nothing was normal anymore. 

Hen was the one to bring up concerns about them doing their jobs during the pandemic and bringing the virus home to their families. Between all her work to put her in the path of becoming a doctor, and being an amazing paramedic to boot, Hen was the first to start pushing them on the road to taking extra caution. Her concern for her family and for the families of the others was real and unfortunately necessary. 

“I don’t want to stop working. I want to help people and we are more important than ever right now,” Hen had put it into words back then. It was everything they were all feeling. 

Buck had lost count of the number of calls that made them practically just collectors of the dead or dying. Not just that but they all knew first responders that had been personally affected by Covid-19 and it wasn’t just them but their families too. Buck was the only one with no one back at his apartment waiting for him. That’s what gave him the idea. 

“You can come stay with me if that makes you feel better,” he offered. 

Hen hadn’t hesitated for long. She and Karen had had a long conversation about it and before Buck knew it he had Hen and then Chimney living with him. It was nice. It made it easier to bury all the anxiety and worry that had been clawing at him with every article or video or news report that he consumed. His living room had been taken over by an aerobed for Hen while Chim took the sofa. 

Eddie showed up a week after Hen and Chim with a sleeping bag under his arm. 

“I have Carla staying with Christopher. It seemed — it’s for the better, you know? Can I — is there room for one more?” 

In reality, Buck’s apartment wasn’t all that big, but Buck wasn’t going to turn away his best friend. So, Buck just welcomed him in. And for a while, despite everything going on in the world, things were okay. Buck wasn’t freaking out with every new report on the rise in cases and the rise in the dead and how the curve wasn’t flattening and yet the intrusive thoughts nevertheless showed up in his head and late at night when everyone else was sleeping his phone was right there with more information and facts and figures that made it hard to imagine that the world would ever be set to rights. 

Eddie was the first to notice that Buck wasn’t getting a lot of sleep. It became a whole thing with Eddie and Hen and Chim feeling like they were being imposing and Buck not being able to voice that it wasn’t them, but everything else. Somehow, he managed to convince them that they weren’t in his way. 

Buck had tried to reach out to Frank, but he was overwhelmed with clients and all of them of the first responder persuasion. Buck had felt weird asking the department to help him find someone else to talk to and it was only partially to do with the time he slept with his therapist and certainly more to do with how Buck knew other first responders probably needed the help more than he did. In other firehouses, some firefighters and paramedics had succumbed to the virus. Catching it was the newest hazard of the job. Frank did him the favor of sending him a few names. At first, Buck figured it wasn’t that important. So, he put it off. 

He focused on being present. In sitting with Chim while they video called Maddie and in jumping in to say hello to Denny, Nia, and Karen and in reading a bedtime story here or there to Christopher when Eddie wasn’t available and even when he was, the two of them sitting in the kitchen or up in Buck’s room, shoulders pressed together. He tried not to watch the news, and he tried not to keep looking at the numbers. 

Pretending wasn’t easy, but after two nights of Eddie catching him up at 3am eyes glued to his phone, Eddie made a point of taking his phone away at night. And then, instead of sleeping down on the first floor, Eddie moved up to the loft on the small camping mat and sleeping bag. 

He and Eddie talked until they drifted off, and sometimes it felt better to not be able to see Eddie and to stare out in the shadowed ceiling. Talking to Eddie made it easier to let go of the day, to not let his mind wander and come up with more of the world’s problems to worry about. 

So, Buck didn’t think about therapy. Not while he had Eddie near him at night keeping him distracted and willing to stay up until late discussing nothing at all. Buck couldn’t imagine Chim or Hen bothering to do that for him. Rarely, it did happen that Eddie was the one wrung out and needing a conversation. He missed Christopher too much or something they’d seen at work had been just a little too close to home. They were there for each other and all of it just worked. 

Of course, that was when Hen decided that it was time she go back home. She missed her kids too much. She missed her wife too much. Eddie didn’t last more than a few days after Hen’s decision as if Hen making that first move made it okay. Buck didn’t blame him, not with the way that Buck missed Christopher which just meant that it was twice as bad for Eddie. And once they were gone and there was just he and Chimney left, Buck found himself falling into old habits. Chimney wasn’t as much of a distraction especially when he spent so much of his time talking to Maddie or reading parenting books, and because Chimney didn’t turn off the news like Eddie or Hen would. 

Being in his room alone at night without anything to keep his mind occupied and missing Eddie’s voice and the way that Buck could calm himself to the sound of his breathing brought Buck to a breaking point. He needed help. 

Dr. Copeland was the second therapist he had a video call with. She was calm and friendly and she didn’t push him to talk. It felt okay to share his concerns with her in a way that he couldn’t say out loud to everyone in his life. Buck didn’t know if it was somehow easier because she was someone that didn’t know him in real life, or if it had something to do with how Buck could tell that she cared and wanted to help, but he found himself opening up. Dr. Copeland didn’t push, but she did give him insight. She made him aware of the ways that he was being unhealthy about the pandemic. 

Chimney picked up at once that Buck was keeping a secret. It took him a little longer to figure out that Buck was talking to someone through a screen and in the same breath to assume that it was some woman that Buck started dating. It did make Buck wonder if people were actually doing that — the whole dating through skype or zoom or facetime. Buck didn’t try to correct him or to be too bothered by Chim teasing him. He didn’t even worry too much once Maddie found out because Maddie wasn’t there in front of him to get the whole thing out of him. So the “covid crush” gave him an excuse to not tell them the truth. Dr. Copeland kept telling him he should tell them how he felt, but Buck didn’t want that burden on his friends and family when the world itself seemed to want to crush them. And either way, he’d been feeling a lot better about everything. He wore his mask and he followed protocols, and he didn’t allow himself to think in “what ifs”. 

Emergencies were his job. He better than most knew the quick turn that things could take for the worse. But as Dr. Copeland reminded him, fear couldn’t rule his life even if there was a lot to be afraid of. And it wasn’t the virus that Buck feared, it was loss. Losing his friends and losing his family and being incapable of changing anything. He was, thus, hyper alert. About the pandemic, and about anything else that might prompt worry. Dr. Copeland thought that too much information could be harmful to his mental health, but for Buck knowing facts and doing research kept him from spiralling. 

It was Dr. Copeland that made the connection to Buck’s past trauma and realized how likely it was that his worry stemmed from that — from the truck falling on his leg and the tsunami and perhaps even more than that, other parts of his life that he retained and that still bothered him on a deep level. She asked him how much he hid away and didn’t deal with — how much he coped with by researching and by using facts against worry. It made Buck think. 

Then, the micro-quakes happened. And Buck got all the alerts, he read up on the dam and he pictured all that could go wrong. 

Worrying didn’t mean panicking for him. Buck was cool under pressure, he was good at his job. Most of the problems came after when he considered what might have happened and also how many hadn’t made it out alive. Not because of the virus. But because of a disaster. But by the end of the day, Chimney had finally moved out and Buck had a new roommate in Albert, and after everything that happened in the day, Buck figured that he maybe needed to take his own advice and realize that he couldn’t let fear hold him back. 

So when his next therapy session came up, he admitted it to Dr. Copeland. Confirmed what she’d been telling him about himself. He hid his true feelings. He hid away behind platitudes and facts and letting things go because it was easier to move forward than to linger and make things weird with his friends and with his family. Examining that fully meant talking about the past and Dr. Copeland, as gentle as she was in letting him lead the conversation, asked the kind of questions that weren’t easy to answer. 

She pressed him about why he feared sharing his feelings and why he felt he had a need to keep so much to himself and Buck was cognizant enough to realize it was his fear of being alone. 

“I just...I don’t think they get it,” Buck said. “I don’t think they see it. At the beginning of this whole thing — the pandemic — they all had someone. My sister is pregnant and she had just moved in with her boyfriend and his brother. Hen has her wife and kids. Bobby has Athena and their kids. Eddie, he has Christopher. And the reason I even have Albert here right now is that he rather not be around my sister and her boyfriend now they’re finally together again. I’m alone. I’m always alone.”

“But you aren’t,” Dr. Copeland insisted. “You have people. Your team, your sister. Evan, you are not alone. It may feel like you are, but that just isn’t true. I haven’t known you very long, but the way you talk about your team and your sister it is clear you have a support team. That is why I’m encouraging you to speak with them and share your worry and share even this — that you are getting help and looking at things with a new perspective.” 

It was easier to hear it told to him that to do something like admit to Maddie that he was so full of issues that he actually needed therapy. Of course, Maddie herself had gone through a long bout of therapy after Doug and yet compared to that, Buck didn’t feel like he was all that messed up. 

“I get what you’re saying. I do. I just...it doesn’t feel like it. And I don’t want to burden them with more just because I’m feeling left behind or just…”

“And that brings us back to you hiding your true feelings,” Dr. Copeland said. “Is there even one person you feel comfortable talking to about this. Your sister perhaps.”

Buck shook his head at once. “No. No. I couldn’t bother Maddie. She has enough on her plate.” 

But his mind went to Eddie. Eddie had noticed he wasn’t doing well. Eddie had moved to sleep on Buck’s floor and then talked to him until he fell asleep. And since going back home to Christopher it wasn’t like Eddie had forgotten about Buck, because when he had the time sometimes he would call Buck and they would talk over the phone and it had brought him back to those nights. At work neither of them brought that up, they just worked as seamlessly as ever. 

“I don’t want to pressure you, Evan. You’re doing so well and admitting and realizing that you’re holding yourself back is an amazing place to be. I just know that you’ll feel even better once you start sharing your feelings or working through them.” 

Dr. Copeland always gave him plenty to think about. And he considered the notion of coming clean to someone — to Eddie — and maybe getting other things off his chest. His fears about the pandemic, the things about his parents that had made them horrible parents to him and Maddie both, how Buck had so many things about himself that he left unacknowledged, and the loneliness. Eddie wasn’t exactly good with emotions either, but he would at least understand the therapy aspect. Eddie had stopped seeing Frank a while ago, but Buck knew that Frank had done what he could to help Eddie and that Eddie had come out the other side lighter and less jaded. 

“I’ll think about it,” Buck said. 

“Good.”

They talked about other things for the rest of the session and then Buck went back down to join Albert. He’d let Maddie and Chim go, so instead he was busy on his phone. 

“Seriously, dude, how did you meet someone? Now that I’m here, I need to know.” 

Buck rolled his eyes. At times Albert reminded Buck of his younger self, the guy that had been interested in nothing but chasing tail and hoping that that would fill the parts of him that were broken. It hadn’t ever worked, at least not for long. Vividly, he could recall wanting to make connections with those girls and the way that they’d all looked at him like he was asking for far too much. 

“For one thing, I’m not seeing anyone. For another, dating apps are still a thing even if completely inadvisable because we’re in the middle of a pandemic. It might even be good for you to not be hooking up with random girls.”

Albert just pouted at him and groaned. “I just want this to be over.” 

“So does everyone,” Buck pointed out. 

Albert would probably have made a good choice in finding someone to tell about the therapy. He was a good kid and if Buck asked him to, he wouldn’t go blabbing to everyone else. Not to mention that Albert was a bit removed from it all too in his own way. Still, when Buck opened his mouth to say something, the words didn’t want to come out. 

The next time he was at work and Eddie was walking at his side, Buck turned towards him, and Eddie’s gaze met his. They shared a quick smile. It was easy, a habit. 

“How’s Christopher?” Buck asked.

“Misses Carla. Misses everyone, really, but after all that time with Carla he got used to having her around all the time.” 

