#then maybe I can get away with sharing my own tinfoil thoughts

[carlottastudios]

So I think I'm making some decent progress on my unhinged Kaeya lore thoughts post

The WIP of the mindmap is below the cut

I'm really scared that I'm still missing a lot of stuff, but it's past midnight now so I'll be stopping for now and actually get some sleep

[rrasado]

Could I make a headcanon request of the demon brothers with a MC who thinks they aren't good enough for the exchange program? Like they think they're too slow at learning magic and that there's nothing special enough about them to justify everything Diavolo expects of them and all the praise they get. If it could be romantic but like the very beginning of a relationship? Like they just started dating or they're at that stage where they've both acknowledged a crush but haven't quite started dating yet.

• Second Thoughts •

Gomen for the late serving I caught a nasty cold that kept me away from my device screens TwT. I think most MCs have at one point thought of whether they deserve to be where they are in the story, doubt is normal as we are, all human. I hope that even without the context of this request we can all one day learn to appreciate our own self worth regardless of who we stand next to. There's never a perfectly similar set of lives and I think the space for variety is what gives us all our own unique navigation in life.

When you're having doubts about your place:

The avatar of pride had only ever felt doubt few times in his whole life, first was the fall, second was the deal and third was the sudden divide among his brothers. Otherwise, his sin keeps him level headed and clear with his logic hence the seldom doubt. That and he had many things to keep himself assured...but you, well...

This of course only applied to him, his partner on the other hand was human, beings prone to equal ends of sympathy and loathing. This double edged humanity you possess is what helped him and his brothers yes but it simultaneously hindered your self reflection, a sight far from how Luci viewed you after coming into terms with his fostered affection for you.

It started from hushed curses under your breathe, the gaze you give to the other exchange students whenever they display their prowess for an assignment or a minor problem- easily fixed as opposed to your simple self who might’ve taken longer. He's skillful in reading people given how long he's been doing it and someone who painfully lacks pride is an easy thing to catch for him.

He subconsciously began giving you a bit more praise for your efforts, especially for projects he knew you poured so much attention to. Perhaps it was your nature that led you to become more meticulous to detail compared to the angels and the wizard. And when you two finally admitted the mutual pining you've been keeping, he'll be able to actually do more for you as opposed to his restricted methods before.

He's not one to outright spoil you, that's more of Asmo's forte. Whenever you two are alone or close to eachother physically, secluded somewhere. He subtly reminisce on your arrival, how he felt the faintest of a tug when he first reviewed your document after the wind slipped your paper on his desk.

"Fate...you'd assume I'd loath it and on some days I do, but loathing doesn't mean I regret what I've experienced... if anything it gave me you, here by my side."

White lies are something he'd never give, teasing he does on some days. But Lucifer is a man who never pities for pity's sake. He's a man who holds what he deems he wants close to him far from the world's cruelty, far from fate's canines that have already dug scars on his back.

He doesn't let you go that day, not until you realize that you're where you are now because you never deviated from your moral code, never giving up on him or his brothers. The assurance he gives is straightforward but are all meant for you and you alone. The one who managed to catch the affections of the Avatar of Pride, and his pride was also his to share with you.

Mammon is our idiot in shining tinfoil and we adore him for that, he's taken aback by your patience or rather your endurance throughout your stay here in the program. The fact that you stuck by him even when he first attempted to get the best of you? Maybe humanity felt nice after all!-

Then just like on other certain nights where he'd sneak over to your room as per usual, your muffled doubts of not deserving to be here as an exchange student stopped him in his tracks. What the hell were you going on about?- then mammon proceeds to out himself by accidentally stumbling through your door.

Tragically failing at pretending he just got there before going on his tangent of how the great mammon would never ever make a pact with an undeserving human that's definitely not pertaining to your prior dilemma- Shh dear we get your point and you did appreciate his attempt.

The sentiment was there and knowing how he usually is, that's currently the highest praise you'd get from him. But the demon of greed still sensed your second thoughts. After all it takes one to know one right? He doesn't spill his own problem of being disrespected despite being the 2nd eldest but he's in his position because of his own doing. Just like how you're diligently marching forward in the program.

His rant may have stopped but whenever another lower class demon poked fun at your simple nature at RAD mammon is already by your side chewing them off hoe that's THE great mammon's human they're making jabs at, the human that's passing classes in spite of having setbacks compared to other students who fail in the same class.

"So what if they can't summon great beasts fast like your bunch huh?!?! They don't need one when the great Mammon is here for them!"

You had to pull him away before a physical fight can ensue (not like he'd lose-) but still. Him defending you was one of the things that made you lean your affections on him and when you two were finally far from the scene he can't help but to ask why you tool him away when he wasn't done enumerating why they suck compared to you.

Mammon has his own problems but that's precisely what made him more capable at assuring you albeit contorted behind his tsun nature. The avatar of greed may not be the most infamous at sharing but this similar burden you two have is something he'll gladly shoulder just to make you realize that being by his side here in hell is not a mistake.

It's no secret that Levi doesn't hold back with his jabs, it tends to loose its edge due to his stammering delivery but that didn't mean he actually meant every word he spills in defense.

They're exactly that, a defense mechanism against any potential retort against him. So imagine how he felt when the exchange student in the House Of Lamentation began to look worse for wear. It felt like seeing a forbidden scene scrapped from the final production, you were progressing nicely as a typical protagonist with your situation and your setbacks so why-

He knew why, this wasn't a shounen series, you were a real person with genuine feelings that can either push you forward or back. Perhaps he's been toggling on a fictitious image of you for too long via his envy but if he can do anything to help well, a password to his room is unneeded.

Levi cursed himself for somehow managing to offer you some help, as far as he knew the only thing he can help with was textual assignments and such, but that didn't mean he'd outright give up in helping you with practical magic like spellcasting or whatnot.

It was awkward at first but he just reminds himself why he was doing this in the first place, after all the hero Henry reached his goals because he was aided by companions so why can't he do that? That's likely also the time he realized you chose him out of all his brothers for help. Affection was realized a tad bit later but he couldn't reject the feeling that perhaps this was his moment, a moment with you set up by fate's design.

"I- know I called you awful things before but the tbh I wouldn't have any other h..human lodging with us. N-nor do I wanna help someone else because only you can manage to make it this far"

Pressure isn't kind to both of you either, this leads to him subconsciously tugging yourselves away whenever he feels the praise and ramble of what you can achieve in the devildom from the prince get too much. Levi says that getting game achievements isn't a speed run and that the in between content is what should be prioritized.

Whatever you don't believe in, he's there to spew what he believes of you, not expectations high and mighty but assurance that in your raid party of two he's there to offer support and buffs.

As far as the Avatar of Wrath goes, he's likely the best person when it came to analyzing your assets. It can be compared to books and artifacts, these things vary in their own right some may be powerful despite the ruined visage others can be regal in every angle yet be as useless as any decoration put up for show.

You were not eye catching, at least compared to the two angels and Sorcerer. Then he chalked it up to "variety" since- can they really call Solomon human?/lh But the more he got to know you the more he felt immersed in your narrative, after all it's not often he got to live with a human right? The most he got was via history lectures or stories from your kind.

To him your simplicity was bliss, it taught him slowly to appreciate the smaller things one has to offer because at the end of the day it's those small things is what the mighty fail to learn. But when his growing affection for you led him to catch your vulnerable state, face in your textbooks and a painfully fatigued expression well..

He's in front of your desk in a blink. Leaning down and looking at the unit you're studying, oh? This should be easy for him to explain- and explain he did. This was once, it became twice, the next week was thrice and so on it became a routine where either of you two go to the other's room. This routine earned his place in your affection and it definitely helped bringing you two closer.

But on days when the doubt really dwells on your mind, he won't force you to study with him, he's always disliked being pressed under Diavolo's thumb and knowing his wishes for you as the second human in the Devildom, light whispers of assurance are spilled with his arms around your figure.

"You've come farther than most care to try for...and I find that admirable of you, and knowing that I'm here to at least ease the burden... then that's something I'm willing to do until you realize just how appreciative everyone is of you being here."

Exam season tend to end in you two taking a trip to a nearby cat Cafe, he deems you very deserving of a reward and the refreshments along with the critters definitely felt rewarding, especially seeing your eased smile reflected by the cafe lights.

Satan learned to be patient in order to keep his sin at bay, and he'd still be patient if it means seeing you slowly see just what sort of narrative you have at play in your book, one where the cover houses a story of discovery only you can finish at your pace. You're a human and to him this was your greatest quality he came to cherish.

Asmo was rather, quick to catch your second thoughts. It's uncanny how he might be second to the first born and do you want to know why? He pays a bit more attention to you to see if there's anything he can use to charm himself into your abode.

Not the most righteous reason but his intentions started as that, he took it as an opportunity to be buddy buddy with you and hey he's close to Solomon so it's an easy referral should you need help! You have him for seductive speechcraft needs and when it comes to Alchemy aligned subjects- his years of conducting the perfect makeup for his skin isn't something to laugh at.

Getting close to you did start from a promiscuous intent but overtime the bond became something more meaningful than he intended, he doesn't realize until he's subconsciously asked Solomon if he can take a snap of his notes for your lecture needs. Technically you haven't revealed whether you needed help in that area but Asmo's thoughts beat him to it.

But here you were alone in one of the RAD laboratories, hunched on an Alchemy project you really needed to perfect by the end of the day, when you heard him open the door Asmo couldn't help himself from feeling over the moon due to your sudden shift in expression.

You looked, genuinely glad he was there. Not the lust he's grown used to relishing in but rather a genuine affection reserved for him and his acts...he's come to question whether he's still acting anymore, is he? With how close he's holding your face to his yet never taking your kiss well..

"You're one of a kind darling and it feels normal hearing it from me huh~...well I meant it, and I wouldn't have it any other way, dearest"

You exceeded what he initially thought of you as and that was the greatest mistake he made on his end. You and all you had... he holds it not in the shiniest regard, but in the most valuable way he could. Whenever you question your right to stand as a representative of your race- Asmo is there to assure you amongst the threshold of butterfly kisses and sweet words he reserves for you and not his former partner in bed.

What you lack is where your strength lies, you know the pain and the empathy that comes with it is what keeps you better than those no name bastards of the lower demon population. Your place in the exchange student program is locked with your blood sweat and tears each one he'd kiss away anyday if it meant offering you a time of rest.

Unlike Mammon, your doubts are something he can relate on a specific degree. After all he's always questioned what could've happened had he been a bit stronger, faster or wiser on that day...

But, your doubts were justified. Not in a mocking sense but Beel has seen how some people act when put in an overwhelming situation. You probably didn't plan on falling into literal hell months ago but here you are, pushing every task forward with all your might even if sometimes your unaided strength alone wasn't enough. Even then when he sees you stagnant in place unsure what to do he never once looked down on your hardship.

Hoping to offer some sort of coping he offered for you two to grab a bite after a particularly hard class, your initial protest was understandable but he then goes on to explain how taking your mind off the material would probably help clear your build up of confusion. Whether he believes in this logic or not is unclear- he just learned to make many excuses for food before.

He isn't the smartest among his brothers (compared to his academically inclined nii-sans sure) but when it comes to your form and stance during practical subjects, he's able to give a word or two. This routine sandwiched between your talks over food gradually became something he looks forward to during his free time.

One day when you didn't show up on time on your agreed location, he went ahead and ordered your usual favorite (something he picked up after eating with you on numerous occasions.) After ordering his own portion only then does he go on a hunt for his eating study partner. He found you staring off into space while leaning against the student council office doors. A meeting with the prince perhaps?

"Hey your food will go bad, c'mon let's get you somewhere we can eat at, hm? Just eat, yes "

He saves the concern for when you two are far from the RAD vicinity, near the ruined brick lining on its campus he discovered before when he went looking for Belphie at one point. Once you two are settled he hands you your (albeit partially eaten) snack, only then did he spoke again going on small bits of how he's really glad you're here showing everyone what a human is capable of even without the flare of magic you so desperately wished you're good at.

If anything, that only made your victories more authentic. Beel even from a food or sports perspective, sees you for what you're determined to do among the countless demons who took their skills for granted. That admiration became a romantic string that tied him to you, and when all was said and done he never thought of what could've been with you.

The irony that he of all people felt impacted, but compared to Levi his guilt lies more on the fact that he may have deepened those wounds of self doubt at one point. You've done so much for everyone even before the dust settled on your reveal and yet you still saw yourself as someone unworthy.

Belphegor isn't the most vocal among the brothers but he's one of the more brutally honest, give or take. And he does agree that your fellow exchange students are flashier in comparison but he does softly bring in the thought that, being the least strongest doesn't mean being weak if that makes sense.

As the seventh among the brothers he does have an inkling as to what its like, but that doesn't inherently get him to say that he fully understands. And so in order to fix that he simply let's himself lay near wherever you are. Perhaps it was lilith's blood in you but even that reason didn't feel right for him, Belphegor felt at ease when he sleeps near you and it ends with your hand on his head.

When you're overworking yourself to revise notes or review lectures he does pull you away from the lamp's light, snuggling to you close and murmuring how you've done enough work for that day. He managed to balance the expectant force that lingers on your mind everytime you study,and that managed to lull you into a peaceful slumber.

In the morning when you try to leave he doesn't let you and as much as you two began to be closer (and more in tune with a festering love deep down) the action garnered a scoff on your end- you needed to do things how else would you be able to catch up and make up for what you lack. Your voice cracks when he suddenly reached to cup your face.

"Make...up? H... you've done...more good than.. what anyone in this house managed to do for...this..family...and I think, had it been anyone..else, they wouldn't have ...accomplished...what you did.."

It was evident how taken over he was with morning daze (then again when is he not) but he's said what he said and this wasn't a farce he's feeding you, no not after he's said he'll make it up to you. To hell with what the Devildom prince says and to hell with what the first born expects-

You're singlehandedly one of the few good things he's gotten and he'd be damned if he's letting it slip under his watch. Belphie isn't Asmo but physical touch is his way of showing he loves you and what you already do for everything.

[wienerbarnes]

A Certain Romance (1/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,513

Warnings: fake dating au, mention to past abusive relationship

A/N: im so EXCITED to start posting this series lmk what yall think!!!

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST

He couldn’t quite think of a word to describe the restaurant.

The deep tones of maroon on the walls contrasting against the clean, stark-white tablecloths, tablecloths that have been so deeply washed, soaked in bleach and radiating chemical residue beneath plates of fancy and over-priced dishes for people who have too much money than they know what do with.

Ratatouille is the special for tonight, priced at $32. Side dishes extra, of course.

The overly simple decor on the walls with lighting so dim you’d think they forgot to pay the electric bill, all in the name of minimalism and an art form you just wouldn’t understand.

Bucky has news for them, though. Minimalism won’t get rid of their depression and anxiety, and a $30 plate of vegetables won’t bring you happiness.

His collar feels tight around his neck, even though the first two buttons on his shirt are undone. The longer he stands around waiting for Sam, the more ridiculous he feels. He’s sweating suddenly, and all he wants to do is leave, go back to his apartment, to Alpine, and take off this stupid monkey suit of an outfit.

Where r u?

Should be sitting pretty at a table already. Wearing a cute lil red dress. maybe blue, not sure.

“Son of a bitch,” Bucky mumbles under his breath after reading Sam’s text.

It’s Bucky’s fault at this point. Not only is this not the first time Sam has done this to him, set him up on a blind date and tell him it's him he’s meeting and not a girl, but it’s not the second either. Sam has done this three times, and this is going to be the fourth. How do you let this happen to you four times?

It’s not a surprise either when the date goes horribly all three times, either. The girls are always nice and always beautiful, but Bucky’s in such a sour mood by the time he reaches the table that it’s a failure from the start.

That’s a good word to describe the restaurant. Sour.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a table under Sam. Or maybe Bucky.” He approaches the hostess, praying that whoever Sam has set him up with isn’t here and that they stood him up.

“Ah, yes, your date has been waiting.” She tells him, and he tries not to roll his eyes.

The walk through the restaurant to the table makes him feel more ridiculous than when he was waiting. He feels all eyes on him and it makes his skin crawl, even though when he glances around, everyone has their eyes on their own date; their date that probably wasn’t sprung up on them by a man who dresses up like a bird for a living.

Careful not to trip over his own feet in the dark room, the only lights being small bulbs on a thin string from the high ceiling, he sees a table that’s probably for him.

The only table with one person sitting alone, he spots you looking down at your phone with a slight frown on your face. Sam was right on his first guess, you’re wearing a deep red dress, thin straps over your shoulders and he can see through underneath the table that it flows down to your calf. Nude heels adorn your feet as they are crossed at the ankle, and he can’t help but feel a little bad.

Just because he thinks minimalism and expensive meals are stupid doesn’t mean that other people don’t enjoy them.

“Hi, uh, sorry I’m a little late.” He greets as he takes his seat.

You look up from your phone and give him a closed-lip smile, an unspoken way of saying it’s alright, but he’s seen that tight smile on too many girls before to know that, no, it’s not really alright.

“I’m Bucky, what’s your name?” He asks, hoping that the sooner he starts the conversation, the sooner he can get the fuck out of here. Respectfully.

As far as introductions go, this has definitely been the most awkward. Neither of you know what to say. Not that he’s about to go around giving Sam advice about setting him up with people, because he certainly wouldn’t want Sam to take that as him asking him to try again, but he couldn’t have set him up with someone worse.

It’s painfully awkward, and he feels himself sweating again, blushing from slight embarrassment at this disaster of a date.

The waiter hasn’t even brought out the bread yet.

He can’t do this.

“Listen,” He begins after a few minutes of silence and the two of them awkwardly glancing around the room, as though the avant-garde art pieces are the most interesting thing either of them have ever seen.

“I’m sorry if I don’t seem like I want to be here, it’s because I don’t. And it’s got nothing to do with you, it’s just that Sam told me I was meeting him here because he thinks he knows best when it comes to setting me up on dates even though I’ve told him countless times that -”

He stops when he realizes you’re laughing. Giggles escaping from behind your manicured hand that’s attempting to cover your mouth, he can’t believe you’re laughing at him. As if the date couldn’t get worse.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt you.” You tell him, the most you’ve spoken the entire night, only really telling him your name and a few one-word answers a while ago.

“It’s just that I don’t want to be here, either. And Sam also told me I was meeting him here, not a date. And I thought that was funny.”

That bastard, Bucky thinks. But he appreciates that it’s the situation you find funny, and not him. He’s never had a date laugh at him before, and as tough as he is, he can’t lie and say it wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

He opens his mouth to say something but another man in an equally ridiculous monkey suit such as his own approaches the table, a basket of bread in hand.

He can’t help but notice how small the breads are and the fact that the butter is individually wrapped in those small tinfoils - not even The Cheesecake Factory does that, they bring butter in a tiny dish - but he doesn’t say anything.

At least now he has something to do with his hands.

The two of you both pick at the bread in your hands, and while the tension is somewhat eased at the table with the confession that neither of you want to be there, it’s still silent and awkward, as neither of you have spoken again.

Bucky doesn’t know what causes him to say it, maybe it's the obligation he feels to keep the conversation going and fill the silence, maybe his mind just insists on making the evening worse, because apparently that’s possible.

“My best friend died. Recently. And Sam’s been setting me up on these dumb dates to take my mind off it.” He says, and he sees out of the corner of his eye your hands pause around the bread and your head lifts slightly to look at him, though he doesn’t do the same.

“Sam was a little better about it at first, using distracting me as a way to distract himself while we both grieve. But he’s got the whole Captain America thing, helping his sister, working with Torres; he got over it a little quicker than I did and… expected me to get over it, too.”

He’s afraid to meet your eyes. He’s not sure why he just told you that, or why he felt like he owed you an explanation in the first place. He doesn’t even know you! What does he care if the date is awkward? He could leave now and never see you again and not feel bad about, and yet he sits here, sacrificing his own comfort in order to attempt to salvage the evening by being honest? Is honesty even what you want?

“My boyfriend beat the shit out of me. If we’re sharing tragic backstories, I mean.” You reply, looking down at your own bread now that Bucky’s head has snapped up to look at you, a humorless smile on your face.

“Had to move states, change my name, the whole nine yards. And while I wasn’t grieving a best friend, I was grieving… myself. My old life. And Sam doesn’t just distract himself by setting you up on dates, he’s been doing that with me, too. And, so, I kind of get what you mean, when you say that other people get over it and expect you to be okay, too.”

Another pause of silence, but the awkwardness is gone now.

“How many times have you heard the phrase, The grieving process is not -”

“Linear? Too many times. If I had a dollar for everytime I heard that, I’d probably have enough money to afford a plate at this place.” You finish for him, a disgusted look on your face. Almost the same look he had on his face when he entered the restaurant.

He laughs, though. The first time he’s laughed tonight.

“Are you two ready to order?” The waiter interrupts again, small booklet in hand, and thick French accent in the air. Of course, the waiters here are French, how is he even surprised?

“Do you mind if we have a few more minutes with the menu?” Bucky replies, not receiving much of an answer as the waiter looks him up and down, gives him a curt nod, and leaves the table once more.

“Listen, I don’t know about you, but this place looks like… I don’t even know, but it just looks sad, and I know a pretty good pizza place a few blocks away. If you don’t mind walking. Or continuing this date as friends?” He squints as he finishes his question, hoping you won’t take it as him playing hard to get, and actually want to be friends and absolutely nothing more.

“You had me at pizza.”

With the bread from the restaurant in hand and his jacket around your shivering shoulders, the two of you make your way down the sidewalk, stomachs rumbling at the thought of cheap, greasy, slices of pizza.

Sitting among people in their pajamas and otherwise casual clothing, it’s safe to say the two of you are the best-dressed people in the joint. Bucky tells you this and you laugh again, agreeing. Slice after slice goes down easily, much easier than any plate at that stupid clownhouse of a restaurant.

The conversation is easier, too. It’s almost like it was so bad before because of the suffocating atmosphere of the restaurant, The Fork, a stupid name for a stupid place.

What was that word he said before? Oh, yeah. The restaurant was sour. The pizza place, though, run by two older, heavier men with ungroomed mustaches and dark pit stains, is much less sour.

“I surprisingly had a good time tonight. I’m really glad we both came to an understanding of not wanting to date due to our individual unresolved trauma and issues, that we should probably be in therapy for.” You tell him, after thanking him for paying the six dollars both your copious amounts of pizza slices cost.

“I did, too. I’m just glad we didn’t have to stay at that dumb restaurant, I mean what was Sam even thinking with that place?” He rubs his fingers over his eyes in lasting disbelief. He’ll never let Sam live that place down.

“Speaking of Sam,” You start, stepping out of the pizza place as Bucky holds the door open for you, “Would you mind telling him that the date went well?”

“I mean, technically it did, didn’t it?”

“It did. But if we tell him that we left with a newfound friendship rather than sore legs and sex hair, he’s just going to keep setting us up on more shitty dates. I mean he’s great, but he does a better job at being Captain America than he does at being Cupid.”

“Agreed. He’ll just keep setting us up with people until we end up dating one of his picks, regardless of friendships made along the way. He’s too competitive, he doesn’t see friendship as a success, only a boyfriend or girlfriend.” Bucky admits.

“So… if he asks, we’ll just say we’re going to go on another date? And then whenever we hang out, we’ll just -”

“Be extremely and explicitly clear about it to him.” Bucky finishes.

They smile at each other satisfied, satisfied knowing they’re finally going to outsmart the bird man, they’re finally going to be done with shitty, last-minute blind dates that they never wanted to go on in the first place.

“Do you need a ride home?”

“Oh, no, my friend’s on her way to get me now.”

“I’ll wait with you then.”

Cheesy flirting ensues as the two of you joke about fake dating, competing to see who can think of the worst pick up line. Bucky feels a bit embarrassed that he probably would’ve used a few of these a few decades ago when he was a fresh, young man, but he doesn’t dare mention that to you. No need to give you more ammunition to use against him, and especially no need to risk you mentioning it to Sam.

Your least favorite, and evidently his favorite, is If happiness starts with “H,” why does mine start with “U”?

He laughs as you dramatically gag on the sidewalk, almost not noticing the car pulling up to the two of you.

“This is me. Oh, here’s your jacket by the way.” You move to take it off from atop your shoulders but he stops you.

“Hold onto it for me. And also, mention to Sam that you’re holding onto it for me.” He winks.

“Will do. Boyfriend.”

“Drive safe. Girlfriend.” He opens the passenger door for you, greeting your friend briefly, and offering a hand out to help you sit inside, closing the door after you’ve clicked your seatbelt.

He watches the rear lights grow smaller and smaller as you disappear down the street, and he begins walking back to where you two came from. His bike is still parked at the restaurant, after all.

That was probably the best date - not a date, friend date - he’s ever been on, and by far Sam’s greatest success yet, even if it’s not the romantic relationship he probably intended.

It was nice to talk to someone without the pressures of impressing them, the intrusive thoughts questioning their deeper motives or what it is exactly they want out of a date with him. He tried engaging in the whole hookup-one-night-stand culture once, and didn’t like it at all.

Not to mention, he’ll never have to go on one of Sam’s set-up dates again! And he didn’t even need to get a girlfriend to do so!

The night couldn’t have ended better, and he can’t wait to tell Sam all about it.

[spaceskam]

the impossible replication of desire

Summary: Body sharing fic!

Warnings: panic attacks, their trauma (Alex has a dream of Michael’s exorcism & a dream of Jesse Manes’ abuse, super easy to skip), angst, happy ending

ao3

Alex was tired.

His steps were heavy as he climbed the stairs of his porch, heading towards the front door of the cabin. All the lights were off, but that didn’t mean anything. Michael’s truck was out front. He was home.

Home. Alex nearly flinched at his own thoughts, carefully unlocking the door in slow motion before pressing in the code on the keypad for the third lock. This wasn’t Michael’s home and he wasn’t Michael’s family. He made that clear more than enough times, but Alex’s home was open to him and so was the security of his bunker. It was all Michael’s if he wanted it and therefore here he was.

After not only being taken by his father, but discovering his house practically ransacked, Alex put his house up for sale and moved into the cabin. A chunk of money he got from the sale was spent on security systems. It was more difficult to break into than the White House now.

He knew Michael would be here. He felt safe coming home and knowing he would be there, all of the notifications from his security system and the easy access to his security cameras letting him know long before he could see his truck there for himself. It was nice.

Still, the house was dark as Alex let himself in and then locked the door back behind him, throwing on the chain latch for extra measure. There was light coming from the bunker, but other than that it was just as he left it.

“Did you eat dinner?” Alex called down to the bunker, flicking on the light to the living room to drop his stuff down. He then moved to the kitchen, turning on the light in there and opening the refrigerator. It was basically the same, only restocked with water bottles. He’d thank Michael for that later. “I guess not.”

Alex yawned and pulled out a frozen bag of vegetables from the freezer, turning the oven on to pre-heat. He moved as if on autopilot as he walked past the bunker and towards his bedroom. It was a little weird that Michael hadn’t responded, but maybe he was finishing something up. Alex changed into something more comfortable even while leaving his prosthetic on. He’d take that off later.

“Guerin? Did you fall asleep down there?” Alex asked when he emerged from his room and Michael was still nowhere to be seen. A familiar wave of anxiety shot through his system, his stomach tensing with nausea as he immediately assumed the worst. Which was stupid because he was probably just wearing headphones.

Convincing himself not to worry, Alex put a layer of tinfoil on a pan and then poured the frozen vegetables onto it before putting it in the oven. Then he went and sat on the couch while he waited for it to cook. His phone, however, couldn’t keep his attention as his eyes kept drifting to the bunker. Michael was okay. He was safe in Alex’s bunker. He was just listening to music or too in the zone. There were a billion reasons why we didn’t answer.

“Dinner’s ready!” Alex called when twenty minutes passed and he pulled the food out of the oven. He listened quietly‒no response. “Michael?”

Deciding that he could use the excuse of dinner and it was his house, Alex went to the opening of the bunker. He held on and carefully started climbing down the latter. He hated how many times he would look down to check his foot placement, though he could easily blame the fatigue for his anxiety.

“Michael, what are you‒”

Alex froze as he turned to the work table. Michael stood by it, eyes wide, lips parted, and his hand a new piece of alien tech Alex didn’t recognize. He looked catatonic and Alex could feel his heart thumping in his ears.

“Michael?” he asked, taking a cautious step closer. No reaction, not even a blink or anything. “Hey. Hey, are you alright?”

Alex slowly walked closer and gently touched his shoulder. He didn’t move. Alex swallowed hard, slowly counting down from three mentally to keep himself calm. 

“I’m going to take your hands off of this and then I’m going to call Isobel. You’re alright,” Alex said out loud, more for himself than Michael.

He carefully touched Michael’s wrists and he was abnormally cold, colder than even any human should be, and Alex became increasingly aware that he wasn’t sure he was breathing. He had to count down from three again, head spinning and jumping to conclusions he shouldn’t.

“You’re fine. I know you’re fine. You’ll be fine. This is fine,” Alex repeated, panic swarming his brain like a cloud of bees that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times he swatted. He managed to stay relatively calm nonetheless.

And then he accidentally touched the alien tech in the process of peeling his fingers off of it.

A bright light flashed through Alex’s eyes and a piercing white noise flooded his hearing, cutting him off from most of his senses as something body-slammed him and knocked him to the ground. His mind was too fuzzy to construct thoughts. All he could do was breathe and wait for it to pass even as thoughts and memories crowded into his mind too fast to catch. Half of them he was sure weren’t even his own.

And then it all went black.

-

When Alex came to, his body ached and his head was throbbing.

He sat up slowly, his eyes instantly falling on Michael who hadn’t moved. The sight almost brought Alex to tears‒he felt overwhelmed. He was tired and he hurt and he was overwhelmed. It was like his body was stuffed with emotions that he wasn’t prepared for. Which‒honestly wasn’t that abnormal. Maybe he should go take his anxiety meds before bed…

‘Do I actually look like that?’ Michael asked suddenly. Alex would’ve been relieved by the sound if maybe Michael’s mouth had moved or maybe he’d heard it with his ears rather than inside his own head, alongside his own inner monologue.

“Michael?” Alex asked weakly, still feeling too much. 

‘Don’t freak out, okay?’ Michael said, still inside his head. Tears pricked Alex’s eyes and he started breathing heavier. ‘Alex, hey, don’t freak out. It’s okay. I’m here‒literally. And‒oh, fuck, I don’t like that. Do you feel like that all the time or is it just right now? Is it because you’re panicking? Do you feel this way each time you panic? Because your thoughts are too fast for me to even process and you feel like you’re suffocating which would be bad because I’m in you too and that’s gonna be hard to explain on the death certificate, ha. If you are freaking out, maybe‒’

“Do you always think this much because shut the fuck up,” Alex snapped, meaner than he meant to but he couldn’t think. He needed to just think and he couldn’t when Michael’s thoughts were filling his brain and‒

Oh god, Michael’s thoughts were filling his brain.

‘Hey, my thoughts aren’t that bad. But don’t worry, I think I can sort of keep you out of most of them because I can only hear your loud ones‒I think. I’m gonna need you to calm down before I know for sure.’

“Michael,” Alex whispered, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “Can you please get out of my head?”

There was silence for a moment and Michael must’ve been right that they could only hear the loud thoughts. But‒Well, he could still feel him. He could feel the way he was struggling. If he was in front of him, he would probably have that cocky little smirk and his head tilted back. He would act like he was chill, like he wasn’t scared, maybe he’d pretend to be angry.

But Alex could feel the fear. It was a cold, quiet, deep dread.

“You don’t know how to get out, do you?” Alex asked carefully. 

‘No.’ Michael replied honestly. Which. Fair enough. ‘But I’ll figure it out!’

“Figure it out,” Alex said, “Do… do you even know what happened? How are you in my head? What did you do?”

‘Okay, so, working theory, the alien tech I was messing with was working through my consciousness and when you touched it, it freaked out and put me in the wrong body. So, your body. So my entire consciousness is in you. Kinda kinky if you think about it.’

“No,” Alex whispered, closing his eyes and slowly bowing his head. He didn’t like this. There were a billion ways to feel, but his brain could only say how much he didn’t like this. He didn’t like hearing someone else’s voice in his head.

‘Alex,’ Michael said softly, ‘Alex, are you okay?’

“You’re in my fucking head, what do you mean am I okay? Of course I’m not okay, are you okay?” Alex said, heart thudding in his chest and head still swimming. He was tired and he hurt and he needed to eat and he needed Michael out of his head.

‘Let’s go eat the dinner that you made,’ Michael told him, ignoring the question which was answer enough, ‘Then we’ll come see if I can fix it.’

“I don’t like this,” Alex said.

‘I know. Me neither. But you need to eat, I can tell you haven’t eaten all day,’ Michael instructed. Alex swallowed and lifted his head, looking up again.