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you around, man,” Buck said. 

Eddie nudged him. “You know, Buck, I didn’t even think about it that way.”

Buck shrugged at him. Being around Eddie made most of everything else fade away. And when later that day, they were walking from the ladder truck onto a call, Buck just threw a grin his way and Eddie returned it. 

At the end of their shift, Buck walked with Eddie to their cars. 

“Do you remember, before all this, we’d just head over to mine or yours with Christopher. I miss those nights,” Eddie said. 

Buck hadn’t thought about it. He tried not to think about before — about how different life had been back then and how similar because even then he’d done that thing where he pretended that everything was alright. He’d kept it to himself how alone he felt and he’d kept it to himself that sometimes when he and Eddie were sitting in his living room side by side, he wished that it was permanent. It wasn’t about Eddie — or even about Christopher — it was about how Buck longed to have people. Family. 

That had been a thing for a long time. Long before Abby and before he’d moved to California when he’d gone from place to place trying to find himself and trying desperately to belong. The 118 had been one of the first places where he began to feel like he’d found a place, but he’d soon found that it wasn’t enough. It was one thing to love a job and to make it all that he was, but if his time recovering from the ladder truck incident had taught him anything, it was that he needed more outside of the job. It was just that he had no luck finding it. 

“Me too,” Buck said and then before they had reached their cars. “Hey, Eddie, can we talk tonight?” 

Eddie’s face showed some of his surprise. They had never acknowledged it before, not out loud outside of the phone calls or outside of Buck’s bedroom. 

“Sure we can,” Eddie said, crinkles around his eyes forming as he smiled. 

Buck nodded and then he climbed into his Jeep. 

[degrassi-fanatic]

Happy Father’s Day

Yet-to-be-inflated balloons are strewn across the dining room table, only two or three streamers are hung up so far, and a banner that reads Happy Father’s Day is still inside the plastic packaging he bought it in. All the decorations have been readily ignored and abandoned in favor of a lovingly worn and torn photo album with a cracked spine; the result of being open and closed for many years. 

Sitting at the head of the table, Bobby touches the cover of the album, gently tracing the words: The Nash Family. 

Although it might seem a tad bit morbid and sad to be alone on Father’s Day looking at photographs of his late family, it’s become some sort of a tradition of his ever since they’ve died. 

It used to be far worse, though. He would call in sick for work if he was scheduled that day and drink his body weight in alcohol as he flipped through the pages of the photo album with white knuckles, refusing to let himself forget what he lost. 

Now, it's different. He turns the pages in the photo album with only a deep ache to replace what used to be a sharp sting in his chest. Memories used to only equate to suffering for him but now Bobby looks at all the pictures with a renewed sense of love.

Overtime, Bobby has learned that memory can be a beautiful thing sometimes.

Bobby was alone in the house today as earlier in the day, Michael had taken May and Denny back to his own apartment for their own private Father’s Day celebration before the joint party that was supposed to take place here in the evening. Michael had asked if he wanted to join but Bobby had only politely declined, only half-lying about having to decorate. 

In all honesty, even after all of these years, Father’s Day was still a sensitive subject for him. 

Suddenly, at the sound of a doorbell chiming throughout the house, all of his melancholy thoughts are put on pause.

Setting aside the photo album on the dining table, Bobby pushes himself out of the chair and walks over to the door. He pulls open the door to find Buck standing on the other side with his hands stuff awkwardly in his front pockets. 

“Hey Buck.” he greets pleasantly surprised, “What are you doing here?”

“Bobby.” he says as he darts his eyes to the ground, “I was—um, I was wondering if I could spend the day with you.”

“You do realize what day it is, right?” Bobby asks as he wouldn’t put it past Buck to forget.

He watches as Buck avoids meeting his eyes, only scruffing the toe of his shoe against the ground. 

“My—my dad’s in town and I really don’t want to be around him.” he begins to explain and suddenly Buck’s surprise appearance makes much more sense, “Everyone else is busy; my sister’s with Chimney and Joy, Eddie’s with Christopher, Karen and Hen are using today as a second Mother’s Day, and Michael has Denny and May at his until Athena comes back from her shift.

“So I was hoping I could spend the day with you?” Buck asks, scratching the back of his neck. 

“With me?”

The small smile that was tugging on the corner of Buck’s lips disappears with his words, in its wake is a resigned look. Nodding his head, Buck lowers his gaze to Bobby’s shoulder. 

“Y’know what, it’s fine.” Buck says, “I’ll just go to the mall or something. Sorry to bother you.”

He feels something sink deep inside of him as he watches Buck turn away, heading down towards where his Jeep is parked near the sidewalk. 

Desperate to right whatever wrong thing he must’ve said or did just now, Bobby blurts out, “I could use an extra hand with setting up for the party today.”

In the middle of the concrete pathway, Buck stills. As he turns around to face him, Bobby pushes open the door fully and motions with his head for Buck to make his way inside. Practically skipping, he does so immediately. 

Once he’s inside, he gestures for him to make his way down to the kitchen as Bobby closes and locks up the front door. 

“Thanks for letting me do this.” Buck says as he picks up a string of reflective blue streamers. 

“Helping me decorate?” he teases as he begins to tear open the plastic packaging of the banner. 

“You know what I mean.” Buck responds with an eye roll.

As he does, he catches sight of the tattered photo album near the edge of the table. Suppressing the urge to hide it away where no one could find it, Bobby lets Buck pick it up and search through it. He decides to concentrate on rolling out the Party City banner in his hands. 

“What’s this?” Buck asks.

“It’s just a photo album from my first marriage.”

Right away, Buck closes it before setting it back right where he got it from. 

“Sorry,” he says with guilt laced in his voice, “You probably don’t want to talk about that.”

“It’s okay. I’ll always miss them but, it doesn’t hurt to remember them.” he explains.

At Buck’s hesitant, almost wary look, Bobby decides that maybe it’s time this old photo album finally gets some new attention. Picking it up, Bobby searches through the pages until he finally settles on one. 

“Here, this is my son Junior and this is my daughter Brook.”

The picture was the two of them awkwardly linking their arms around each other's shoulders. It was taken at Junior’s middle school graduation ceremony. With a smile, Bobby remembers how much Brook whined when her parents forced her to take a picture with her brother, complaining that Junior didn’t shower enough and smelled like he just came back from hockey practice. 

From his peripheral, he sees Buck shift around until he’s looking at the photograph from over Bobby’s shoulder. 

“What were they like?” Buck asks. 

“Brook loved reading. Her whole bedroom was lined up with bookshelves. Y’know she won this personal essay contest once...” Bobby says, still bragging about his daughter even after how many years have passed since she’s been gone

Old habits are hard to break, huh?

 “Yeah, she won five hundred dollars for it.” he explains, “She was always doing stuff like that.”

“And Junior?”

A chuckle bubbles out of Bobby. 

“Oh God, Junior, he was always getting himself into trouble. But, he was a good kid, he had a good heart.” he remembers.

Kind of like someone else I know.

Pulling his gaze away from where he was looking at Junior’s face, Bobby shifts his attention to Buck. For a second, he takes in just how light his irises are and how blond his hair looks in the light. 

He likes to imagine that this is what Junior would have grown up to look like. 

 “Junior would’ve been a lot like you.” he mumbles, more to himself than Buck.

It takes a few seconds of gears grinding and cogs turning around in his brain before Buck fully processes the depth of his words but when he does, he tilts his head to face Bobby and gives him a shy smile before taking a step backwards. 

“High praise.”

“Yeah well not that high.” Bobby jokes as he closes the photo album, “The kid got himself stuck in a tree that was only four feet above the ground once. And I was the one who was dispatched to get him out of there.”

At the story, Buck starts to double over laughing, clutching at his abdomen as he forces himself to take a breath between every wheeze and snort. Soon, Bobby is following suit; Buck’s laughter is infectious even on a bittersweet day like today. 

For a brief moment as he studies the way Buck throws his head back chuckling, he cannot remember if Buck always sounded like Junior while he was laughing, or if Bobby’s still-grief-ridden mind is having some sort of auditory hallucination. 

“Seriously?” Buck asks as the laughter begins to wane. 

“I never let him live it down.” he answers as he wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. 

Placing the photo album back on the table, Bobby decides that they’ve spent enough time on the subject and judging by the clock, they should really get back to decorating if they don’t want Athena to come back home to a complete mess. 

“He must’ve been a lucky kid.” Buck says, as Bobby searches through the mess to find a roll of tape or some thumbtacks. 

“Hmm?”

“To have you as a dad.” he explains as he hands Bobby a cello tape dispenser, “Junior, I mean.”

If Junior was lucky, he would’ve been alive right now. 

“When I wasn’t drunk and or high out of my mind, I did alright.” Bobby responds with a hint of self deprecation. 

“Yeah, well, I think you’re doing a great job right now.”

Before Bobby can open his mouth and ask Buck what exactly he’s referring to, he’s cut off by the blaring sound of Buck’s cellphone ringing in his pocket. He pulls it out with a huff and practically glares at the screen lighting up in front of his face.

He waits for Buck to pick up the call but all he does is mute his cellphone and shove it back into his back pocket. 

At the way he clenches his jaw, Bobby can deduce who it is with little difficulty. 

“Your dad again?” he asks.

His only response is a short nod as he begins to busy himself with preparing some pieces of tape for holding up the banner; harshly ripping them off from the dispenser before attaching them to the edge of the table. 

Suppressing a sigh, Bobby knows he needs to push Buck into doing the right thing, even if it isn’t what either of them want to do. 

As much as Bobby wants Buck around today, not only to ward off all the bad memories associated with today’s holiday but also simply because he enjoys the man’s company, he knows he shouldn’t monopolize his time. 

Buck deserves a father. Though Bobby may downright despise Phillip Buckley, the man had the honour of holding the aforementioned title and that was something he could not compete with. 

Buck already has a father. He may not be a good one, but he was trying.

Even if he is 29 years too late.

“Maybe you should go meet him?” Bobby suggests, “I mean, if I got a second chance to become a father, you deserve a second chance to have one.”

Buck stops ripping off pieces of tape. His hands travel down to the edge of the table and he grips so hard at the wood that Bobby’s afraid there’ll be claw indents once he’s finished. 

Within a second, however, he pushes himself off of the table and he goes to reach into his pocket. 

Bobby barely has enough to take a look at what Buck’s pulled out before it’s already shoved into his hands. Tilting his head down, he sees a semi-wrinkled piece of printer paper that has been folded in half to make a card. On the front, in big and bold handwriting that he recognizes to be Buck’s, he sees the words Happy Father’s Day and a couple of messy drawings of two firefighters scattered across the page. 

“I already do.” he answers, “Do you—um, do you like it?”

“I love it.” Bobby whispers.

He opens up the card to find a long and what he presumes to be a heartfelt message on the inside. At the top, it says, To the best father and at the bottom, Love, Buck.

“Also, um, some of those random hearts and flames are courtesy of Christopher, who helped me make this, by the way.”

[kinetic-elaboration]

June 17: 1x23 The Omega Glory

Watched the very uneven episode “The Omega Glory” today. Upon some reflection.. I think I have seen it? But I think my last rewatch ended abruptly after “By Any Other Name” so it might have been some time ago.

Anyway, it was... something. Decent, I might even say good, until the last 10-15 minutes and then it just went off a cliff? That’s how I’d summarize it.

Sulu, my beloved. I’ve missed you.