Michael’s body was still frozen in place, empty of all thought apparently. Leaving him there was just something Alex wasn’t prepared or willing to do. He pushed himself to his feet carefully, ignoring Michael’s ‘whoa’ reaction. 

‘You’re tired,’ Michael said. Stating the obvious, loud enough for them both to hear.

“Yeah, I worked all day,” Alex said. Michael didn’t respond. “I’m laying you down.”

Alex walked over to Michael’s body, carefully reaching out and touching his cheek. He was still cold. He moved his thumb to rest under his nose. He wasn’t breathing. Alex gave a shuttered breath.

‘It’s just in stasis, it’s alright, don’t freak out. I’m still alive.’

“Don’t freak out,” Alex repeated with a scoff. 

Still, he was careful as ever as he put one hand on the back of Michael’s neck and the other on his waist. He made sure not to even accidentally bump the alien tech just in case that somehow made this horrific situation infinitely worse. He guided his body to the couch they’d placed in there, taking the brunt of his weight and not caring if his body ached in the process. It didn’t matter.

Michael was suspiciously silent through the entire thing, even as Alex brushed his hair back and pulled a blanket over him just in case. What if when he came to, he was still cold? That just wouldn’t do. He wanted to keep him as warm as possible.

“Can you feel hunger right now?” Alex asked after a long stretch of silence. He didn’t want Michael in his head, but he also didn’t really like the feeling of him being too silent for too long. At least while he was in his head, he knew where he was.

‘I can feel yours. It’s basically like I was just stuffed into your body. I bet I could control it if I tried.’ It was said in a rather intrigued tone, that of a scientist and nothing more. But it still shot a pang of panic through Alex’s system. He’d experienced not being in control of his body before and he wasn’t keen on a repeat, this time even more extreme. ‘Sorry.’

“Is that how you feel?” Alex asked carefully, his hand deceptively steady as he scraped off the vegetables onto a plate. They weren’t hot anymore. It was cool enough to touch the pan. “Like you’re trapped in my head?”

‘Well, don’t say it like that.’

“So, yes,” Alex said, bringing the plate to the table. He sat down and held his fork in his hand, staring at it. He wasn’t hungry anymore.

‘Alex. Eat.’

And he tried. Michael was quiet. He could tell he was still there, the buzzing of his thoughts still affecting Alex despite the fact that he was keeping them from overpowering Alex. It was almost impressive how quickly his thoughts were moving, constant unfettered thought process. He was suddenly hit with a memory of Michael, young and pretty and hiding so much from him, saying how loud and chaotic his thoughts were and how music helped quiet it.

The buzzing slowed for a moment.

‘Is that how you saw me?’ Michael’s voice asked him, curiosity in his tone more than anything else. Alex blinked. He was starting to feel a bit numb to the whole thing.

“So we can share memories,” Alex said bluntly, dread building in him and dissipating into his bloodstream. He couldn’t care about that. If he cared, he’d think more about things he didn’t want Michael to see and he would be loud about them.

He leaned into the numbness.

‘I’m going to fix this,’ Michael said with a newfound determination. A bitter smirk found Alex’s face. He wondered, not for the first time, about all the things that Michael didn’t want him to know.

“Okay.”

Alex finished half of the vegetables before putting them in the refrigerator and telling himself he was definitely going to eat them later. Similar to the way he was definitely going to get a water filter since he didn’t trust the water that came to the cabin but he didn’t want to just keep buying water bottles. Eventually, he would, hopefully.

Michael’s thoughts buzzed and Alex dragged himself back to the ladder down to the bunker. He was tired and his body ached and he really didn’t want to be climbing up and down the latter so many times. Couldn’t Michael accidentally discover this horrific thing on a day he didn’t have work?

‘Right, so, this is going to be a little bit weird because I can’t handle the tech myself. You’re just going to have to listen to what I say and try to do them to the best of your ability. Not saying that you aren’t as capable as me, I’d never say that, you’re so smart and good at everything you do. I actually saw your work the other day, that website you were coding for that little mom and pop shop in town and that was really impressive how quickly you can type. I didn’t know you did freelance work like that either, is that for extra money or for a hobby? I wonder how complicated it would be to set up a recording system with all your tech stuff, I can’t imagine it’d be‒

“Michael,” Alex said slowly, a headache already coming on. He suddenly had a new appreciation for Michael Guerin in his own body. It was beginning to feel like a miracle that he didn’t have panic attacks every day over his own overwhelming brain. “Slow down, keep focus.”

‘I’m focused, I am, sorry.’ It was a lie. Maybe that’s why he was good with his hands, he needed something to put his energy into. ‘My point was that it’s hard for me to explain what I’m doing with my hands, so I’m just gonna try and hope for the best.’

“I’ll try.”

‘And I trust you.’ There was a pause, though the buzzing never stopped. It honestly didn’t really stop when he was talking. That alone was a bit scary. Maybe they’d need to work on something to help his brain relax. 

“I trust you too,” Alex whispered. 

Michael guided him through different ways to handle the tech, correcting him here and there and doing his best not to get frustrated which Alex appreciated. He tried to hold onto it while Michael’s body was still holding it and he focused really hard, trying his damnedest to send Michael back. And Michael was trying to, giving all of his focus, but no matter how long he tried, nothing happened.

‘Try holding it by yourself.’

“What if we both just get sucked in and then we’re both catatonic?”

‘That won’t happen.’ There was a pause. ‘I think.’

Alex took a deep breath and just listened, carefully peeling Michael’s fingers off the tech. It was like taking something from a corpse which was. Unpleasant. And not the first time Alex had done that.

‘Alex.’ Michael’s voice was a warning and it’d be more helpful if Michael knew what he was warning him from. ‘I’m okay. I’m not dead.’

They were friends right now. They weren’t together, but they were friendly and Michael was welcome in his house. Sometimes, they hugged. Alex knew restraint and he knew how to wait for what he wanted. Even with all of that, he couldn’t help the way his stomach twisted and turned at the prospect of never touching him again. It would be endless taunting to have his voice in his head and yet nothing to be tactile with. Nothing to touch, nothing to feed, nothing to hold, nothing to be held by.

“I know,” Alex said, pushing those thoughts down deep and pulled the alien tech into his lap. If Michael heard any of his thoughts, he said nothing. 

‘Okay, do you see that thing in the top right that looks like a thumbprint?’ Michael asked. Alex scanned it and then nodded, going to reach for it. ‘No!’

“What? Why not?” Alex asked quietly, but he snatched his hand away.

‘Sorry, sorry. It’ll shock you if you don’t put your left thumb on it, but it has to be kept in the top right corner.’

“How does it know?” Alex asked.

‘Fuck if I know. Okay, put your left thumb on it and then put your right palm in the center.” Alex did as he was told. ‘Close your eyes and picture me being plucked out of your mind, through your arm, and into the piece.’

“What is this, some kind of meditation?”

‘Just bear with me.’

And Alex did. He pictured it over and over, plucking a tiny Michael out of his brain. When the first one didn’t work, he imagined different parts of his brain. Then he imagined the tiny Michael flailing like a Mii. Which really only messed up his focus because he started smiling at the idea.

‘This isn’t working,’ Michael sighed. It was weird that he could sigh in his brain. He wondered how that worked. Could he laugh in his brain? Alex couldn’t. ‘You’re distracted.’

“I’m sorry,” Alex said instantly, his spine straightening up a bit in response. He could feel the buzzing of Michael roar a bit louder.

‘It isn’t your fault. You’re tired‒I’m tired. Maybe we should go to sleep and try again in the morning.’ Michael suggested. Alex gulped softly, staring at the piece.

He wasn’t too keen on sleeping with Michael in his head. When he was awake, he could keep things quiet. He didn’t know what would happen if he went to sleep. Would Michael see his dreams? The idea in particular scared the shit out of him, more than even their current situation.

“What happens tomorrow, then? I have work. Don’t you?” Alex asked. 

‘Maybe we could call in. For me, just use my phone to text Sanders. Old man has the font on his phone ridiculously big and can still barely see it, so he just has my ringtone set so he’ll piece it together. It’s not even anything cool, it’s just one of the sparkly ones that come already downloaded into your phone. I do like that I have my own ringtone though. Does that make me weird? Do you think he’d be freaked out if he knew I liked it? Nah, he’s basically like my dad. Don’t tell him that, though, I think that’d make it weird. Well, he did want to adopt me, so maybe not that weird, but‒’

“Michael,” Alex cut in, lips parted a bit as he absorbed the few words that he could, “He wanted to adopt you?”

There was just buzzing for a while and then, ‘I thought I told you.’

“No, I would’ve remembered,” Alex whispered. 

‘Oh. Well. Yeah. Sorry.’

Alex swallowed and shifted, looking over to Michael’s body. He was still cold and not breathing and the whole thing was just more and more unsettling by the minute. So Alex took a deep breath and placed the piece on Michael’s stomach before standing up.

“I’ll call my superior in the morning and tell him I can’t make it,” Alex said. 

He sighed and closed his eyes. He typically found that as a comfort, as sealing himself in so it was just him. But that didn’t quite work with Michael in his brain. It was just as invasive. As much as he loved Michael with his entire being, it still made his skin crawl in a way he dreaded to admit.

‘In the morning, we’ll figure it out. And if we still are struggling, we’ll call in Liz. Oh! I bet Izzy could help if she could get into the mindscape.’

“No offense, but I barely like having you in my head. If we can avoid bringing your sister in that, that’d be great,” Alex said dryly, making his way to the latter. It looked much more intimidating than usual. God, he was tired.

‘Last resort.’ Michael promised.

Alex sighed and started to drag himself up the ladder. It took way more effort than he would ever willingly admit‒but he couldn’t even keep that to himself because Michael was in his head. He, presumably, could feel how much it was taking out of him. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything.

Alex took his time catching his breath as he moved to his bathroom, locking the door behind him on instinct, and then paused before he made another move. He needed to wash off, but he wasn’t keen on that with Michael in his head. He was comfortable with Michael seeing his body, yes, but… That was different.

“Michael?” Alex asked.

‘Oh, um, I’m sure there’s a way I can, like, turn off. Or something? Give me a minute.’

“Wait,” Alex said quickly, clutching the counter. His breathing labored a bit as his stomach churned and Michael’s buzzing amplified. “Don’t… Don’t turn off, that’ll freak me out, I don’t want you to go away until you’re in your body again.”

It was probably a horrible thing to say that he would regret, but also the idea of Michael going silent was suffocating and he couldn’t handle that on top of everything else.

‘Okay, I won’t.’ His voice was soft, earnest. It was debatably the first time he sounded like he actually understood what Alex needed from him. Alex didn’t want to think about that.

“Just… How do you see? Are you seeing through my eyes or is it some type of omnipotent, third-person type view or… I don’t know, I haven’t read enough sci-fi books on body sharing,” Alex said, pulling out the stool that was tucked underneath the counter. 

He sat down and put his hands on his thighs. He pushed down with each finger one at a time slowly, from his pinky on his left hand to his pinky on his right. He breathed in tandem.

‘I see through your eyes. Right now I see your hands, your sweatpants, your rug. I love that rug by the way, but I don’t know if you should have a fabric floor mat in the bathroom. That’s, like, a hub for mold and bacteria. Did you know that? They have rubber ones, do you think those would work? I’m going to get you one and see how you like it, I think it’d be good. Or, like, at least‒’

“Michael,” Alex sighed. He’d said his name more times today than he’d said probably ever before. He just thought so loud and so much. 

‘Sorry. But, yes, I see through your eyes.’

“Is there a way for you to not look?” Alex asked. Michael was quiet except the buzzing. “This is just… I don’t think…”

‘I don’t know, Alex. Let me see, okay? Give me a second, let me try.’ Michael sounded like he really would try, so Alex nodded and let him.

There was a stretch of silence with Alex doing nothing but pressing his fingers into his thighs, keeping himself calm and grounded. He didn’t try to rush as Michael fiddled around in his brain. He wasn’t really in a rush anyway. He wasn’t eager to go to sleep like this.

They kept on until Alex’s left hand stopped pressing into his thigh without his approval. Alex stopped breathing, staring at it and trying to move it. It wouldn’t.

“Michael,” he whispered, all that panic he’d subdued rising to the surface at alarming rates. It only worsened when his hand clenched into a fist on its own accord.

Alex made a noise between fear and shock, flinching away from himself. His throat closed in on itself and choked him and his head spun and tears pricked his eyes and he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t control his body and he couldn’t control his body and he couldn’t control his body and he couldn’t

‘Fuck! Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t know that‒Alex, Alex, breathe. Breathe, okay? Breathe. Move your hand, look, it’s yours, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ Michael rambled and Alex felt hot tears pour over his cheeks. He clenched his hands into fists over and over, making sure he could control them.

Alex’s breathing was ragged and he was shaking, but he watched his hands and tried to ignore Michael's rambling. He slowly moved his hands to the top of his head and looked at the pole that held his shower curtain. He counted each ring as effectively as he could, trying to catch his breath. Michael eventually caught on that his words weren’t helping.

They sat like that for‒for too long. Alex wasn’t sure how long it actually was, but it was enough that, by the time he could breathe again, he was too exhausted to think about showering. He still kept moving his hands, making sure he was able to.

“I don’t like that,” Alex said, voice smaller than he would’ve liked. Childish, honestly. Helpless and out of control and childish. 

‘I am so sorry. I didn’t realize that would happen, I was just trying to figure out where I could go. But, I… I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again.’ Michael was genuinely repentant. Later, Alex would feel embarrassed about the entire thing. Right now, he just wanted Michael in his own body. ‘I’m so sorry.’

“Is that how you feel?” Alex asked, swallowing softly, “Like you’re completely out of control? Like… like something is moving for you?”

Michael’s lack of response was response enough.

Alex laughed a wet laugh and sucked a deep breath in through his nose. Hands shaking, he turned towards the sink. He wet his toothbrush with hot water and put toothpaste on it and brushed his teeth the way he did every night. Michael stayed quiet.

He rinsed, spit, washed his face, took his anxiety medication, and told himself he’d try to shower in the morning. A few more grounding breaths later, he moved to his bedroom with a wet washcloth in his hand. Alex sniffled and sat on the edge of his bed, slowly removing his prosthetic. He was supposed to clean the sleeve, but he couldn’t right now. He instead wiped his stump with the washcloth and decided it would have to be good enough.

Alex pulled out his phone and checked to make sure all of his security alarms were on and he’d already known the doors were locked. Typically, he would’ve done another round, but he was tired and overwhelmed and wanted to get in bed. He shifted towards the top of his bed and climbed beneath the blankets, wrapping himself up tightly. The lights were still on. He’d turn them off in a minute.

“I’m sorry for freaking out,” Alex whispered after a solid two minutes of cocooning himself.

‘Don’t be. I’m sorry for this entire situation. It’s… super invasive.’

“You didn’t do it on purpose,” Alex murmured into his comforter, breathing as steadily as he could. In, out, in, out.

‘It’s unfair. I promise I’m going to fix this.’

“I believe you.” And Alex did believe him. He believed that Michael could do practically anything he set his mind to. That was the benefit of having a genius on hand.

This was just a particularly horrible situation that had Alex too nervous to think too loud.

‘You’re tired. Get some rest.’ Michael said, soft and sweet. For a fleeting moment, Alex wished he was here. ‘I wonder if my telekinesis works in your head. Do we even know if it’s physical or psychological? I don’t think we really do, or, like, not entirely. We gotta look into that as soon as I’m back in my body. Do you think I could turn the light out without making you get up? Do you mind if I try?’

Alex swallowed and clutched his blanket closer. When it was dark, it’d be even harder to fully conceptualize that Michael was in his head. When it was dark, he would hear him and it would be so easy to imagine he was just on the other side of the bed.

Still, he was right. Alex was tired. And the only way he was going to calm down was if he slept. That was easier said than done and he didn’t really want to sleep, but it was something he needed. He’d just have to play it by ear.

‘Please get some sleep, Alex.’ Michael sounded like he heard him. Perhaps he really did.

“I’ll try,” Alex said, “Try turning out the light.”

In theory, Alex did understand how the aliens used their powers. It was an intense and beautiful thing and Alex could watch Michael do it for hours. Feeling it, however, was something different. Michael focused on the light switch and Alex was all but lit up from the inside. His lips parted and the barrier in his mind he used to keep Michael out of his private thoughts seemed to shatter as they melded for a moment, too quickly to really learn anything and yet long enough to feel akin to the way he did when Michael whispered his closest secrets minutes after sex. Too intimate. Too close. Too much.

The light was off and the feeling died and the barrier returned. Michael went to his side of the brain and Alex took shaky breaths, tugging the blanket tighter around him. At least the feeling of sheer panic had subsided. Instead, blinding embarrassment and foggy pleasure and a massive amount of fatigue had filled his entire brain. Because of a fucking light switch.

‘My bad.’ Michael said, his voice warm enough to be a verbal hug.

Alex breathed in, curling up beneath his blanket and holding it to his nose. He wanted Michael so badly, more than he had in a while. Which was saying something because he typically wanted him a lot.

“You feel like that every time you use your telekinesis?” Alex asked softly. If he let his mind drift enough, he could imagine idle fingers on his hips, a foot rubbing against his calf, a pair of lips on his neck. Even then it was nothing more than phantom desires, once he hoped were too quiet for Michael to hear.

He was a little too convinced that they weren’t and yet Michael didn’t mention it.

‘No. I guess because it’s, like, through a different conduit‒not saying you’re just a conduit, but, you know, my body is built to do that stuff and yours isn’t. So it’s kinda like immediately lifting 50lbs when you’ve never lifted weights before. Deceivingly easy and then it’s not, like that took a lot of effort on my part and it’s not my body. And then‒there’s two of us, so it’s different. I kinda for a minute felt like we were bumping brains. Did that hurt? I didn’t feel any pain, but I don’t know how this works. I bet that drained you, though, you feel more fatigued. I won’t do it again. Are you okay? Talk to me.’

“Lifting too much weight doesn’t feel like that,” Alex whispered, eyes drifting closed. He was tired. So tired that he was almost a little angry that he wouldn’t be able to stay up long enough to keep his dreams away from Michael.

Michael hummed softly, amused.

‘Can you try something for me?’ he asked, soft and sweet and coaxing. A drastic tonal shift from where he’d been just a moment ago, from where he’d been for months. ‘Try talking to me in your head so you don’t have to keep talking out loud, I know that gets exhausting. Let’s see what it sounds like.’

In a different world, a different time, Michael would’ve called him baby somewhere in there. Sometimes Alex listened to him talk and could hear where he should’ve called him baby. He hadn’t heard it in so long. God, he needed to get rid of these thoughts.

‘It was draining and I’m tired,’ Alex tried, like an internal monologue but with more intent. Here is where Michael would smile at him, lean close, touch him somewhere just because he wanted to. Because he could. When was the last time Michael touched him simply because he could? Had it been a year now? More?

‘You’re thinking a lot of stuff I can’t hear. You okay?’ Michael asked.

“Does it sound like buzzing?” Alex murmured, “Yours sounds like buzzing.”

‘Yeah, a little. You don’t like the in-brain talking?’

“Might make it difficult to keep the stuff I don’t want you to hear away from you,” Alex said simply, “It’s hard enough.”

‘Fair.’ Michael was quiet for a moment, the buzzing still there. 

Maybe they would wake up in the morning and this would all be fixed. Maybe this was a bad dream that would just force Alex to appreciate Michael’s existence.

But that would be fucking stupid because he already appreciated Michael’s existence. It was Michael who didn’t want him, not the way he wanted. Not the way they used to be.

Alex’s eyes slid open, suddenly not as willing to go to sleep. He was exhausted and wasn’t sure he would be able to get up in the morning if he didn’t sleep, but he didn’t want to. There was a chance that he would sleep and Michael would see things he shouldn’t and it wouldn’t change anything other than their already fragile relationship.

He couldn’t even keep his thoughts straight at this point.

‘Alex, you need to go to sleep. We’re tired.’

Alex didn’t respond, just staring at a fixed point on the wall. He shouldn’t have let him turn the lights off. The longer he forced himself to stay awake, the more the good feelings from his power faded and the more the bad ones from earlier in the night amplified.

Alex stayed awake as long as he could, fought off the fatigue, ran off the adrenaline from his anxiety.

Still, none of it was a match for how drained he was in every sense of the word.

-

“What are you talking about? What are you doing?”

Alex was laid on a bed of some kind, trying to fight them off. They were all faceless until they weren’t. Light would shift and he would catch angry, hateful, sorrowful, and clinical stares. They ignored his questions as they strapped him to the bed.

He was shirtless, pantsless, bare, and exposed. His ankles were held down by more straps. The people around him ignored him as he started to panic. They were all wearing black and white, all in habits and priest attire. Where was he? What was going on? What were they doing?

“Please, Father, help this young boy,” one of them said. A nun, the one who looked like she wanted to cry. Like maybe she felt bad. If she did, she didn’t do anything to help him. “Please.”

“Step back. We don’t know what this thing will do.”

The one who held his hand slipped away and Alex tried to keep himself calm. 

If you’re good, they’ll let you go. If you’re good, they’ll let you go. Just be good. Just be good. You can be good.

Alex locked eyes with the priest who stood over him. He made a face, one of disgust. One of ‘how dare you think you’re allowed to look at me’ and Alex never broke eye contact. 

He spoke in a different language and began to circle Alex’s body. It started off stupid: just recitations and throwing water on him. It was cold and Alex would flinch, but beyond that he didn’t do anything. This seemed to piss off the man more and he took a step to the side to speak with the other patrons. While he was doing that, Alex started to try and wiggle out of the restraints.

Before he knew it, though, they were back. The water they threw on him this time was hot. Flicks and droplets of scalding water, enough to make him gasp and enough to make him want to try to fight the restraints more. On his chest, on his thighs, on his legs, on his arms, on his face. It burned.

He kept it in for as long as he could, kept quiet, kept obedient, tried to be good. But it hurt. He screamed at them, please, please, please. 

“It’s working.”

It seemed like it went on for days, hours. Alex laid there until he couldn’t cry anymore. He laid there until he was starving so much he felt nauseous. He laid there until every inch of him hurt in some way. He laid there when they pressed heated crosses into his arm. He laid there and let them brand him.

He laid there.

He laid there and he didn’t lose control.

He was going to be good.

-

Alex woke up with a start, gasping and clutching the sheets.

It was dark still. His dream was… not one he’d had before. Mindless, he checked his body the places his dream had said he’d been burned. It felt real. He checked his arms for crosses, rucked up his shirt to see splash marks from boiling holy water, felt his face to see if there were any sensitive spots. It took him three checks to realize it was the wrong body.

The cross brand that had faded over the years was rather inconspicuous on a man full of scars, but Alex had felt it. The parts of his body that took him a while to not flinch away from when Alex tried to touch made more sense. He just… didn’t think it was because of this.

‘I’m sorry.’ Michael’s voice was soft and nervous. Alex felt residual anxiety on top of the pre-existing bullshit from the dream itself. 

“Michael,” Alex said because that’s all he could say, “Michael.”

‘Go back to sleep,’ Michael tried, ‘I’ll do better this time.’

Alex caught his breath and tightened his hold on his sheets. He wanted to curl up into his chest, to tell him sweet nothings. To touch and be touched because that was safe. Whatever he’d just dreamed was not safe. Having an empty Michael-suit in his basement was not safe.

Still, he slowly coaxed himself back to lay down. He was tired still and that dream had robbed him of any sense of being rested. And it was still dark.

‘Please go back to sleep. It’ll be okay. I’m sorry.’

“I’m sorry too.”

-

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Dohman said, getting too close to Alex’s face. He would never understand why men who took homosexuality as their enemy number one decided to get nose to nose with other men when they were angry. It would be funny if it wasn’t the actual worst.

“Look, Dohman, you’re not my fucking type, get over it,” Alex said, shoving him back. That was his first wrong step, but what was he supposed to do? Let it happen? “I like men, not whatever the fuck you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dohman asked, his eyebrows tugging together further and his face turning a deeper shade of rage red.

“What‒are you upset? Aw, do you have a crush on me?”

Dohman threw the first punch and Alex managed to dodge it, throwing the second one. There were a few more, a blur of them, before he was hit in the nose and stumbled back. He stumbled straight into a different room, a kitchen.

“Alex. You’re late.”

The voice was one that instilled fear deep within Alex and he stood up a little straighter. His father sat at the head of the table, staring at him like he expected him to be late. Alex took a deep breath and went to sit at the table.

“I’m sorry, what do you think you’re doing?” he asked. Alex blinked.

“Sitting.”

“Did I say you could sit? You’re late. You missed curfew. Do I need to remind you what happens when you miss curfew?” he asked. Alex shook his head.

“No, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

Alex held his breath as he stood up straight and went to the corner of the kitchen. He knelt down, his face towards the wall, and held his arms up. If he slumped or his arms wavered or if he sat on his feet, he would get an extra two hours. So he didn’t let that happen.

Alex listened to his father eat dinner. Listened to him put his dishes in the sink. Listened to him go into the living room and turn on the TV. He always wondered if he forgot about him, but he knew he couldn’t get up without consequences.

So Alex stayed.

And Alex didn’t slump.

He was going to be good.

-

When Alex woke up this time, the sun was still hidden away.

This one was less shocking, less jarring, more standard. Still, he curled up in bed and rubbed his knees mindlessly. Michael’s buzzing was there, but he didn’t say any words. Alex was almost thankful for it. He was embarrassed and still tired.

As his alarm went off to tell him to get up and get ready for work at the bright and early time of 4 AM, Alex turned it off and instead called the base. He made up an excuse about a stomach bug and how he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk giving it to anyone else and didn’t he have sick days built up? His superior agreed, told him to get some rest, and promised to see him when he was better.

Alex dropped his phone.

‘It was much sexier sleeping next to you when we didn’t share dreams.’ Michael sounded tired somehow. How did that work? Michael had probably already thought about that question a million times over.

“Yeah, it was,” Alex agreed.

He laid in bed for a few extra minutes before deciding he wasn’t going to get any more sleep. Whenever Michael left his brain, he was going to be taking a trazodone and he was going to knock into a relatively dreamless sleep for 12 hours. He at least had that to look forward to.

Alex climbed out of bed and reached for his crutches. When he got upright, it made it just that much more prevalent how tired his body was. This whole thing was draining and exhausting. His leg was sore, his head hurt, his stomach felt like he’d gotten a rather extensive core workout.

He spent his morning going through his regular routine, only this time with mindless Michael commentary. Alex had definitely understood Michael had a rather busy thought process and he struggled with silence, but he hadn’t realized how much. It was almost concerning.

Still, he listened and brushed his teeth, listened and washed his face, listened and took his meds, listened and put his prosthetic on, forced himself to eat breakfast, etc, etc, etc. Midway through his third cup of coffee, Alex started making his way down to the bunker. He held the mug between his teeth and focused on the ladder instead of Michael’s rambling.

When he looked at Michael’s body, it was exactly the way he left it. Alex walked over slowly and put his hand on his bicep, massaging it carefully and making sure it wasn’t getting stiff. He looked dead, he didn’t want him to feel dead.

Michael in his mind, however, went actually silent for a moment. Even the buzzing stopped.

‘What are you doing?’ Michael asked carefully.

“Sorry, I won’t touch you,” Alex said, taking his hand away. His eyes were harder to remove.

‘You can.’ He was speaking slowly, the buzzing returning at an all-time loud. ‘I just… didn’t think you would want to touch me. That’s pretty gross. Haven’t bathed.’

“Neither have I,” Alex said simply, “I pretty much always want to touch you.”

The buzzing, somehow, amplified. 

Alex squeezed his eyes shut in response, the headache he had worsening because of it. Michael hadn’t mentioned the headache and Alex was beginning to wonder if he just always had a headache and that’s why it wasn’t phasing him. It would make sense if his brain was really that full all the time.

Instead of thinking too much about that, Alex took a big sip of his coffee and then sat it on the table.

“Alright, let’s get to work.”

The two of them got to work brainstorming which was much easier than it would’ve been if Michael was on the outside because Michael’s ideas that were hard to verbalize came across to Alex in concepts. Well‒easier in theory because Alex only had so much knowledge within Michael’s specialty.

But, nonetheless, they worked. And they worked. And hours went by and Michael was still stuck in his head and no matter how hard they worked, nothing happened.

By lunchtime, Alex was exhausted all over again and he was beginning to feel more than a bit frustrated. He just wanted Michael in his own body. Why couldn’t the universe just give him that one thing? That should be an easy fucking request.

“I hate this piece of shit,” Alex grumbled, carefully setting the alien tech down instead of throwing it across the room because that would presumably be very bad. He tilted his head back from where he was sitting on the floor by the couch, the back of his head resting against Michael’s thigh.

‘Maybe we should call Liz,’ Michael in his head suggested, not mentioning a single thing about where his head was. Alex’s hands rested carefully on his own thighs, pressing down each finger one at a time starting from his left pinky all the way to his right. This was fine.

“What do I say? That I accidentally robbed you of your subconscious and that you’re stuck in my brain and she’s basically lost her science partner because he’s in my fucking head and I’m not him and I’m useless and‒”

‘Alex,’ Michael said softly, in the same way Alex had said his name when he got to rambling, ‘You’re not useless. And this isn’t your fault. It’s not one’s fault, we didn’t know this was going to happen. So let’s just call her and see if she can come help.’

Alex breathed in deep and nodded slowly. He sat there unmoving for a moment after that. Michael’s buzzing was incessant and it was very clearly worried. It gave off the same energy that Michael had so many times before, just much different because it was in Alex’s head rather than on Michael’s face.

“I wish you could hug me,” Alex said softly. It felt like a simple, easy statement all things considered. Michael’s worried buzzing tapered off just a little.

‘I wish I could too.’

And they sat there, taking a break before they called Liz. She wasn’t in California anymore, having come back because there was just something about Roswell that refused to let you fucking leave. Or she missed her dad and her sister. One of the two options. So, at least they had that going for them.

Alex pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts and found Liz Ortecho sitting in his short list of 25 contacts. He hadn’t actually spoken to her in a while, not over the phone and not just the two of them. Once upon a time it would’ve upset him, but they were adults and they hadn’t been each other’s first priorities in a very long time. Alex wasn’t sure he’d ever been hers. But that was fine too because that’s what friendship was sometimes.

“Alex?” Liz answered like she was extremely confused to see him calling. Alex huffed a laugh despite nothing about his situation being funny. Not in the fucking slightest.

“So, I have a little situation that I don’t feel comfortable telling you over the phone,” Alex said. He knew she was rather easygoing about what she shared over the phone, but he wasn’t as trusting. Hell, he barely liked having his phone on him when he was doing things like this at all even with all of his protective shit on it. He knew how easy it was to be tracked, to be listened to. The only one who took his concerns seriously was Michael and Kyle. “Can you be at the cabin in less than an hour?”

“...what cabin?”

Alex sighed, “The old Valenti hunting cabin? Come on, I know you and Kyle probably hooked up here a lot when we were in high school.”

“Oh. Okay. Yeah. I’ll be there. Should I bring anything?”

“Kyle.”

“Got it.”

Alex sighed as the call ended and dropped his phone. His eyes drifted over to Michael’s body, still and cold and catatonic. He reached out for his hand mindlessly and started to massage it carefully, working into all the muscles he knew still got sore on bad days. Not like they were sore now.

‘You don’t have to do this,’ Michael said, ‘You don’t have to…’

There was an implication, one that was rather insulting if Alex was asked. He never allowed his feelings to go unknown, not since his rather embarrassing display at the Wild Pony. It was Michael who needed to catch up; Alex hadn’t been hiding it.

“Do you want me to stop?” Alex asked again.

‘No,’ he said, ‘I just hate that I can’t feel it.’

“You will when you get back. You’ll be able to feel it then,” Alex said, a quiet promise that he would continue. He hoped that was good enough for Michael to understand.

They sat, waiting for Liz to show up and staying as calm as they physically could. Alex considered crawling beside him more than once but he felt that would just be too much. Too much whatever. Alex waited until he felt as at peace as he physically could be.

“Michael,” Alex called, “How did you take over my hand last night? You tried to explain it but I didn’t really understand.”

‘Basically, from my understanding, I just connected those parts of my psyche to your arm. Like when you’re laying in bed and you need to get up and so your brain tells your body to move. Like that, I guess, and I guess it was enough to take over yours.’

Alex blinked and breathed steadily, rolling his shoulders back and steeling himself.

“Try again,” Alex suggested.

‘What? No. No, I’m not doing that. You didn’t like that, I’m not doing that to you again.’

“You’re cooped up in my brain. Don’t you want to stretch out? I feel guilty that you’re trapped there. As long as you don’t take over my whole body and I know what you’re going to do, I think I’ll be okay,” Alex urged. Michael didn’t say anything right away. “I just feel bad. Just tell me what you’re going to do before you do it, okay?”

‘Are you sure?’

Alex nodded and kept his breaths steady, waiting for the moment Michael would decide to act. Maybe this was stupid and maybe he’d freak out again, but…

‘Okay, it’s gonna be your left arm, elbow down.’ Alex kept his breathing steady and used his right hand to continue holding onto Michael’s. He wasn’t clutching back and that made it feel a bit hollow, but that was alright. Michael was in him. One day when this was over, he’d probably make a joke about it. ‘Okay, ready?’

“Ready,” Alex agreed.

He swallowed as he felt his arm go numb and tingly as Michael took over. He kept his breathing even and held onto his hand and watched as Michael moved his fingers carefully, just stretching them around.

‘I’m gonna raise it, alright?’

“Alright.”

‘You’re doing so good, thank you for this.’

Alex nodded as watched as his hand rose and his wrist rolled. He could feel a bit of panic edging in him, but he held out. Michael used Alex’s thumb to trace each finger on his hand.

‘Can I touch you?’ Michael asked. Alex took a shaky breath and nodded again, not really trusting his voice. This whole thing was weird and slightly terrifying and slightly exhilarating at the same time. He’d never felt something quite like this before. He was pretty sure not many had. ‘Okay.’

His hand moved to his face, gently tracing over his nose and his cheek. Alex’s lips twitched and let out a heavy breath. Michael guided his hand over his jaw and to his neck, sliding over his shoulder and down his arm until he got to where Alex was holding Michael’s body’s hand. The hand Michael was controlling layered over them, squeezing the hand Alex still had.

‘Squeeze back,’ Michael requested. Alex did. It must’ve looked insane that he was just holding his own hand, but his heart was thudding in his chest at the reality of it.

“You know we’ve never held hands,” Alex pointed out, “Not for real.”

‘Yeah,’ Michael said softly, ‘We’re gonna.’

“We’re gonna?” Alex wondered, watching as the thumb Michael was controlling rubbed against the back of the hand he could feel.

‘We’re gonna. This doesn’t count.’

“Okay.”

Alex startled as his phone went off, alerting him that someone was within a half-mile of the cabin. Slowly, feeling came back to his hand and Michael was no longer in control of it. Alex took a few breaths to reset himself before putting Michael’s hand back on his side.

“We should go upstairs,” Alex said.

‘Do you feel okay?’

“Yeah,” Alex said even though he knew Michael could literally feel him. It was nice that he asked nonetheless. 

Alex pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his empty mug before going to climb the ladder again. He needed to put stairs in or something because this was just getting annoying.

‘I’ll build you stairs,’ Michael offered. Alex tried not to get that warm and fuzzy feeling in response to that because this was very much not the time.

“Not necessary.”

‘I’m gonna.’

They got up to the cabin and Alex walked over to the kitchen, rinsing out his mug. He stared at the coffee maker for a few seconds before he reached over and dumped the grinds out and rinsed the mesh. Michael rambled about coffee grinds being good for compost or something and Alex nodded along, agreeing to wherever his train of thought was headed. He started another pot and then waited.

By the time Liz and Kyle showed up, Alex had already poured himself another cup and went to unlock the door. If he looked like he hadn’t slept (which he knew he did), they didn’t say anything as he let them in. Kyle did, however, reach to give him a short hug because they did that now. Alex still thought it was a little weird, but he appreciated the effort and sometimes he actively wanted the affection.

“So, what’s going on? Is Michael here? Because if not, you should’ve had me bring him,” Liz said. Alex huffed a laugh.

“Yeah, he’s definitely present,” he said. It wasn’t funny. Michael seemed amused anyway. “There’s no point in me beating around the bush or anything, so basically Michael fucked with a piece of tech, got stuck in it, and when I touched it he got stuck in my head.”

They stared at him.

“Like… you can’t stop thinking about him stuck or…” Liz trailed off. Alex snorted.

“No, like his entire psyche is currently existing in my head. He says hi and to tell you your haircut looks nice,” Alex said. He didn’t notice she even got a haircut. Their eyes widened. “We’ve messed around with the piece for hours and nothing is working, so we called you over.”

“Okay, um,” Liz breathed, nodding her head, “Yeah, absolutely. Just, like, give me a minute. This is insane. He’s really in your head? Where’s his body?”

“Downstairs. And, yeah, he’s really in my head,” Alex said. 

A warm feeling started to burn in Alex’s stomach, one that he was rather certain didn’t belong to him. It still took him a minute to realize it was Michael’s and that was… a lot. Apparently, every other feeling of his Alex had felt was one they were sharing at the same time. Good to know that they were both guilty and existential as hell.

“Okay. Wow. Right. I’m going downstairs. I wish you would’ve warned me! I could’ve brought some more stuff,” Liz said as if she didn’t have a backpack full of things already. She headed down the ladder with no hesitation.

“And you’re okay?” Kyle asked, keeping his voice low. His eyebrows were pulled together in concern as he searched Alex’s face. “That’s like a major invasion of privacy. Are you sure he didn’t do this on purpose?”

‘Dude, what the fuck.’

Alex snorted, “You know he can hear you, right?”

Kyle blinked a few times and then very clearly decided he didn’t care because he eyed him very deliberately.

“Tell me if you need anything. I’ll get you some sedatives or whatever if we can’t figure this out because I know you haven’t slept,” Kyle said, squeezing his arm. Alex nodded in appreciation, but they both knew he wouldn’t be accepting anything. “Coffee fresh?”

“Yep, just brewed it.”

“And you’ve eaten lunch?”

“I will,” Alex said. Kyle raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. “I will!”

“I’ll make you some toast and meet you down there with Liz,” Kyle decided and then headed into the kitchen. Alex rolled his eyes, but he listened without argument.

‘It still freaks me out how close you two are. It’s so weird. He’s still so punchable.’ 

“His jaws way more chiseled now, though, so it might hurt,” Alex pointed out, his words muffled around his coffee mug as he carefully made his way down the ladder.

“Huh?” Liz answered.

“Was talking to Michael,” Alex said and chose not to be embarrassed by it as he hit the floor. If he was, that would just be more than he could physically handle right now.

“Oh. Okay. Right,” Liz said, blinking as she stood up straighter, “Sorry, this is just so weird.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty weird for me too,” Alex said.

His eyes drifted to Michael’s body where Liz had clearly already gotten started. She was questionably comfortable with his body, having already taken a blood sample and written down his current state in detail in her notebook. Sometimes she worried Alex with this whole thing, but Michael didn’t seem to have any arguments.

‘She’s basically like my best friend after you. We’ve done a million experiments on each other, so I don’t really care what she does to me,’ Michael explained anyway. Alex nodded and let him continue to think about what she was going to do. He could tell this was going to be rather exhausting having to play translator, but he supposed it was worth it.

“Okay, so, he’s stable. It’s obviously a different kind of stasis than the pod, but he is in stasis. I checked his blood under his microscope and all of his blood cells are basically frozen in time. Oh, I need to check his hair and his skin cells. This is insane,” Liz rambled. Alex could feel Michael’s residual excitement start to build in his body. He almost felt bad he couldn’t enjoy this with her.

For Michael’s benefit, even though it made him uncomfortable, Alex looked under the microscope at the frozen cells. His skin cells were equally frozen and his hair‒well, his hair looked like all hair does, but Michael seemed to think it looked different and he would just accept that.

Liz picked up the piece and marveled at it for a moment, grinning wildly. Alex felt himself doing the same solely based on Michael’s emotions which was, honestly, too much. He tried not to think about it too much. If he didn’t, he wasn’t sure anything would get done.

Alex very quickly realized that he couldn’t keep up with Michael’s thoughts and his headache was strengthening by the second even after he ate the toast Kyle decided to force-feed him. He, however, kept that to a minimum and tried to carry a conversation with Liz by repeating Michael. He made it a good thirty minutes before he hit a point where he wasn’t making sense due to Michael’s brain saying three different things while Alex was talking.

“Okay, wait, stop,” Alex said, dropping his head in his hand. It was throbbing and Michael hadn’t said anything. “What the fuck, does your head hurt all the time?”

‘More times than not, yeah,’ Michael answered. Alex shook his head and rubbed his temples. ‘I’m sorry. Do you have medicine? Nothing usually works on me outside of acetone and that only dulls it. I’m sure something works on you, though, right? Do you have ibuprofen? I know you have Tylenol upstairs in the bathroom, but I’m not sure if that would work and maybe it’d make you tired and you’re already tired enough which would make things a little bit more difficult since we’re trying to‒’

“Michael. Please,” Alex whispered. He stopped rambling where Alex could hear, but the buzzing never stopped. Liz and Kyle, on the other hand, were silent. “Kyle, can you go get my Aleve from upstairs?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Kyle said, his footsteps rather quickly heading up the ladder.

Alex sat there for a moment, rubbing his temples and breathing. This time, he could feel the separation from his own guilt and nerves and Michael’s guilt and nerves and he could feel where they blended. He needed a fucking nap.

“Alex, do you need a break?” Liz asked. Alex huffed a laugh.

“Are you going to figure it without me translating for him?” he asked. Liz didn’t answer and that was answer enough. 

Alex took a deep breath and lowered himself to the floor beside the couch. He could feel the guilty, yet restless energy burning within him that all belonged to Michael. He wished he was out and so he could watch him ramble, watch him pace, just watch. 

‘What can I do?’ Michael asked. 

“Nothing,” Alex responded. Liz, by now, caught on that he was simply talking to himself.

Kyle returned with a glass of water and a doctor-approved tweak of Aleve. Alex took it graciously, downed the rest of the water, and then returned his head to his hands.

They’d barely made any progress, namely because they didn’t know where to start other than the piece which Alex and Michael had already worked with. Alex, under Michael’s instruction, had gotten out the other pieces in hopes that would solve the problem, but that hadn’t made a difference.

Maybe they were stuck like this.

‘We aren’t stuck,’ Michael said, ‘I’m getting my body back.’

Alex felt when his breath hitched and felt when tears pricked his eyes. He brought his knee in closer and bowed his head against it so he could at least pretend he wasn’t losing it. But he was. He was overwhelmed and fucking terrified and he wanted Michael.

‘Alex,’ Michael said, ‘If anyone can figure this out, it’s us, alright? Just take a breath and I’ll try to dial it back. I’m sorry.’

‘You shouldn’t have to apologize for just existing as yourself. This just isn’t fair,’ Alex thought back at him, not really eager to let Kyle and Liz in on their conversation. Part of him was still scared this would make it harder to keep his thoughts to himself, but, after their dreams, he was beginning to feel like it didn’t matter.

‘It’s not fair. Not at all. But maybe there’s a reason for it? Like, why would this exist if there wasn’t a reason for it, you know? Why would they make it if it was just a torture mechanism?’ Michael asked. Alex bit the inside of his cheek. ‘I’m trying to think of what use this could have.’

‘Couples therapy?’ Alex offered. Michael’s amusement lit him up for a moment, a silent acknowledgment that he’d probably laugh if he had a body to do it with. ‘Missions, maybe? Or coaching. It’s an effective communication device.’

‘Maybe when they were coming here they only had space for so many people, so they had some people leave their body on their planet,’ Michael suggested.

‘Maybe. We probably won’t ever know. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay,’ Michael said, but they were both keenly aware that it wasn’t actually okay that they knew so little, ‘I just need to get back into my own body.’

“What’s the next step?” Alex asked.

‘Give us the rest of the day to try and figure this out and, if not, then we might have to call Isobel in,’ Michael said at the same time Liz responded with, “I think we should keep trying and if we can’t figure it out by tonight, we get Max and Isobel to see if they can think of anything.”

Alex huffed a laugh and raised his head.

“Okay. Let’s keep trying.”

-

Hours later, Alex found himself in his bathroom again. This time he was a little more determined to actually bathe. He felt gross and just needed something to make him feel better. The food and medicine Kyle gave him only helped so much and their constant stream of failures didn’t make any of it better.

Kyle and Liz with apologetic faces, but they had a clear determination to want to continue trying to figure it out. However, the four of them agreed to bring in Isobel and Max because this very clearly was going to need some more alien reinforcement.

“I’m really not looking forward to Isobel being in my head,” Alex sighed, leaning over to turn on the faucet. He felt until the water was hot before plugging the drain and sat himself down on his stool to wait for the tub to fill.

‘I know, but I’m hoping she’ll be able to see something we can’t. We aren’t really in a mindscape right now. Maybe she’ll see a way to put me back,’ Michael encouraged. Alex sighed and unbuttoned his jeans.

“I get why we need her, I just don’t know what I’m going to have control over. And, no offense, but I don’t really trust Isobel to be respectful or quiet about anything she does see,” Alex admitted. Michael’s instant understanding and agreement was palpable.

‘I’ll try to make sure she keeps it to herself. She’s getting better,’ Michael said. Alex sighed and hoped he was right.

Alex pulled off his jeans and tossed them into his hamper and went to his prosthetic. Thinking about his hesitation from last night almost felt ridiculous‒as if Michael would say anything about him bathing‒but he knew the circumstances tonight were a little different. He felt different.

Once his prosthetic was removed completely, he put it outside the bathroom door and then closed it. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed that with his jeans and then closed his eyes. His head still hurt and he was exhausted, but he needed to bathe. He was gross. Michael, for his part, stayed quiet for the first time since that morning. It was honestly a blessing though he felt guilty about it.

The bathtub got to where Alex wanted it and he shut off the water, moved to take off his boxers. He threw them alongside his other clothes and then skillfully moved himself onto the ledge of the tub. Alex swiveled around and put his foot in the bath before slowly lowering himself in. He could feel his muscles instantly reacting to the warm water. He needed this.

Alex sunk into the water until it touched his chin and closed his eyes, reveling in the warmth of it. There was something endlessly lonely about having someone you love stuck in your brain and not being able to touch them. It was cruel, almost.

Michael’s buzzing seemed to calm a bit as they sat there in nothing but the hot water and each other’s company. Alex had imagined bathing with him more than once and never had it crossed his mind that the first time he would get the chance, Michael’s body wouldn’t be there to experience it. They were having too many firsts this way.

All of them led right back to being too close, too much, too aware. He hated it and yet he had never felt more seen by Michael Guerin in his entire life.

Cruel and laughable.

‘Alex,’ Michael said, soft and warm like he had late the night before, ‘Can I use your hand? The same one as earlier. I just… wanna try something.’

Alex’s heart picked up speed in the same way it had when he held his hand and he nodded without hesitation.

His left arm tingled and then went numb as Michael took over. The hand Michael was in control of glided across the top of the water and then rested over his heart. He rubbed his hand into his skin, slowly making his way up to his neck and over his jaw. Michael felt over his features again, only this time focusing on his lips.

His thumb pressed into Alex’s bottom lip and slowly dragged his mouth open. Alex huffed a laugh and opened it further, letting Michael press the pad of his thumb against his tongue. Alex bit down gently and felt a burst of adoration flood through him. It stole his breath for a moment.

Michael pulled out of his mouth slowly and slid back down to his chest and then to the arm Alex still had control over. He felt over his bicep and his forearm, feeling each muscle as if they were something to behold on their own which really only had Alex’s picking up speed.

‘Why have I never taken my time with you before?’ Michael asked. They both knew. Neither of them said anything.

Alex tilted his head back and closed his eyes as Michael’s fingers dragged over his neck and then dipped beneath the water. He traced over his chest and his stomach, slow and curious despite the familiarity of it. Michael touched his thigh and dragged his fingertips up and down before sliding between his thighs.

Alex caught his wrist and Michael obediently paused.

“Michael,” Alex whispered, his breathing noticeably heavier as he tried his damnedest to ignore the tight, warm feeling in his stomach, “Michael.”

‘Yeah?’

“What happens if we can’t figure it out?” Alex asked,  “What happens if you’re stuck?”

‘Don’t think like that,’ Michael answered.

“We have to think like that. Eventually, we’re going to have to go back to work, eventually, we’re going to have to pretend to carry on. What happens if you’re still stuck in my head?” Alex demanded.

‘Don’t think like that,’ Michael repeated, ‘It won’t come to that. We will fix it.’

“But what if we can’t?”

‘Alex, listen to me. No matter what happens, I won’t be stuck in your head for the rest of your life. This is temporary regardless of what that means for me. I’m not making your life miserable.’ 

Alex breathed out like he’d been hit. He didn’t ask what that meant. He didn’t ask how long Michael was willing to try. He didn’t ask anything.

“I miss you,” Alex breathed, “I want… I want‒”

‘I know. Me too.’

They sat there for a moment with that and Alex wanted to say he loved him, just in case. But they had time. They had to have time. 

And he didn’t want any more firsts this way.

Alex let go of his wrist and Michael’s hand rested on his legs. He let his eyes close again and tried to relax as Michael moved again. Alex almost expected him to reach between his thighs again, and yet Michael just rested his hand on his face. 

Michael cradled his jaw in his hand and rubbed his thumb over his cheek slow and methodically. Alex squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into the touch. If he kept his eyes closed and if he focused hard enough, he could almost feel his breath on the back of his neck.

‘I’m here. I’ve got you.’

-

Alex woke up long before his alarm again.

Dreams of angry foster parents bled into dreams of angry drill sergeants bled into active battle bled into his father with any object he could get his hand on. It was miserable and Alex had to wonder why they couldn’t have a nice dream. Just one. On where Alex could pretend to touch him again and he’d be warm.

Despite having Michael in his head, Alex couldn’t help but feel even more lonely than he had when he climbed into bed. They’d tried to shut off the lights with his telekinesis again before bed and it was a little more painful than the first time and Michael vowed not to use it again and he’d gone quiet. And Alex was lonely.

“You know what’s crazy? It’s only been, like, 36 hours. Why does it feel so much longer?” Alex whispered, voice deep from sleep. 

‘Because it has been longer. I was practically living in your house and yet I didn’t do anything. I wasted so much time,’ Michael said. Alex wanted to argue, but he found himself not having much to add. They had wasted so much time and now they weren’t even sure what time they would have.

“Me too.”

‘No, Alex, you’ve known what you wanted for a year now at least. You’ve made it clear. I kept trying to wait for, like, a moment when it felt right. And I’m beginning to think it just never felt right because I wasn’t with you. Self-defeating cycle or whatever,’ Michael said, very clearly annoyed in the emotions that filled him. 

“You’re allowed to take your time.”

‘But I was never going to be perfectly ready. I’m always going to struggle. But I could’ve had you. God, I was so lonely and you were right there.’

“I’m here now,” Alex whispered. Michael’s self-deprecation was louder than Alex was willing to take.

He laid in bed for a few seconds longer before he got up and reached for his crutches. He was lonely. Michael was lonely. This was so stupid and ridiculous and he hated every goddamn thing about it. He just wanted him back. Was that such a hard request?

Clearly, it was. The universe didn’t want them to have anything.

Alex made his way to the bunker and ignored the worry Michael was experiencing as he slid his crutches down the ladder. He made sure they landed out of the way before heading down himself, hopping down one rung at a time while having his arms carry the brunt of his weight. Michael managed not to say anything.

Once he hit the ground, Alex picked up his crutches again and made his way to the couch where Michael’s body was. He rested his crutches down on the floor and then gently pulled the alien tech off of Michael to put it on the counter. Then he pulled the corner of the blanket up and crawled inside.

‘Alex,’ Michael whispered, sounding almost pitiful. Alex just cuddled closer. He was cold and unbreathing and it was unsettling as hell, but it was Michael.

Of all the things they hadn’t done, they had done this. Alex had slept with his head on his shoulder or his chest more than once. Michael had slept fully on top of him even more. They always slept well together. Even when the nightmares came, there was a safety in having another body to hold. And so Alex held him.

He tugged Michael’s limp arm around him and layered his hand over his to keep it on his hip. He rested his head on his chest and draped his leg over Michael’s thighs. Then Alex closed his eyes.

‘Get some sleep, Alex,’ Michael said, ‘I’ll hold you for real soon.’

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Alex murmured.

‘I fully plan to keep it. Get some rest.’

And Alex did. He never actually fell asleep hard enough to actually dream which was both great and terrible. He was still tired when he opened his eyes again, but he didn’t have any dreams to add to the list and that in itself was refreshing. Michael was still a cold, unmoving rock beneath him. Alex didn’t move.

He laid there for a long time, rubbing circles in his chest with his thumb. 

Eventually, Alex made his way upstairs to get presentable whenever he realized Liz, Kyle, Max, and Isobel were probably on their way. Michael was quiet in his mind, but the ever-present buzzing wasn’t gone so he took that as a good sign.

Alex got dressed and brushed his teeth and got his prosthetic on and managed to even eat breakfast by the time they pulled up. 

‘It’s gonna be okay. Hopefully, we’ll figure it out today,’ Michael said. Alex sighed and nodded, sipping his coffee as he unlocked the door.

“Hopefully.”

“So you trapped my brother in your brain?” Isobel greeted. Alex managed a smile.

“Good morning to you too.”

“Can he hear us?” she wondered, eyeing Alex. He nodded easily. “Michael, this was a really weird way for you to try and get a boyfriend.”

‘That’s not what happened!’

“He said that’s not what happened,” Alex repeated. Isobel rolled her eyes like she didn’t buy it. Alex was too ready to get this over with to argue. “Let’s go downstairs and you can see what you need to do. There’s coffee in the kitchen if you guys want any.”

No one went and got coffee.

By the time they made it down to the bunker and Alex sat on the floor beside the couch, he found himself feeling like a spectacle. They were all staring at him and Michael with confusion and fear and pity‒and he was more than slightly miserable about it. Michael murmured encouraging words, but it only did so much.

“I hate seeing him like that,” Isobel said, suddenly a lot less flippant now that she was actually seeing Michael laid out and unbreathing and cold. Alex watched a series of emotions cross her face and couldn’t help but think about how this was the second brother she was seeing look dead.

‘I’m not dead. I’m going to be okay,’ Michael insisted. Alex nodded. He hoped he was right.

“Me too. Can we get started?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Isobel said. She quickly knelt beside him and beside the couch.

‘Wait, before she starts, we all three should be holding the piece,’ Michael said quickly. Alex licked his lips and nodded.

“Michael says we should hold the piece. And, Kyle, stand by to check vitals whenever he comes to. Max, just be ready to do your little healing thing just in case,” Alex instructed. Kyle nodded and Max opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was immediately shut down by Liz and Isobel simultaneously glaring at him. Then he nodded.

Alex took a deep breath as grabbed the piece. He pulled Michael’s hand off the couch to touch it as well and Isobel grabbed onto the other end. Alex locked eyes with Isobel and instantly started to feel her trying to pry. Instinct and training told him not to let her.

‘Alex. Relax. I’m right here. It’s gonna be okay,’ Michael coaxed. He kept whispering sweet words of encouragement and Alex did his best to let himself go as he started at Isobel.

Slowly but surely, he phased out of consciousness and into where she wanted him.

-

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, what is this?”

Alex was sitting cross-legged on a bench of some sort and everything around them was pitch black. Well, mostly. Isobel was far to his right and across from him was Michael. To his left, the piece floated and lit the empty space well enough that he could see their faces. Isobel was fully mobile and aware, but Michael seemed to be just as catatonic as he was in real life.

“Why does he look like that?” Alex asked, “He’s obviously awake, I’ve been hearing him in my head.”

“I don’t know, why does your mindscape look like this? I’ve never been in one that’s all black before,” Isobel commented. 

Alex could barely give her the time of day as he stared at Michael. It took him a moment but he eventually realized he was vibrating so quickly it was hard to catch. No wonder there was incessant buzzing. Alex wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, but he couldn’t seem to move.

“Jesus, this place is ridiculous, I feel like I’m walking in tar,” Isobel said. Alex finally looked at her and she was moving, but it was in slow motion. It was really fucking frustrating.

“I think it’s because I don’t want you to see anything,” Alex admitted. Isobel scoffed.

“Well, will you let up enough for me to try and fix this?” she demanded. Alex swallowed and looked at Michael and then to the piece. He really didn’t want to.

“Tell me what the plan is first,” Alex said. Despite how irritated she very clearly was, Isobel gave him an answer.

“I’m going to lead Michael to the piece and then I’m going to get out of your mindscape and then go into his and lead him away. That sounds like the easiest route,” Isobel said. Alex bit his bottom lip as he stared at Michael. That did sound like the easiest route. And that’s primarily what made him nervous.

He didn’t like doing this without hearing Michael’s opinion.

“Listen, Alex, maybe if you let up, he’ll be more aware and we can ask what he thinks we should do,” Isobel said. Alex stayed quiet for a moment.

He made his decision quietly while staring at the blurred outline of Michael’s body. Light started to filter into the space and Isobel’s movement was made a bit easier as she headed to Michael. As the light flooded in, so did memories.

Michael’s voice‒never with someone I like as much as I like you. Alex’s voice‒you’re mine. His father’s voice‒too many to pick out anything in particular. Isobel glanced over at him as his father’s voice started to overpower Alex’s own thoughts. 

“Stop it, focus on him,” Alex said. Isobel took a breath and nodded.

Michael’s blurred figure slowly opened his eyes, blinking and tired. Alive. The sight alone was enough to bring him a bit of comfort. Alex listened as Isobel ran her plan by him and he nodded, glancing over at Alex. He gave a smile and Alex couldn’t help but give one right back.

In the background, his own voice and Michael’s voice overpowered his father’s.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” Michael told him, echo-y and honest. Alex nodded.

“And I’ll see you.”

Michael took Isobel’s hand and she swiftly led him over to the piece with practiced ease. She gave one more glance around Alex’s mindscape before she waved and everything went black again.

-

Alex opened his eyes to see both Isobel and Michael still out of it. Michael’s buzzing no longer filled his head.

Alex gave a breath of relief and slumped back, his hands bracing against the floor as he waited.

It was painfully quiet as they all watched Isobel and Michael hold onto the piece with bated breaths. It worked. Hopefully. It was working. Michael wasn’t in his head. That was good. This was good. Things were going in the right direction.

Or he thought that until Isobel opened her eyes and let go of the piece. She didn’t look satisfied or relieved as she stared at Michael’s body. His still, cold, unbreathing body. They all waited. 

“Where is he?” Alex asked after a moment, “Why isn’t he waking up?”

“He… He said he could do it on his own. I thought he had it…” Isobel said softly. Alex choked on air and stared at her with wide eyes.

“Well go back in and see where he’s at! Maybe he got lost!” Alex demanded. She didn’t look his way as she stared at her brother.

“No, I saw him leave. If he’s not there, then I don’t know…” Isobel trailed off.

In an instant, Alex was on his knees and trying his best to avoid the piece as he shook Michael’s shoulders.

“Wake up,” he told him, “Wake up, you promised me you’d see me.”

A few more seconds passed without him and Isobel scrambled back to grab Max’s arm, tugging him forward. She was snapping at him to do something, but Alex could barely hear as he shook him. He needed him to wake up.

“Alex, move, I’m gonna try to get up, but if you’re touching him it could hurt you,” Max said. Alex moved away faster than he logically should’ve, but Max quickly stepped in and put his hand over his heart.

Before any funky alien healing could happen, though, Michael’s eyes opened and he took a deep breath.

“Fuck, my head hurts.”

And for the first time in days, Alex laughed.

-

After Michael insisted he was fine, let Liz and Kyle take vitals, and insisted he was fine some more, they eventually gave them some space under the condition that Michael had to get lunch with Isobel after he got some rest.

The house was quiet, the doors were locked, and the sun was shining through the windows as Alex sat on his bed and Michael sat across from him. They were both changed into nightclothes and staring at each other, feeling familiar in a completely new way. Alex had no doubt that his joy was nothing but his own.

It was nice to have quiet in his mind again. Nicer to have Michael here. Even nicer than that, to have Michael be on the same page.

“Alex,” Michael said, slowly like he was testing the word in his mouth again. Alex found himself smiling a bit too wide.

“Michael,” Alex said back. Michael smiled just as wide. “In the nicest way possible, I never want to get near your brain ever again.”

Michael laughed softly and, fuck, it was a nice sound. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it.

“And in the nicest way possible, I never want to be stuck inside you ever again,” Michael said. His tongue pressed behind his teeth as he smirked. “I mean, not in that way, at least.”

Alex shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“When are you going to touch me with your own hands?” Alex asked. Michael sat up a little straighter.

“I thought we were meant to take a nap.”

“Why can’t we do both?”

Michael didn’t need to be asked a second time as he lunged forward, easily pressing Alex into the mattress. For the first time in a long time, Alex was kissed without hesitation and without a time limit and without restrictions. He was kissed like he was known and loved by someone he knew and loved.

Michael’s hands gripped his sides and slowly slid up, feeling him and gripping him tightly. He settled between Alex’s thighs and kissed him breathless and touched him anywhere he could reach. Even the way he grabbed his knee and his elbows felt like gentle caresses, carefully and deliberately.

“I am going to take my time with you,” Michael whispered into his mouth, “And I am going to savor every minute of it.”

Alex grinned and tugged him closer, wanting to have every inch of himself pressed against every inch of Michael. He was warm and breathing and his heart was beating. All things Alex would never take for granted.

“I’m going to put in the work this time, Alex,” Michael promised, pulling Alex off the bed just enough to grab the blanket and throw it over them. With a tilt of the head and no ridiculous reaction at all, the light shut off and the curtains closed and it was just them. Separate, but together. “This time I’m not wasting time.”

“Me neither,” Alex hummed. Michael’s hands slid beneath his shirt, over his bare stomach and chest, and breathed him in. 

“I love you,” Michael said, honest and out loud, “And I know you know that I love you, but I love you. So much.”

“I love you too,” Alex said, “And I know you know that I love you, but I love you.”

Michael grinned and wrapped his arms around him, slowly lowering himself as he left a trail of kisses from his mouth to his neck. His head hit Alex’s shoulder and his body relaxed on top of his. Fully and completely.

Because he was here. And he was breathing. And he was his.

And Alex finally fell asleep.

[danniburgh]

Before the sun shines onto us

I wrote a Pedro Pascal fic, I’m aware I’m sick, I have therapy tomorrow

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Fem!reader

Summary: It's been a long time since they saw each other, they lived so many things together that neither of them could change not forget, yet for her, returning to the house that they shared for so long, while the world was ending, was way more necessary than she had expected. or Pedro didn't expect to see his ex-wife standing on the front door, he didn't expect her to ask about the recent news or to compliment his home decour style just as if nothing had happened. But given the fact that the world was ending, he let her in anyway.

Word count: +6.2k

Warnings: real people fiction!!!!, narrated in third person basically the end of the world, angst, mentions of ch*ld de*ath (tw at the beginning of the scene), science, made up space shit

A/N: i made myself cry like four times writing this, im not sorry, this was mainly inspired by “rocks that bleed” a short film that lives in my mind rent free since the first time i saw it

Masterlist // Read in ao3

She came out of the door of the hotel salon, her big handbag was hanging from her right arm, her small suitcase was being rolled with the left one, she encountered one of her colleagues that was also getting out and the man waved at her with a smile.

"Hey, you wanna grab a coffee with the rest of us?" He kind of screamed the question, trying to make himself heard over the voiced of all the people that were getting out and gathering at the entrance of the salon, he smiled back at him and shook her head.

"I have to go back home, Ben, but I'll grab that coffee next time, for sure" The man laughed.

"See you next year, then" She waved at him as she walked down the corridor towards the elevators, she rushed to the only one open despite her high heels and one of the people already inside held the door for her.

"Thanks" She took out her phone from her bag and dialed the most recent number on her calls history, her assistant picked up in the first tone. "Hey Jessi, is the ticket ready?" she asked, looking at the small screen on top of the elevator, impatient to reach the first floor.

"Yes misses Balmaceda, ready for you to pick it up and the flight is at seven thirty" the girl on the other side of the line said, the elevator door opened and she was the first one to walk out of it.

"Thank you, see you in the morning" She said, hanging up, while she was walking towards the hotel main entrance she dialed her husband's phone number, she heard his voice while giving her suitcase to one of the bellboys, who was holding the door open for her to get out.

"Taxi?" the boy said, and she nodded.

"Hey, babe, just got out of the seminar" On the other side of the line she could hear some giggles and on the background she heard a children's song that she immediately recognized.

"Oh finally, how was it?" She smiled at her husband's response, she noticed his agitated voice. A taxi pulled over next to her and the driver got out to help the bellboy with the suitcase.

"Well, you know, doctor stuff" She said, teasingly "They amazingly discovered yet another protein that produces cerebral cancer, but now I'm on my way home" He let out a sigh and she got inside the car.

"You okay, Pedro?" The taxi driver got inside as well and looked at her "Airport, please" The man nodded and started the engine.