Kirk knows where all the ships are. I mean, obviously, but I love to hear it.

Phasers on heavy stun huh?

It’s so weird to be on a different ship. That looks like the same ship. It’s so empty and haunted looking.

With creepy crystal remains of bodies everywhere.

“These white crystals... are the crew.”

Something was thirsty!! Perhaps... a water vampire? Perhaps... a former McCoy girlfriend?

(Honestly having watched the whole ep...they could have expanded this intro longer. It was creepy and mysterious. Then cut the last act.)

Oh no, they’ve been infected and now must quarantine. Sort of. I guess.

...Oh no, is this Vietnam? Again?

“Our old enemy, Vietnam.”

My mother suggested the disease might be communism and I don’t think that metaphor tracks through the whole episode but you know what.. anything’s possible.

I don’t like this whole “you can’t leave the planet or you’ll get sick and die” thing. Too familiar.

"I may never be able to leave this planet but I have a worse problem: a colleague may be breaking a rule."

Says the man who has frequently violated a directive that has never been referred to as Prime before.

Kirk is getting very mumbly. That’s his serious voice.... bu it’s also his Denny Crane voice lol.

Like bio warfare in the 90s? TOS really thought the 90s was going to be the dark ages, didn’t it?

Only 90s kids remember...

Spock bursting in with a wounded man, just bringing the drama, as he does.

He’s not even listening to McCoy. Rude.

Spock absolutely 100% would have killed Captain Tracey on instinct as soon as Kirk is threatened.

Sulu’s in command? I love Captain Sulu but where is Scotty?

Kirk is so good. Clever, strong, smart. Knows all the regulations.

Tracey’s so dumb. “They’ve eradicated disease and live for hundreds of years!” Man, have you considered that they are...aliens? And their life spans are simply.... naturally longer than human life spans? And even if you could isolate the serum, it might not work on humans?

And his master plan is to isolate their immunity and bottle it for profit. It’s our old enemy... capitalism and the exploitation of intellectual property.

A fight scene!

“The pointy-eared one stays.”

Another fight scene!

Spock is watching all of this, and you know what, I feel like he’s not upset about it. It’s just like Pre-Reform Vulcan. Perhaps some... Amok Time flashbacks? “Damn, I wish that was me.”

Peanut gallery Spock.

“I wish you could teach me that.” / “I have tried.” Omg where is my scene of Spock trying to teach Kirk the nerve pinch?

And then that look Kirk gives him.

I don’t get the point of this scene but it amuses me that as soon as McCoy sees the pretty girl, he feels better.

A post-apocalyptic alien world... a very interesting concept. Like you could do a lot with that idea imo.

“That’s our worship word [freedom too.” Umm.... questionable.

Damn bitch, that was cold. Just knocking him out like that.

Damn yankee.

...Yankee and Communist dammit.

McCoy’s not even surprised to see Kirk and Spock out of jail.

Nature created a natural counterbalance to the biological disease. Where is OUR natural counterbalance, I ask?

McCoy sounds extra Southern rn. It’s all the stress.

I really don’t think Shatner gets enough credit for his subtlety. His face when McCoy explains the whole situation...

Oh he's mad now. "You've hurt Spock for nothing! Oh yeah and also killed thousands but MOSTLY THE SPOCK THING!”

Whereas Tracey really doesn’t seem to care about anything but war for its own sake. He knows now that his master plan for immortality was nothing the whole time...but he still needs to call those Yangs.

In other words, another once-reputable figure of authority now gone mad.

Kirk’s voice is so casual when he’s talking to Uhura and Sulu, you feel like he’s gotta have something up his sleeve. He can never hide when he’s really upset about something.

...Apparently what he had up his sleeve was his crew knowing regulations and then another full body tackle. Fight scene 3!

"My need for attention is vital.” Same, Spock.

This is a very attenuated and unbelievable connection Kirk is making but he’s Kirk so I’ll assume it makes sense that he’s putting it all together so fast.

Alternate Universe: Vietnam canon-divergence lol.

For anyone keeping track, this is right about the point where the episode goes off the rails.

YOU’RE A ROMANTIC, JIM. Well he’s right about that at least and he should say it.

Oh no, an American flag.

Cloud William, chief and the son of chiefs. That’s continuity of government for you.

(Also pretty hilarious that this society is supposedly So American with our exact flag and Constitution and everything... but they’re not a democracy.)

I really don’t want to believe that “under God” is still in the pledge 200 years from now.

"You're confusing the stars with heaven." Kirk thinks he's being called an angel.

The absolute mishmash of meaningless, referent-free words here. America. Native Americans. Communists. The flag, the Constitution. God. Angels. Devils. What???

Like how can they both be flag worshippers AND...believers in God? Who is their God? Alien George Washington?

So rude to call Spock Kirk’s “servant.” That’s his space husband!

Is that a literal picture of Spock as a demon in their.. Bible?

I can’t even follow this anymore.

“You command him.” I mean...yes, that’s how the military works.

“He has no heart.” Wow, rude.

“His heart is different!” I stan one (1) Southern Doctor.

I feel like Spock is just... not having this at all. His face loos like he’s thinking what I’m thinking.

Oh no is that the CONSTITUTION??!

“Kill his servant” wow Tracey is obsessed with Spock, isn’t he? I guess everyone in the Fleet knows about them and their special relationship.

Spock is even amused by the knife at his throat. His eyes say "I am distressed--but fascinated!"

A FOURTH fight scene? And here I thought Kirk was going to recite the Constitution.

“I’m open to suggestions.” He’s just as worried about Kirk as McCoy is, bu the doesn’t show it.

...Yep, he’s being telepathic again. Not really in line with his usual telepathy but okay. Alien magic is flexible.

Okay I have a JD and I can confidently say there is nothing about good defeating evil in the Constitution.

And now this alien guy is immediately ready to make himself a “slave.” That seems problematic. What happened to the holy word “Freedom”?

Wow, Kirk's in a bad mood. "You can't pronounce your own holy words worth shit."

“This is only for the eyes of a Chief,” he says and Kirk just pushes him away.

Spock literally turns Tracey around for Kirk’s big final speech like “Listen up, bitch, my boyfriend’s talking.”

Is this the 4th of July episode?? Feels like there should be canons and fireworks going off behind him rn.

Idk, the words of the Constitution can't be so unique and unprecedented if a WHOLE OTHER ALIEN CIVILIZATION just came up with them, too, on their own, like monkeys typing Hamlet. (Given the timelines here... they probably did it first too lol.)

"Liberty and freedom need to be more than just words." Like what does that even mean in this context? Sounds nice but it’s very hard to put into the context of all the rest of this.

“And uh be nice to the Kohms,” after most of them (?) were probably just killed.

I really was into this until the last 10-15 minutes and I think there were under-explored concepts that could have taken the fever dream of whatever that bizarre-o fever dream at the end was. The abandoned ship. The leftovers of bio warfare. The whole weird and under-explained concept of immunity. The tragedy that so much was destroyed,, including but not limited to the whole Exeter crew, for no reason. What happened to Tracey to so destroy him--was it just greed? What about the “Prime” Directive? Is it important or not. They just leave at the end after (as Spock pointed out) doing quite a bit of their own meddling, even though meddling is allegedly the worst. Also, we know almost nothing about the Kohms at all. The “American” society clearly wasn’t democratic. Were the Kohms literally Communist?

I’m willing to accept a certain degree of alternate Earth scenarios--like Miri (though imo that was not a necessary component of that story) or Bread and Circuses, but this was too much. TOO unbelievable. And frankly unnecessary. You could do an allegory for alternate-Vietnam, and it would be just as clear but even more effective. There wouldn’t be any distraction in the form of “what the fuck is that flag doing here?”

There is a potentially incendiary concept here, which is the same one I thought of reading about actual COG plans--certain aspects of the Yanks’ culture survives, but with absolutely no meaning attached. They have a Constitution but they mispronounce all the words. They have this tattered flag but it has no other meaning. They’ve turned the symbols of the government into a religion, but they don’t practice any of the civil aspects of it--they have chiefs, not democratically appointed leaders, for example. Like, COG asks “what IS the country, and how do you make sure the country endures no matter what?” This was an opportunity to show the worst of that: the country continues to exist as symbology only--incredibly strong symbology, but only that--and all of the actual values that were supposed to be stored with that symbology have disappeared. Similarly, their hatred of their enemies endures. It’s lauded in the ep as their attempt to get “their land” back but what if it’s just war for its own sake, as Tracey seems to be engaging in? To tell that story, especially in the 60s, against the backdrop of Vietnam, and with the references to bio warfare and nuclear warfare, could be powerful. And I know TOS can work in metaphor and comparison. It doesn’t need to bring out a literal fucking flag.

Honestly, it was like they had one good, classic, sci fi story but it didn't fill 52 minutes so they tacked on the American Pride 4th of July Propaganda Extravaganza at the end.

It really felt like the lesson was “America good” lol.

I liked the concept of the post apocalyptic society in the aftermath of bio warfare as a cautionary tale for 1960s America, and I'd be up for crazed snake oil salesman Starfleet Captain (or...whatever his rank was) if it were a bit better explained. But the rest of it....

It also... could have been kinda incendiary with the idea that the Constitution and flag are religious symbols... I mean some people do treat them that way and I've always found that, first, blasphemous, and second, bizarre in such a hyper-Christian country. But I feel like instead of digging ito that, they just tempered it with "But also they're Christian, as you can tell by their drawing of devil!Spock, for some reason."

Idk, this story could have been complete with out the whole weird “Vietnam AU” back story or alternately it could have been a biting commentary about what defines America, and about whether or not our symbols might be more enduring--or even more important to people today??--than the laudable but more complex and difficult ideals that underpin the country’s founding. Are the words of the Constitution just gobbledy gook? They are if you don’t live by them, and America has always struggled to do that. It definitely would struggle even more in the aftermath of an apocalypse.

...I’m more annoyed now, thinking about the possible sci fi story that could have been...

Anyway next is an ep I’m fairly sure I haven’t  seen, so that should be fun.

[halothenthehorns]

THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

James took the book with a happy enough smile. He wanted to believe they were all being paranoid, that this was the year nothing bad was going to happen to his son and they'd get to have a rousing time laughing about whatever was to come, rather then going for more calming draughts.

Hogwarts loomed above them as magnificent as ever, not that they had time to appreciate much of anything as they went sprinting inside out of the rain. Ron was only just shaking some water out of his face as he said how the lake was likely to overflow, before roaring in shock.

Lily startled as James screamed like that, then scowled as all four boys started laughing at her expense. "I'm so glad you find people screaming funny," she told them pleasantly. "I'll make sure to remember that later, dear," she finished with flashing eyes at her husband.

He gulped, tried and failed for a smile, then went back to the book.

    A water balloon had crashed onto his head, somehow managing to make him even more wet.

Sirius still couldn't wipe the smirk off his face as he stated, "well that's just lovely. A very welcome back to school present."

"I'm sure it gives students a chance to miss the rain outside," Remus agreed.

More were coming down as well, one landing at Harry's feet and drowning his socks in the icy liquid, another being lobbed at a group of girls who quickly dived into the Great Hall for cover. Above, Peeves was cackling in triumph

"Good to see the weather doesn't affect his mood," James snickered.

as he took aim for another. McGonagall came storming onto the scene, shouting his name, but hardly made it a few steps without sliding in the deluge and having to catch herself on Hermione's neck before they both crashed.

"Ouch," Lily winced in sympathy.