"Ash please stop changing the channels" She smiled at the mention of their daughter "Yeah I'm fine, just tired, what time you're arriving?"

"Around ten, how's my baby?" She asked.

"She's being a torment right now, she didn't let me read the script I received" Pedro said with a laugh "She has bedtime in two minutes" he raised his voice, more to the little girl that was running around the living room than to his wife, She smiled and the taxi made a turn.

"Awe, I miss my baby" She murmured while looking out the window.

"And your baby missed you, we both do" Pedro said back, she didn't respond, a bright light outside caught her attention.

"The moon looks very shiny" She whispered, surprised.

"What?"

"The moon, it looks very, very shiny" She emphasized "Way more than normal"

"Amor, it's the moon, it's always shiny"

"No, Pedro, it looks... Shinier than usual"

"What do you even mean?"

"Go look at it"

"I'm not gonna look at it" He laughed "It's just the goddamn moon."

"Honey please, it looks odd, just indulge me" She insisted.

"It does look weird" The taxi driver said while making another turn, leaving the moon behind them.

"See? even the driver thinks so" She giggled, turning on the seat to see it again through the back windshield

"I mean I guess it looks kind of unusual" Pedro said.

"Told you" She said, he laughed at her cocky voicetone. The taxi made yet another turn and she could see the airport. "Okay babe, gotta go, see you later, give Ashley a kiss from me"

"Can't wait to see you, love you"

"Love you too"

****

She turned off the car's ignition and looked at the town house through the copilot's window, she hadn't been inside in so long it almost looked... Unknown to her.

She hesitated to open the car door and get out but she did it anyway. She stopped and looked down at that specific patch of concrete on the street, and had to force herself to look away from it, as she could feel her throat getting clogged already.

She walked slowly to the end of the steps and stopped again to look at the front door, it was worn down and a bit darker than she recalled, she walked up the steps one by one until she got to the front door, it was there where she noticed how the street was oddly quiet, dark, only lightened by the street lights and the overshiny moon, very calm, the only noise that she could hear was the wind playing with the few leaves left on the trees and the muffled sound that came from inside the house.

She hesitated to knock on the door for a second but she did it anyway. One, two, three small hits with her knuckles.

The door opened and there he was, tall as ever, handsome as ever.

"Hi" She said, he looked surprised, she didn't know if it was because she was there or not, she noticed his beard and her stomach made a turn because of how much she liked it, she also noticed the bag below his eyes and she wanted to cry because his damn eyes were as warm and deep as she remembered.

"Hi" Pedro responded.

"Did you hear?" She asked, he tilted his head, implicitly telling her to elaborate on her question "About the sun?"

He stood there, looking at her, she then had that sensation on her chest she hadn't felt in so much, the expectation, the tension, she wanted to know so bad what was going on inside his head, she had seen so many brains in her career but with his, she just wanted to read his thoughts so she could know if she wanted her there or if she had to leave and be alone while everything happened.

He then nodded slightly and stepped to the side to let her in.

She hesitated to go inside for a split second, but she did it anyway, she walked slowly, taking in all the changes he had made to the place, new paint, some new furniture, it even smelled different.

She jumped, startled, when he reached her shoulders from behind to take off her jacket, not because he scared her, but because she hadn't felt his touch in way too long.

****

The taxi pulled over in front of her house, she paid while opening the car door, getting out and taking out the suitcase from inside the car.

"Keep the change" She sad, closing the taxi door, she rushed over to the end of the steps and walked them up as fast as her heels allowed her to, already with the key on her hand.

She opened the door and got inside, the house was silent and the only light on was a lamp on the living room, she took out her shoes and dropped them on the entrance, she walked to the kitchen, lifting some of Ashley's toys in the way, on top of the counter was a tinfoil covered dish, and she smiled at the small note stuck to it that had a smiley face drawn on.

She felt two hands on her waist that startled her, and then a soft pair of lips on her cheek.

"You scared me" She said laughing, she turned around on his embrace and faced Pedro, already in his pajamas.

"Good" He smiled at her and hugged her tighter, she stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss, using her hands to caress his biceps and go all the way to the nape of his neck.

"Hi, movie star"

"How was your flight, Doctor?" He asked softly on her lips, then he put his forehead on hers.

"Flight-ey" She smiled, he nodded softly as he left his hands wander on her waist, her hip and her lower back  "I'm wrecked"

"Me and you both" He gave her another kiss, this one hungrier than the last one, but also slower.

"Where's my baby?"

"Already asleep"

"I wanna see her" He nodded and kissed her one last time before breaking the tight embrace, he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the kitchen.

"Vamos"

They got up the stairs in silence, she holding his left hand and he holding her suitcase with his right one, she made a turn to Ashley's room while Pedro walked to their bedroom, she opened the door trying not to be loud, and walked towards the girl's bed, sitting on it beside her.

Pedro left the suitcase and came back to his daughter's room, watching as his wife was caressing softly the little girl's soft brown hair while whispering to her words he couldn't listen, he smiled and leaned on the door frame, crossing his arms, she turned to see him.

"Can you believe we made this wonder?" She murmured, pointing at the little girl fast asleep on the bed.

****

Pedro didn't like how he was feeling about her being there, he knew he was supposed to be angry, if not, maybe a bit offended, but he wasn't. He liked her being there, in the place that was theirs, in the house that belonged to her.

"I like the color" She said, pointing at the wall and looked at him for a brief moment. "It doesn't even look like the same house" She sounded amazed.

"Yeah, I had it painted last year" He walked past her, still with her jacket on his hands, he left it on the armchair near the hallway "You wanna sit down?" She nodded and sat on the couch near the window. He stood there, just trying to figure out what to say or what to do, he scratched his beard and then sat down on the other armchair, next to the couch she was sitting on.

Pedro looked at her as her eyes wandered across everything that was within her sight but him, he noticed rather quickly that she was avoiding looking at him. He was astonished by just her mere presence there.

She was stift, she didn't know what to say to him or even if she should even speak at all, while she was looking at the new coat of paint, she noticed a big painting of a beach hanging on the wall near the dining table, it looked cold, it looked out of place.

"How's your dad?" She asked, looking down at her hands, or her shoes, he couldn't tell.

"He's okay" He responded, she fidgeted her fingers, he knew what she was really asking "He's gonna spend it with my brothers, Nico flew to Chile when the rumors started" She nodded.

"And Javi?" Pedro sighed, he knew why she was asking about his family, he knew she cared about them, but he also knew that she was making time, she didn't want to tell him yet why she was there.

"She's at home, she's with the in-laws"

Then the silence fell on them once again, she was just sitting there, and he knew she could feel her gaze on her, she always could, and he didn't think her body had already forgotten how his stare felt.

She tried to control herself, she didn't want to break more, then she realized why the beach painting looked so out of place. That wall used to be the place where half a dozen pictures of Ashley were hung. She felt the clogging in her throat again and she felt the familiar stinging on the back of her eyes, for a moment she wanted to yell at him and ask him where all of her pictures went, but she couldn't, she wasn't ready.

"I wanted to go back home" She mentioned in a hushed-tone, still looking down "But then they announced the state borders were closing so I had to stay"

Pedro didn't say anything, he wanted her to speak more, he wanted her to tell him what was she doing there after three years, he wanted her to explain to him why she did what she did without him having to ask her for answers.

She then lifted his head and looked at him, she was crying.

****

She felt a tiny, cold pair of hands on her cheeks, then a small pair of lips kissing her forehead, she smiled without opening her eyes as the tiny hands caressed her hair.

"Mommy" She heard near her ear "Are you awake?" She smiled at the question and then shook her head. She heard giggles. "Yes you are."

"Wake up papi" She whispered while opening one of her eyes to see her little girl kneeling on the edge of the bed, with her big brown eyes small, her hair all rowdy and her pajamas wrinkled. Ashley wineded her grin and she helped her cross her to get to the middle of the bed. Pedro was on his tummy, hugging the pillow, and Ashley sat on his back.

"Papi, despierta, wake up" She started screaming and jumping in his back, Pedro growled and reached to the girl with one arm to hug her off his back and down to the bed.

"Papá tiene la espalda muy jodida, niña" He said with a laugh while Ashley was laughing as he tickled her. (Daddy's back is very fucked, girly)

"It's my cumpleaños" Ashley screamed, wanting her father to free her from his tickly fingers. (It's my birthday) Pedro stopped the tickle assault and looked at his wife, that was enjoying the show from the comfort of the other side of the bed.

"Why do you let her hurt me like this?" He asked with a smile on his face.

"It's her cumpleaños" She shrugged, Pedro laughed at the response.

"I turn this many" The girl, still in her father's arms, raised up a hand with three lifted fingers.

"You're getting old" Pedro screamed while resuming his tickle attack.

"¡Para, papá!" Ashley screamed again (Stop, dad) and giggled out of his arms, crawling to her laughing mom and sitting on her lap. "Mommy, I love you, can we have ice cream for breakfast?" Her mom laughed at the attempted bribe.

"What if we have it after breakfast?" Ashley shook her head. "No? Maybe with the breakfast?" Pedro laughed and sat on the bed while the girl nodded effusively, then she opened her arms and Ashley fell into them "Happy birthday, my sunshine"

Pedro saw his two girls with a smile on his face and got closer to hug them both, giving his wife a kiss on the cheek and then one to his daughter on the head.

"Feliz cumpleaños, pulga" (Happy birthday, flea [i swear it's endearingly in spanish])

****

"I called my mom" She said, wiping off a tear that was beginning to fall on her cheek and looking away, still trying to look for pictures of Ashley, Pedro shifted on the chair "I actually spoke to her for almost four hours" He nodded, not knowing where she was going on with this, but wanting to hear more "And we talked about us, and about how much we love each other" She left out more tears as she spoke "She asked me to forgive her for all the things she did wrong" Pedro was absort on how much it hurt him to see her like that, and didn't even tried to hide it, "We just wanted closure" she said, and then he saw her rubbing her hands together as if they were cold "She's gonna be alone, y'know, for this?" She gestured with her hand, making a circle "But she didn't want me to be alone"

Pedro then looked at her more intensely, trying to analize her as she wiped her tears away and looked around the house, searching for something. He didn't know if he wanted her to elaborate more on what she talked about with her mom, but he did know what she was looking for.

He stood up and walked towards her, she felt a shiver down her spine as he kneeled on the other side of the couch and opened the curtain. She turned on her seat and saw three small picture frames put neatly on the edge of the window. She felt her shoulders drop as he sat next to her and grabbed the first one and gave it to her.

"Her first steps" He said, she nodded, looking at the picture through the wetness of her eyes. She blinked and a tear fell on the glass, she wiped it and saw him grab the next one.

"That's on her third birthday" He said, softly, she took the picture and left out a sob, she covered her mouth with her free hand and then looked up to the ceiling.

"I thought-"

"I know" He interrupted her, standing up and taking a deep breath and turning his back to her "I just don't like to see them all the time" He said, she nodded even though he didn't see her.

"She has your eyes" She whispered, he looked at her and she did the same, she saw his eyes fill with tears and then he said something she wish she didn't hear.

"Had"

****

[tw]

She was writing a report on her laptop when she heard a knock on the door, then she heard Pedro's voice from outside.

"Can you help us with the groceries, please" He yelled, she let out a laugh and closed the computer, walked towards the front door and opened it to see her husband carrying more groceries than he could handle on the doorstep and her daughter trying to help with three others on the sidewalk, she moved to let Pedro inside and got out to carry the ones left.

"Honey get inside, please, it's freezing" She said, grabbing two bags and waiting for the girl to walk up the stairs.

"I wanna help" Ashley said, trying to lift a heavy bag.

"I think I over-bought" Pedro said behind her, walking down the stairs, she turned to see him.

"Oh do you?" She laughed, her husband took the bags she was holding and gave her a kiss. "I'm gonna grab the other one" Pedro nodded and turned to leave the bags inside. "C'mon Ash, inside" She said as she turned around to grab the bag that was left.

The bag was tilted to the side, there were two tuna cans on the floor and she saw Ashley walking towards the street to pick up another can that was rolling away. She saw everything in slow motion when in fact it happened within a minute.

"¡Ashley leave that!" She screamed at her daughter, rushing to grab her, the child stopped in the middle of the street and showed the can to her mom with a victory smile on her face. She tried to run to Ashley that hadn't seen the suv that was already a feet away from her.

Pedro only heard a long scream, the sound of car breaks, then a deep sob.

He rushed out of the house, the first thing that he saw was the suv, stopped in the middle of the street, then whom he assumed was the driver, talking desperately into the phone, then he saw his wife crouched on the asphalt, holding... Ashley.

Pedro tried to walk towards them but his legs didn't respond, he dropped to his knees in the middle of the sidewalk while he saw his wife sitting in the middle of the street holding their little girl to her chest screaming her name as loud as she could. He felt more cold than he had ever felt in his life, he felt his eyes wanting to pop out of his head, he felt like sticking his hand into his chest to squish out his heart, he wanted to stop looking at the scene, he didn't want to see Ashley's blood on the concrete anymore, he didn't want to hear his wife screaming her lungs out calling for her baby, he didn't want to see his little girls body being ripped away from her mother. But there he was, seeing it all, hearing it all, feeling it all.

Pedro sat there while his wife sat on the street, the ambulance came, the police did too, their neighbours showed up as well and they just sat there, seeing without seeing, hearing without hearing.

By the time the paramedics made the call, pronounced Ashley and took her away, his wife had stopped crying, was being helped by a police officer to stand up and then Pedro did too. He walked towards her and slowly reached for her face, she didn't say anything, he didn't say anything. She leaned into his chest and he held her as tight as his body responded him. They stood there for a while, the sun went down and then the moon lighted up, she looked down and the bag of groceries was put into the edge of the stairs.

"The moon" Pedro said, she looked up "It looks unusual again"

****

"Had" She corrected.

He stood there in silence, she was holding the picture to her chest, that image reminded him of so much that he closed his eyes instictevly.

"Are you gonna tell me why you're here?" He asked softly. She looked at him, astounded that he wasn't angry, or exasperated, astounded that he was just... sad, she looked at him, wondering why she could still read him as well as she did back when they were together.

"I..." She started, he looked at her and saw her face, puffy and red from crying and her eyes, even so watery, expecting and hopeful. "I don't wanna be alone" She let out a sob and then hid her face into her hands, feeling stupid, pathetic, feeling lonely, as well as sad, so very sad, because she knew he had all the right to make her leave, she knew that if he wanted, he could tell her to fuck off and throw her out to spend the last time alone.

"Okay" He said, she looked at him, thanking him with one look, he stared at her for what it seemed hours and then nodded. "I'll bring you some water"

She saw him walking to the kitchen, she heard him grab a cup, opening the fridge and pouring water into it, then he came back and handed it to her.

"It's filtered, don't worry" He told her, sitting on the chair again, she nodded and took a sip, then left it on the floor, by the end of the couch.

"Do they have any idea when it's gonna start?" She asked, more out loud than directly to him, he shrugged.

"They have no fucking idea of anything" He answered.

"Are you mad?" She asked him "About how's gonna end?" He frowned at the way she asked, and actually thought of it because he didn't know.

"I guess I am" He said "There was so much I wanted to do, y'know" He scratched his beard and moved to lean on his hand, putting his elbow on his knee "You heard they closed the movie business when the news broke?" She lifted her eyebrows in surprised, she was so out of the loop "Everything was shut down, it was fucking unbelievable" He said.

"When was the last time you filmed anything?" She asked, he grinned.

"About eight months ago, when they announce the exact date." He said, looking at her, he felt how they were starting to loosen up a bit, and so he didn't want to waste any more of the short amount of time they had, either together or alive. "Why did you leave?"

****

When he entered the kitchen there was smoke coming out of the oven, he quickly turned it off and opened it along with the stractor to try to get rid of most of the smoke. She was standing next to the fridge, looking at nothing, holding an oven mitt close to her chest.

"Are you ok?" He asked, he knew it was the most stupid question he could ask at the moment, and he understood when she didn't even acknowledge it. He stood there for a second, wondering and pondering if he could walk towards her and hug her, wondering and pondering if she would take the hug or push him away once again as she had done for the past few months.

He decided to give it a chance and walked towards her, though he didn't hug her, he just stood next to her.

She let out a sob and slowly shoved the oven mitt into his chest, walking away.

Pedro held the mitt and he recognized the drawing it had, it was one of many projects Ashley had made in school. He went after her, she was standing in the middle of the living room, looking at all the pictures of Ashley the had on the wall. He went for it and tried to hug her waist from behind, she let out a sigh and took his arms and unmade the embrace. He closed his eyes just wanting to know what was going on. She turned to see him with her eyes filled with tears.

"I need to leave" She said, he felt the air leaving his chest.

"What?"

"I can't be here anymore" She sobbed out, he walked towards her again and she stopped hi with a hand on his chest "I'm sorry, I can't" He frowned, he needed an explanation and she knew she was entitled to one but she didn't have the strength to do it.

"I'll go" He said, grabbing her from the arms, she shook her head and let out two thick tears.

"I'm the one leaving" She said, slowly.

"But why" He cried, he didn't realize he was crying as well until he said that. "Please talk to me."

"I can't be in this house anymore, Pedro, I can't be here anymore" She said through her sobs, he tried to hug her again and she refused.

"Let's go together, let's leave together" He pleaded. She shook her head. "Please don't leave"

"I don't wanna be here anymore"

"You don't want to be with me?" He asked, hoping and praying for the answer to be yes.

"No"

He sobbed, she then hugged him and he held her as tight as he had strength to.

"You have her eyes" She sobbed "I can't look at your eyes because all I can see it's her and I can't bear it anymore" He let out a sob all the way from his chest, she wanted to break the hug.

"Please don't leave" He begged "I need you"

"I'm so sorry" She looked at him, grabbed his face and they there were, his damn eyes, the same she had, the same eyes she had stared into when she was holding her body when she left. "I want you to know that I do love you" She said, he closed his eyes and shook his head "And I will never stop, you hear me? I will always love you"

Then she walked up the stairs and left him in the living room, knowing she was packing, knowing she was leaving, knowing then and there that he would be alone.

And when she got down with a suitcase on her hand, he stood there, crying his eyes out, begging her with his eyes not to leave, wanting her to stay, promising it would get better.

But she opened the door, gave him one last stare and wiped a tear away.

"I'll come back for the rest of my things when you're at set" And walked out.

He sat on the couch wondering what he did wrong, while she stood in the doorstep for a while, looking at the very unusual, evergrowingly shiny moon.

****

The question took her by surprise, she knew he wanted to know, she still knew, after three years, he was entitled to an explanation, she owed her one.

"I know it won't make sense" She started "But I saw her in you" He saw her jaw starting to tremble.

"That's the thing" He said, trying to remain calm, trying to forget all those nights he spent screaming into his pillows, trying to forget all the times different directors had to cut scenes because he was inexplicably crying. "I saw her in you, too" She looked down, embarrassed "And I still loved you, I worshiped you" He said, his voice breaking at the last sentence "I fucking died inside a second time when you left"

"Pedro" It was the first time she'd said his name since she arrived, and he didn't like what it made him feel, he had worked hard to try to forget her and keep the happy memories of his little girl intact that he felt like an incredible failure when he felt his heart pounding at the sound of his name on her lips. "I know it wasn't fair-"

"Of fucking course it wasn't fair" He cut her "You left me here, to grieve alone, do you think I didn't suffer after Ashley died?"

"Be both did, you know that, each of us in a different way" She sobbed out.

"And yet, when I needed your support you left" He said, she could hear a tone of irony.

"And what about me?" She said, frowning, realizing that maybe it had been a mistake to knock on his door "Did you actually think I would be grieving just with hugs? And kisses? I needed to talk about it, Pedro, I fucking needed to talk about it, our little girl died, and you just wanted to cuddle up in bed and stay there"

He opened his mouth trying to respond but he couldn't, because it was true. He knew it was his mistake and then and there he realized that he couldn't do anything to repair it.

A blast was heard outside, they both jumped, she looked out the window and saw absolutely nothing. He reached for the tv remote and turned it on.

He put on the news channel while wiping his tears, and sat next to her on the couch, there was a coverage on what they were calling "The Outburst", for them, it was just an announced chronicle of the end of the world, they were talking about the flares of the sun getting increasingly hotter, higher and dangerous.

"Ugh, as if we didn't know" Pedro said, then they ran a simulation of what would happen once the earth reached what, once again, they were calling "Blast Wave Point", the point where the earth and the sun would be closer to each other, the earth would heat up and everything will start catching in flames, then the "Last Flare" would reach and light everything on fire. She reached and grabbed Pedro's hand as the images on the tv showed a render of the end of humanity. He turned off the tv. "Apparently it was just a flare reaching the atmosphere" He said, she nodded and looked at him.

"Are you still mad at me?" She asked, he gripped her hand and shook his head.

"We're past that" He said "Time did its thing" She gave him a soft smile and nodded. "Are you hungry?"

They had dinner together, they talked about what they had done the last three years, he had heard about her new investigation reaching the scientific community before the colleges shut down, she had watched him receive an oscar way before they announced the exact date of The Outburst.

They had laughed at how they actually weren't the first people to notice the increasing reflection of the sun on the moon as the huge star heated to the point of no return, they had reminisce at how they looked at the moon every time they missed each other or every time they missed Ashley.

They cried again, holding each other hands, and asked for forgiveness and forgave one another. They remembered the good times they spent together in over eight years of relationship and the rough times as well.

They watched the president's final address to the people of America, the doomsday goodbye, and laughed at the stiffness of it all, spent hours talking and talking about their childhoods and how they imagine Ashley would be like now, hearing once every few hours the blasts of the sun flares reaching the atmosphere.

"I'm actually glad she's not here to see this shit" She said, Pedro nodded in agreement, they had moved to sit on the floor, the temperature outside was rising and they had started to break a sweat, he lend her one of his t-shirts so she could remove the sweater she was wearing before.

"Don't you wonder how our lives would be if things didn't go as they did?" He asked her, she looked at him and grabbed his hand.

"Maybe I could've learned more español" She teased, he laughed "I do, but when I catch myself doing it I force myself to stop" He looked at her, interested "Because I know it's not healthy, y'know, to live that way in the past" He nodded with a nostalgic smile. And they listened carefully as another flare tried to reach the planet.

"Sounds ominous" He said, she laughed.

"Do you think it'll let us know?" She asked, he moved his body to face hers and shrugged.

"I don't know I've never lived this before" He teased "Why don't you know?" He asked her.

"I'm a neurologist not an astronomer" She answered with a smile, and went on to lean her head on his shoulder. "I really hope it doesn't"

"Why?"

"I don't wanna know, I wanna burn to death without it in my mind" She said, looking at his eyes, making him feel ever so transparent, making him feel like she could read him like an open book.

"What do you wanna have in your mind?" He asked, knowing full well why.

"Ashley" She said, he smiled endearingly "I wanna burn to death while I look into your eyes" She let out. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"God, how did I miss you" He spat. She smiled and lifted a hand to cup his face. They could hear two blasts going off at the same time, and the power went down.

"Shit" She said, scared, he pulled her into him, even though the air was hot and thick and they were sweaty and messy, he held her. Another two blasts went off. "Is it time?" She asked, he didn't respond because he didn't know. A set of four blasts were heard, one after the other "It's letting us know" She cried into his chest.

Pedro loosened his grip on her and grabbed her face with both hands, making her see him.

"It's gonna be okay" He said, trying to wipe off her tears with his thumbs "We're together, you're with me now" She nodded as the blasts started to get more frequent and the heat started to get almost unbearable.

"Why the fuck is this happening so fast?" She said, blinking fast to let the tears fall, Pedro shook his head, not knowing what to say, about to burst into tears as well, he would've been lying if he had said he wasn't scared "I need more time" She spat, while trying to cling to him "I need more time with you" He started crying as he heard her saying those words. Somehow made him feel the warmest he had felt in years, even in the middle of the apocalypse. "I love you, Pedro, I never stopped loving you"

"I know, I love you too, I fucking love you" He felt his skin wet with sweat and she finally closed the little distance they had left between them, she kissed him eagerly and clumsily, she kissed him like she hadn't kiss any human being in three years, and as he grabbed her face as close as he could, opening his lips for her to consume the little air he still had inside his chest, he thought there was nowhere else he wanted to be, right there, as the world was lighting up in flames, as the whole human race was being wiped from the planet, there was nothing else he wanted to do, no one else he wanted to embrace, no other thing he wanted to do, than to kiss the love of his life, after so long of not feeling her touch.

If the end of the world had to happen for them to feel each other again, so be it.

[addictofsupernatural]

Summer Love

Kei Tsukishima x reader

Summary: Kuroo and Bokuto try to push Tsukki together with his crush, the assistant manager, on the summer retreat.

Word Count: 3.4k

"Hey Tsukki, I—" The tall blonde turned to you and let his guard down, completely forgetting what he was doing. He was drawn to the sound of your voice, which caused him to be hit with a spike from Bokuto on the cheek.

"I still win!" Bokuto declared with his fists raised.

"At the cost of his face you horned owl bastard!" Kuroo barked.

You ran over to Tsukishima, who was bent slightly and holding his face. His whole body was turned from you but you ran around him. His cheeks were slightly tinted with red.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" You grabbed his cheeks and turned his face so that you could see the red mark.

"I'm fine." He grabbed your wrists away from his face and straightened up. "What did you need?"

"Oh, I was going to say that I saved some food for you and your friends." You let him keep his hands on your wrists, and rather liked that he didn't just smack your hands away. Not that you'd have the courage to tell him that. You nervously smiled. "I'm sorry for distracting you."

"You already apologized."

"But I thought I should say it again."

"Don't. You didn't have any bad intent, and I said I was fine."

You grinned. "Okay, well I'll see you at the cafeteria!" You gently pulled your hands back and patted his arm. You then respectfully bowed at the other three before jogging out of the gym. "Bye for now!"

"Bye." He quietly said.

He suddenly felt an arm drape around his shoulder. "Well well Tsukki," Kuroo said. "I didn't think you'd even look at any girls, let alone crush on them."

He let out a tch and looked away. "I'm not crushing on anyone."

Bokuto put his arm around the other side of Tsukishima. "Are you sure about that four eyes? You wouldn't let go of her hands."

"She didn't seem to mind it though." Akaashi quietly added.

"And she called you Tsukki." Kuroo reminded. "You don't let just anyone call you that."

Tsukishima scoffed. "Are you two done? You're both talking about her when she's not in the room, even though she said she saved food for you." They both laughed and stepped back.

"Woah!"

"Hey hey hey!" He tched again, beginning to walk out, with the other three trailing behind.

When the four of them got into the cafeteria you were at a table with a few other managers. You noticed them staring at you as they sat down at a far away table. You perked up, saying something to the girls and leaving to the back room for a second before returned with plates that were wrapped in tinfoil. You quickly gave it to them and bowed, about to leave when Kuroo stopped you.

"Wait." You turned to him. "Sit down with us. We wanted to get to know you, as a thank you." You nervously nodded and sat next to the tall and also nervous blonde. "I'm sure Tsukishima would be okay with sharing his food with you."

"Oh, it's..." Your voice faded as you watched him silently slide his plate a little towards you. You chuckled. "Okay then."

He gave you a fork, and both quietly ate together. Bokuto was grinning while Kuroo smirked. "What's your name?" Kuroo asked.

"Y/n y/l/n."

You always felt nervous talking to upperclassmen, yet was comfortable with all of those in your grade. Tsukishima noticed this right away. You didn't have anything to prove to your fellow first years, and he felt like he could relate to you on that. While he was stone faced to everyone though, you always had a comfortable smile on.

Bokuto leaned across the table, right into your face. You nervously leaned away. "Do you have a boyfriend?" Your faced heated up as you quickly shook your head. You scooted towards Tsukishima as a feeble effort to get away from Bokuto's face, turning your face to try and hide your embarrassment. "Do you want one?"

Tsukishima scooted closer to you to attempt to help hide your red face as a scowl was placed on his own face. There they go again, talking to and about you as if you didn't have your own feelings.

Kuroo smacked the back of Bokuto's head before looking at you with a smile. "What this arrogant bastard" he yells it to his face before turning to you, "meant was, could you see yourself with anyone here? Maybe in your year, or school perhaps?"

You looked down and fiddled with your hands in your lap, leaning away from Tsukishima. "Stop asking her questions like that." He demanded. "She's uncomfortable."

You whispered a hoarse thank you before clearing your voice. You then said, clearly, "Y'know I never see you two around any women. How are your love lives?"

It took you and everyone else a second to register what you had just said. You then quickly shook your head and raised it to look at the two third years.

"Um, that was very rude of me! I'm sorry, sometimes I don't think about who I'm talking to before I say things. My apologies!"

They only blankly stared at you for a second before laughing. "It's okay y/l/n!" Bokuto said. "That was really funny to hear from you. I think Tsukishima might be rubbing off on you though."

"We have to go now." Akaashi said, trying to save you from more embarrassment.

The other two nodded. Kuroo then said, "Again, thank you for the food."

They stood up as you nodded with your heated face. "You'll be talking with us more!" Bokuto shouted as they then left.

You leaned your head on to Tsukishima's arm. "That was so stupid of me to say." You muttered.

He smirked down at you. "It was, but they're a lot more stupid than you are, so you'll be fine."

You giggled. "Even when you insult me, you still say the right thing." You looked up and smiled at him. The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds before you realized how close you were. You leaned back and looked away. "I think I'll go to bed now."

His smile went away. "Okay."

"You should sleep soon too. You've worked so hard today." You then looked at him and patted the cheek where he got hit. "Goodnight."

"Night."

The next day you were brought out of your thoughts and note takings when Fukurodani had it's turn to play against Karasuno. Before the game started Bokuto pointed right at you and yelled, "Hey, y/l/n!" You flinched and looked up, awkwardly waving at him. "Practice with us later!"

You nodded and went back to your notes with a flushed face. Bokuto smugly stared at Tsukishima with his hands on his hips. He glared back when Tanaka playfully smacked him on the back. "Hey, you must feel really jealous that a third year is talking to y/n! It's okay, I feel the same with Kiyoko-chan!"

Nishinoya ran up to him when he heard this. He jumped up, exclaiming, "Don't give up! You can win!"

He glanced over to you and saw you writing in your notebook. You didn't hear anything. He sighed, though he didn't know whether it was in relief or frustration. "Why are you two always yelling?"

"Oh!" They both yelled. They put their index fingers to their mouths. "Shh!"

Later on you trudged over to the gym where the three third years and the tall blonde were practicing. You had spent the whole day taking notes on everyone's flaws and ways to improve on their weak points, then discussed what to add and take out of the list you made with Ukai.

You put your hand over your mouth as you yawned, taking a step inside and rubbing your eyes. "I'm here." They stopped what they were doing and greeted you back. "So what did you need me for?"

"We need eyes." Kuroo stated as walked over to you and guided you to a seat by holding your shoulders. "You need to let us know what we're doing wrong. Remember," he pointed to Bokuto. "Don't hold back on that owl airhead!"

Bokuto grinned at Akaashi and wacked him on the back. He sighed, saying, "Since this is to help Tsukishima with his techniques, you should focus on observing mainly him."

You smiled and nodded, getting a new page ready as you sat down. Tsukishima felt a twinge of both irritation and nervousness to have your focused attention. You tried your best not to forget everyone else and to take the best notes possible for everyone. You did good for a while, but once you wrote what you needed you eventually dozed off.

When they were done they realized you were asleep, the four of them staring at you and feeling bad once they realized how long they went on for. Kuroo nudged Tsukishima. "Carry her."

He looked at him like he was crazy. "What?"

"Oohh! That's not a bad idea!" Bokuto nodded.

Kuroo smirked. "If you want you could just wake her up. But then she'd have to walk into the cold night all the way over to the girl's rooms, which is a descent length walk. Then she'll be fully awake from the cold by the time she gets there, and then she'll have trouble sleeping. All because you weren't committed to helping her." He shrugged. "Who know you were this lazy? Especially when it comes to y/l/n. Maybe someone a little more open minded like Kageyama would be better for her."

He glared at the ground, with the statement clearly getting to him. Kageyama? Really? Why not someone actually kind like Yamaguchi, or even Hinata? He was an idiot but at least he wasn't Kageyama. It was almost like Kuroo was putting him below Kageyama.

He then bent down and carefully scooped you up, holding you close to try and not let the cold get to you once you two were outside. He was blushing madly at the situation. You were lighter than he thought.

Kuroo helped Tsukishima put his bag over his shoulder while trying not to disturb you. He only stared at you as he said, "Put my jacket over her."

Bokuto was about to say something, but Akaashi put his hand on his shoulder to stop him. Kuroo grinned and did what he was told. As soon as he stepped out and the cold hit, you nuzzled yourself into his shirt. His face felt hot and he inwardly sighed that nobody was out here to see him.

He was also glad that there wasn't anyone in the girl's cabin who was awake to see him, or so he thought. He didn't notice that Kiyoko was still awake. He set you down, taking his jacket away and putting the covers over you. He then left.

Tsukishima ate his breakfast a little faster than usual. He knew he'd be stiff and suspicious when he saw you, and he didn't want you asking questions about it. He was successful for a while until it was time for warm ups. Everyone was walking into the gym when you pulled him aside by gripping his hand. You waited until you were the only two outside.

"I have to go ins—"

He went dead silent when you quickly hugged his waist. "Thank you."

You stayed there for a few seconds before you gave him a gentle squeeze and went inside. He noticed that you didn't look at him at all and was grateful that you saved him the embarrassment.

While Karasuno was running one of their penalty laps, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi walked up to you with your notebook. "Oh, I left it in the gym! Thank you!"

You bowed respectfully. "We all took pictures of the notes you took of us." Akaashi said.

You smiled. "I hope it was helpful."

"You're very observant and can take good notes." Kuroo said. You grinned and blushed a bit.

"Hey!" Bokuto said. "You only noticed the bad things! Did you see all the awesome things about my techniques?"

You giggled and nodded. "I can tell you've built up your strength for a long time and everything about your hit shows dedication."

He grinned and put up his fists. "All right! I'm awesome! Hey hey hey!"

Kuroo looked at the Karasuno boys coming back, and he cupped his hand as if to be inconspicuous. "Hey, I'm not usually one to gossip, but I thought you should know what Tsukishima did for you last night."

Your face flushed once more. "Oh, Kiyoko senpai told me about it. Tsukki has his sweet moments."

"I wonder how many more sweet moments there would there be with him as a boyfriend." He smirked. Tsukishima never turned his head around so quickly. Some people from the team turned their heads as well.

Your face felt extremely hot as you cleared your throat. "Well then, I think you should just go for it and ask him out, since your so interested. Then maybe you could get some sweet moments yourself."

He did a loud and hardy laugh, crossing his arms. "I'll keep it in mind."

You jogged over to Kiyoko and started helping her lower the nets, and you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around but immediately backed up against the pole, quietly gasping as you did, when Tsukishima was bent and his face was right in front of you. "Um, hi."

He smirked. "You're welcome." He straightened up and left. You knew you had a goofy grin on, but you didn't care. You were smitten.

The next few days you were there with them at their nightly practice to jot down how they were improving and in what ways to improve. You did notice that Tsukishima has seemed sore, especially in his arms.

Hinata was eagerly discussing something with Bokuto and Kuroo when you pulled Tsukishima off to the side. He silently watched as you sat him down and disappeared for a bit before returning with an icepack. You wrapped it in a paper towel and sat down next to him.

"Give me an arm." He gave you his right arm and flinched when you put the ice pack on it.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping you." You rubbed the icepack on his arm for a bit. "Y'know, professional baseball players take ice baths so their whole bodies won't be sore. I can tell your arms are sore. So, I'm helping."

You set it down and began rubbing his arm, pressing down harder on the sore spots for it to rub them out. You then did the same on his other arm. He looked between you and what you were doing, though he made sure not to stare for too long.

He didn't want this time to go to waste, so he asked you questions about yourself. "Why do you care about the volleyball team?"

You comfortably smiled. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "Nobody knows much about you, and you're not stupid like Hinata, who blurt their whole life story out about being short."

You chuckled. "At first I figured it'd look good on a resume if it said that I was a manager of something. Then when I started actually attending I got invested. It's got it's ups and downs. I met you."

He scoffed and smirked. "Is that part of the ups or the downs?"

"That's a secret. Can't be making enemies in a club where I'll be staying." You teased. "It'll be awkward."

When the three third years in the gym noticed the two of you talking, they had Lev substitute for the practice game Tsukishima was supposed to be a part of to give you two more time.

The next day was the day off. Students were allowed to go out to the block next to the camp in groups of at least 3 people. You, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi went out together to get away from the place of constant work.

When two certain third years saw the three of you, they looked at each other and nodded. Kuroo whispered something to Kenma, who called Hinata over to their group. Bokuto then said something to Hinata, and Tsukishima noticed that they were all staring. He hoped in annoyance it wasn't something stupid they were planning.

"Yamaguchi~!" Hinata yelled. "Come over here! We need to talk!"

He turned to you two for silent permission. "Go ahead, we can text you later." You said.

Right when Yamaguchi left, the tall blonde suddenly said, "C'mon." He already began walking, and you jogged up and followed him.

There was comfortable silence while you two walked together, with you only speaking until you both stopped at a frozen yogurt shop. He tugged on your wrist and practically dragged you inside from the tight grip he had. "Why'd we come here?"

"You said you liked frozen yogurt. Get a small cup so you don't ruin your dinner." He sounded very nonchalant as you both stepped inside.

You chuckled and grabbed two small cups, handing one to him. "Well thank you for listening."

While you happily piled on toppings, Tsukishima simply stuck with just vanilla. He looked disturbingly at your cup. "That's so overly sweet."

"That's so overly plain." You got to the front and took out your wallet, but by the time you got out your money he had beaten you in paying. "You're being extra nice to me today."

He looked away. "Is that a problem?"

"Nope. I'm just curious about the reason why."

"Grab your cup, there's a line." You nodded and decided to just let him ignore the question. When you turned around you flinched, staring at Kuroo, Bokuto and the other four seated in the shop. You nudged your tall friend and heard him sigh when he himself turned around. "C'mon."

You both went around to the back of the building and sat on the ground together. "Thank you for this."

"Since you helped me with my arms yesterday, I figured I should repay you." It was a white lie, one that he didn't think would hurt your feelings a bit.

"Oh." Your face went blank as you stared into your cup. "I wonder if anyone would do this for me if there was no reason to."

You continued to eat your gift as he looked at you with an almost offended expression. He was being nice to you, and you fantasize about romances with other people?

He heard you sigh. You then looked at him and smiled. "Hey Tsukki, can I do something?"

"What?"

"I wanna see how you look without your glasses."

He gave you a dirty look. "Why?"

"Just cause. Please?" You grinned and scooted closer to him.

He stared at you for a second. "I guess that's okay."

You grinned and quickly set down your cup, shifting your body towards him. Your faces were inches apart as it was, but you ignored that fact, curiosity taking over your rationality. Tsukishima's eyes fluttered shut for a moment as you took them off.

"Wow." Was all you said, in a lighthearted tone.

He furrowed his eyebrows. Since you were at such a close proximity to him, he could see your smile and face clearly, though everything else was blurry. "What?"

"You're still just as handsome without the glasses."

You couldn't tell if it was the close proximity, or the sugar, or his kindness today, or that fact that he was hot without his glasses, but you leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. You both stayed in silence for a few seconds, and the lack of a response from him caused embarrassment and anxiety to creep up.

"I'm sorry! I should've known you didn't feel the same way and—"

He grabbed your cheek and kissed you back passionately. You put your arms around his neck and held onto his glasses. You had to pull back to catch your breath as Tsukishima stared at you. He resisted the urge to chuckle at your dorky smile. "You taste sweet."

"You taste like vanilla." You put the glasses back on him, Tsukishima giving you a small smile as you put your hands back around his neck. "So would this be like our first date?"

He rolled his eyes before smirking. "Of course not. Our first date isn't going to have any idiots trying to spy on us, and it won't be on the ground behind a building. You should take the start of our relationship more seriously."

You giggled, pressing a little peck to his nose. "I'm sorry. I'm kinda new at having a relationship, so I guess I'm just gonna have to blindly follow your lead."

You chuckled at your own joke as your partner brought you into another passionate kiss.

---

Author's Note: I'm sorry if I wrote Kuroo, Bokuto and Akaashi terribly. Idk I love all three of them and my writing is kinda trash

[mindynichole]

Okay...so it’s time to tackle Episode 10x18 and why it didn’t bother me that much.

Despite getting to watch TWD Season 10B early thanks to a forgotten AMC Premiere account, I waited an entire 24 hours before I watched 10x18 out of fear of the inevitable. 

And by now I’m sure you know exactly what I’m referring too.

However, after I did finally break down and watch it Friday evening, I was surprised that it didn’t bother me nearly as much as I thought it would. 

Some might say that’s just because of the tinfoil hat now firmly placed tightly around my head after the previous episode convinced me even more Beth Greene might just show up out of the blue one day soon to a TWD universe production near you. Okay, I’ll give you that! 

However, there are very logical reasons why I don’t feel the least bit threatened by this new woodland harlot, Leah, (I’m just joking, geesh) and I’m going to tell you what they are!

Before I begin, I want to make clear that while I’m not thrilled about the idea of Daryl being in a romantic relationship with anyone but Beth, I didn’t really even hate Leah but saw her instead as what I believe she was meant to be. On her own in another situation she probably would be a great character. However, when I have mentioned in the past that I liked this episode, I was mainly referring to the parts with Car*l. Not because I am petty and enjoyed the fight, but because I think these are conversations that Daryl and her need to be having. 

Nevertheless, here’s my take of 10X18. Consider yourself spoiler warned if you haven’t seen it yet.

Daryl was probably at the loneliest part of his life when Leah enters the picture.

Let’s take the time and set this scene a moment... 

At the point in the story when Leah first appears, Daryl has been wandering the woods for three freaking years looking for any sign of Rick’s body. 

While Daryl is away, everything he knows has changed and life has just continued to carry on without him for everyone else he loves. Rick and Carl are both long gone. Carol is busy being a wife and mother. Michonne has pretty much shut off Alexandria from everybody including Team family. Maggie left for parts unknown with Georgie and has taken little Hershel with her. 

Literally every single thing that Rick and Team Family ever tried to build during this apocalypse is shattered and everything the man has ever loved is gone. 

We also can’t forget that the person Daryl would have naturally clung to during this sad time happened to “die” before he ever stepped foot into Virgina. Therefore, Daryl is left with absolutely no one. It’s a damn miracle that he didn’t off himself and might have - had he not been so obsessed in finding Rick’s body.

Leah is Daryl’s exact mirror in female form. 

So he meets Leah after accidentally breaking into her cabin and almost immediately we can see she is literally like him looking into a mirror. Now, I’ve already read many people trying to compare her to Car*l and even Beth and while I do get what they are saying, I also disagree. This lady is no other than the female version of Daryl Dixon. He has surely found his exact match in her.

Here’s how we figure that out:

Leah is tough as nails but obviously has a heart because she doesn’t immediately kill Daryl for busting into her cabin and ultimately lets him go.

You come to find out she had abusive parents and a very shitty childhood just like Daryl.

You find out her life sucked until she found her group - who had given her not only hope but finally a real family.

Like Daryl, her life also greatly improved during the apocalypse.

It takes Leah a very long time to trust Daryl enough to even tell him her name.

You find out she had a son who was born very much like Judith was. Her “sister” died giving birth to him, causing her to raise him as her own.

Something horrible happens to the group (horde of walkers) and everyone else gets killed. She takes her son and runs to the cabin only to realize that he had been bitten and ultimately dies. 

It highly implied Leah blames herself for what happened to her family.

Like Daryl, at this point in the story Leah has lost everything she has ever loved, has sought refuge in the woods, and is completely alone.

Yet, in no way, shape, or form was Leah ever supposed to be a replacement for Beth. Instead, I believe she actually demonstrates why Bethyl worked so well.

While I’m okay with the character of Leah, she’s no Beth. Not even close. As I stated before, she is just like Daryl and that’s really the problem.

Because we need to understand the thing that made Bethyl work so well was their fundamentally different personalities fitting together like peanut butter and jelly - both perfectly fine on their own but together making the perfect combination. 

And TPTB spent a lot of time and effort back in the day showing us how much this was so.

While sometimes opposite people clash, we were shown that their different natures surprisingly completed each other very well. In other words, they were each other’s yin and yang. This was most obvious with Daryl helping Beth realize her own strength and Beth showing Daryl how to move forward. However, I could create an entire meta...and there are many that already exist out there...listing countless examples of how we saw them bringing the best out in each other. The combination of this along with their utmost (even sometimes brutal) honesty, shared history, and absolute trust in each other, created a foundation for a very healthy relationship.

In contrast, two people with nearly identical personalities and the same exact kind of unhealed trauma like Leah and Daryl, are usually not good life partners because they can hinder and get in the way of each other’s forward progress. 

While you can understand why these kinds of people gravitate together and form bonds over shared experience, resulting romantic relationships can often be rocky. Many times the shared trauma can result in both partners having the exact same kinds of problems with trust, communication, and reckless expression of feelings. There is nobody in the relationship to model different kinds of behaviors and ideas since both tend to have the same life experiences to draw upon. Instead, each serves to the other as a living testament to and as confirmation of why their negative thoughts and behaviors are correct. 

In other words, there is nobody there to throw the life preserver when both people are drowning. Nobody to even suggest to either partner a different way of doing things. 

Also, when the relationship’s foundation is based solely on shared trauma, the trauma itself can become the only thing holding the two partners together. 

This is why I never thought Daryl and Car*l would ever make good romantic partners. However, at least they have different types of personalities and kinds of trauma. Car*l is just...well Car*l - a force all on her own - and there’s nothing to suggest she ever experienced abuse in childhood. However, Leah being an exact carbon copy of Daryl gave that relationship even less of a chance.

And what I have just described seems to be exactly what we really do see happen between Daryl and Leah in Episode 10x18. I could list various examples but for time’s sake, I’m choosing not to because I am sure you can see it too - at least now that I’ve brought it up.

Just know I also believe this is why NR seemed to imply the relationship was not good in earlier preview shows.

Daryl flat out told Leah he didn’t know if he could choose her. 

As many others have already pointed out throughout the weekend, I believe the biggest difference between Daryl’s reaction to Leah and his reaction to Beth is the simple fact he really didn’t seem to  want to stay in that cabin with Leah forever. He doesn’t even seem all that upset about it either until he starts talking with Car*l later.

This drastically contrasts with the “Oh” scene with Beth. Hell, Daryl didn’t even care if the looney person who had been tending the funeral home and dressing up corpses came back! He wanted nothing more than to stay there and live happily ever after with her. There was no hesitation. 

I would go as far as to say Beth is the only person able to completely divert Daryl's attention away from the rest of his family - much like she did when he spotted the Grady car and began his pursuit. However, Beth would never even ask such a thing - because not only is it her family too - but also because Beth was much too unselfish to let Daryl make those kinds of choices.

So you might ask yourself why he changed his mind in the end and made him decide to go back to Leah?

I believe he makes this choice because of the conversation with Car*l. She basically tells him that everyone else has found their place and it is time for him to find his place too. It begins to slowly eat at Daryl how they have all moved on without him. It’s important to remember that by this time in the story, he’s pretty much done scouring the river for Rick. He’s already checked out that “one last place” he hadn’t been. So now he’s beginning to ponder Car*l’s words and wondering where his place is now? Where does he go from here? It’s logical to think maybe he’s supposed to be in those woods with Leah after all.

Daryl and Leah’s relationship doesn't seem to leave much of a lasting impression or effect on Daryl.

Don’t get me wrong, I believe Daryl most definitely cared about Leah. Yet, we can’t forget how we first found Daryl all those years later after the time jump in Episode 9X6.

If you remember right, Daryl still wasn’t doing all that great. His relationship with Leah apparently does absolutely nothing to change his outlook on anything. 

In comparison, we all know what just a few short weeks - perhaps a couple of months - in the woods with Beth Greene does to Daryl Dixon. It changes his character profoundly! 

Daryl might have went back to Leah at the time...BUT he made it crystal clear to C*rol that he knows where he belongs NOW. That’s what the entire fight between them was really about.

There is a line that Daryl spits out during his fight with Car*l that sums up exactly why he wasn’t able to give up everything and stay with Leah. He tells Car*l that he knows where his place is…and he’s referring to being with his family at Alexandria. He’s angry that she doesn’t seem to understand that it’s where her place is as well.

AK later points this line out on TTD as important too. In fact, she literally states that his relationship with Leah is purely in the past and they will not go there again. It is rare for a showrunner to flat out proclaim something like this. It means she felt it was important for the audience to understand that this was done.She also points out that the fight is really about how sick Daryl is of Carol running away every time things get extremely difficult.

I would go a step further and say that Daryl is probably projecting what he now realizes was going on with himself when he was wandering the woods and choosing to stay there with Leah all those years ago. He’s upset with himself for having done so and he’s upset with Car*l that she has yet to have come to the same conclusion.

Ps: Be on the lookout for another post - a part two of sorts - later this week detailing all the things I’m still tinkering in my mind about this episode! ;)

Until then, keep calm and Bethyl on! She’s coming soon...

[creativeskullcreations]

Here’s a one shot that’s crossing over @floofy-grumpuses human OC Nikki, with my own OC Kim from my not-yet-written fic Secret of the Snax.

INFO ABOUT KIM:

Spent the last two years in a hospital after a very traumatic incident.

Was found by the side of the road by Floofty.

Does not have amnesia like Nikki.

Is ten years old.

Is an orphan(parents died in previously mentioned incident).

In the original concept Kim couldn’t understand the Grumpus language, but that’s been changed here for obvious reasons.

Any other info is technically spoilers, but I am willing to share if asked. I also have a few other one-shots/scene snippets/concepts I can post if there’s any interest.

Kim was excited, as Floofty never really took her anywhere. She loved the little lab area in Floofty's basement, but it was hard when you weren't allowed out of the house very often. Luckily, she was used to being confined, and it made going out that much more exciting.

"Where are we going? Are we gonna go see Snorpy and Chandlo? Chandlo said he'd show me how to make a basket from anywhere on the court next time I was over there!" She rambled, bouncing in her seat as Floofty got into the driver's side of their little car. They checked that she had actually buckled up before starting the car.

"Not this time, no. Instead we're going to visit a friend of mine, Professor Triffany Lottablog, and her husband. They adopted a child a while ago, and I feel like you two would be... companions."

"Oh. Like friends?" The ten year old asked excitedly, and Floofty cleared their throat.

"It's a possibility." In truth, Floofty just wanted to know how the two aliens would react to each other. They seemed close in age, at least, and that usually meant a good chance at children becoming friends, at least for Grumpuses. Neither they nor Triffany knew enough about humans to know if it would work the same for them, however. There was always the possibility there would be an immediate fight.

But, the scientist felt guilty that they couldn't let Kim roam like she obviously wanted to. Their home was just too close to civilization for that. But the Troubleham farm was far outside of town, yet closer than their brother's home. It was the perfect place for Kim to run around at.

Luckily, the drive didn't take too long, and they soon spotted the fields Wambus had been planting his pilfered sauce in. Another couple of minutes of driving and the small little farmhouse came into view, with it's faded green paint and flowers under the windows. It was quaint, and Floofty hated the sight of it.

Floofty parked next to Wambus' truck, and the two got out as Triffany came out to greet them. To Floofty's relief, Kim seemed to be in a more outgoing mood today and didn't hide behind them at the approaching Grumpus.

"Well hey there you two. I was wondering when ya would show up." The green Grumpus, Triffany Kim deduced, greeted them.

"We are exactly when I told you we'd be here, Professor Lottablog." Floofty coolly informed her, but was waved off as she turned to lead them to the house.

"So ya are." Was all she said as they walked up the gravel path. Kim followed close, but kept her eyes on the ground in case she spotted a cool rock. She had grabbed a fanny pack before they'd left the house, and needed stuff to put in it, like rocks. Floofty didn't have a lot of pretty things in their house, and Kim intended to fix that.

"Oh, Nikki's been so excited for this visit since we told her." Triffany was telling them. "It even got her to clean her room."

"Fascinating." Floofty sounded anything but fascinated. "Where is she, by the way? I expected her to be here greet us as well."

"Oh well, she may have gotten a little too excited, ya know? So Wambus took her out back to help in the garden and work some energy off."

"Ah. Understandable. Though Kim doesn't have that problem." Floofty told her, a smug tinge to their voice. Triffany frowned, but didn't answer.

'Ya just keep on believing that, Dr. Fizzlebean.' She kept her opinions to herself though as she took them around the house, however. Floofty would find out soon enough that every child had that problem.

They got to the back of the house, where they spotted the large, blue Grumpus leaning against the fence, looking up into a tree. The sight of Wambus turning to greet them cause did Kim to duck behind Floofty, peering out around them suspiciously.

Wambus fixed Floofty with an equally suspicious glare, barely giving the human girl a glance. "You'd better not be plannin' somethin'." He growled out.

"Oh please, I wouldn't do anything I thought would endanger them." Floofty replied, voice carefully even. "But if you're that against this, I can take Kim, and we can leave right now."

A brief staring match ensued before Wambus turned back to the tree. "Nikki! Come on down here!" He called loudly, startling Kim back behind Floofty. The scientist reached back and gave her head a quick pat as Nikki dropped out of the tree.

"You let her climb that?!" Triffany exclaimed quietly as the girl made her way over.

"What? She likes climbing." Wambus whispered back. "She didn't want to do anything else."

The human ran over, slowing when she spotted Floofty, and stopping so she was slightly behind Wambus and Triffany. Kim peeked out just enough that Nikki caught sight of her. But, it wasn't enough for Floofty, who picked the girl up by the back of her oversized shirt and dropped her down in full view of everyone. When Kim made to try and hide again, they put their paws on her shoulders, keeping her in place.

"Nikki," They started. "this is Kim. My... ward." There, that was a safe enough word for it. "We believe that she is the same species you are."

"Hmmm." Nikki walked closer, now assured that Floofty wasn't here for her. "She does look like it, I guess."

"Excellent." Floofty shoved Kim at Nikki. "Go have fun. I have to talk with your parents."

"Uh, okay then." Nikki grabbed the smaller girl's hand and tugged her towards the house. "Come on, I'll show you my room."

Kim followed, but not without several glances back at the Grumpuses, who were slowly making their way after the children as they talked. She lost sight of them when they entered the house

Nikki led her through the house and to a bedroom. It was definitely smaller than Kim's old room in Floofty's lab, but a fairly good sized one besides that. It had a very comfortable looking bed, and several bookshelves, along with a chest. A few toys, and books were scattered around the floor, like Nikki had been called away from playing.

While Nikki gathered a few  of the toys up, Kim stood by the door and looked around the room. "So," she started, quietly, "what do you usually do around here?"

"Oh, just... stuff. I like to help Dad out in the garden, and climb trees, and Dad promised he'd show me how the tractor works when I'm old enough." She explained, using some of the books to set up a house-like shape.

"Dad...?" The big blue one, maybe? Kim couldn't imagine him being anything but scary. "That's... neat."

"What do you do? You came here with Floofty, right? I bet they do all sorts of weird things."

"I mean... Not really? They gave me food, and a place to sleep. Sometimes I take notes for them, but mostly they give me puzzles and books to read."

Nikki stared at her. "That's weird." She said bluntly. "Dad never makes me do puzzles, but Mom is making me go through school, but it's home-school and I get to go outside when all my work's done, so that's okay." She made another "building" out of some nearby blocks

"Oh..." Kim kneeled next to the older girl as she laid out a scene with the dolls. Most of them were Grumpus shaped, but one was a fairly accurate replica of what Nikki looked like. She chose a deep purple Grumpus doll, while Nikki grabbed one of the blue ones, in order to start the story.

The played that scene for long enough that it turned from a simple trip to the mall, to an epic fight with a dragon(represented by a model Nikki cobbled together from a book and tinfoil). They played together until Triffany came to get them for dinner. The girls followed her to the dining room, where Wambus and Floofty were already seated. Kim climbed into the chair next to Floofty, staring suspiciously at the dishes already full of food.

"Is that cooked all the way?" She asked as Floofty served her some of the casserole. She hadn't seen it get made, which meant anything could be in there. She did not trust that casserole.

"Oh of course! Wouldn't be a casserole without spending a long time in the oven." Triffany told her, but Kim kept her suspicious glower. Wambus meanwhile looked almost pained at his wife's words, and was quick to correct her on casserole making.

While the others got caught up in conversation about cooking, they missed Kim standing in her chair and lifting her fork over her head. Without a sound, she stabbed the casserole, hard enough that it splattered against the table cloth. Nikki watched, shocked, as she did it a second and a third time, but the adults were all unsurprised.

Floofty just sighed and finally took the fork away, leaving Kim to eat the now mutilated casserole with a spoon. When she tried to stab it again anyways, the scientist caught her wrist and forced her to sit down. "Stop trying to murder your meal. Just eat it, it's fine." And Kim finally settled down, digging into the "casserole" with her spoon.

Not that she ate a lot, however. Everyone else finished their food, but she left a lot on her plate. Nikki felt jealous, as her parents always made her to clear her plate before dessert, but Floofty just asked if they could borrow a Tupperware to take it home with them. Clearly, they were used to this sort of thing, and so was Kim as she didn't seem upset at not having dessert. She seemed completely uninterested in it, in fact, which Nikki found really weird.

She didn't say anything about it, though, and dinner finished without anymore incidents. While Nikki got up to help her mom gather up the dishes, Kim stayed seated beside Floofty, writing something down on a notepad the scientist had produced.

"Mom, can we go play outside?" Nikki asked when all the plates had been deposited in the sink. Triffany didn't even hesitate before patting the girl on the head with a smile.

"Oh, of course, dear. Just don't leave the yard, okay?" She instructed. "And come right back inside when it starts gettin' dark."

"Okay Mom. Kim, come on! We're gonna go play outside!" She led Kim out the backdoor to the yard where they were before. The sun was getting low, but it wasn't quite sunset yet, giving them plenty of time to play.

Nikki took her to where there was a ball and makeshift basket to throw it in, and they took turns throwing it in. This was followed by seeing how high each of them could throw the ball, and then how far from the basket they could still get it in.

The adults watched them through the window as they cleaned the dishes, Floofty packing Kim's food into a container for later. She may be good at faking it, but Floofty could tell she was hungry. She just... didn't like eating unless she'd heated the food up herself, first.

Or watched it be made from start to finish. Every meal Floofty made for them involved trying to work around the tiny human. Even when it was just a microwave meal or leftovers, Kim could be found with her face almost pressed against tiny window, watching the food cook poorly.

"Oh, well, the girls seem to be getting along real nice." Triffany observed. "I knew this would be a good idea, ey Wamby?" She elbowed her husband, who just gave a grunt in response.

"Indeed, this outing proved fruitful." Floofty agreed. "Perhaps we should schedule another such day, so they can play together again."

"Well, I don't see why not." Triffany shot her friend a smile. "Maybe some time next week?"

"Perhaps. I shouldn't have any particularly time sensitive experiments going then." They paused to think, running through a mental list to make sure. "I'll probably be leaving her with you a lot more often, either way. Summer break is almost over, and I'll be starting my new position at the local school."

"Oh, Floofty, congratulations. Isn't that nice, Wamby?" Another uninterested grunt, but mostly cause he was watching the girls rather than paying attention to the conversation. Triffany just sighed. "Don't mind him. He's been worried about Nikki since she started climbing the trees again. Not like we can stop her once she gets up far enough, of course."

"Indeed." Floofty watched out the window for a moment, as the girls took turns throwing the ball upwards. "Hopefully Kim won't learn such things from your daughter."

"Oh honey, don't count on it." Triffany warned them half with sympathy. Such dangerous acts spread like a disease through children, and she had no doubt that Floofty would be finding Kim climbing things soon enough.

The conversation turned to more adult topics as they finished cleaning up and the sun set outside. Wambus turned on the porch light as the shadows started to grow, so Nikki would know it was almost time to come inside.

They did after a few minutes, Nikki chattering excitedly while Kim went over to Floofty, dragging their old fanny pack behind her. When the scientist lifted it, they found it surprisingly heavy.

"What did you put in here?" They asked bluntly, though honestly curious. Perhaps it was a dead animal the girls had found? They did need a few more subjects for their experiments...

"Rocks." Kim answered just as bluntly. Triffany hid an amused snort as Floofty unzipped the bag and, yep, rocks. Gravel from the driveway, to be precise. Nikki popped over and dumped a few more in to Floofty's shock.

"I see." Was their only answer. Kim just took the bag back and slung it over a shoulder, then climbed up on the couch and leaned tiredly against the purple Grumpus. Triffany saw them pat her head, smoothing out the short, dark hair. They noticed her watching and snatched their paw back like they'd been burned.

She thought about saying something, but instead politely ignored the action. She turned back to Nikki, who was telling them about the rock castle they'd built in the driveway.

"We'll have to get a picture in the morning." Wambus told her, ruffling her hair.

"More than one! Kim wants a picture of it too." She told him seriously, and he glanced at Floofty, who stared back stoically.

"Eh, sure. We can do that." He ignored the scientist's eyes boring into him and turned to his wife. "Any idea where the camera is?"

"I'll dig it out tomorrow." Triffany told him. Nikki bounced in place excitedly.

"I can help with that!" She said, and Wambus chuckled at her enthusiasm.

Floofty cleared their throat suddenly, standing up from their spot on the couch. "It is high time that Kim and I left for home." They announced, picking up the smaller girl. She jolted sleepily, briefly waking from where she'd been dozing, but otherwise didn't protest the sudden movement.

"Bye Kim!" Nikki waved from where she stood next to Wambus. Kim had, sadly, already dozed back off by then but Nikki didn't really mind. She turned to her Dad. "She's gonna come back, right?"

"Of course we'll return." Floofty almost scoffed at the childish question. "It won't be tomorrow, but you will eventually see Kim again."

"Okay." Nikki waved again, and Floofty sighed, but didn't wave back. Instead they followed Triffany as she walked them to the door, chatting as the two of them tried to figure out another play-date.

Nikki turned to her Dad. "Why didn't Kim eat? She just told me that she "couldn't trust the food"."

Wambus hesitated. They all knew why Kim had... issues with food, but it didn't feel like his place to explain why. Especially with Floofty's growing theories on just where, or maybe when, Kim and Nikki had come from. So he just ruffled the girl's hair. "She'll explain it when she's ready to. Now, it's almost time for bed, so why don't you go get ready?"

"Aaaww, can't I stay up tonight? I feel too excited to sleep!" She was bouncing in place, and though she looked wide awake he could tell she was holding back a yawn.

"Yeah. I wasn't born yesterday kid. Go brush yer teeth." With a heavy sigh the human bounced off towards the bathroom, and Wambus stood as Triffany came back in.

"Well, I think that went well. Don't you?" She asked, hands on her hips. She looked rather pleased at how things turned out, though Wambus didn't share the sentiment.

"I still don't trust them." He admitted, watching out the window as the small car made it's way down the drive. "It feels like they're planning something."

Triffany sighed. "Just give them a chance, Wamby. Kim's a sweet kid, and Floofty's really tryin'. Besides, Nikki seemed to like her."

Wambus didn't answer, just stoically stared out the window. Just because Nikki liked someone, didn't mean he had to trust them. She liked Gramble, after all, though he ended up not being so bad. Triffany just sighed after a minute of this.

"Well, either way, she's coming back next week. So I suggest gettin' used to it." He grunted, and she just patted his arm sympathetically. "Now, let's go make sure Nikki actually brushed her teeth just time."

[lakesandquarries]

Baby Shoes - Chapter 5

Bubby has been a doctor at Black Mesa for 20 years, living there for 50. He’s been bouncing around from project to project, working on whatever needs most help. He doesn’t have any opinions on his work or his coworkers or anything like that, preferring to keep to himself.

Then he meets Black Mesa’s newest project.

AKA: Bubby is Benrey’s dad au.

title from “Baby Shoes” by Bad Books.

thank u to my friend gordon for beta reading even after i threatened to steal his blood <3 ilu bitch

AO3 Link

Bubby had forgotten about the tinfoil until he walks into Zeki’s office. She’s ripping it off her desk, a few hairs slipping from her careful bun, and Bubby has to hide his smile behind his hand.

“Did you have something to do with this?” she demands, throwing a ball of tinfoil on the floor. 

“I’ve been with the subject all day. You can check the cameras, if you want.”

“I just might,” Zeki warns. She pulls another sheet off her chair and collapses into it. “So. Where are we moving you? The tube is all ready.”

“B-22,” Bubby says. “Near the break room. The L-shaped one.”

“The storage room?”

“It’s been years since it’s stored anything but dust.”

Zeki frowns, ripping the tinfoil off a pen. “You don’t need to do this, you know.”

“You offered, didn’t you? A real scientist is willing to try new things.”

She grits her teeth. “I’ll get it cleared with -”

“Aren’t you the department head?”

There’s a pause. Bubby doesn’t look away from Zeki, pale blue eyes staring into green. 

“Fine,” she spits. “I’ll ask the cleaning crew to clear it out.”

Bubby smiles. “I’ll start packing my things.”