"For McGonagall and Hermione," Harry agreed with a sad frown for both women.

Hermione grimaced in pain and McGonagall apologized, Hermione quickly waved her off while massaging at her throat.

"Great, now we know who we can use to catch our falls from now on," Sirius snorted.

McGonagall turned her attention back on Peeves and demanded he stop, who paid her no mind as he tossed another set and exclaimed he wasn't doing anything!

"While technically he is doing something," Remus' smirk kept widening.

After all, they were already wet!

"He's not wrong," Sirius finished for him, causing all four boys to crack up laughing again. Lily sighed, wishing she could teleport someone sensible into the house at least.

McGonagall threatened she'd go and get the headmaster, and Peeves retaliated by dumping the rest of his load on them before zooming away. McGonagall sighed at all the dripping students, but instructed them all to get into the Hall.

"She couldn't have at least offered to dry them off?" James asked, a wicked grin still in place at his poor sons expense.

"Guess she was still too distracted glaring after Peeves to think about it," Harry chuckled, knowing he'd been no worse for wear of the extra cold.

The group went into the much warmer Great Hall where the set up was the same as last year with all the floating candles and golden plates on top of each of the four houses. Harry and his two friends took seats by Nearly Headless Nick, who wore his usual attire.

"Of course it's his usual," Sirius snorted, "he can't hardly change clothes."

He beamed at all of them and stated 'good evening', though Harry replied according to who, while draining the water from his shoes.

"Ah cheer up Harry," James said bracingly, "a little water never hurt anyone."

"Even when it's chucked at you from a balloon?" Harry asked simply, not bothering to keep the smirk off his face.

"Especially then," Remus pointed out, finally getting Lily to laugh at that one.

Then he muttered he hoped the sorting was fast, he was starving, while his internal dialogue noted this would be the first he'd be attending since his own.

"Thank you for that lovely reminder," Lily snorted.

Slightly down the row, a boy called down a greeting to Harry, Colin Creevey.

"Blimey, nearly forgot about this one," Sirius raised a brow in surprise.

"Be thankful it's only a hello," Harry sighed. "He didn't lose a drop of his enthusiasm for me, but at least he didn't memorize my schedule again."

"Well darn," Sirius snapped his fingers, his face giving a slight twitch as his tongue seemed to register he'd said the wrong thing, but quickly pushing past that. "I kind of liked your stalker. Did he and Ginny ever start up that fan club?"

Harry twitched like he wanted to mimic what he'd seen the others do and chuck a pillow at his godfather, but repressed the urge in the end, while James ignored the two and kept going.

He was a year below Harry and had always been deep in awe with him. Harry gave an exasperated hello back, and Colin quickly kept the conversation going by telling Harry that his little brother Dennis would be starting this year!

"Oh joy, we don't need Ginny anymore," Remus jumped in on this. "We've got our own club right there!"

"So glad you two are enjoying this," Harry sighed, which didn't help the fact that he was trying to ignore them both.

Harry faked some enthusiasm for this, while Colin eagerly hoped that his brother was in Gryffindor with them! Then Harry turned back to his friends and asked curiously if it was normal for siblings to get put into the same house, his mind on the Weasley's, all of whom were Gryffindors.

"Not necessarily," Sirius said at once with a happy smile. "I'm a Gryffindor, but my brother was a Slytherin."

"None of us have siblings, so we can't mark it," Remus shrugged, "but no, it's not standard," he finished agreeably.

Hermione said no, pointing out that a set of twins, one of whom had gone to Ravenclaw, the other in Gryffindor.

"Identical twins doesn't mean identical personalities," Lily shrugged. "I can just as easily picture Fred or George having wound up in Slytherin."

"You take that back!" Sirius said instantly, looking as affronted as if she'd cursed at him. "Those two are proud Gryffindors after me own heart."

"Oh hush Sirius," she waved him off, still addressing Harry, "they're both ambitious and clearly very cunning, it's not too hard to picture."

Harry nodded but decided against arguing the point, as he couldn't picture any of the Weasleys in such a house.

Harry was now looking up at the staff table where there were some empty chairs, Hagrid's as he was still out with the first years, McGonagall's who must have gone back out to dry up the Entrance Hall, but one extra seat Harry couldn't place.

"New teacher," the other four said as one.

"Can we please get someone normal this year," James sighed.

"Should I resent that?" Remus asked with a wane smile.

"You are far from normal Moony, but that's not what he meant and you know it," Sirius grumbled. They all wanted just one bloody year of peace, and so far every one of Harry's DADA teachers had somehow had a hand in spoiling it. Admittedly Remus was still the best by far, so hearing the position was open again stung more than they would have expected it to as they knew who they wanted there.

Hermione noticed as well, asking where the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher could be? Harry's internal dialogue kicked in as he remembered they'd yet to have one two years in a row, his personal favorite being Professor Lupin,

Remus couldn't help beaming, still somehow doubting that he'd done any real good in the position, but when no one else looked remotely surprised but instead just happy to hear it, Remus decided against bringing up the argument it was best he had left, he'd only cause more trouble.

who'd left last year. One quick look at all the staff again confirmed there were no new faces though to mark who it could be this year. Hermione was getting worried as she asked what if they hadn't gotten anyone this year?

Lily let out a surprised snort of laughter, saying, "that would honestly be kind of interesting. Wonder what they'd do?"

"With any luck, call it a permanent free study period," Sirius sighed wistfully.

"I imagine Dumbledore did appoint someone," Remus shrugged, "there must be someone out there who's still willing to try."

"I know someone who quit too soon," James grumbled under his breath, still giving his friend the stank eye before continuing.

Harry was still watching all of the other teachers, his least favorite sticking out being Snape.

"The feeling is mutual," Sirius hissed, to no one's protest. They all wished they were more surprised that he was even still there. It didn't seem fair, that he could do that to Remus and he hadn't suffered his own job as payment.

The feeling was mutual, and had somehow grown since last year when Harry helped Sirius to escape under his overly large nose.

James only got a moment to laugh before saying on reflex, "Harry thought that, I swear!"

Lily wasn't paying him any attention, her eyes were vacant and still managed to look more angry than sad at everything Severus had done last year, so James quickly hurried on and managed to ignore Harry grumbling, "thanks for the bus dad."

As Sirius and Snape had been old school enemies, the animosity could only have grown.

The ceiling above still showed the storm outside, while on his other side Ron groaned he was so hungry he could eat a hippogriff.

"Buckbeak resents that," Sirius smirked.

"You're speaking for a hippogriff that hasn't even been born yet," Remus laughed.

"I'm sure many hippogriffs resent that," Sirius' smirk widened, "he's just the first by name I thought of. I'm sure-"

"Oh bloody hell you two," Lily cut them off with a pointed look. "It's just an expression as you well know, let James finish this before midnight will you."

"She's in a bad mood," Sirius mumbled into Harry's ear, low enough that he was sure she hadn't heard.

Not moments later, the doors opened and the new set of first years came filing in, who were so wet they looked more like they swam here, and were all shaking from either cold or nerves.

"Those poor dears," Lily crooned, switching back to motherly anxious at once. "I wish someone had at least taken to drying them."

One in particular stood out to Harry, a tiny little mousey haired boy who was wearing Hagrid's coat, which was ten times as large as him. Despite his half terrified expression, he caught Colin's eye and gave him a thumbs-up, mouthing that he'd fallen in the lake.

Causing a burst of laughter in the room. They really hoped he got sorted into Gryffindor now just to hear that!

He looked positively delighted about it.

"I love this kid," Sirius said at once.

"Considering at least once a week you begged us to go take a swim in that lake with you, I'm not surprised," James chuckled.

McGonagall escorted them to the staff table and then set out the stool with the Sorting Hat on top of that. The Hall went silent, and they all waited as the song began:

James looked deliriously happy, not quite being able to believe his luck! He'd been dying to sing along with the hat!

A thousand years or more ago, when I was newly sewn, there lived four wizards of renown, whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor, Fair Ravenclaw, from glen, Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad, Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream, they hatched a daring plan, to educate young sorcerers thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders formed their own house, for each did value different virtues in the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were prized far beyond the rest; For Ravenclaw, the cleverest would always be the best; For Hufflepuff, hard workers were most worthy of admission; And power-hungry Slytherin Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide their favorites from the throng, yet how to pick the worthy ones when they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way, he whipped me off his head. The founders put some brains in me so I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears, I've never yet been wrong, I'll have a look inside your mind and tell where you belong!

James finished with gusto, then looked around expectantly like he was awaiting his applause. What he instead received was laughter from three of them for what they considered far too much enthusiasm, and one actual person clapping which was Sirius with a straight face.

"Lovely performance," his best friend nodded with a critical smirk. "Could have used a bit more volume, but you are out of practice so I'll let it slide."

"Thank you," James nodded seriously, only giving the others another reason to laugh. He ignored them and turned proudly back to this book without a trace of remorse.

Every person present applauded the performance, as Harry leaned over and mentioned that hadn't been the song the Hat had sang to them.

"Sad that it took you till your fourth year to know that," Sirius sighed.

Ron told that it sang a new one every year, then guessed that it must need something to do with all its free time.

Lily snickered in appreciation and agreement.

Professor McGonagall was now undoing a large sheaf of parchment, and began calling out the new students by their last name in alphabetical order, who would come up and put on the Hat, then go to their new table.

"It's a good thing they applaud," Remus snorted, "because it's not as if they have them labeled."

She began with Ackerley Stewart, who joined Ravenclaw. Harry spotted Cho clapping along with the rest of her house,

"Now why would you notice a thing like that?" James asked with too wide eyes.

"Can't be because of her Quidditch ability, Harry did beat her last game," Sirius nodded along with an undeserved smile in Harry's opinion.

He tried desperately to ignore them both, but his growing redder by the second face wasn't leaving much room for that farce.

Lily wanted just as much to hear more about Harry's first crush, but she pitied her son too much in that moment and instead said, "get on with it James, no need to pick on him when it took you three years to even admit you had a crush on me."

James flushed and quickly turned away.

and for a moment Harry had the want of getting up to join that house as well.

"A moment I'd have liked to see him act on," Remus murmured, causing Lily to at least giggle at that. James and Sirius pouted at them, as they'd just been told off for this, but James decided against arguing the point.

Then Baddock, Malcolm joined the Slytherin's, and Harry watched that boy join his new house, wondering if he knew that Slytherin was known for turning out the most Dark wizards.

Lily sighed, her earlier amusement soured. She wished Harry would stop thinking of that particular stereotype.

After a few more students were called, it was Creevey, Dennis' turn, and after stumbling over Hagrid's too large jacket he made his way to the Hat and was quickly announced as a Gryffindor.

"Yes," Sirius cheered, "I wanted to hear about his experience in the lake!"

"Not so good for Harry," Remus chuckled, "as we might have another Collin this year."

Harry sighed without comment, dearly hoping against that.

Dennis quickly replaced the hat and ran over to his brother.

"Did he keep the jacket?" James asked.

"No, he gave it back to Hagrid," Harry chuckled.

Squealing about how he'd fallen in the lake, but something had grabbed him and put him back in the boat.

"The giant squid I presume," Lily smiled.

"I love this kid," Sirius cackled, anyone who had this brilliant reaction was okay with him.

Colin was just as excited as his brother as he exclaimed how cool that was!

"The concern for his brother is touching," James snickered.

Explaining for him it was probably the giant squid who had done him the favor. Dennis' expression somehow grew more delighted, as if no one could ask for more from life.

"Well when you put it like that it sounds like a bad thing," Lily giggled.

Then Colin drew attention to Harry sitting not too far away,

"As if you don't have a million pictures of him hanging up in your room," Sirius said with a pointed look at Harry.

Harry was still trying his very best to ignore all of this teasing, hoping they could change topics soon!

Harry quickly turned his attention back to the sorting, where they'd only made it to the L's and Ron was complaining about his stomach. Nick reprimanded him, saying the sorting was more important than food, and Ron snapped back it sure was if you were dead.

"Should have eaten more on the train instead of ruining your snacks," Sirius shrugged.

Nick ignored the snap, saying he hoped this new crop of Gryffindors helped to keep up their running streak, their house had won the past three years now.

"All three thanks to my boy," James added on with undisguised pride.

Harry flushed again, though this time for a different embarrassment. Only his last year would he actually claim some credibility for, and his whole team deserved the praise. His first two years had really been more of a fluke in his opinion, he hadn't asked or earned those points just for doing the right thing.

Finally the sorting was completed, and Dumbledore stood up to welcome them all, before offering the simple advice to 'tuck in.' Food magically appeared onto the plates, and they all dug in as Nick watched.

"Why does he attend the start of term feasts if he's just going to watch us like that?" Sirius asked with a roll of his eyes.

"I thought they greeted the first years in the antechamber," Harry asked in surprise as he first realized this. "Nick and the others were with us the whole time this year."

"Your first year seemed to have been some kind of occurrence," Lily shrugged, "where they were having a meeting about Peeves and were running late. They usually wait in the Great Hall with everyone else."

Ron sighed with his mouth still full of food how much better he already felt. Nick was watching him with mild disgust as he told that they were lucky to have a feast this year, as there had been a problem in the kitchen earlier. Harry tried to ask what had happened around a mouth full of steak.

Lily had to fight back the impulse to scold him for talking with his mouth full, she found no sense in doing it for how many years ago.

Nick said it was Peeves obviously,

"Of course," Sirius began laughing at once. He always enjoyed hearing what that Poltergeist got up to.

he'd had his usual argument of wanting to attend the feast, but of course everyone said no. The Poltergeist couldn't look at a plate of food without throwing it.

"I'm glad Nick mentioned that instance in particular," Remus gave a fond smile. "I was worried someone would forget about it."

"Let me guess," Harry began with a happy smile.

"Right in one," Sirius nodded without remorse. "We caused a distraction and let him into the Great Hall, where he started the most epic food fight in Hogwarts history between all of the houses."

"I had to attend potions with mash still in my hair," Lily sniffed, but her shoulders were shaking with repressed laughter as she finished, "but it was worth it when I nailed you with that whole bowl of pudding." She finished with a loving smile at her then boyfriend.

"I knew you did that on purpose," James said, swinging his finger wildly in her face.

Lily had an unrepentant smirk on her face, and still grumbling a bit with a fond smile of his own, James turned back to the book for now.

Ron agreed Peeves had seemed in a particularly bad mood today, asking what he'd done to the kitchens in particular?

"Cause mayhem," Remus said at once with a casual shrug.

"That is a good idea though," Sirius nodded along. "How come we never thought of getting him into the kitchens."

"Because you valued your meals more than your life," Lily snorted. "You never would have jeopardized such a thing after McGonagall threatened to ban you from the Great Hall after you let Peeves in there."

Sirius nodded in agreement with that.

Nick shrugged as he said the usual, making everything fly around and breaking whatever he could, giving the house-elves quite a fright- clang!

"Timing," James said with mild disappointment, he'd wanted Nick to keep going.

Hermione had knocked over her drink, staining the tablecloth below orange for several feet, but clearly paying that no mind.

"What's with her?" Remus asked in surprise.

"Oh that's right, she wouldn't know anymore then Harry that there were house-elves at Hogwarts," Sirius shrugged.

"And judging by the way she was acting about it over the summer, this might not go down well," Lily sighed solemnly. She now felt bad for her earlier outburst at Sirius, and she'd already seen evidence that Ron and Hermione might rehash the argument they'd just had.

She demanded that there were house-elves in this castle?

"Where did she think all that food came from?" James snorted in surprise. "She knows the only staff there are the teachers."

"Guess it just never occurred to her to question it," Lily shrugged, she'd been the same way for the longest time.

Nick agreed of course there were, one of the largest dwellings of them in Britain. Hermione gasped that she'd never seen one, and Nick laughed of course not, it was a good mark to never see them. Hermione was still half gaping in shock as she demanded that they got paid, and were treated as proper employees, yes? Nick laughed so hard his head fell off as much as it could.

"I just love that you and your friends don't even try what we strived for," Sirius sighed. "It took me ages to get him to laugh so hard his head fell off."

He fixed it before telling her that elf's didn't want such things. Hermione set down her silverware and pushed her plate away. Ron began laughing at her, but she shot back that slave labor had made this meal, and refused to take anything more.

All five of them looked worriedly surprised at that, was she going to refuse to eat her whole stay there? Only Lily felt sympathy for the girl rather than wanting to laugh at the display like clearly the Marauders wanted to, at least she understood why Hermione was behaving like this.

Ron kept trying, offering up her favorite foods, but then Hermione gave him such a severe look McGonagall would have been proud, and he let it go.

"You know she's really making a point when she ignores the desserts," Remus said solemnly.

Once the feast was over for everyone else, Dumbledore took to his feet again. First he praised the good food, to which Hermione huffed at,

"Is she going to be like that every meal now?" James sighed.

"It'll be a miracle if she even attends another meal," Sirius shrugged.

but no one noticed as Dumbledore began speaking of other things, such as the list of forbidden items at this school which had been updated to including Screaming Yo-yos,

"Killjoy," Remus pouted.

Fanged Frisbees,

"Can't believe it took him that long to add those," Sirius snickered.

and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs.

"My personal favorite," James cackled.

The full list of four hundred and thirty-seven items

"And he's memorized every one of them," Lily said with chipper.

could be found on Filch's door.

"There'll be a line out the door for that," Harry muttered under his breath, which James and Sirius still heard, and exchanged indulgent smiles, more than happy Harry was playing along.

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched.

"Cannot imagine why," Remus said with an almost straight face.

He still continued with the warnings, stating that the Forbidden forest was also out-of-bounds,

"At least I didn't have to deal with that last year," Harry sighed, that was one thing he could be grateful for at least.

as well as the Hogsmeade village to all below third year. He added on something extra this year, which was that there would be no Quidditch tournament.

James had been happily reading for so long, that this bombshell didn't quite register until he heard Sirius gasp so wildly you'd think he'd been stabbed in the chest.

"You must be bleeding joking!" Remus demanded, watching James like he wasn't sure who he was staring at anymore. "Tell me that was a terrible joke."

"I'd never joke about something like this!" James yelped, staring down at the print like it had just whacked him over the head with his own broom.

"I, I don't understand," Sirius' lower lip was starting to wobble, like he was going to start crying any second. "He can't, Dumbledore can't-"

"Oh come on you lot," Lily sighed, finally cutting in, "read on now, and let the man give an explanation as to why, you know he will."

Harry gasped in outrage,

"A completely appropriate reaction," Remus nodded, ignoring Lily rolling her eyes at him, though Harry still looked as stunned at the news as the rest of the boys.

and glanced around to see Fred and George mouthing wordlessly at the headmaster, to appalled to yell out yet.

"They weren't the only ones," Harry sighed, somehow getting the feeling he would have preferred Quidditch to whatever was going on this year.

"It's a good thing Wood hadn't come back this year, or he would have had heart failure," Lily couldn't help but point out with a light giggle.

Dumbledore had to speak over a growing protest to state that instead, starting in October,

"Unless you plan on cancelling all classes this year and giving everyone a free year, I cannot see in what way taking out Quidditch is alright," Sirius huffed.

but was cut off by the doors opening.

"Oh bloody hell!" James groused.

"The timing of whoever interrupted this should get an award," Lily snorted.

"So the reason they canceled Quidditch has something to do with this big secret," Remus' eyes glowed with curiosity now.

"Must be really big," Sirius ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

The man who came in was one that made the whole hall fall silent. His features were striking, and not in a pleasant way. As he walked towards the staff table, you could distinctly hear a clunk every other step. Then a strike of lightning threw his face into sharp relief, and Hermione gasped.

Harry let out a strangled noise as well, his eyes going wide as he got his first remembered look.

"Who on earth-" Lily began with confusion, but James shrugged, clearly indicating none of them had any idea so kept going.

Harry couldn't blame her, as this stranger's face was like nothing he'd seen before. Every inch of the lined face seemed to bear a scar, half of his nose was missing, and his mouth looked more like a wound as well, then there was the eye.

James couldn't help a little shiver for this man, wondering what on earth he'd been through to get like this.

One was normal sized, but the other was wide as a pound, the iris of which was bright blue. It seemed to have a life of its own as it roved over every inch of the place, never settling, and at one point rolling right into the back of the man's head. It never blinked.

Sirius' mouth was stretching wide, the idea of that thing a combination of creepy and kind of cool leaving him unsure how he was supposed to be reacting.

He reached Dumbledore, who shook his hand and offered him the seat beside him.

"No way," Remus demanded, his eyes narrowed shrewdly at the book. "That's your new DADA teacher?"

"Unless he's there for some other reason, which I can't think of," Lily agreed.

"Why can't you just have one normal teacher?" James sighed.

"Hey," Remus yelped, giving a halfhearted glare at him. "You saying I'm not normal?"

"Moony, I know you're not," Sirius snorted, waving James on amidst the others giggling.

As the man took his seat, his coat rose up enough you could make out his legs, one of which was simply a peg.

Dumbledore gave him the introduction of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody.

"What!?"

Harry just nodded absently though, like the news didn't surprise him. What he was thinking on though was this odd little feeling, like he shouldn't trust this man one little bit. It was so at odds with his first impression of him though, a trustworthy man, why would he have such conflicting feelings about this?

"That's, that's not-" Sirius shook his head wildly as he tried to line up the Auror in his prime now with this misshapen thing.

"No way that's Alastor Moody," James was going nearly green in shock as he reread that almost terrifying description. "Sure he's been pretty badly marked, but the eye, leg and nose? Who on Earth managed to get him?!" His head was reeling as he tried to wrap his mind around that. Moody was like his idol, he couldn't imagine a more fearsome and undefeated Auror, and to hear something like this had happened to him was crushing!

Lily felt terrible for him of course, but suddenly she was looking at her husband with a whole new fear as well. She had never argued with him when he said he wanted to be an Auror, in the type of life they lead fighting a war it almost made sense this was where he'd been leading, but for the first time she truly reflected what it would feel like if her husband didn't come home one day because he hadn't lived through one of those injuries. She was already facing a terrifying future where her and James were set to die, but what if they somehow managed to fix it, and James only got a few more years left of life but still died because of this? Her heart felt like it was shriveling up in her as she so desperately wanted to throw this at James, for the first time try and convince him of something else, but wondering if she even should. Was it right to try and force him to change careers just because she was getting a little spooked?

Still stuttering slightly from 'this future sucks' overload, James had to blink hard a few times before forcing himself to go on. He hated sitting here thinking about this happening, but glancing over at Harry was a good reminder it wasn't the most important thing in his life right now.

He and the rest of the staff began applauding the new appointment, but no one else moved.

"I'd be too shocked to as well," Lily murmured, still shifting her weight around with unease.