He turns on his heel, leaving Zeki to her paperwork and her tinfoil covered office.

Dekkard’s back in the breakroom, sat in the corner eating his doritos. “They are stale,” he informs Bubby as he sits down across from him.

“Zeki approved the room.”

Dekkard drops the bag. “She did?”

“Very begrudgingly, I might add. Though I think at least some of her frustration was due to the tinfoil covering every available surface.”

Dekkard beams at him. “Today has truly been a wonderful day.”

“I’ll miss you after she kills you.” Bubby reaches across the table, grabbing one of Dekkard’s doritos. They’re stale, and he doesn’t even like chips, but he hasn’t eaten since this morning. Dekkard nudges the bag closer to Bubby, and before he realizes it, the bag is empty. “Alright, well, I have other work to get back to.”

Dekkard frowns. “I think you mean you have lunch to get back to.”

“I don’t have time for that. I need-”

“To take a break.”

Bubby huffs. “I’m not going to let myself be lectured by someone half my age.”

“I’m not lecturing you! I’m just saying, you seem kinda stressed, and I was thinking of heading over to the cafeteria to get something more substantial. I thought maybe you’d wanna come with.”

“To the cafeteria? Absolutely not.”

“It’s not like there’s somewhere else we can get food,”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. Come with me.” He doesn’t wait for Dekkard, standing up and leaving, though the sound of footsteps behind him means Dekkard must be following. “You know, cooking is a kind of science.”

“Is it?”

“I’d say so.” He leads Dekkard out of the Biological Research wing, down a flight of stairs. “And I think someone high up agreed with me, once.” The area they’re in was something, once, but now it’s abandoned. The lights burst years ago, the only illumination left coming from the level above.

“Did you bring me out here to kill me?” Dekkard asks, picking his way through the room. 

“If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead. Here, this way.” It takes Bubby a moment to pry the door open, the hinges stiff from disuse. “I have no idea what this used to be, but. No one ever comes here.”

It was likely a lab of some sort - of course it was, that’s what Black Mesa does - but it was surprisingly easy to turn it into a kitchen. There’s a makeshift stove, no source of fire since Bubby can make that himself but just something to hold the flames. Scales and flasks serve as something like measuring cups, and he’s stolen various blades from around the facilities, along with any else he can get his hands on. It’s messy, but it’s serviceable. 

“I try to keep it decently stocked here, but it can be tricky to find ingredients. But I’m sure you’ll find anything we can make down here leagues better than the garbage they serve in the cafeteria.”

“Did you make this?” Dekkard asks, poking at a burner. “Shit, maybe you really are the Ultimate Lifeform or whatever. This is - I’ll admit it, this is clever.”

“I’m glad someone recognizes my genius.” He crosses the room, over to the makeshift freezer and his stolen microwave. “Do not tell anyone about this, though. I will kill you.”

“Secret’s safe with me.” 

“I don’t have the ingredients for anything too complicated. How do you feel about pasta? I’ve got some frozen pasta sauce I can heat up.”

Dekkard has made his way to the table. It was about to be thrown out when Bubby stole and repaired it all on his own. There’s only two chairs, but they at least are in good shape. “That sounds incredible.” He collapses into a chair, laying his head on the table. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten real food? Everything in the cafeteria tastes like cardboard.”

“I’m familiar,” Bubby says, getting out a pot. He lights the burner with a snap of his fingers, enjoying how Dekkard’s eyebrows raise up into his hairline.

He sits down across from Dekkard as he waits for the water to boil, drumming his fingers on the table. Dekkard keeps staring at the pot, then at Bubby.

“Is something wrong? You’re staring.”

“Have you really been here your whole life?” Dekkard asks. Bubby sighs.

“Yes.”

“You’ve never - I mean you’ve been outside, right?”

“Once or twice.”

“Sorry, that - that’s a rude question, huh?”

“A bit, yes.” The water sounds like it’s bubbling, so Bubby takes it as an excuse to get up. Dekkard remains seated. “Is there a reason you’re asking this?”

“Just thinking about - about Benrey.”

Bubby adds the pasta to the pot, stirring it. “Ah.”

“I’m not gonna try and say I get it, exactly, but I think I’ve got an idea of what’s going on here. And I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, or anything, but -”

“I know what I’m doing, Dekkard.” He doesn’t have to turn to imagine the look on Dekkard’s face, one eyebrow raised and the other flat. “Yes, I’ll admit, I might be...attached. But I’m not an idiot, alright? I’ve heard all the stories.”

“Zeki tell you about Dr. Tipton?”

“She was trying to scare me. I’ve had my fair share of encounters with him. Whatever Benrey did, I’m sure he deserved it.”

Dekkard’s quiet for a moment. When Bubby turns, he’s staring at the pasta, hand resting on his chin. 

“I can see the gears in your brain trying to work,” Bubby says, turning back.

“You think they’re like you.”

“They are like me.” He continues stirring, directing all his focus into the movements of his arm. “They didn’t even have a name. I can’t - I can do something, here. I can’t just sit by and ignore this when I can do something.”

No one ever did anything for him. He’d spent seventeen years in that god forsaken tube before anyone had even considered letting him out, and it was another twelve after that before he was allowed any scrap of freedom. Even now, his autonomy is challenged constantly, by scientists half his age with a fraction of his knowledge.

Benrey doesn’t even have the luxury of being a valued experiment. Based on what Zeki’s said, Benrey’s only kept around because nothing seems to kill them, and they’re interesting to study. 

If Bubby can do something - anything - then he has to. 

“Hey,” Dekkard says. “Uh. I think the pot is on fire.”

“Oh, motherfucker.” Bubby shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath, willing the flames to die down. “I was...distracted.”

“Can’t help but feel like that was my fault.”

“A little.”

“...sorry.”

It’s nothing unsalvageable, at least. The noodles are a bit too soft, but that’s fine. 

He grabs the jar of sauce out of the freezer, heating it in his hands. He can feel Dekkard watching him as he scoops the noodles into bowls, pouring sauce over each serving. The air’s gone tense.

“Sorry,” Dekkard mumbles again as Bubby passes him a fork. He sighs.

“It’s fine. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Look, I might be underqualified, but I’m not stupid. I see how Zeki and all the other guys talk to you. I don’t wanna be like that.”

“I put this area together five years ago,” Bubby says, spinning his noodles around his fork. “You are the first person I’ve ever invited down here.”

“Is this your way of saying we’re friends?”

Bubby purses his lips. “I don’t think I’d go that far.”

Dekkard snorts. “Alright. Acquaintances.”

“Coworkers.”

“Oh, that’s harsh.”

“Shut up and eat your pasta.”

Dekkard does, for once, shut up. He eats like it’s the first meal he’s had in decades, like some kind of rabid animal, and then leans back against his chair.

“That was the best meal I’ve had since I started working here.”

“Well, if you behave, maybe there’ll be more in the future.”

“Can’t believe you’d stoop to bribes.”

It’s...nice, Bubby thinks. Sitting down here, eating and joking with someone. Maybe Dekkard was right when he called them friends.

Still won’t admit it out loud, though. He has some dignity left.

[ihatetaxes99]

THE YAKUZA AND THE PHOENIX - A BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA FANFICTION

"See, the problem with people like you," Commented the cool, sanitised yet utterly terrifying voice of Kai Chisaki as he kneeled down just in the very corner of the hero's peripheral vision. "Is that you relied far too much on that disgusting disease that plagues every last vein in your Godforsaken body. Maybe if you had just thought ahead a little… Has this illness robbed you of your senses, too? Left you as useless as a newborn? Not that it matters. It's far too late by now for any part of you to begin thinking about what could have been. I mean, just take a look around." He raised one hand to adjust his mask, while using the other to gesture to the scene around the two, one filled with flame and destruction. "If you had thought to bring police, tried to corner me with rifles, well you might have had some sort of success. I'm not stupid enough to resist against live bullets. But no. Your sickening Quirk has left you with such delusions that you thought you could stand to take me on alone."

The young woman's eyes filled with nothing but pure steel as she looked up at him. There was no fear to be found in the glare she delivered the man known as Overhaul, in spite of the terror bubbling in the pits of her stomach, constantly threatening to rise to the top. But she would not let it. Not in front of this Chisaki bastard, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he had won.

"No words?" The man sighed, poking her lightly in the head as if to provoke a reaction. "Like a kid who doesn't get their way. Stubborn to the end. What a pain you are. The worst kinds of people are the ones who don't realize they're infected. They have no true redemption in their future. It's kind of weird when you think about it. What a shame… Not that it's any of my concern. I'm more interested in just why you and your ridiculous headgear have been following me around all day. Do you have an answer for that?" He grabbed her by the back of the hair, and pulled her face up to look at his. "I'd prefer an answer as soon as possible, so I can minimise the amount of contact made with your disgusting body."

There was only one way the woman knew she could respond to this and that way landed directly on the suspected Yakuza's forehead. "Why would I tell you anything, asshole? You won't get anything out of the Phoenix."

The man actually audibly growled, like a feral wolf, as he slammed her head into the asphalt. She felt her nose break as blood streamed from it onto the road. It was probably one of the lesser injuries she had incurred that day. Chisaki got to his feet and produced a spotless handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his face of the hero's saliva. "How childish." His voice was full of pure, deep contempt. "How filthy. Were you never taught manners? Are you mentally deficient? Hmph. Not that I should expect any more from a hero who calls themselves the Phoenix. How cliché." With that, he returned to his kneeling position over her limp body, she practically felt his shadow drop over her as the smell of burning embers filled her nose. Were those sirens she heard? They were faint, but what else could they be? Were they coming in her direction? One ear was completely busted up, so she couldn't tell. Looking up to the man who supposedly went by Overhaul, her peripheral vision severely limited by her complete and total lack of a right eye, she found her mind drifting away to the beginning of the day. When things had seemed oh so simple. When she still had all her limbs and when life had generally been more preferable when contrasted against her current predicament.

When had it all gone so wrong?

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

"So, all I have to do is follow the bugger?" Twenty-three year old Misa Kawajiri enquired into her phone as she took small, meticulous sips from her large Coke, sitting atop a rooftop in the very heart of the city, occasionally reaching into the bag next to her to dig out a fry or two and jam them into her mouth. This was the life, no doubt about it. The young woman, who went by the heroic moniker of the Phoenix, was elated whenever she was sent on surveillance patrols by her agency. Most other pro heroes would consider such work to be beneath them, it mostly consisted of hounding tax evaders, low-rent rank-and-file grunts and conmen, there was almost certainly never a tang of excitement to be found. This was the reason most heroes preferred more interesting work and it was the reason why Kawajiri adored such jobs. For her, it was a chance to slow down, chill out and enjoy life at a bit of a slower pace than usual. She definitely was not above having time to unwind and take things at a more reasonable pace. Of course, today's surveillance was already beginning to sound more interesting. It had started out with monitoring some basement-dwelling Otaku who shared anti-hero sentiments on internet forums, so not exactly a thrill ride there, as evidenced by the fact that Misa had left halfway through to get herself a McDonald's. But her new target, as assigned to her by her employers at the agency…

"His name's Kai Chisaki." Rang the cool, clerical voice of Phoenix's supervisor. "Mid to late twenties, germaphobe. He isn't often seen out and about, instead residing largely in the Shie Hassaikai's compound."

"Hassaiaki?" The hero of the sky's ears perked up at that. "He's Yakuza?"

"As far as we know, yes. We can't trace back any records of a family, except for Kazama Chisaki, his uncle, who was also associated with the organization before his death, although not as a full member."

"Interesting…" The girl pondered. "So, why are we following him, then? The Hassaikai have a good reputation, right?" Her words were slightly muffled as she jammed more fries in her mouth at that moment than was probably reasonable.

"That they do, Phoenix. They're underground. There have been search warrants on the premises before, but nothing suspicious was turned up. They're a Yakuza group in name only right now, nothing worth worrying about. But Chisaki? He's different. You're going to be following him for reasons unrelated to his activity within the clan."

"Oh?" Misa cupped her free ear with her hand so that she could better hear the man on the other end of the phone.

"In short, we have reasons to believe he's been peddling Trigger behind the backs of his bosses. Obviously, I don't need to tell you about that."

She nodded, although that was a tad redundant, considering the voice on the other end could not see her. The experimental drug known for its Quirk-bolstering properties was nothing to trifle with, and it had only grown more popular in recent time. "Why do you think he's doing so?"

"Money, probably. Who knows with these criminal types? The point remains that we have reason to believe he's out and about today. I've sent you an image of him on your phone. Follow him, see what he's up to. When a hermit like him comes out of the woodwork, it can never be good. Not for anybody." And with that, her superior hung up, leaving Misa to her own thoughts. In being left this way, she dug her knees up tucked under her chin and sulked for a bit, confident that nobody could see her act in such a childish manner, taking the odd glance at the image. He was a shockingly handsome young fellow, with sharp yellow eyes, ruffled brown hair and a suit, he looked the part of any well-meaning businessman. The only weird aspect was the steampunk-esque plague doctor mask clamped around his mouth. She shrugged it off as probably having something to do with his Quirk, whatever that was.

"This sucks." She groaned as she reached for her helmet, which mostly served as a fancy shell to hold the visor that shielded her eyes from the wind. "I don't wanna have to pursue Yakuza drug dealers, it's just no good. Give me a fat, tinfoil hat loser ranting about conspiracies any day. Surveillance is supposed to be a break from the hard stuff. But nooo, it just has to be more of it, doesn't it?" She sighed, the air whistling over her lips, as she tossed aside her empty bag. Stretching upwards, allowing her skintight suit to hug her body, she felt her wings extend from her body. It was always a glorious sensation to be felt, the pure rush of it all. She adored it beyond belief, the best part of the job. With a cheeky grin, the young hero spread her arms…

… And let herself fall from the building's roof.

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

Filthy. The very lot of them, surrounded by filth and dirt and all manner of unpleasantries. It was enough to break young Kai Chisaki out in hives, it truly was. Absolutely repulsive. How horrendous to have to walk amongst the common people, all of them no doubt inflicted with that despicable illness. As he made his way down the crowded high street, bumping into the occasional commuter, he felt the irresistible urge to lift up the sleeve of his green coat and scratch at the lumps on his arm. Urgh. The very lot of them, disgusting. He was rapidly remembering why he vastly preferred to remain indoors. And yet, he had to do this. He couldn't entrust mere goons with carrying out the mission, not even the Eight Precepts of Death. This had to be done by him and him alone. He felt the cold metal rub against his stomach from the inside pocket of his coat. What depraved things that guns were. Alas, they were a necessary evil, and still far better than Quirks. As he walked, he had no clue of the eyes following him as he did so. Misa Kawajiri worked fast and had found him in mere minutes. Was he aware of this, he would almost have applauded her.

Key word: Almost.

"He's carrying some sort of briefcase..." The girl noted to herself as she watched him. Luckily, his mask made him very distinctive for anyone who may be looking for him, so she had not had much trouble. "Is that relevant to whatever he's up to?" The questions were racing through her head in spite of her better judgement. She couldn't help but wonder about the good-looking, well-dressed young fellow with Yakuza ties. It was all so odd to her, and new. She didn't often run into anything so… exciting, was probably the word. And normally, Phoenix abhorred exciting. But something about it just seemed alluring. Maybe it was more the man than the danger, who really knew? Certainly not her.

…

DAMN.

Wrapped up in her own little thoughts, Kawajiri had lost Chisaki. He had seeped into the crowd. That wasn't good, not good at all. Not even wasting a second, Misa once again extended her wings and took off into the air, in search of the fellow she was shadowing. Stupid Misa, she cursed herself. How had she been so stupid? She really needed to focus more. Her eyes scanned the surroundings as she flew over an alleyway that served as a gap between two buildings.

And in that very alleyway, Kai Chisaki now stood, facing a triage. They were common street thugs, Overhaul had done his research. Nothing big, they were unheard of, just worthless druggies with not a thing to their names and a whole heap of desperation for power, power that they had no clue what to do with. In other words, the perfect suckers to lure in.

"Gentlemen." The distinguished Yakuza bowed. The goons showed no such respect in return. Was it really so hard to show the baseline politeness required of a person? These kinds of people pissed him off the most. Fortunately, the mask obstructed his grimace as he set the silver case on the ground and entered in a combination. A few seconds passed and then it clicked open. "Here's your bloody Trigger. Ten vials, enough to give the three of you a bolster in your path- In your Quirks for up to forty-eight hours. If you have any questions, I would advise you ask now."

The thugs all shared looks with one another. They appeared satisfied at the very least, yet the one in the middle, a big guy with muscles to rival All Might- Well, the former All Might- seemed incredulous to some degree. 

"So, what yer tellin' us, Chisaki-"

"I would prefer if you called me Overhaul."

"-Right. Sorry." His accent was just thick enough to get under the Yakuza's skin. "Yer sayin' that we don' hafta pay for any of this?"

To this, Kai shrugged. "Consider it a first-time buyer's guarantee. If you want more later down the line, that's when you'll have to start paying me. Otherwise, take it." He kicked the briefcase, sending it sliding towards the men. "It's all yours." For a moment, it seemed like the huge guy was about to protest, but at looking at the vials, his greed got the better of him, and he allowed a wide grin to overcome his face, no doubt imagining what his improved Quirk would be like. Disgusting animal.

"Pleasure doin' business with ya, Mr. Overhaul." He gloated as he picked up the case, his cronies hovering around him as they sneaked looks at the drug. Now was probably the best time to strike, while they were blinded by their own pathetic delusions of grandeur.

"Likewise." Chisaki responded, reaching into his coat, as if trying to find a cigarette. "Say, you three, have you ever wondered what society would be like without Quirks? How far we could have advanced by now if we hadn't had to restart everything to accommodate the idea of superpowers?" The men stared at him like he was mad, which was to be expected. "It's just something I've been thinking about." He admitted as he pulled the gun from his coat and aimed it squarely at the large man's head. "Let's test it out. You'll survive, of course."

"What the fuck?" The scumbag growled as he dropped the case in shock. "You pullin' a gun on us? Guess what, you skinny prick? It's three on one. Shoulda thought about that before pullin' a betrayal!"

"Probably." Kai noted nonchalantly as he took aim and fired.

The bullet ricocheted up against a wall in the alley as the metallic weapon was knocked from his hand by a kick. And not a kick from one of the steroided-up goons. No, one aimed from above.

"Looks like I caught you boys in the act." Phoenix grinned as she stood, legs firmly apart, eying up Kai. "Trying to betray the dudes you're selling drugs to really isn't a great idea, I must add." 

…

Filthy…

Sickening….

"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE??!!" Kai Chisaki screamed, his voice carrying high up into the sky as he stared down the hero, his pupils small and mad in their sockets. "HOW DARE YOU TOUCH ME??!! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU??!!" He was completely enraged, sweat pouring from his forehead as he grasped at his hair. "DISGUSTING, DISGUSTING, DISGUSTING!!" He appeared to be on the receiving end of a full-on breakdown. All this over being kicked in the hand? No, it couldn't just be that. Already, the receivers of the Trigger had fled, stolen briefcase in hand. It really had been their lucky day.

"Woah, calm down, Chisaki-"

"Who gave you the right to call me that?!" He demanded, his voice slightly softer now. "And do you have any idea how difficult those bullets were to manufacture? I simply cannot afford to waste them!" Turning his back on Kawajiri, he picked up the gun, examining it for damages, and then wiped it clean with his white surgical gloves.

"Hey, creep! Stay right where you are!" Misa was petrified. She truly was. Something about this guy just was not right at all. She had been told he was a major germaphobe, but was it this bad? Enough to push him into insanity at a moment's touch? "You're under arrest for possession distribution of illegal narcotics." She was basically reading off the rulebook, saying what she was supposed to say in such situations. But nothing about this felt normal. Why was he so focused on the gun? "Stand down and await for police transport."

"You think I would heed such commands from a filthy piece of scum like yourself?" Suddenly, Kai was cool, clinical, yet again as he calmly pointed the gun in her direction. Phoenix nearly felt her heart stop. "Maybe you'll make a better test subject." His finger tightened on the trigger of the handgun. Misa had no time to think, no time to plan.

She simply ran forwards, charging the villain as he steadied his aim. Another loud bang echoed from the gun. She felt it tear her suit as it whizzed past her, but she managed to just barely evade it. Now, she was too full of adrenaline to stop, as she ploughed towards Chisaki. As she drew closer, she reached out, grabbing for his arm… She had to restrain him and fast.

"DON'T LAY YOUR FILTH-ENCRUSTED FINGERS ON ME FOR EVEN A SECOND!!" Overhaul yelled, back to unconcealed rage, as he slammed his hand down onto the ground. From nowhere, burst large columns of rock from beneath the concrete, sending the heroine flying back a few inches and separating the two. 

"Woah..." Was this his Quirk? She hadn't seen anything like it before. The rock wall stretched all the way up, totally shielding the Yakuza from her. It twisted up into the blue sky, as far as the eye could see. And then, she heard his voice, once again calm, from the other side.

"You made me use my Quirk." The man stated. "I hate this thing, but you left me with no other option. For that, I truly do feel some sort of hatred for you. So, I suppose I really feel no guilt in using you as my little guinea pig." Then, he fell silent again, as Phoenix paced around, trying to look for some sort of opening in the wall. Suddenly, she heard a rush of wind behind her and snapped around her head just fast enough to see Overhaul rushing at her. Now, Kawajiri had no clue just what his Quirk did yet, but she figured letting him touch her was a bad idea, so she took off into the air, hovering out of his reach.

"So, a flight Quirk, eh?" Chisaki sighed. His hair was ruffled, the purple fur on his coat torn in places and his bleach white tie flicking wildly with the motion from his rapid movements. "I must admit, I've never been great with moving targets." Once again, the pistol was out, pointed at her. No, she shouldn't panic. Judging from earlier, whatever bullets he loaded the thing with were very precious and so, he wouldn't waste them unless he knew there was a guaranteed chance of hitting her. She was safe for now.

She realized she had been foolish to think that even as the spiked column of rock dug itself up from the ground and impaled her right through the stomach, sending her back, right out of the alley and into the streets outside. She heard a scream as she slammed into a car, feeling the metal crunch behind her. Her vision was hazy, like that of a drunk, but she could still make out the suited villain walking slowly towards her as civilians fled the area. Well, all except for one man, who clearly realized that Kai was up to no good and tried to charge him. Without even looking in his direction, his gaze fixed on Misa, Overhaul's arm made contact with the brave man's chest and he exploded into nothingness.

"What the hell?!" Phoenix yelled. She felt like throwing up at the man's remains splattered the asphalt So this Quirk… It could erect pillars of rock, reduce humans to nothing, what was it exactly? She couldn't even think straight in her current state to try to decipher the answer.

"Isn't it kind of weird how people always try to act the hero? I've noticed that. I swear, this world has been poisoned beyond belief. Can I even cure it? Is that possible?" She felt cold metal as the bastard jammed the gun into her gaping mouth. "All I know is that I can try my very best. Starting here. You'll be my first patient, my girl. The first to be cured."

"Bite me." She hissed as she aimed a kick at his side, which somehow connected, winding the Yakuza just long enough for Misa to stagger to her feet. It felt like she had multiple broken ribs. Those could wait. "I think I get your shtick now. You think Quirks are disgusting or something, right? Yeah, just like any of those Creature Rejection Clan nutjobs. But you think you can bring an end to them, right?" She coughed up some blood onto her fist as she held Chisaki's gaze. "Well, think again, dickwad. You really think that you're some great saviour. I dunno what you have planned, but it sure as hell won't be anything that won't see you crushed like the pathetic little man you are!" And with that, she took flight again, aiming a kick at his head.

Before she even knew it, another column had travelled right through her left eye with a fleshy squealtch, blood coating the rock as she hurtled backwards, her fall stopped by a large vehicle that the rock pinned her to.

"Jesus… That it?" She spat, as Kai approached her yet again, his eyebrows raised in amusement. Then, he stepped backwards. Then again. Then, he spun around and started walking away. Misa was completely taken aback. "What?! You just leaving, you limp-dicked bastard? That ain't how a saviour acts, is it? Running away from a fight?" Her attempts at provocation did nothing to stop him and when the young woman tilted her head just a little, she saw why.

"Ah-" She started, before the oil tanker she had been pinned to exploded. The shockwave could be felt for blocks to come, glass shattered from the skyscrapers above as the world was thrown upside down. Everything went white for Misa Kawajiri, then black.

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

Damn. That really had escalated quickly. And now, the pro hero lay, amongst the rubble, with one eye, a busted ear, no legs and a stump of an arm. The Yakuza stood above her. 

"I'll be willing to overlook your blatant lack of manners." Overhaul growled as he resumed his kneeling position. "In fact, I'll let you be saved. I'll be the one to save you. Isn't that something? A sickening power-infected freak like you, given a second chance by a humble Yakuza. And after everything you've done to me. You have been one hell of an annoyance. But, I guess you'll have started to make it up to me if Eri's little bullets end up working." The girl felt metal press into her side. Why was he so eager to shoot her? It must have something to do with whatever he was planning. The last thing Misa Kawajiri heard was the crack of a gunshot, the last thing she felt was the pain of the bullet entering her body, and then, she fell still. A second or two passed before Kai hovered his hand over her head.

"All going well, you have been deprived of your filthy Quirk." He noted, more to himself as the hero was now deeply unconscious. "Now, just to fix you up." He pushed his hand down on her and the woman's body blew apart in a spectacular show of blood and gore. Just a few seconds later, it reassembled, all limbs, eyes and anything else re-attached. With a satisfied nod, the man got to his feet.

"You'll live peacefully for the rest of your days." He told her, turning his back on her and walking away from the destruction that lay sprawled out like the play area of a particularly deranged and angry child, as if it had just been another day at the office, adjusting his tie. "No Quirk, no heroics, no excitement. I hope you're cut out for a desk job, Phoenix. It's all you have in your future. You're welcome."

[stevebuckyfics]

Endgame Fix-it Fics

Hello! So, it’s about a week in and I’ve read some fantastic post-endgame fix its, and I thought I’d share them. I’m sure there are more, but these are the ones I loved. I might make another post later on, when I’ve read more :)

Please heed author notes and tags for specific warnings, I will just link the fics with their summary! 

born in fire (again and again) by defcontwo

Natasha lands, in dust and sand and light, in the middle of a great landscape of nothingness. She sits up, and touches one hand to the back of her head, and it comes away wet and sticky with blood.

There’s copper in the back of her mouth, and she spits it out into the sand, watching with satisfaction as the blood splatters into the otherwise pristine surface.

“Huh,” Natasha says. “So this is death.”

when we came home by augustbird ( @augustbird )

Fighting is hard. Rebuilding is harder. Post-Endgame AU.

like heaven stood up in you by napricot

“You said you were gonna miss him,” says Bruce slowly. “He was supposed to be back in five seconds, but you hugged him and said ‘I’m gonna miss you.’”

Bucky’s face is serene again now, and gives nothing away. “I know Steve,” he repeats. “You think you can hand him a time machine and some rocks of unspeakable power and he’s just gonna go put ‘em right back where they belong?”

Steve does put the Infinity Stones right back where they belong. He just does a couple other things too. Or: three timelines and a Reverse Time Heist.

picture it soft by midnightroom

When Steve lurches awake, his heart is pounding in his chest. His shirt, soaked in sweat, clings damply to his skin. One fist is clutching the sheets of the bed, and the other is clenched so hard he can feel his fingernails making little half-moons in his palm.

Thanos—

The Stones. Dust drifting through the air, ash so thick you could choke on it. Five endless, aching years of white noise. His team. The lunacy of time travel, the mind-bending, fuse-blowing reality of hand-to-hand combat with himself. The bruise blooming across his cheek to serve as proof. A soft jazz song playing on a record, a crackling hearth, red lipstick. Death, death, death—

Beside him, Bucky shifts in his sleep, turns over so he's facing Steve. His eyes are closed and his mouth is parted, and Steve can see the dark shadow of his hair spread across the pillow like an ink-stain.

(or, Steve and Bucky in the aftermath of Endgame, picking memories apart.)

Ever Mine, Ever Ours by hitlikehammers

Steve goes back to return the Stones, for the sake of the universe.

The extra Pym Particles he palms when Bruce isn't looking, though? Those are for the heart he has now and the heart he took into the ice; those are for the loves he's known and held and lost and found, those—

Those are for the sake of his soul.

Avengers: Endgame Fix-It.

Lichtenberg Figures by rustywrites

Spoilers for Avengers: Endgame

The scars take some getting used to.

(An ending re-work where everybody lives)

When People See Us by Brokenpitchpipe

Rumlow knocks his shoulder good-naturedly. “Hail HYDRA.” “Thanks,” Steve says automatically, “you too.”

Hearing “Bucky’s still alive” in his own voice might have been a little unexpected, sure. But Steve’s definitely not prepared for the entirety of STRIKE to suddenly and inexplicably think he’s a secret Nazi. (He’s not prepared to learn there are secret Nazis either, for the record.)

the epitaph of an old record player by celestialfics ( @liquidsaints )

Peggy, intelligent and adaptable as ever, takes the entirety of his story and mulls over it in her head for a time, sitting across from Steve and studying his face. Her eyes are set, eyebrows furrowed, chin sitting in her hands.

After a long while, she speaks.

“Go home, Steve,” she says, voice sure; she’s determined as she’s always been.

found a place to rest my head (never let me go) by bulletsandbutterflies 

ENDGAME SPOILERS.

He tries not to dwell on the unfairness of it. How they had only just been reunited before he was taken away from Steve again. Dwelling makes it harder to move on.

But it’s hard to forget him when he comes to Steve in his dreams. Sometimes, they’re sixteen again, drinking glass after glass of cheap beer to forget the harsh reality that they were struggling to meet ends meet. Other times, they’re in the war, huddled together in the trenches to keep themselves warm from the unforgiving chills of winter.

And there are nights where Steve feels hands on his skin, warm and metal, soft lips against his own.

In which, Endgame decided to ignore Stucky completely so I've come here to fix it.

Part 3 of been waiting a hundred years (and I'd wait a million more)

I Drew a Line for You by Brokenpitchpipe

"What are you doing here, Steve?" Peggy asks.

"I'm," Steve says. "Living."

Peggy smiles. But it's a smile he recognizes, a smile that means she's guessed at the truth and she's guessed right. "No," she says, "you're not."

kingdoms have fallen, angels are calling (none of that could ever make me leave) by bornes

It’s been a long day. It’s been a long five years.

stay by birdjay

The platform buzzes, and suddenly goes quiet. The cycle has finished. Bucky doesn’t bother to look. There’s no way Steve’s coming back when he has the chance to stay. He moves to walk away, to move on with his life, somehow.

“Buck -- ?”

Bucky whirls around, hair flying.

Who I really am (not who I’m supposed to be) by JayPendragon

[SPOILER WARNING for Endgame]

“Don’t tell me it’s not what you want, buddy. I remember you talking about her. You still got her picture in your pocket. You saved the world, you’re supposed to get the girl.”

Yeah, that’s how it goes, isn’t it? Steve thinks but doesn’t say. Once upon a time, before he saw the changes he only ever dreamed of in the thirties come to life in all the colors of the rainbow, before learning that Bucky survived… Back then, he would have agreed.

The Rest of Our Lives by cleo4u2 

SPOILERS STOP READING CHRIST

Fix if fic, picking up when Steve hops into the time machine at the end of the movie and telling what Steve really did for the rest of his life. Hint, it's not a she.

There's Only Now, There's Only Here by stevergrsno  ( @stevergrsno )

“Steve,” Peggy says when she reaches him with quick, steady steps, her- husband and friend? friends? partners? following behind at a more sedate pace.

“Uh,” Steve says, and “Hi?” and “Would you mind telling me what the date is?”

1951. Steve aimed for home and ended up in fucking 1951.

Jesus christ.

---

In which Steve not showing up on the time pad wasn't exactly on purpose and we ignore 95% of that ending.

kiss me twice by espinosas

ENDGAME SPOILERS!!!

Hey. Still Endgame spoilers.

AU where Steve comes back for Bucky.

You'll see him soon. by JDHD

"Go," Bucky said to Sam, because the thought of having to face the man in front of him - the man he no longer knew - was so much more than Bucky could handle. He was like tinfoil, and he was being crushed gently in a fist, and he just wanted to come out without any rips.

He met Sam's eye, and the other man shook his head for a moment. "No. He looked for you for years, Barnes. Maybe he can explain."

----

BIG OL' ENDGAME SPOILERS.

End of Endgame fix it because we deserve better.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice by obsessivereader ( @yetanotherobsessivereader )

Staring at the empty platform where Steve had stood just a moment ago, Bucky experiences one of the longest five seconds of his life. Steve’s not coming back, he thinks, over and over, Steve’s not coming back.