The noise died quickly, and Harry hissed into Ron's ear if this was the same Mad-Eye Moody?

"Guess now we get the name," Remus grumbled to himself, his brow still furrowed up in worry for this future. It was honestly beginning to feel like no one in their future from the Order lived a decent life, which wasn't exactly encouraging.

The same Arthur had gone out to help this morning?

"Just, Alastor Moody, as a teacher," Sirius' eyes still hadn't gone back down to their normal size. "I can't decide what's blowing me more, the thought of him doing that, or him with half his nose missing! Or that eye, or-"

James reached around Harry and gave his best friend a pat on the shoulder in commiseration, he was still fairly in shock himself.

Ron agreed it had to be the same guy, and Hermione asked what had happened to him. Ron said he wasn't sure,

"Wish Ron did know when that happened to him," Sirius shivered, wondering if there was an ambush somewhere in their future, or if this happened after Voldemort's downfall?

Moody didn't seem to notice the attention on him, now eating some sausages and drinking from a hip flask from his coat. When he lifted his arm to drink, Harry got a better view of the wood, which was carved to be shaped like a foot.

The four of them couldn't help another shiver. It's not as if they'd never met someone with a prosthetic, but the idea of it happening to the head of the Auror department like that still wouldn't sit right in their mind, not the man who seemed thicker than stone.

Dumbledore had to clear his throat to reclaim attention, and then continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, going back to say that this year Hogwarts would be hosting the Triwizard Tournament.

James had still been reading on autopilot from the shock of Moody's appearance in this timeline, that he'd almost read right past this without realizing it. Then his brain caught up with his tongue, and he nearly bit the muscle off as he shouted, "what?"

"You did not just say that!" Sirius demanded, reaching over and yanking the book away, though the second his eyes landed on the words they still managed to double in size.

"That's what all this fuss has been about?" Lily snorted. "I think I'd have preferred to hear about the Quidditch matches."

"Well that's a little harsh," Remus laughed. "I've heard all about these things, and they sound like a blast."

"Clearly we haven't heard about the same thing," Lily snorted, several events that ended in deaths first coming to her mind.

Harry did not join in the celebration of whatever this meant, but instead felt a cold chill break out over him. This was going to be terrible, of that he had no doubts. Yet his fourteen year old mind was just sort of confused on the topic, and as trying to think on reasons why he wouldn't like this for any time gave him a headache, he instead inserted, "what's that?"

"Oh you're going to love this pup," Sirius smirked. "It's this event where they take students from different schools and pin them against each other in these crazy matches. One year they had hippoi athanatoi-"

Harry interrupted like Sirius had just spoken Greek.

"Fire breathing horses," he waved off, "and they raced them around this swamp filled with-"

"Please stop," Lily moaned, pressing her hands to her ears.

Sirius rolled his eyes at her but said, "anyways, the point is, it's like this huge game to prove your school's the best."

"Sounds like fun honestly," Harry laughed, he couldn't help it with all the enthusiasm Sirius was showing, and his attitude had successfully pushed away any negative feelings Harry originally had.

"Well, it was canceled a long time ago," Remus added on with a smirk. "They seemed to have problems controlling, ah, certain aspects of it, and well-"

"Almost every year a contestant died," Lily finished bluntly.

"You're a worry wart," James scoffed. "That was years ago, and you think the same thing about Quidditch."

"Rogue bludger," she said bluntly, causing all four boys to sigh, and Harry to try and defend:

"But Dobby-"

"Bucking broom, dementors, do I need to keep going?" she threatened, causing him to wince and admit defeat.

"What are you being such a baby for?" James groaned at her. "Didn't Molly say something about an age limit? I'd think she'd have told her kids about this ages ago, so that she could tell them not to join, if they were old enough."

"Yeah, you probably have to be of age or something," Remus agreed. "Honestly, that makes sense anyways, you'd think they'd have thought of that in the first place."

Lily at least looked mildly appeased, but his dad's offhand comment brought something back to almost the forefront of Harry's brain. Like his mother should stay worried about this...

James didn't notice Harry's lingering worry though, as he'd admit that this almost did make up for the no Quidditch this year. Harry was going to have a blast watching whatever the schools had cooked up! He quickly snatched the book back from Sirius now so he could keep going.

Fred shouted in shock that Dumbledore must be joking!

"I cannot imagine Dumbledore joking about something like this," Remus laughed.

The tension upon Moody's arrival broke as the whole hall burst into excited muttering, and Dumbledore let it continue for a moment before chuckling and saying he was not joking, though he had heard a funny one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who had gone into a bar- McGonagall cleared her throat loudly to cut him off.

"Ah, why'd she interrupt?" James snickered. "That was a good one."

"I've never heard it," Harry said in surprise.

Even Lily couldn't find it in herself to groan this time as Sirius lit up like a kid with a new toy as he said, "alright, then listen good. A leprechaun, a troll, and a hag all went into a bar."

Sirius put on a false voice as he cried out:

"Benny!" said the bartender to the leprechaun, "I warned you three not to come back here after the last time. Took me weeks to clean up after all the mischief you caused."

He changed voices again to that of his best impression of an Irish man:

"Oh but it's Floss's birthday," said Benny pointing to the hag. Who smiled and showed off her one good tooth. "Give us a quick pint and let Troll and me sing to her. Then we'll be on our way. Cross me heart an' hope ta die."

Sirius then switched back to his normal, though slightly louder then was called for, voice as he continued:

The bartender was a soft-hearted, and rather soft-headed man, and so he did as Benny asked.

No sooner had they finished their drinks when a fight broke out over who should be allowed to give Floss a birthday kiss.

The troll and the leprechaun wrestled like they were caught in Devil's Snare and broke a remarkable amount of glassware. The bartender tried every spell he knew to stop them, but nothing worked. Truth to tell, he was not a very good wizard.

Meanwhile Floss the Hag stood by, grinning and looking quite pleased with the celebration in her honor.

After a lengthy brawl, the troll had the advantage. He towered over the quaking leprechaun, ready to smash an enormous beer barrel over the poor fellow's head."

Then Sirius switched to his best feminine voice, his impression of Lily though he'd never admit that aloud, and said:

"Oh for pity's sake," said Floss who was also an accomplished witch. "Alohomora!"

Sirius continued the pattern of switching between each voice as he finished off the joke.

"With a wave her wand, Floss opened the sealed barrel, dumping a lovely, golden brew over the troll, and quite possibly saving the leprechaun's life.

"Floss!" cried the leprechaun. "Let me thank ye with a wee kiss." But the hag shook her tangled tresses of hair and refused him.

"Yeh see! I'm the one she likes!" shouted Troll. He somersaulted to his lady love and tried to gather her in his great arms, but in a blink of a Cyclops' eye, the hag disapparated and her companions fled.

Once again, the bartender was left with a dreadful mess to clean up. His wife, who had witnessed the whole affair, heaved a sighed and began to mop up the ale."

In this voice he actually tried at Madam Rosmerta, to which he would admit to if anyone had bothered to ask.

"Well, my dear," she said. "At least we've learned two important lessons."

"What's that?" said her grumpy husband. He was in no mood for philosophical musing.

"Obviously," the wise and alarmingly cheerful woman continued, "A Benny saved is a Benny spurned. And a rolling troll gathers no Floss."*

Harry let out a surprised burst of laughter, even the others joined in though they'd heard the joke before. Sirius just had this magical way about him of being able to retell any joke and still making it funny, the one and only exception being his serious/ Sirius joke, but he was still working on that.

Dumbledore agreed now wasn't the time for that joke, and went back to speaking of the Tournament. He knew that some students already knew what this was, so he encouraged them to let their minds wander while he informed the others.

"The only ones who wouldn't know about it are the Muggleborns," Lily snorted, "and even then you're likely to hear about it at least once before you leave school. The stories about this thing still get thrown around some nights."

"How many times has Hogwarts hosted it?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Well the first one was held sometime during the 12th or 13th century," Remus shrugged, "but it officially ended in 1792."

"It was held every five years by each school in turn," James shrugged.

"So Merlin knows how many times exactly," Sirius snorted, not up for doing the math at the moment, but Harry seemed to get the gist of it and nodded.

He began by saying that the Triwizard Tournament was founded over seven hundred years ago, as a competition between the three largest European schools, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A student was selected from each school and set to compete in three tasks. Each school took turns hosting it every five years, but the event ended when the death toll became too high.

Hermione repeated the word death toll in shock, but she was of a minority. Everyone else seemed to be muttering excitedly to their friends about this, not much of a care for people who had died hundreds of years ago.

"You see Lily, you and Hermione worry too much," Remus nodded along.

Lily just sighed, recognizing she was outvoted and it wasn't worth the argument.

When Dumbledore continued, everyone quickly fell silent to listen as he comforted that they'd taken great measures this year to ensure no one would die.

"I'm sure that's what they said last time," Lily muttered to herself, her eye still lingering a moment too long on her son with worry, so she was the only one who noticed him flinch at that statement. She frowned, but didn't call him out on it as he quickly tried to smooth out his face and pretend otherwise.

The heads of the other two schools would be arriving in October, and the selection process would begin on Halloween night.

"Uroh," James couldn't help but mutter, considering nothing good had ever happened on that date!

"I'll agree with you on that one," Harry sighed, rubbing in high agitation at his temple now. He just knew the more he heard about this, the less he was liking it, no matter how persistent his fourteen year old mind was trying to butt in and say this sounded like a blast.

There would be an impartial judge who decided the champions, and the reward was the Triwizard Cup, the glory for their school, and a thousand Galleons prize money.

"Impartial judge?" Harry asked with only the vaguest of interest now, though he tried to hide it for the sake of the men who still looked enthralled by the idea.

"Not happening pup," Sirius said at once, "this is going to be a surprise."

Harry gave him a good natured pout, but didn't argue the point, almost relieved to let it go and hoping Dumbledore would soon as well.

Fred at once said he was going to try.

"Cannot blame him," James cackled, knowing he'd be first in line if this had happened while he'd been there.

He was not the only one, as all around the hall people were nodding along with deep interest at all of this. Dumbledore quickly nipped that in the butt, as he said that there would be an age restriction,

They may have already worked this out, but none of them could honestly bring themselves to groan about it too much. Harry had enough life and death situations the past three years to last them a lifetime. Despite how much of a riot it would be for them to hear about this going on, none of them could even pretend they weren't a little happy Harry wouldn't even get an opportunity.

you had to be of age, seventeen, to enter. There was an uproar at once, the Weasley twins in particular looked murderous.

"I can see why they'd be a little ticked," Remus winced in sympathy. "They are turning seventeen soon enough, it's so close they must feel personally affronted."

"Can't wait to see what they do about it," James said with an old mischievous smirk, which Sirius happily adopted moments later.

Lily chuckled lightly at them, but wasn't going to hold out any real hope either of them got away with anything.

Dumbledore didn't seem to notice as he explained this tournament was dangerous no matter how many safety measures were in place, and anyone underage wouldn't be up for the task.

"Well he's just being a right ol' killjoy," Sirius shook his head in mock scolding.

He looked almost stern now as he asked the students who could not compete, not to waste their time trying.

"Right," James drew the word out in disbelief, "as if half the students in that school aren't going to try anyways."

"It'll be a hoot to hear," Remus snickered.

He rounded the discussion up by saying it was getting late, and they all had to get to class in the morning, and to chop chop off to bed.

"You cannot announce something like that, and actually expect them to chop chop anywhere, let alone bed," Lily said deadpan.

"Least we're in agreement on that," James chuckled.

Dumbledore retook his seat and began speaking quietly to Moody, while the rest of the students began filing out. Fred and George kept their places in mutiny, grumbling to each other how they'd be seventeen in April, they should get their shot.

"And if they'd bumped it down to sixteen, every fifteen year old close enough would be complaining," Remus rolled his eyes. "There really is no happy median."

Fred was saying they couldn't stop him, that the champions would get to have all kinds of fun!

"Right, fun," Lily rolled her eyes, thinking the twins needed to hear some of the stories she had, maybe they'd change that word.

"Can't deny the glory of that," Sirius nodded simply, like his best friend unable to bat away his own desire to see his name tossed into this.

With a thousand Galleons for prize money.

"A lure to any," Remus laughed, not particularly wanting himself to go out and do this, but knowing he'd back either of his friends if they wanted their go.

Ron gave a dreamy agreement to that, but Hermione convinced them all to start heading upstairs. Harry asked who this impartial judge could be?

The others were fighting hard to keep a straight face as Harry eyed them all critically for a clue. It probably wasn't fair of them, but they wanted to see the surprise on his face when he came to realize that answer.

They didn't have any idea, but Fred was certain that a few drops of Aging Potion would get them in.

"Not a bad idea actually," James nodded at once.

"Much more subtle then I would have given them credit for," Remus agreed.

"Sometimes the subtlest things make the biggest impacts," Sirius said with one to many crinkles around his eyes, giving Harry the strong impression he spoke from experience.

Ron reminded that the school knew they weren't of age.

"Well there's that," Harry said, still watching those around him and looking for a crack. "Couldn't Dumbledore saying something to this judge, get them out of it?"

"Nuhu," James wagged his finger, "you're not getting it out of us, you'll just have to wait."

Harry grumbled at them, but had no way to argue the point.

Fred shot back that wouldn't matter, it's this judge who decided, and once he did that was that. Hermione voiced her concern though that people had died in this before. Fred waved that off, saying that was years ago, and what was life without risk?

"And here I used to agree with them," Remus sighed, his smile slipping slightly as he remembered one to many times of the risks of Harry's life.

James and Sirius exchanged put out looks, knowing they would have agreed with the twins before they started these books, but now wishing for nothing more exciting to happen to Harry this year than watching some older students do something stupid and maybe a paper cut from his homework.

Then he turned his attention on his brother, asking if they figured this out would he want in? Ron tried to play it off, saying they hadn't learned enough,

"It's not always what you learned," Sirius shrugged, "it's the ingenuity it takes to win the game."

"I'm glad you're not encouraging him or anything," Lily snorted.

then Neville's voice came from behind them saying that he knew he couldn't do it, but his gran would probably have told him to try anyways and actually bring some honor to the family for once.

"That woman is agitating me the more I hear about her," Lily's scowl deepened, hating to hear about Neville speaking of her the more this carried on. "What woman would say that to a child? It's not his job!"

"Agreed, I've heard Frank go on about her," Remus sighed with pity. "He's about as lovely on the discussion as you are about Petunia."

Lily pursed her lips so tight they went almost white, but all they could really do was feel pity for the poor boy. It was so sad that Neville's life hadn't seemed to turn out much better then Harry's, but sitting here griping about it wasn't going to fix anything.

He was cut off from saying anything else by falling into a trip step.

Sirius went an ugly gray color, remembering his and someone's old gag of trying to push each other into these. It was a terrible blow to the gut at such a random reminder, and he'd already been in such a down mood at the thought of Neville's life he looked pretty bad in that moment.

The others hadn't really noticed though as they all avoided each other's eye in that moment because they'd all thought on the exact same person, and James quickly read past the sticky moment.

Most of the older students knew by now which of these to jump, but Neville had a notorious bad memory and sank up to his knee in the step. Harry and Ron quickly stepped back to pull him out, and as they passed a piece of armor that was laughing at the display, Ron told it to shut it while slamming its helmet shut for it.

"Ron's such a sweet friend, even to someone who's not a best friend," Lily said with a little too much pitch, but it at least made the boys smile again.

They made it up to Gryffindor tower where George gave the password of Balderdash to the Fat Lady, saying a prefect had told him already.

"He's literally been with you the whole time," Remus snorted, "when did this happen?"

"Before they sat down to eat," Harry shrugged.

The common room was as cozy and warm as ever, but Hermione took one look at the glowing fireplace and muttered something about slave labor,

"Glory, in all the fuss I've nearly forgotten about her little problem," James snorted in surprise.

Lily gave him a sharp look, mostly for referring to it as a 'little problem' but wasn't going to have a go at her husband for something she'd already had out with Sirius.

before marching up the stairs. Harry, Ron, and Neville went up to their own dorm, where their other two roommates were already getting ready for bed. Seamus had pinned up his Ireland rosette to his headboard, while Dean had a poster of Viktor Krum above his.

Sirius let out a surprised bark of laughter, thinking that those two who were clearly best friends doing that to each other was pretty hilarious.

They all settled into bed not long after, and Ron whispered sleepily to Harry that if the twins did pull it off, well that tournament you know? He might just go for it.

"I don't think I could stand listening to Ron go through that anymore then Harry," Lily sighed, running her hand through her hair at the thought.

"Thankfully the age rule applies to him to," Remus said peacefully.

Harry half agreed as he rolled over in his sleep, a dream already forming in his mind's eye as he pictured convincing this judge he was seventeen,

"Sorry pup," Sirius smirked, "you could be seventeen and still not pass for it, you're too scrawny."

"Oi," Harry yelped, giving him the stank eye, but the others were too busy laughing to think he meant it.

He'd been picked for Hogwarts champion, and being risen above the crowd with the Triwizard Tournament Cup in hand.

"So not only would you go for it," Remus chuckled, "you have no doubts you'd win eh?"

"Every person in that school is having a similar dream at that moment," James laughed.

"And Harry's actually got some experience to back up the delusion he could," Sirius smirked.

"Delusion?" Harry pouted, choosing to stay in this conversation and ignore the terrible ache he was getting from this daydream...it's not as if it had any meaning at all...right?

"You sure sound confident Harry could win," Lily shot back at Sirius.

"Hey, I'm happy he can't," Sirius threw his hands up in surrender, "I'm just saying, he's lived through some stuff that would give him an edge."

"You should stop talking now," James butted in with a snicker, knowing Sirius didn't mean it, but Lily was giving him the stank eye meaning she was thinking otherwise.

Cho's face in particular stood out, glowing with admiration.

Causing all four of them to smile at Harry's expense, who rather wished his mum and Sirius would start going at it again to save him from this.

Harry grinned into his pillow, exceptionally glad that Ron couldn't see what he could.

"As if Ron wasn't thinking the exact same thing," James snorted as he passed Sirius the book.

"Except possibly with some other girl then Cho," Sirius nodded in agreement.

HPHPHPHPHP

Two big reveals this chapter back to back, hope I did them justice...

* At least, that's Mugglenets version of the joke, the whole of it was taken from there and I claim no originality in that. My personal favorite punchline is something else, but I'm saving that for another book, so just consider this a warning this joke may crop up again.

[tarunsaravana]

Fast Food addiction Scary Stories

All things said here are just theories they are not meant to hurt anything/anyone.

Listen I’m a fast food fan. Clearly I gained a lot of weight that comes from fast food. So ,I am not insinuating that you shouldn’t have fast food. I went to store after store for fast food when I was ten. Like kfc , McDonalds etc. and I noticed always there wasn’t any bad thing with fast food. But it doesn’t change the fact that there are some scary stories about your favorite fast food. Now I am not the only one that loves fast food , over In united States almost 500,000 chain restaurants are there. Everyday millions of people are going to fast food places just to eat fast food buying ingredients they don’t even understand. Even though we all know fast food is bad for us , it causes obesity even scarier than that some fast food situations that involves poisoning, cannibalism, conspiracy behind it ,mass murder and gambling.

CONSPIRACY

Of course the biggest conspiracy of them all , is fast food is created to keep all of us unhealthy, easy to manipulate. Now it is not a secret that fast food that major corporations have been using fast food to profit off of obesity. They also work extra hard to make us bigger. Now why would the corporations want us to be fat.

WEIGHT LOSS INDUSTRY

I mean go into any store , drive down any street and tell me how many weight loss products companies you see, Jenny Craig ,weight watchers , slimfast , slim pills, lean cuisine , 24 hour fitness and every restaurant has a menu of new diet trends , juice cleanses ,literally any you could think of ,people are making money and profit of us being fat. Now the weight loss industry in America are almost eighty billion dollars.and they like the cycle , the cycle ,is you go to fast food restaurant , gain bunch of weight and then you go to the weight loss industry, lose weight. And then you go back to the fast food restaurant , I mean its a one big cycle. and trust me I also going to be in that cycle anyways. Now I want tell you something I saw on the internet (TRUE FACT) about Jenny Craig ,the infamous weight loss company working for a another company called NESTLE. You know it, the same company that makes chocolate. I mean you are telling me , one of the biggest chocolate company is promoting a weight loss company. That proves that These companies work together , to make you fat and then make you lose weight and then repeat. Once again all of these are just theories , not “facts” and they are not meant to hurt anything/anyone. Now when it comes to drugs the United States alone, its worth 600 billion dollars. Which means if you lose all the weight and you don’t need these drugs anymore. And then suddenly they are not making money off you anymore, and they want to keep you fat which means you eat fast food again to gain a bunch of weight.

REAL FACT

Another thing is, have you ever wanted fast food so bad ,like you were craving its because, in fast food they have added chemicals that stimulate your brain to want even MORE fast food. Now we all know that (msg) Monosodium glutamate is a common practice to make food addictive to ourselves even casein. These two chemicals stimulate your brain , and make you addicted. And these chemicals enhance the favour of the food. And this is not a theory its very real.

Just read into what this food executive says “if they replicate that chemical reaction on your tongue, they can stimulate your brain without it being real”.

CONSPIRACY So this is where it gets scary, but its real so, if corparations or who ever in charge of the world ,want us to be fat, unhealthy and easy to manipulate ,you think that they will start while the person is young. Billions of dollars are put into commercials and advertisements FOR EXAMPLE the sponge bob , a children cartoon is promoting a fast food place. If makes you to believe that a kid wants fast food , which we all knows its bad for them, and then the parents are like “alright the kid won’t shut up , lets take them to the fast food place , the kid gets fat , the kid gets obese and then the corporation gets exactly what they want. And its not just about commercials and advertisements , fast food restaurants like McDonalds, litterly create an environment to intice kids . I mean, think about it ,why there are actually ball pits and playground where kids can play. But we are so used to it, when we were kids we enjoyed fast food commercials and advertisements and we enjoyed all the crazy colorful ads. There are some fast food chains that don’t add chemicals and then don’t produce (msg) and casein. And the major corporation don’t like that.

CHIPOTLE

Chipotle is a another food restaurant that doesn’t add any chemicals to it. And the theory is that the major corporations trying to get rid of chipotle. And yes, chipotle unlike other restaurants ,it looks little bit healthier and they said themself that there is no chemicals added to it. They even released a short film starring a scarecrow walking through the factory and seeing the cows , chickens getting pumped and of course the short film has a happy ending. Well two years later after the short film came out something happened, there was a e.coli break at chipotle which made 350 people sick. And this is where things get messed up, a lot of people think that chipotle was a victim of bio terriost attack. A lot of people think one of the biggest multi billion dollar industry poisoned chipotle meat to change the people opinion and public services.well it kinda worked , even I after reading the article I thought chipotle is bad for me and I needed to skip it.