“…two, one.”

A weird distortion shimmers in the air as Steve materializes on the platform. Bucky lets out his breath in a quiet rush. He was so sure. He said his goodbyes and convinced himself that he’d get by just fine, that he was happy that Steve could finally have the life he’d always wanted with Peggy. He knew enough about the machine to know that Steve had a chance to go back to the 40s and pick up the life that was lost to him when he crashed the Valkyrie. And yet, here’s Steve back again, looking tired, dusty, disheveled. Bucky can’t tell what Steve’s thinking as their eyes meet. He’s never seen Steve’s eyes look so blue.

Part 2 of Fix-its that my heart needed

i say your name by rohkeutta ( @rohkeutta )

Bucky’s sitting on the back porch steps, curled up against the chill, when the door opens and closes behind him. Sam, perhaps, awoken by Bucky’s nightmares that lurk in the corners of the rooms: shadows that no longer stand up, ghosts who have laid their rifles down.

Bucky doesn't turn. If it's Sam, he can stay. If it's someone else, they can keep the ghosts.

whatever a sun will always sing is you by onibi ( @canobic )

Steve comes back.

It's Been a Long, Long Time (Coming) by bangyababy ( @bangyababy )

He says it'll take five seconds.

Bucky hopes that he's made the right decision.

He counts.

Five.

lighting up in the shadows by buckyjerkbarnes ( @fypoedameron )

"Don't you know by now there's nothing in the world that could make me walk away from you?"

[Or: a fix-it for Endgame because it would seem I have to do everything around here.]

Another Life by Palebluedot ( @brightbluedot )