WORST THINGS FOUND IN FOOD (WARNING GRAPHIC EXPLANATION)

A women found two worms at McDonalds sandwich

Even in India we all know that people have found worms on kfc chickens.

Now even scarier than, that sometimes ,an employee puts purposely puts some weird stuff in food like gum, this employee puts a prescription pills. This one gave me the chills ,a boy in arby’s he bite in a sandwich and there was a freaking full blood finger.he described it seemed rubbery and when he spit it ,out it was a employee’s finger who she accidentally cut in the meat station.the employee was treated at a hospital. The boy had a blood test and Arby’s is calling this a isolated incident.

A little girl bite in her Wendys burger and it was full of glass.she munched and “it wasn’t a normal munch states the mother”

As the mother was picking the burger out of her mouth , she was exploiting blood and full glass on her finger.

WORST MOMENTS IN RESTAURANTS

There is a video live leak of a fighting going on in the restaurants like the ice cream caravan. And the craziest part it happened outside of a sheriff’s office. And there is so many videos like this. Even scarier a couple beating up a recipient because the food was cold.

FAST FOOD KILLER

There was a man named Paul Dennis Reid , he was executed in 1997 after a killing spree and a robbery .he killed seven fast food employees. Now Paul Reid committed some of the most violent crimes in American history . His plan was to commit execution style murders at different drive throughs , it started in captain seafood in 1997 and then he pretends to apply a job and he told two employees to walk through the freezer. And then he made them turn around and shot them back in the head. And then he took all their money and left. And then sometime in McDonalds that was only few miles away from the restaurant, their he stole 3000 dollars and then shot three employees in the head. And then he went out of gun ammo and stabbed the last employee. Now the man who got stabbed actually survived he’s name was Antonio Gonzalez, and he testified against Reid and sent him to jail to life. And in a more crime scene he was involved in more murders where he stabbed some employees to death and slashed their throats. He did the death penalty and he died in 2013 from complications.

GAMBLING

After digging into a little bit of reasearch I found a videos of people calling out Chuck E cheese for spoiling kids to gambling. A lot of people talk about the gambling casino hall in chuck e cheese.where a kid can gamble like an adult ,even though we know its bad for them , but no , kids these days are with What with all the flashing screens, dinging bells, and glazed-over customers absorbed in the games at hand, a Chuck E. Cheese arcade bears quite a resemblance to the slot machine section of a casino. Are kids, in fact, gambling in between their pizza and soda?. A youtuber who went by the name of Milly web made an exposing video on chuck e cheese titled “EXPOSING CHUCK E CHEESE.... do NOT trust the rat” that video got a lot of attention and views. Even a man named bob plachno made a video on titled CHUCK E. CHEESE'S PROMOTES UNDERAGE GAMBLING...

He even said that “imagine giving beer to kids , that’s how dangerous chuck e cheese is

Tarun

[shemakesmusic-uk]

TRACK BY TRACK BREAKDOWN: Daddy's Country Gold LP by Melissa Carper

Singer-songwriter and upright bassist Melissa Carper has released her new album Daddy's Country Gold today.

Carper’s refreshingly unique style calls to mind greats like Kitty Wells, Billie Holiday, and Loretta Lynn, beautifully conveyed in the grooves of the album’s 12 sparkling gems. Carper enlisted fellow bassist Dennis Crouch (The Time Jumpers) and producer/engineer Andrija Tokic (Alabama Shakes, Margo Price) to co-produce the album and bring her dream to life. Recorded live to tape at Tokic’s analog studio wonderland The Bomb Shelter in Nashville, the album features Crouch (bass), Chris Scruggs (guitar, steel guitar), Jeff Taylor (piano, organ, accordion), Matty Meyer (drums, percussion), Billy Contreras (fiddle), with guest appearances from Brennen Leigh, Sierra Ferrell, and legendary pedal steel maestro Lloyd Green.

Daddy’s Country Gold is a collection of glittering Carper originals of the country, western swing, and jazz variety. From the first notes of album opener 'Makin’Memories,' to the whimsical 'Would You Like To Get Some Goats,' and the heart-wrenching tenderness of album closer 'The Stars Are Aligned,' this lifetime of work, experience, and wanderlust culminates in a beautiful portrait of heartfelt music, written by a road-lovin’ gal who has lived these songs and spent her life playing music for folks that still love the real thing.

We asked Melissa to breakdown Daddy's Country Gold track-by-track to give us more insight into what the songs on the LP are about. Read it below.

Makin' Memories

Most of my songs' inspirations will come just from a beginning phrase or idea and then they will take off from that.  With 'Makin' Memories,' the inspiration came from a conversation I was having with a friend, they were joking about 'Makin' memories and keepin' your memories.'  I thought it was funny and a good song idea. The first line came to me, 'I'm makin' memories I'd like to remember.'  I always have a hard time remembering people's names, especially getting introduced to so many folks at shows and traveling all around, so thus 'Larry and Steve.'  Then, of course, there is the whole idea of not remembering what happened when you have had too much to drink, something I may have done a time or two. This is just a fun, lighthearted song that hopefully makes people chuckle.  I love Frank Sinatra and this song happened to take on a bit of that Sinatra flair.  

I Almost Forgot About You

The idea for 'I Almost Forgot About You' came from a weekend in which I had a very good time and had managed to forget about a love interest that I had been obsessing about. When I got back home that phrase came to me, 'I Almost Forgot About You,' and I realized I had a song there.  I just kind of tied in the various lost loves of my life to come up with the rest. The bridge for this song came later and sort of magically. I primarily write without an instrument in hand and develop the words and melody first and then I sit down and figure out the chords after.  This bridge I am particularly happy with the spaces and the way the phrasing waits. It came to me that way, and in fact, this entire song had a nice easy flow with the way it all came. I like it when that happens, feels like you are getting help from the universe.  

Back When

A lot of my songs are based on my real-life experiences, and with 'Back When,' every single word of that was lived and true. I started writing it a bit after a break up while longing for the relationship I once had with someone, that is--the beginning of the relationship when we were in love and everything was wonderful. It was written with a hopeful desire that things could be as they once were, and though that never happened, I feel like this song does have that hopeful air that maybe 'back when' could happen again, for any relationship that has lost that spark.  

Old Fashioned Gal

'Old Fashioned Gal' was inspired by spending some time in the beautiful country of West Virginia.  I did receive help from a West Virginian on the names of flowers and such.  Before writing it, I had been listening on Sirius radio to a station with old jazz tunes--if I remember correctly--while driving back from a long tour with the Carper Family.   Usually, if I listen to a certain style over and over, the next thing I write will have that influence.  Like I do with most of my songs, I developed the melody and lyrics first in my head and then sat down to find the chords on guitar.  It ended up having a surprising amount of chord changes in the chorus and changing in odd spots rhythmically, but that's what the melody dictated and I like the way it twists and turns and throws you a bit off-balance there in the chorus.  

You're Still My Love

'You're Still My Love' is just a sad love song and written from real-life experience. I had been listening to Jolie Holland before I wrote this one and I think it affected the embellishments in the melody.  Also, I think Patsy Cline came out, probably from listening so much to Patsy in my childhood.  This one wrote itself real quick and I remember camping and sleeping in the back of my van while writing it. 

Would You Like to Get Some Goats?

When I wrote 'Would You Like to Get Some Goats' I had a girlfriend at the time whose dream was to have a goat farm. I had fun with double-entendre and metaphors in this one.  And it kind of likens the commitment of getting goats with the commitment of marriage. I have heard goats are quite a commitment but they sure are cute when they are little babies.  

My Old Chevy Van

'My Old Chevy Van' is an emotional song for me.  I inherited my family's 1991 Chevy Van and had been driving it for six years or so when I moved from Arkansas to Austin, Texas in 2009.  I drove it around Texas for a year or two and then felt like it was time to sell it as maintenance was getting expensive and it got terrible gas mileage. I had lived in the van at various times, having a traveling lifestyle, and then there were all the memories it held from childhood. At the time of writing the song, both my mom and dad had already passed on. I had no idea when I sold this van how sad I would be because it had such a connection to them. I still wish I had not sold it and just kept it around as a guest house. The seats in back folded out to be a bed and it was quite comfortable to ride in with the luxury bucket seats. I named her 'Barbie' because the pink and purple paint job reminded me of my Barbie van I had growing up. I had been listening to Hazel Dickens a bunch when I wrote 'My Old Chevy Van' and I feel that was influential. This song needed a bridge and my old bandmate, Jan Bell (who knew Barbie), helped me find some lyrical ideas that fit just perfectly for the bridge.  

Arkansas Hills

I wrote 'Arkansas Hills' when I was driving back from a Christmas trip to Wisconsin. I started writing it around St. Louis and I did not have a smartphone to give me directions. I had probably scribbled some directions down or was looking at a map and I remember telling myself out loud a few times, so I would remember the highways, '44 West out of St. Louis to 65 South,' and then I thought to myself well that's a nice start to a traveling song. So I started writing it while I was driving down the road, and had it pretty much finished by the time I was pulling into 'my little log cabin' in Arkansas--except I didn't really live in a log cabin, but it sounds good in the song.  Donna Farar of Mountain View, Arkansas helped me write a fourth verse, which I felt the song needed.  Donna wrote all the lyrics to Willie's big hit 'The Last Thing I Needed the First Thing This Morning' and she actually lives in the middle of the woods in Arkansas in a cabin, so I felt that enlisting her help was a perfect choice.  

It's Better if You Never Know

'It's Better if You Never Know' is one of my more recent songs and it was inspired simply by a conversation with songwriters in Nashville at a table in a bar. Once I had moved to Nashville and began co-writing with some folks, I realized you can get a song idea at almost anytime if you are paying attention, just listening to a good phrase someone might say. In this instance, someone said 'It's Better if You Never Know' and someone else said that sounds like a good song. I started trying to write it the next day. I'm getting better at writing songs that don't necessarily have a link to me personally, however, I do believe when a song has that personal link it can have an extra emotional feeling that is conveyed to the listener.  

I'm Musing You

'I'm Musing You' came about while I was driving down the road on a road trip. I hadn't written a song in a while and was thinking about how I have often used the same muse or muses to create a song, by thinking back on old times. I thought to myself 'I need a new muse, I need to stop delving back into these old times.' And there was the song.  

Many Moons Ago

With 'Many Moons Ago,' a musician friend of mine used that phrase, many moons ago, and I thought wow I like that, people don't use that phrase much anymore, so I decided to write a song with the phrase. I had been listening to a Delmore Brothers tape over and over in my truck and, though I don't even remember the specific song, I know that something from that tape inspired the melody to 'Many Moons Ago.' Often times I will not know what I am copying or if I am copying something, but there is just something present in my consciousness that brings about a certain style or melody. This song doesn't have many lyrics, but I like the simple message it conveys that time does heal and growth occurs and you move on even when you feel you are dealing with something you can never get over.

The Stars Are Aligned

'The Stars Are Aligned' just came from the romantic feeling of a new relationship with a soulmate you have been waiting for. It flowed out just naturally from that first phrase, the 'Stars Are Aligned.' I love the way this one lends itself to a string section in the background, almost Disney princess-like, and I am so pleased with the lovely string parts on this recording. The string parts were written by my girlfriend and first-class fiddler, Rebecca Patek.

Photo credit: Aisha Golliher