"Hey, you," he says as he sits.

~~~

Or, it's been a long, long time, indeed.

(ENDGAME SPOILERS)

[you-guys--are-losers]

Number 11 please :)

//Absolutey! Thank you for being so patient, hope you’re getting plenty of writing time in.

11: ferris wheel date

Sparklers and Cinnamon

Summary: Every once in a while, MJ doesn’t mind a little dose of cliche. 

Characters: Michelle Jones x Peter Parker

Wordcount: 1,976

Warnings: Exists in a Universe Where Jon Watts WASN’T a Major Troll With the End Credits

Her hand in his has Peter’s heart racing faster than any swing through Queens has ever given him. 

It’s a bright day, and it’s cliche and ridiculous and crowded at Coney Island. The tickets were way too expensive, the colors of the bright pink cotton candy and the smell of candied nuts are overpowering, and all of it is an extremely bright contrast to MJ’s muted tones and grey jacket. 

The shy, growing grin on her lips completely washes out the artificial colors, sounds, and smells around them. 

Carefully, her fingertips brush his once more, and Peter can feel the hardened skin there that comes from the embroidery she recently revealed she enjoys. He catches his breath, moving his thumb to lightly brush the outside of their entwined hands. It’s her turn to inhale, and Peter casts her an amused look in response to the reaction. 

The warm light of the sun, which is just beginning to set, sets her hair on fire as she turns her head to him, raising an eyebrow. Her lips part slightly as she glances away, but despite the flustered quirk to her lips, her eyes hold that same dry humor that he like so much. 

“Something you want to share with the class, Peter?” she prompts, bumping her shoulder with his as they pass a family with a particularly large stroller and too many kids to really be paying attention. 

“Nah, nah,” Peter says easily, unable to keep a teasing grin off his lips. “I’m good.” 

“Well, according to the Sokovia Accords, you’re, like, a criminal. So if that’s your version of ‘good.’“ She raises her eyebrows at him, challenging, but the smile that has grown on his mouth is mirrored on her own. 

“Yeah… I’m pretty sure this is my version of good,” Peter breathes, his hand squeezing her own slightly. Her mouth releases into a soft ‘o’ as their steps slow for a moment, his eyes locked on hers. Her torso shifts towards him slightly, and for a second they stop, causing a group of girls behind them to shoot Peter and MJ a look. 

MJ doesn’t even glance their way. She is frozen, and for a moment so is he, just staring. 

“Sorry,” he breathes, hand rising to rub the back of his neck. 

“It’s okay.” Her face is sunshine and starlight and all of the cheesy things that Peter has ever read about in books… No. Those things aren’t MJ. Her smile is a gentle rain on the day that you feel like you’re crawling out of your skin, soothing and cool. 

He hopes it never stops falling, that it pours down around him. 

“So, uh… You said that you wanted to come here for a reason?” MJ continues walking, her hands moving to her pockets. Still, they maintain their proximity; her shoulder brushes his as they walk, and a few stray wisps of her hair tickle his cheek in the breeze. 

“Yeah! Yeah,” Peter says quickly, brightening. “Um, I mean… It’s a pretty good people-watching spot.” 

“Definitely,” MJ agrees, tipping her chin up to observe the crowd. “I’ve already seen, like, twelve people being pick-pocketed. It’s a good day.” 

Peter grins, and he runs a hand through his hair as he tips his head to the side to watch her reacting. “Well… What about watching them from up above?” 

MJ’s eyes widen, then narrow. “Wait, are we talking about spider-ing? Because, uh, nope. Not a fan, so…”

“Uh, no,” Peter says quickly, shaking his head. “No, no. I actually meant…” His gaze drifts over her shoulder to the ferris wheel, the iconic one with a ridiculously long line. Her eyes follow his to the Wonder Wheel, and a little grin drifts onto her lips as she glances back to him.

“You remembered.” 

“Yeah.” He pauses, then reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear so that it’s not drifting in her face. Her lips twitch as she looks at him, and for a moment the emotions on her face are more than just happiness. Then she’s leaning forward, and Peter can’t think straight because she’s just given him a quick peck on the cheek. 

MJ doesn’t pause to acknowledge the gesture as she continues walking, her hand tugging his sleeve to turn him in the direction of the wheel. He can’t help the laughter that leaves him at her attempt to move past the moment. 

“Wait, wait. What was that?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just making sure that that freckle behind your ear isn’t cancerous.” 

“Cool. Verdict?” 

“You’re totally gonna die in, like, three hours.” 

“Sad day. At least we’ll be a quarter of the way through the line by then.” 

Her stifled huff of amusement buoys him along on the summer afternoon, and so they continue on down the path to the iconic New York landmark. 

The line isn’t bad, actually. It’s getting later, and a lot of park-goers are leaving to fetch dinner, particularly those with young children. The light is getting longer, and Peter and Michelle’s shadows are emaciated, willowy giants as they take their place in the line. Soon, golden sunlight has turned orange and coral, exploding across the landscape around them as they play stupid games to pass the time in line. 

“Most likely to have a second family living in another country. Go.” 

“Blue shirt, buying her kids the whole popcorn stand.” 

Peter’s eyes find the woman MJ is referring to, contemplating her before nodding. “You had that answer ready really fast.” 

“I can tell when someone only has one double life. Amateurs.” Peter grins in response to MJ’s quip, shaking his head as she searches her mind for a category. “Most likely to be part of a cult.” 

“You.” 

“Right answer. Now I have to either indoctrinate you or kill you. Your choice.” 

Peter hums, thinking about it as he pulls their half-finished bag of roasted nuts from his pocket. “I think I choose indoctrination,” he decides, holding it out to her after taking a few for himself. 

She does so without hesitation, popping one in her mouth as they take a few steps closer to the cars of the ferris wheel, tossing one of the nuts to a pigeon that is strutting a few feet away from them. The bird tips his head to the side in an angular movement, studying them before pecking once, then twice at the nut. It turns its head back to them, squawking once before it flaps away. The nut has been left behind.

“Ungrateful,” MJ muses. “I was trying to be environmentally friendly.” 

“Is that what that was?” 

“I’m nurturing Mother Earth, Peter. Don’t mock me.” 

Peter grins, tucking away the rest of the remaining snack. “Noted.” Michelle watches him for a moment with the same scrutinizing gaze as the pigeon did. “I had fun today.” 

“Me, too. I’m really glad you came.” 

MJ opens her mouth to say something, but then the underpaid teen running the ride calls, “Hey. Are you getting on, or…?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter says quickly. MJ blinks and quickly turns, and the two get into the cream-colored car before the redheaded kid running the machine shuts the door with a little more force than necessary. Before either of them can say anything, the car is moving up to allow the next group of people in.

Michelle inhales, and then she lets out a deep breath as she peers out the window at the ocean and the beach. Peter spares the window a quick glance, and the fading pink sunset on the water is certainly a pretty sight. He likes the view from right here, though… The way that her eyes are dissecting the landscape below like those of a bird of prey. The intensity of her gaze is contrasted against the soft, violet light that is filtering into the car. 

He thinks he could get used to this feeling of fireworks in his chest. 

Someone brought sparklers to the beach below, and MJ is currently watching the sputtering lights from just above ground level. Peter imagines that when they are up high, they will shimmer and shine like scraps of tinfoil on the pavement below. 

“You know, Ned and Betty almost died on a ferris wheel,” she mentions, her fingers relaxing on the caged windows. 

“Eh, not really,” Peter says, trying for her nonchalant tone. “I mean, you’re the one who proved that one wrong.” 

She glances at him over her shoulder, smiling slightly. “I did. Maybe I should be the one in the suit.” 

“Mm.” 

“What, are you saying that you don’t think I could kick someone’s ass?” MJ asks, turning her gaze to him. The same stare that caught him so off-guard in the opera house is one he’s getting used to, slowly but surely. 

“No,” Peter says, shaking his head as he looks at her from across the car, suddenly a bit bashful now that they’re alone.

“I just think you could save more people as MJ than I ever could as Spider-Man.” 

The car lurches as the ride begins moving; neither of them is prepared for it. MJ stiffens, and across the car she audibly catches her breath. At least that’s marginally less embarrassing than Peter’s reaction, which is to adhere himself to the sides with his fingertips. 

MJ is amused as Peter’s cheeks heat up. “Maybe I should sit by you,” she suggests, her voice careful to stay cool. “You know, just so that they don’t have to pry you out of this thing.” 

“Uh, yeah, I’m cool with that,” Peter says, voice sheepish as she moves to sit beside him. He can smell the lemony scent of her shampoo as she settles beside him; it grows stronger as her head drifts down to rest against his. He exhales, resting his own temple on her shoulder comfortably as the car begins to move. The lights from below are growing to be the only illumination as the final rays of sun disappear. 

“I can’t believe you remembered,” she murmurs from beside him, and Peter feels his cheeks heat again. “Dork.” 

“Hey… It was just that good.” 

“No, it wasn’t. I had just started stippling, it was crazy uneven.”

“I thought it was really cool,” Peter defends himself, allowing his head to sink further against her shoulder. 

MJ hums, her hand coming to rest against his on his knee. He lightly runs his fingertips along her knuckles, watching the changing sky outside the window. “You’ve always been a really good artist, and it was my first day at Midtown. It was the coolest thing I’d seen all day, and you looked so… I dunno. You.” 

 MJ is quiet from beside him, and when she finally does, it’s to say, “Wow. You’re more cliche than I already thought you were.” 

“Than you already thought I was?” 

“You’re a high-school superhero who was bitten by a radioactive spider. You could have your own Disney channel show or something.” 

Peter grins, and he reaches for her hand. She gives it to him willingly, and when the wheel stops with them at its highest point, she glances his way. Though her words are dry, her tone is a bit breathless as they take in the sight of the beach below. 

“I can’t think of anything that could possibly make this cheesier.” 

Someone down below lights fireworks, which explode in the night sky above and bathe the world in red and blue. 

Peter doesn’t remember starting to laugh, but he does know that MJ somehow manages to look both fond and exasperated as she leans over to kiss him. Her lips taste like cinnamon and brown sugar against his, and Peter knows that this is the moment he’s going to come back to whenever he needs reminding of what “home” is.

[italianfish]

Here’s some things that I’ve overheard recently

- Michael Jackson part 1, before he came around

- That’s a sexy gauge

- We have cones in our eyes??? *Turns to friend* Show me your eyes.

- What’s ROYGBIV? Is that a person?

- I put the jewish inside of him

- The air in my house is polluted with sleeping pills

- One day someone will react to my gay jokes

- One day someone brought a tub of ice cream out of their backpack in the middle of class

- Hey Francis (Talking to a blow up alien)

- Why do you like assholes

- Aladdin doesn’t have nipples

- Support your own god damn neck!

- I saw my friend in the bathroom and he gave me orange juice

- FORM THE EQUATOR!!!

- Yes, indeed my good sir

- Sharing your wealth is the way to become poor

- I’m sorry I don’t have calcium in my body

- Why the pancreas?!

- I watched this show and these characters exploded and it was my favorite show

- Someone is going to lose a pancreas

- A: Don’t lose your pancreas B: I’ll try to hold onto it

- She knew how to multiply! And I was like “You’re only three!”

- Come on Moser, hitting the nut won’t do anything

- I work with a prostitute

- I love crunchy pancakes

- You are a big neon doof

- Look I can spit, I’m cool now

- ‘Ay! Trout!

- In her free time she did her taxes

- Hey! You like Raisin Bran?

- If you get a rooster you’ll be hungry, unless you eat him

- It smells like Hawaii

- If A claims he’s a god and Jesus says he’s the son of god... Does that mean Jesus is A’s son?

- We managed to convince our sub that this was a film and lit class so we watched infinity war all period

- A- So let’s keep the duck B- It’s a vulture...

- Did you just call me fuzzy?

- I didn’t recognize you with your clothes on

- He looks like a punk rock jazz drummer

- A- British! British! B- I HAVE A NAME!

- Stop putting your dog in the oven!

- Did you expect it to be that good of a cactus?

- I relate to Squidward so much

- He was like the dad that left to get cigarettes and never came back

- We’re literally following Marty Mcfly

- My elbows are funky fresh

- A- You shank em’ B- No! That is the exact opposite of a solution!

- Unicorns caused global warming

- A- No balls in class! B- But we’re in health

- The crazy chellos are back

- See! I do have friends!

- It’s a train, a train of love

- A- Why do they keep getting rid of the babies? B- I don’t know, abortion

- You have to earn the bucket hat

- My friend brought in 7 bucket hats

- Hide the forks!

- The turtles tried to cross the road once

- I’m scared of turtles

- So does everyone just carry a sword around in their back pocket?

- When you’re fishing, anyone in a bucket hat has authority

- She has cheese on her hook!

- Are your knee pits moist?

- Why are you molesting me with water

- I was born vaccinated

- I was born to be a little spoon

- Why do I look like a hispanic man

- Can I tickle your knee pits?

- You’re going to get eaten by the ocean

- A- You’re a hot mess B- Hey! At least I’m hot!

- They’ve developed a handshake! Isn’t this a problem?!

- We’re in the OG thirteen colonies

- A- I’m not used to seeing those big grassy structures B- You mean trees?!

- My name is bagged milk

- You only drink bagged milk once, in Canada

- It’s not expensive, you’re just poor

- I forgot I’m a lady

- That’s you after I poop

- I want to be Brazilian

- I figured out what the voice was! They’re playing Bingo

- A- Do “coo coo” B- CAW

- It’s probably in a nice aisle, aisle 9

- So inside the bag there are 3 more bags full of milk

- Mom we got the bagged milk

- He told me I looked like Nicholas Cage

- Her bio says inhale the kale

- I feel like an easy bake oven

- The bags just like, left

- But what about the unicorns

- Look at that potato! That looks free!

- Everyone! Find a piece of metal and lick it

- I’m the toilet man

- Go fetch me grapes

- All girls want to molest this

- He ate a whole pancake out of an Applebee’s dumpster

- Why did he eat turf

- I’m on a mission to find dairy products

- I was going to go to school and pretend to be a witch

- Remember when you put the lotion in my mouth and I drank it?

- We’re playing quarter baseball

- Pretend you’re sleeping

- The ultimate frisbee association

- My mom picked me up from school so I could go to ultimate frisbee practice

- They got a $2000 grant for a barely existing ultimate frisbee team

- She’s ultra mom

- The dodgeball guy called my friend a walrus

- We did a dramatic reading of an adult novel

- He was buying materials to make a whip

- Grate her down like a piece of cheese

- We sat in a circle and named our most Jewish quality

- 4 is the cosmic number

- I hate being a fertile woman

- Excuse me I’m Jewish

- Surprise disco duet

- I shook like 7 tents

- She’s the strings teacher, we keep her in the basement

- Whenever we finished a test and we said “I’m done” he would say “I’m done! You’re finished!” his last name was Done

- I thought the fire hydrant was a turkey

- I asked him if his password was like an anniversary or something and he said “It’s the date of my grandparents death”

- He gives us weekly quantum physics lectures

- Bruh! That looks like a lunchbox!

- No offense but this guy would make out with a floorboard

- You seem like the kind of person to kiss a floorboard

- You sound exactly like my pediatrician

- Lots of poop, no sock

- She’s not doing her work, she’s looking at Peppa pig

- Yo neighbor, I need some sugar

- White moms are really easy to scare

- Even though it’s part of Asia, ITS NOT

- Why was there a hanging waffle?!

- I got complimented on my croissant

- You can sell your liver

- Bernie Sanders reminds me of a muppet

- WHY IS THERE A HELICOPTER IN THE KITCHEN!!!!

- What are you going to do? Hunt squirrels?

- *A bunch of AP students shouting “Linguini”*

- I got bitten by an iguana in Aruba

- We got an actor to join the hammock group chat

- Say goodbye to your ovaries

- I’m half a butt cheek away from death

- Are you one of those people who puts ice cream and pop tarts in a blender

- Yo! You got any shoes I can eat???

- That’s how you segregate your trail mix???

- He has a six pack of ribs

- I’m so done with books about African children

- Do homies kiss

- I’m here for the num nums

- Don’t touch my pizza you savage!!!

- HURRY UP AND MEDITATE

- What are you for Halloween? Jewish?

- Do ducks have tails

- He was the one that broke the constitution

- Oh god now there’s Hitler on my paper

- God given right of ruling... Manifest destiny in China

- Do you shampoo your eyebrows

- This isn’t Bayblade!

- Bob Ross wasn’t an artist, he was an art therapist

- If anyone on the team is a jellyfish, it’s definitely Brandon

- It’s your fault that I’m not going to college!

- I’m having spinach for dinner! I’m so excited!

- I locked him in his toolbox

- Let’s rent a midget for a day and we can throw him against a wall

- I know how to utilize money, but do I know how to utilize it well, that’s another question

- Man, that place needs a Chick-fil-a, and I’m going to make it

- We should have the purge in school one day

- If you’re weird enough, people won’t want to rape you

- Flex seal it with tape

- Oh yeah, I got vinegar all over my sweatshirt

- Don’t say “Have a good day”, because I’m not having a good day

- Well maybe someday you’ll have cancer

- What’s up guys, I’m from Richie’s pizza, and today I’ll be showing you my body count

- An obo sounds like a clarinet with Down syndrome

- I DONT HAVE ANY MARINARA SAUSCE ON ME RIGHT NOW

- WE WILL SMUGGLE OUR KIDS TO AMERICA

- I’m the jolly black giant

- You pissed off a priest

- If we get a lot of money, I can take her boyfriend to prom

- Ted Bundy would share a lot of ideas with you

- They’re doing a milk experiment... But with marinara

- A- That’s not a color! B- But it’s on a crayon!

- Hey what’s up cheese goblin

- I’m letting my toes breathe

- I’m just saying, tinfoil doesn’t taste that bad

- YOURE EATING IT YOU UNGRATEFUL SWINE

- When I was away were you in my house? Because it’s happened before

- How do you say I have scoliosis in Italian?

- I’m gonna give give birth to a duck, right here, right now

- Are you comparing a 3D printed violin to genocide

- I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST BLACK PEOPLE

- Brother from another mother, TELL ME ABOUT THAT

- I’m a vulture, just vulturing

- I’m going on a field trip to the sewage treatment plant on my birthday

- You’re making my vagina angry

- Competitive Just Dance team

- Oh no there’s spaghetti falling out of my pockets!

- (Yoda impression) Take anger out on minorities I must

- I can turn off the lights and you’d still be white

[raywritesthings]

Bird in a Storm 5/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn, John Diggle, Joanna de la Vega, Ted Grant, Raisa, Hank, Emily Nocenti, Female OCs, Male OCs Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

She’d boxed up everything that would be going with her. In the end, it wasn’t really that much. Joanna had offered to hold on to her law books — “For the near future,” her friend had declared, convinced this was only going to be a short hiatus for Laurel from the practice. The bulk of her things were clothes, old photos and albums, and Sara’s stuff. She hadn’t had the heart to throw it away, even with the smaller space she’d have now.

It took a few trips to get everything downstairs, but she wasn’t worried about leaving her stuff. Hank, her first ever client, was sitting with it outside in her car.

He’d sought her services all those years ago for his son when he’d been falsely accused of a mugging. Now that same son was in need of a cheap car to get to and from college, and Laurel had been more than happy to have someone to take it off her hands. The insurance was just going to be too much, not to mention her new home didn’t have its own driveway or garage.

She climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door.

“That everything?” Hank asked.

“Yep. Time to go. Thanks for giving me a lift over.”

“Hey, it’s the least I can do. This all is a real shame.”

Laurel nodded, leaning back against the headrest as she watched her old building glide away past the window. No turning back now.

They left downtown and entered the Glades. They were streets she was somewhat familiar with, at least the ones she took to and from work, but it seemed different now knowing this was to be her neighborhood. She spotted the corner store she’d researched online for where she would be getting her groceries.

As they turned onto her new street, dodging around a trash can that had fallen over into the road, she sat up. There was a whole group of people standing around by the front walk of the little townhouse she was to call her own. Hank honked the horn, and it was at that point she realized she recognized most of them.

“There she is. Welcome to the neighborhood!” Mrs. Ross called out as she got out of the car.

“What is all this?”

“I might have mentioned I was helping you move to a few people,” Hank admitted sheepishly. He had already taken one of the bigger boxes from the car, so Laurel headed up the walk to unlock her front door. She remained on the stoop as Hank went in, looking around at the people who had turned out.

One stood out in particular.

“Raisa?”

The Queen’s cook and housekeeper smiled at her. “I heard Mr. Oliver and Miss Thea discussing your move. You were always such a sweet girl with a good heart, and now we’ve become something of neighbors.”

“I didn’t know you lived in the Glades.” She would have thought the Queens paid her more than that.

“I do. My sister’s family, my son and I. We all share. A few streets away from here.” She waved a hand vaguely in one direction. Then she returned it to holding a tupperware bowl. “Now, I found time to bake some cookies. Your favorite, if I recall.”

Laurel thought she could feel her stomach growl at just the mention. “I’m sure they are. Thank you so much, Raisa.”

The woman patted her arm, and then headed in after Hank.

She wasn’t alone in bringing food. Mrs. Ross was carrying a large casserole dish covered with tinfoil. “You can serve this up over a week, maybe two. Did the job work out?”

“I talked to her over the phone, and she asked me to come in tomorrow to start.”

“Good, that’s good. But listen, don’t stand on ceremony with her. She’s just Pam.”

Laurel took note of that with a nod, and Mrs. Ross continued into the house.

A couple both about five years her senior approached her next. The woman reached her hand out first; she had brown skin and long dark hair in a sleek pontytail. “Hi, I’m Anita. This is my husband, Jerome. We’re right next door from you.”

Laurel shook both of their hands. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you.”

“No, thank you for moving in. There’s been kids smoking on the stoop and in the back. Makes the whole street stink,” Anita said. Her husband, a Black man, hummed in agreement. “Now they’ll just have to find somewhere else.”

“Well, glad I could help then,” she replied with a wry grin.

Anita turned her head to the side and said, “Bebê, you wanna grab a couple boxes?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh no, that’s okay,” she started, but Jerome had already walked towards the car.

“Oh, don’t worry. He carries heavier stuff than that at the docks,” Anita told her. “Jerome’s got work unloading the cargo ships that come by there.”

“This is like a feather,” he agreed as he returned with one box under each arm. Laurel had to admit he didn’t look to be breaking a sweat. He was probably taller than both Oliver and John, and maybe even her father. His hair was cropped short, though not as close as John’s military regulation.

Emily Nocenti was behind them in the makeshift line that had formed. “Laurel, I couldn’t believe it when I heard this was happening. If it weren’t for you and Joanna at CNRI — well, they’re losing a good person.”

“Thank you, Emily. I’m glad I was able to close your case first.” There were other cases she had been looking at before everything had gone wrong. Cases she would never be allowed to touch, whether or not they would have been winnable. It hurt.

Last of the group, Joanna emerged with a big smile. “I had to come and see the place, didn’t I?”

Laurel gladly accepted her friend’s hug. “Thanks for coming.”

Joanna took out an envelope and passed it to her. “This is from Peter Declan. He’s at a recital for his daughter and couldn’t make it, but they both wanted you to have it. Something to help you out.”

She opened it to find a thank you card with two fifties folded up inside. Laurel bit her lip as her eyes stung for a moment. Just thinking about all that time the man had spent wrongly imprisoned, only to still be so kind. “You’ll tell him thanks?”

“Of course. Now come on, let’s get you unpacked.”

Together, the two friends entered the house. It was much smaller than her old apartment, and still one level. The sitting room bled into the kitchen with only a counter separating them. A cramped hallway led back to a bathroom with a standup shower and further back was the single bedroom with a tiny closet. Sara’s things would be going up on the high shelf in there just as they had done in her old place.

Everyone had congregated in the main room. Raisa and Mrs. Ross were manning the kitchen while Jerome unpacked her appliances. The only good thing about the brevity of her and Tommy cohabiting a space was that practically everything in it had been hers; it cut down on things she’d needed to buy.

“Think these are clothes,” Hank said as he opened one box on a squat coffee table.

“Joanna and I can take that. Thanks, Hank.”

She picked up the box and led Joanna back through to the bedroom.

“Well,” her friend began. “It could be worse.” She sat on the bed and tested its bounce. Laurel didn’t miss her smile dropping for a moment. “So how safe is this neighborhood, Laurel? I mean really?”

“It’s not the worst,” she hedged. “It was the best I could find in terms of the landlord. There’s some tenement housing where they don’t turn the heating on until the dead of winter, did you know that?”

Joanna shook her head. “It doesn’t surprise me, but no. Look, Laurel, are you sure you don’t just want to stay with me and my mom for a while?”

“I couldn’t. Really, it’d be too generous, and I still wouldn’t be able to keep up with my car payments. I’d have no way to get to work.” She finished hanging a few sweaters and turned to take Joanna’s hands. “It’s going to be okay, Jo, I promise.”

Someone clearing their throat caused her to turn and see Anita standing in the doorway. “I found your toiletries. You just want those in the bathroom?”

“Yes, thank you. On the sink is fine. I’ll sort through them all later.” Laurel moved away from Joanna and took out her gray pea coat to hang up next.

“Oh, you sweet thing, that is a beautiful coat.”

“Thank you,” Laurel replied.

“You’re gonna have to get rid of it.”

She blinked. “Sorry?”

Anita gave her a rueful grin. “People spot you walking around in something this nice, they’re gonna think you have money. And some of them are gonna want that money.”

Laurel exchanged a nervous look with Joanna. “Um, okay. Do you think your mom would want this?”

“I’ll ask her.” Joanna stood and folded the coat over her arm. Laurel frowned as she looked over her things. She’d thought she had already sold most of her best stuff, but did she give off the image of someone it would be worthwhile to mug? Was that all that some people would see?

Anita set aside the toiletry case and approached her. “I’m not saying you can’t have anything a little nice. But you want to be careful. Those kind of folks can pick out people who don’t belong, don’t know better.”

Laurel nodded. “I understand.”

“If you need some different things, there’s a thrift store four blocks east of here. You can get some nice stuff second hand, too.”

“Laurel, I’ll finish hanging up the clothes. You go sort out the other boxes,” Joanna said. Her friend could clearly see she needed something else to distract herself with, at least for a few moments.

“Yeah, okay.”

When she entered the main room, Emily Nocenti was pulling the photo albums and framed photographs out of one box and setting them aside. She held up one as Laurel approached.

“Is this you and your dad?”

Laurel shook her head. “No, that’s my sister, Sara.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Emily rushed to say, and Laurel remembered with some embarrassment that she had told the other woman the whole history that day they’d bumped into Oliver at the courthouse.

“It’s fine.” She put a smile on to reassure the other woman, then took the photograph and placed it on the narrow bookshelf standing against one wall. “I don’t even know why he bought her that canary. It never shut up, drove us all nuts.” Sara had grown bored with it after a week or so, too, leaving her to either have to remind her sister or simply feed the loud thing herself.

Laurel then stopped by the kitchen. “Is there a pizza place or something near here? I don’t want to send you all home without eating.”

“There’s Joe’s on Fifth and Powell. They’ve got a nice deal on Saturdays,” Jerome told her.

Laurel looked them up and ordered, and soon enough most of her boxes were empty and everyone had regathered in the main room to eat. Anita had had to run next door to grab paper plates, which Laurel wished she’d thought to buy beforehand. She hadn’t really been expecting company so soon, though.

“And there really isn’t some kind of appeal process?” Emily was asking her. “I know the Hood isn’t exactly innocent, but without him Sommers would be walking free. A lot of people think he does good work.”

“Well, he could be doing more,” Mrs. Ross said. Laurel looked over in surprise. The other woman raised both hands. “I’m just saying, there’s a lot still wrong with this town.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to feel safe walking around at night. Usually I just sit around after work waiting for Jerome to be done with his shift and come get me,” Anita agreed. “Lots of guys out there think they can use force to get their way, too.”

“Well, that’s not like anything the Hood’s doing,” Laurel began.

“No, but it’s funny,” Jerome said. “He stopped those bank robbers a few months back. How come he doesn’t do more of that?”

“It would be so nice if he would do something about the gangs that attack the bus routes,” Raisa agreed. “I’m always so afraid to go home. Any day now, they’ll pick the one I’m on, and I’ll lose my wages.”

“There’s gangs hitting the buses?” Joanna asked. Judging by the look on her face, this was the first she was hearing of it, too.

“Well, maybe the Hood just doesn’t know about all of that.”

“What if he did?” Hank asked. He’d been mostly quiet till now, but he was staring directly at Laurel. “Maybe if you told him?”

The others were all watching her expectantly, too. Much as she didn’t want to disappoint them, Laurel knew protecting Oliver’s identity was still important, even among friends.

“It- it doesn’t really work like that. I don’t have the phone to contact him anymore.”

There were nods and glum looks. Mrs. Ross stood and started gathering up empty plates. She patted Laurel’s hand. “Best for you to keep your head down. That’s what we all do to survive.”

The party atmosphere had waned, and slowly everyone started making their way to the door. Laurel thanked them each as they left, then stood in her doorway and watched as Hank drove away with what was no longer her car. The lights were on at Anita and Jerome’s, but other than that the street was quiet.

Laurel shut and locked the door, then put away a few more little things before retiring to her new bedroom. It was hard for her to get to sleep; whether that was due to a first night in a new environment or her thoughts, she wasn’t sure.

What the others had said about the Glades and the Hood, it weighed on her. There was so much more work to do to even come close to saving this city. Laurel just wasn’t sure how she was going to take it on.

---

Pam rose early as she always did and went about her morning routine. Getting ready, watering the plants that needed it, and feeding her cat. She made sure to give him a nice big bowl, otherwise he tended to try going after the basil.

With everything upstairs settled, it was time to head down and open Green Glades for another morning.

She checked the register and went up and down the rows, inspecting her wares. Some of the perennials weren’t looking as good as they had a week ago. She’d have to consider marking them down. There was some other matter of business she needed to tend to today, though it was escaping her what that was specifically. With a shrug, she decided it would dawn on her at the right time.

Pam returned to her counter and had only eased back into her stool for a few minutes before there was a knock at the front door. She looked up. “Now who could that be?”

It wasn’t opening time yet. But as she shuffled to the door, she could make out the outline of a young woman with brown hair and a striped sweater. Ah! Her brand new assistant then. She’d known she was forgetting something.

Pam undid the lock. “Laurel?” Such a pretty name for the girl who was herself rather pretty.

Her new assistant nodded with a small, polite smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Pam.”

“You as well. I’m glad you got here early. We’ll have some time to go over the store.”

She led Laurel on a walking tour up and down aisles, pointing out the organization of the flowers and other plants. “I did them by difficulty. Makes it easier for the beginners.”

“Difficulty?”

“In how to tend them, grow them. Some plants require a skillful touch compared to others. They’re high maintenance. You’ll see in time. What sort of plants have you owned?”

“Um, my mom had a basket...thing, when I was growing up,” Laurel said. Pam waited, but that was apparently to be it.

“Well, you’ll be able to relate well to the beginners, then. Tell you what, today I’ll have you on the register. She’s an old thing, but you learn the right way soon enough. Oh, and I’ve got some mark down stickers that need putting on a few of the perennials.”

“I can do that,” Laurel volunteered with spirit, clearly glad to have something she felt confident enough in doing. Pam fished out the guide she had for customers, dog-eared and stained with mulch in places, setting Laurel to work.

They had their first customers before she’d finished, and Pam was kept busy by the register. It was mostly folks coming in early for seeds and bulbs, a couple of indoor plants here and there. Pam did some bouquets, of course — she knew where the money was — but she was always so happy to sell something living instead.

“Pam? Sorry, where’s the sink?”

Pam turned to find her assistant holding the sticker tape in one hand and her other, dirt-covered hand far away from her clothes. There were already a couple of dark stains on the front of her sweater.

“Oh! I should have got you an apron. I’m sorry, dear.” She ushered Laurel into the back where she found her an old smock to wear in place of the sweater, along with her own apron.

Laurel came up to learn the register, which left Pam a little freer to chat with her neighbors and regulars, like Annie who came in hefting two canvas bags of groceries already. She must have gotten up early to have made the two mile trek to the supermarket and back.

“I’m thinking of trying a little herb garden this year in my window box,” Annie told her. “Wanted to talk to you first about what I might be needing.”

“Absolutely. Now what have you been growing in the window box before this?”

“Just some marigolds. Mom’s favorite, you know. But who’s this?” Annie asked, turning to look at Laurel.

“Hi, I’m Laurel. It’s nice to meet you. This is my first day.”

“Oh, the new assistant!”

“Yes, this is my florist-in-training,” Pam remarked. “She’s a bit green, but she’ll have a green thumb before it’s said and done.”

Laurel looked down at the register keys, a bit of a blush to her cheeks.

“Now, about that window box,” Pam decided to continue to get the attention off the young woman. 

She did introduce Laurel to a few more of the usual crowd over the course of the day, and just a couple hours after dark, it was time to close up. In another couple months, it would still be light out come closing time.

They hung up their aprons, and Pam assured her assistant she could bring the smock back tomorrow so she wouldn’t be walking home in a dirty sweater. “Try to find something old you don’t mind getting a little messy for next time.”

“Right.” Laurel turned to walk past the counter and towards the door.

“Wait a minute!” Pam called. Her assistant stopped and watched as she shuffled into the back again, this time coming out with a small, potted African violet.

“Now, this is for you. Call it a hiring bonus.”

Laurel looked at the plant with clear surprise and moved to hand it back over.

“I can’t take it for free.”

“Of course you can. I bring home the troubled ones all the time. Any florist should have a few of their own.”

“I don’t know, Pam. I was never really a plant person. What if it dies?”

The girl was nervous, eager to please. If Pam had to guess, life hadn’t treated her well even before her ouster from CNRI. She only knew the bare basics from what Liza Ross had told her neighbor, and she wasn’t inclined to dig for the details. Sometimes it was best to let those things emerge on their own.

“You take that home. Nurture it. Learn to care for it.”

Laurel wilted, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all anyone can do, dear.”

She sent the young woman home and finished locking up the place. Pam wiped her hands on her apron before hanging it back up on the hook on the wall, then climbed the stairs at a slow pace. Her feet and knees hurt far less now that she wasn’t doing so much around the shop, but they still weren’t what they used to be when she’d been a younger woman.

Ah well. Young or old, they all had their struggles.

---

She had a full week under her belt at the shop, and suffice to say Laurel was exhausted. Her whole day was spent on her feet, as Pam only had the one stool and she wasn’t about to deprive the older woman of it. It wouldn’t look great if she was constantly sitting around, either. She’d need to trade her plain flats for some sneakers. Her arches were killing her.

It was her first day off and she’d mostly spent it on the couch, too tired to even think about going out. She’d clicked around on her computer reading this or that article. One of Starling’s elite, Ken Williams, was under scrutiny after revealing the pyramid scheme he’d been a part of. The articles didn’t say, but Laurel suspected the Hood’s involvement in making the man change his ways.

At least Ollie was still getting real work done out there.

It had gotten dark without her notice. Laurel yawned and stretched. Time for an early bed. She pushed up off the couch and crossed the room.

The glass in her front window shattered, and Laurel dropped and rolled away from a rectangular object that landed on her floor. When nothing happened, she peeked out from the protective ball she’d curled into.

It was a brick. She heard some jeering laughter outside, but when she went to the window the culprits were already running off into the night. Just some lousy troublemakers. They probably hadn’t even had a purpose to picking her house. Or they were the teens upset she’d taken away their smoking spot.

Laurel’s forehead dropped to rest against the wall as she waited for her heartbeat to slow. Was she getting paranoid? There wasn’t anything special about her anymore, so why would people be coming to attack her?

It occurred to her that standing around in her socks while there was broken glass on the floor wasn’t the best idea. She picked her way over carefully and stepped into her shoes, then went to fetch her broom and dustpan. The floor was easy enough to start with, but she was going to have to remove all the couch cushions and make sure nothing was hiding underneath.

A knock at her door interrupted her, causing her to tense back up as she listened.

“Laurel? It’s Jerome from next door.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she went to the door. “Hi.”

“Anita sent me to check on you. Thought we heard something crash over here.”

“Yeah, I think it was just some kids. They threw a brick through my window. I’m fine.”

“Kids.” He shook his head. “You need any help cleaning the glass up?”

She waved a hand. “No, I’ve got it.”

“Well, how about I bring a tarp over to cover the window up till the landlord gets around to replacing it. We should have one lying around.”

The practical side of her won out when she considered that they still hadn’t reached spring. “If it’s not any trouble, I’d really appreciate it.”

He smiled. “Sure thing. Be right back.”

Laurel took off the couch cushions and finished sweeping while she waited, then took one end of the tarp to help Jerome tape it up. Hopefully the paint wouldn’t peel later.

Just as they were securing it on all four sides, another crash sounded.

They both ducked back behind the cover of the walls, but after several beats of silence, Jerome poked his head out and glanced around. “Can’t see anything.”

Laurel checked as well, looking each way up the street, then down at the ground.

“Oh,” she gasped.

“Laurel?” Jerome was at her side in two steps.

“No, it’s nothing. Just… my violet.” She went out the door and picked her way over a couple shards of glass to where the shattered pot and a heap of dirt sat, her sad little flower barely sticking up out of it. She’d forgotten it was still sitting on the windowsill, and the tarp must have knocked it over. Laurel scooped it up and carried it back inside.

“I’m so sorry, Laurel.”

She plastered a smile to her face. “It was an accident. Really, Jerome, it’s fine.”

“You got another pot we could put it in?”

Laurel shook her head. “No. Um, I’ll try a tupperware and see if Pam can help me with it tomorrow.”

“You sure you’ll be alright here tonight?”

“Yes. But thank you.”

Her neighbor left and Laurel’s smile instantly fell. She looked at the wilted flower sitting in her hands. What was even the point?

Nevertheless, she found a tupperware and packed the dirt in around the plant’s roots. She sprinkled a little water over it and washed her hands, then sat down heavily at her table.

“Are you okay?”

She gasped but almost instantly calmed; Oliver stood near the back of the room with his hood pushed back. He must have entered through the kitchen door, even if she’d been sure it was locked.

“I’m fine. It was just some kids.” She waved a hand towards the tarp. “My neighbor helped me fix it.”

Oliver frowned and stepped closer. “You’re crying.”

Laurel rubbed at the tear tracks on her cheeks, pointless when he’d already seen them. “It’s not because — I’m okay. Just- my plant. It got knocked over.”

Oliver was eyeing her warily, like he was afraid the slightest word might set her off crying. “Your plant.”

“Yeah.” She crossed her arms. “I’m not hysterical. It’s just my boss sent it home with me so I could learn more about caring for flowers, so I know she’ll be disappointed if I’ve already killed it.” To her horror, a lump started to rise in her throat as she spoke, making the next words difficult. “And it’s one of the only things I had to make the place feel like a home, so yes, I am mourning it.”

“Laurel, I know how you think your clients would feel if you lied, but wouldn’t they rather you be there to help them?” Frustration was practically leaking from his tone.

“I can’t go back, Ollie. Don’t you see that’s how this starts? Corruption has this city in a chokehold, and no one is immune. If I lie to save my job, what’s to stop me from withholding a piece of evidence that makes my cases harder to win? Or stealing my dad’s files? Where does it end?”

“I’m worried about it ending out here for you,” he replied. “The Glades aren’t safe. That brick could have been an accident, or it could have been something deliberate.”

“Because billionaires hire teenagers to threaten ex-lawyers?” She almost laughed. “Oliver, I don’t have enemies. Those people in the top offices of corporations or the penthouse apartments, I guarantee they’ve forgotten about me already. I’m nobody.”

His face fell, and he shook his head. “No, you’re not.”

She couldn’t trust her voice to remain steady enough to reply to that. Instead she asked, “What were you doing here?”

“I was on my way to another person on the List.”

“Really? And you just happened to pass by the very minute someone threw a brick at my window?” She looked him in the eye. “You shouldn’t be watching over me. There are plenty of other people in this city who need your help more.”

“But this is the only way I’m allowed to help you.” His expression was pained. He hadn’t liked agreeing to keep his distance as Oliver Queen, but she hadn’t realized how much it might have hurt him.

Laurel got up from her chair and approached him. “I wish things didn’t have to be this way, but they do. And you have to trust me that I’ll ask for help when I need it.”

Oliver closed his eyes but nodded once. “I guess I can’t persuade you to use one of the Manor’s rooms until your window is replaced.”

“No, you can’t. You wouldn’t, not if you were really the person you’re trying to make everyone believe you are. I’ll be fine, Oliver.”

He stiffened for a moment and placed his hand to his ear where the comm to Diggle rested.

“You should get that.” Laurel turned back to her sitting room, busying herself with rearranging the pillows on the couch. When she looked up, he was gone again.

She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself for a moment, flicking the lights off as she retreated to her bedroom. With all the chaos on top of her exhaustion from work, Laurel readily fell asleep.

It was with only minor surprise that she woke the next morning to a text from Oliver himself.

The window people should be there by ten. If they’re not, let me know

That was so typical of him. She sent off a quick reply.

Why, so you can visit my landlord?

Laurel looked the message over again. It sounded harsh when she hadn’t meant to be. She knew he was just trying to help in whatever way he could.

I’m sure it will be fine. But thank you

I do miss you, she very nearly sent. But Laurel held herself back from hitting that button, erasing the words instead. There was little point to making him feel worse. Even if it was true.

---

Oliver sighed as he read Laurel’s messages. He wished he could do more than guarantee she had all her windows. But his involvement in her life had to be kept mostly a secret these days.

If he’d known his outspoken dislike for his vigilante alter ego would put this kind of restriction on his friendship with Laurel, he would have been more careful about what he said.

Put simply, he was stuck. If he tried to intervene as the Hood — visit CNRI’s benefactors, make them reconsider their hardline stance — Laurel could end up in far worse trouble, this time with the law. Would Lance even hesitate to arrest her? He’d used her as bait once.

About the only assistance he could offer was physical protection, and Laurel didn’t even want that. He knew she had a point about not wasting his nights, a point Diggle would no doubt agree with.

But it was hard to see what the point of all of this was. He would be at this mission forever if he went name by name on the list. He was no closer to figuring out what this Undertaking was or if that had been what his father wanted him to stop all those years ago. His mother had been rattled by his visit to her as the Hood, Tommy was jealous of an imaginary enemy, and Laurel had had to give up everything.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t see the benefit that came to him from her decision. To operate out of the Glades as he did, there was a certain amount of discretion he needed to rely on the residents to have. Laurel vouching for him gave him some legitimacy, some currency with those people he would have otherwise needed to work much harder to earn. He’d already had to change some of his routes coming to and from the base thanks to tips that were phoned in when Laurel had been reported missing.

Even her vote of confidence didn’t sway some people, though. Felicity had threatened to quit her tentative working relationship with the Hood the other night over his decision to target Ken Williams because of his status as a parent. Oliver had wanted to point out all the parents and children Williams’ pyramid scheme was stealing from, but John had talked him around to a more conciliatory approach. As a result, he was now committed to tracking down an art thief who had nothing to do with his father’s mission. Everything was just too much.

He decided to spend a little bit of time with Tommy in the club before their meeting with Felicity at Big Belly Burger.

“Finished moving all my stuff into the new place,” Tommy was telling him, his voice cheerful enough that Oliver knew there was something forced about it. “Still downtown, but it’s a bit smaller.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll settle in,” he said.

“Yeah. Just needs a few touches to start feeling homey. Maybe a girl or two.”

Oliver scrutinized his friend. “You really want to start dating again so soon?”

Tommy shook his head with a grin like he’d said something funny. “Not dating.”

“Tommy.”

“Look, Ollie, I tried it out, right? Turns out relationships are as bad as I always thought they’d be. Some of us just aren’t made for it,” he said, clapping Oliver on the shoulder. It was clear he was counting the both of them as part of this dubious ‘some’, which stung even as Oliver knew he probably deserved to be there.

Digg cleared his throat, and when Oliver looked over he saw why. Laurel was hovering near the back wall, clearly not wanting to approach while Tommy was with him.

“Tell you what, I’ve got a meeting to get to later, so I’m gonna go over the inventory real quick.” He clapped Tommy on the shoulder in return and headed down to the base.

He followed after John who had already led Laurel downstairs. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, the window people took care of it. Thanks again.”

“Okay.” Oliver stopped himself from asking why she had chosen to come here, then. Scaring her off was the last thing he wanted.

“I did some thinking at work today about our situation. How we can’t really be there for each other the way we might want to.”

That was certainly putting things lightly, but he couldn’t deny a warm feeling in his chest at the knowledge it had been bothering her, too.

“So I think I have a solution.”

“Oh?”

“I had the thought that since you seem to like lists, maybe I should make you one.” She took out a piece of paper that had clearly been ripped out of one of her old legal pads. Laurel held it out to him with a little flourish that almost reminded him of the girl who’d once presented him with her photo. The mix of happy and sad that memory represented had to be pushed down before he could refocus.

He scanned it over, catching items like bus route gangs and price gouging on medications. Oliver looked up.

“Laurel, what is this?”

“We both want this city to be better than it is, and since I’ve started living in the Glades I’ve learned so much more about what people are up against, just in their day to day lives,” she explained. “I can’t do anything in the courtroom, but I can pass along what I’ve found out to someone who can do something. And that way, you’re helping me like you want.”

He could get where she was coming from, but as he stared down at the list all he could see was another set of distractions from his father’s mission. One that in itself already felt an impossible task.

“Laurel, I want to help you be safe.”

“And this would help do that.”

“But how much? Do you have any idea how many gangs or dealers are out there? Small crime is never going to be completely stopped, and it’s only a symptom of the larger problems my father was dealing with.”

Her arms crossed. “So the people who are victims of small crime should just suffer?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean, Oliver? Whenever you talk about being the Hood, it always comes down to your father or the men he wanted you to go after. Is this your mission or his hit list?”

He took a step forward. “Hey—”

“What about the people you’re trying to help? Why not listen to what they want?”

“Because I’m not their hero!” He snapped. “Okay? I’m not some guardian angel. I’m a killer, Laurel. Just like my father was.”

She stared at him with wide eyes. He could feel Diggle’s silent gaze on him, too.

“There were three of us who made it to the life raft. Me, my father, and one of the crew. A few days after the boat sank, we were running low on supplies. My father took a gun, shot the crewman and himself, so that I could survive,” he confessed in a shaking voice. “I have to complete this mission, Laurel. Or else it would have been for nothing. I’ve already let too many distractions get in my way.”

Every minute he spent on this Dodger, or got involved in a petty theft, was time he should have expended on the list and its true meaning.

“Well, I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes downcast. “I’ll let you get on with it.” Oliver looked away as she turned and made for the exit.

“Here,” he heard Digg’s low murmur, and it didn’t surprise him in the least that the man took the paper. Wasn’t he always trying to get Oliver to do this or that thing?

But when he looked at the other man, Diggle had tucked Laurel’s list away somewhere out of sight. Oliver drew in a breath and released it slowly as he heard the door to the steps shut behind her. Gone again. How did he keep doing this?

And after all that, he still had to take on this art thief just to keep their tech support happy.

“Let’s get this over with.”

---

Ted was cooling off with some water when the door opened to admit someone who definitely wasn’t one of his regulars. Didn’t even look like she could be a regular.

“Can I help you?”

She spotted him after he called out to her and walked over. “Yes. I wanted to see what kind of classes you teach and if I could take one.”

Ted didn’t bother hiding his smirk. “Yeah, I don’t exactly have all that zumba and spin stuff that’s all the rage with you younger folks.”

Her returning smile was tight and unamused. “Well, good thing I’m not interested in that.”

He shrugged and went over to grab one of his adverts. “You can have a look at that, then.”

He watched her eyes scan over the pages, and as he studied her he couldn’t help thinking there was something familiar about her. Like he’d seen her face before.

“Can a beginnner try boxing, or are your lessons just for people who already know it?”

“I take anybody that can prove they’re committed to learning it. What has you interested?”

She looked up, and it suddenly clicked why he thought she belonged more on TV than in a boxing ring — he had seen her on TV.

“I’ve had self defense training, and now I’m looking for something a little more.”

“Is that because of your Hood friend?” He turned away. “Forget it, I’m not getting involved in the vigilante’s problems.”

“I’m more than somebody’s problem.”

He stopped and looked back. There was something in her eyes — not the desperate, lost look of some of his usuals who needed release from the pain life had dealt them, but a steely determination that belied her painted lips and comfy sweater all the same.

“That’s fair. Alright then, what’s your story?”

She eyed him for a moment. “I lost my job last month, so I’m living in the Glades now. There’s been some rough nights.”

“There always are. Why’d it bring you here?”

“Because I want to be able to handle them on my own.”

That was interesting. “And not the vigilante?”

She shook her head. “He does what he does for the city, not for me.”

She didn’t look to be lying. And the truth was, Ted would be an idiot to gain a reputation for turning down clients. “Alright, I’ll start you on a trial basis, see if you like it. Then we’ll talk regular lessons.”

She nodded. “That’s fair.”

When she turned to leave, it occurred to Ted they hadn’t sorted out one small matter. “Hold up! I didn’t get your name.”

She paused, glancing at him over her shoulder. “I thought you recognized me.”

“Your face. Didn’t remember your name. You get knocked on the head sometimes in the ring,” he added. And on the streets, an old voice whispered in the back of his mind.

The woman smirked. “Laurel.”

“Alright, Laurel. I’ll see you on Tuesday for your lesson.”

“See you, Ted.”

She walked out with her hands resting in her pockets. There was a swagger to her beneath that girl-next-door veneer, a toughness that was coming to the surface the more life wore away at her. Ted felt himself grin.

He could work with this.

[whoiscredencept2]

I just had my first Gradence idea for the first time in forever (this year??) and I was doing the most mundane thing.

It’s a modern-day kind of AU so keep that in mind.

This is a looooooong Gradence post and might as well have just been a oneshot.

I had this nice idea of Percival and Credence moving out of a city condo and into this big rich suburban area. Yeah, the condo was more of Percival's style and while Credence didn’t really mind where he lived as long as there was a roof over his head, he didn’t mind much. Maybe they kind of had a deep talk about the future and the idea of kids sipped up. They still have no idea when they want them or even if they do. Also, feel like Percival would become kind of aware early on that Credence doesn’t voice his want for something (perhaps he and Credence had to work on the emotion of want for a little while), he just goes with the flow of things. So Percy brings up in the conversation that maybe Credence would like his own space to work or do whatever. In conclusion here they agree that a bigger space wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Moving day gets here, they’ve been packing what they can for days. Percival has taken a few days off to make sure all the big moving gets down and Credence isn’t overwhelmed with that himself. While Percival goes back to work and Credence is left home, he pretty much gives himself the job to unpack all the smaller things like whatever is left that they didn’t put up together. Credence is deciding where to put all the old home decor that’s not enough to fill the room when there’s a knock. Like a stereotypical homebody, he hates to open the door but also hates to ignore it. After giving himself a short pep talk to the door, he opens it to a man and woman holding a plate. Obviously neighbors. “Hi, we noticed that you just moved in and want to be neighborly. Is your father home?” Poor Credence is just stunned that this woman referred to Percival as his father and even though it’s happened before, usually Percival is there to say something. “N-No, his not...” At this point Credence is feeling awkward, uncomfortable, and just already ready for this awkward conversation to be over. “Oh, dear...” The woman is exchanging a look to the man. “We’d like to give these to you.” The woman is handing over the plate that’s covered in tinfoil. Credence takes it without much thought and with a polite ‘thank you’ they finally walk away.

The plate is long forgotten on the kitchen counter as soon as Credence goes back to unpacking. It’s starting to look more like a home but still very empty though maybe more would have been put away if Credence didn’t take a nap but all is forgiven as soon as Percival walks through the door with Chinese take out. The grocery shopping still needs to be done. A nice, short smooch is shared between the two before they’re off the kitchen. Credence is trying to remember where he put the utensils and Percival is asking about the plate with tinfoil. Apparently, there’s cookies under it. Credence explains what happened when he answered the door which leads Percival into laughter. Of course Percival thinks it’s funny, it’s never not funny to him when he explains that they are indeed together.

I was going to make maybe one or two more paragraphs on them and I mean Percival toying with everyone and maybe there’s just a real quiet night and they kind of get called on because someone heard some screaming and then they have to explain that they’re full grown as men that just so happen to be together. Talk about awkward and kind of ticked off they start to get when the ‘polite’ neighbors start sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong.

[ashfountainfanfics]

“This is ridiculous,” Mike sighs in exasperation, “my friends and I had nothing to do with any of this.”

The detective at the other end of the table doesn’t seem to accept this. She’s a recent transplant from another state. Most of the Derry police department leaves Mike be, summing up his interest in police matters as a side effect of his fascination with Derry history. She doesn’t seem to be interested in giving that same assumption.

“You keep saying that,” she pushes, “but I think it’s strange that you show up to all the crime scenes and that two of your friends harassed one of the victims. Not to mention that Henry Bowers was found dead under your place of residency.”

Mike is growing more and more frustrated. It was surreal when the police showed up at dinner last night. The Losers Club plus the small group of cops nearly overwhelmed the small Italian place they’d been enjoying.

Bev, Ben, and Eddie are sitting in the lobby while Richie and Bill are in cuffs. Mike is somewhere between the two options or so he figures. He’s not sure he likes those odds.

Detective Lopez fixes him with a look that lacks any hint of retreat or gentility. She’s a no nonsense kind of woman. Her curly, dark hair is cropped in a pixie cut and her face is bare and set in a deadpan expression. Her blouse is a gray button up and the lanyard of her badge is tucked under her collar.

“It’s a small town,” Mike responds, “coincidences are everywhere.”

“Nothing is ever just a coincidence. Did you know Mr. Bowers?”

Mike calmly explains how Henry Bowers was the resident bully when they were children. How often that bullying went past simple pranks and low grade violence. To stop at calling Henry a bully was like trying to call Ted Bundy just an unfortunate date.

“You can ask Ben about his scar, that should give you a clue.”

“I understand that Mr Bowers had a history of violence and mental illness-“

“Being an angry white boy is not a mental illness,” Mike points out.

“Agreed,” Detective Lopez says flatly, “but that isn’t my point. My point is that several children and a man named Adrian Melon are dead and the escape of Mr. Bowers does not correlate with those deaths.”

“It doesn’t correlate with the arrival of my friends either. They weren’t here.”

“But you were.”

Mike is taken aback by the remark. All this time he’s been keeping watch, dreading the day that Derry needed saving but looking to save it nonetheless. Not that this town ever gifted him much beyond tolerance. He has no adult friends here, no significant others, only a series of routine faces that note his presence. Derry, Maine isn’t friendly or good. It’s not even scenic but he wanted to save it anyway. His jaw tightens.

“Of course I was here. I live in Derry. I’ve lived here most of my life, where else would I be?”

“You didn’t know these kids. You didn’t know Adrian Melon. Why did you visit the crime scenes? What business did you have being there?”

Detective Lopez is standing over him now with her hands planted on the table. She does this all calmly with very direct body movements. She never lets her frustration get to her. She harnesses it into orderly conduct and in a way it’s terrifying.

But she’s an outsider without all the facts. You can tell she comes from a big city by her demeanor and her thought process. Often a crime is committed by someone close to the victim or someone that makes themselves close. Contrary to the movies, the person most likely to kill you is the one in plain sight and right next to you. Monsters that hide in the dark and stalk you like prey aren’t the norm.

Mike is glad that he and his friends got rid of that norm for Derry.

“Detective Lopez? Have you ever seen someone die-“

“Of course I have. I’m a homicide detective.”

“I wasn’t finished,” Mike insists, “I was asking if you’ve ever seen someone die when you were a child?”

This gives her pause. Her elbows soften the smallest amount and her hesitancy is plain to Mike. She doesn’t sit. There’s no way she’s backing down that quickly but it’s clear she’s listening.

“I can’t say I have, why?”

“If you take the time to look into me a bit more you’ll know that my parents died in a fire and I was in the other room. I was too little to help them. I couldn’t save them.”

Now Detective Lopez sits down. Her posture is unnaturally straight and her gaze is still unwavering. This is either the best she can do to convey being receptive or it’s the most she’s willing to give.

“Can you imagine the sort of impact that has? I couldn’t even put down a sheep on the farm I grew up on. The idea of causing harm to anyone or anything, indirect or necessary or otherwise, still makes me sick. So please, Detective Lopez, don’t insult me with what you’re trying to infer.”

“Be blunt then. What were you doing?”

“Trying to see if there was a way to stop it. If you look at our history, you’ll see there’s a pattern. Every 27 years since the town was formed, a stretch of terrible things happen. That’s longer than I’ve been alive. Longer than my family’s been in Derry.

I thought maybe if I could pay attention for the next phase I could find the connection. I could save them.”

Mike can see that she’s regarding him as an absolute looney but Mike hopes it’s the harmless kind. She can picture him tinfoil hat and all if it means she doesn’t see him as a murderer.

“And what did you find?”

Mike decides that this is as good a time as any to tell one last lie. It’s not like she’d understand the truth of the matter. She’s the type to only accept hard facts and indisputable evidence. There isn’t anything he can show her to back the truth. Nothing but a lot of rubble on Neibolt street.

“I found nothing. Whatever makes this town the way it is, it’s not for me to understand.”

It’s not entirely a lie. Pennywise was just a part of what made Derry the way it is. Its death isn’t going to cure Derry of its bigotry overnight. There will still be small minded people, violent people. Mike will never understand that.

“So you’re giving up? Just like that?”

“I almost died because a literal living relic of my past broke out of an insane asylum and tried to kill me. I think that’s a sufficient wake up call that I’ve wasted too much time on this town and my own baggage.”

Mike can’t tell if she’s buying it or not. Detective Lopez gives away nothing. She’s an absolute professional to the core. Mike respects that. Derry could use someone on the force who can’t be swayed.

“I may need you to call you back in to corroborate a few stories so don’t skip town,” she gives him a curt nod, “You’re free to go.”

Detective Lopez opens the door to Mike’s freedom. Mike has a feeling that the others have been given similar instructions or that they will be given them. He wonders briefly if they should have thought ahead to confirm a set story with each other but he thinks better of it. None of the Losers are crazy enough to tell the truth.

“Hanlon, wait,” the detective stops him as soon as he’s out of the door frame, “tell your comedian friend that making jokes isn’t going to work with me. It’s not endearing and he’s digging a much bigger hole for himself.”

“Ma’am, with all due respect, trying to get him to stop is a joke in and of itself.”

—-

“Her first name is Jennifer!” Richie shouts as if wounded, “Last name Lopez! What did you want me to do?”

Richie can tell that his lawyer is not amused. His voice sounds really far away and it is. He’s driving to Derry as fast as he can.

“Richie, this isn’t your usual legal trouble. This isn’t stolen material or a damaged room-“

“That was one time and I was still a baby! How was I supposed to know what ecstasy looks like? You’re about to see the podunk town I grew up in, man.”

“They’re talking homicide!”

“I still cry over Bambi, for fuck’s sake. Do you seriously think I’d kill anyone for fun?”

“Of course not.”

Roger Clemming has been Richie’s lawyer since the start of his career. He’s a cousin of his manager and normally Roger has no qualms about representing Richie. Most of his legal cases aren’t even his; the man doesn’t write his own stand up so he can’t exactly be held responsible if it’s stolen. Richie Tozier is an easy client.

“I didn’t even mean to kill him. He had Mike and it was clear that old Bowers was totally batshit. I reacted. I don’t know.”

“So we have a witness. That’s good. The more witnesses the better. I just wish you hadn’t pissed off the Detective.”

“Yeah yeah I’m an asshole but I didn’t say anything about the case. And I stayed away from ass jokes!”

“I’m sure that’s what will save you.”

The Derry police station is not a big place. The holding cell is visible to the front lobby and there’s only two private rooms; the sheriff’s office and an interrogation room. Richie can see Eddie, his arms crossed and his face looking like he bit into a lemon.

Stressed out, Eddie spaghetti? You’re not on this end of the station.

“Be honest with me, Roger, am I going to jail or not?” Richie clings to a rare moment of seriousness.

“You defended someone from an escaped convict. If you sit back and don’t make an ass out of yourself we may not even go to court.”

Richie sighs and he wishes he could telepathically share this news with Eddie. He stares down Eddie in the hopes that somehow they do share a psychic link. Eddie remains pissed at some very specific wall instead.

“And, uh, my friend? Bill?”

“I’m not sure a trial can be avoided on that, but as long as there’s no physical evidence then the best they’ve got is circumstantial with no real motive. They’ll be grasping at straws if they charge him. Dead kids do make for angry parents though and sometimes they’ll pull a guy to trial because they’ve got no one else to blame.”

“So 50/50 chance?”

“40/60 of an arrest being made and I can’t begin to estimate the odds on him being found guilty. That all comes down to the kind of town your Derry, Maine.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!” Richie groans and buries his face into his free hand.

“Watch it, Tozier,” the nearby cop warns him.

Richie apologizes and feigns composure.

“Sorry kid,” Roger’s using his turn signal given the soft ticking in the background, “I’ll do my best but I make no promises.”

Richie mutters a sentiment of gratitude before hanging up. It would still be the better part of a day and a half before his representation gets here. Technically he’s not even sure if Bill wants Roger to represent him but Richie figures it couldn’t hurt to arrange it. After all, do either of them really want to trust whatever a Derry lawyer looks like?

---

Bill settles in for the night. To be honest, he’s slept in far more uncomfortable places than a holding cell. He wasn’t always a big famous writer. He remembers when he had to sleep in his shitty, used Toyota back in the early days. Now he’s got two houses, a celebrity wife, and a second movie deal. None of which he’s particularly sure he wants anymore.

It’s startling how unconcerned Bill is about the charge against him. He’s been taken in on suspicion of murder but Bill knows damn well he didn’t kill that kid and Detective Lopez doesn’t have much of anything on him except that he was seen yelling at the child earlier at the day and had been spotted at the carnival. 

Bill didn’t want to seem entirely unhelpful though despite knowing they were never going to catch what killed that boy. He offered an account of what he thought was an animal attack but it was difficult to make out. Richie’s lawyer probably won’t like that he talked without him present but Bill doesn’t really care.

Bill blamed the yelling on a mental breakdown. His hometown memories were complicated and a failing marriage and work pressure wasn’t helping. When he saw a kid about Georgie’s age living in his old house, he lost it. It was easy to sell this because it wasn’t really a lie. Detective Lopez did make a comment to Bill about how childhood trauma seems very convenient in this town but Bill didn’t know how to respond outside of confusion.

“All right, everyone,” a tired cop announces into the lobby, “Y’all should get yourselves to bed. Visiting hours are over.”

The other members of the Loser’s Club are essentially draped across each other in the lobby and half asleep already. Ben is in the middle like some sort of handsome centerpiece. He has an arm over Beverly and Mike is leaning on his free shoulder. Meanwhile, Eddie is sitting on the floor at Ben’s feet looking tense and irritated.

They gather themselves up except for Eddie who continues to sit on the floor.

“Eddie, honey,” Beverly says softy, “it’s time to go.”

“Richie and Bill didn’t do anything wrong. I will leave when they do.”

Bill chuckles a bit at this and looks over to Richie on the other side of the holding cell. The look on his face gives him pause because it’s not what he was expecting. Eddie looks genuinely frightened in here. He’s also watching Eddie as if looking at the last boat on a sinking ship; one that’s just too far out of reach. Bill isn’t sure what to make of that.

“They’ll be okay,” Mike assures the sulking man on the floor, “I know these cops. They’re decent.”

Eddie doesn’t respond.

“Sweetie,” Bev is getting a hint of irritation to her voice, “we can come back in the morning.”

“I refuse to get up. This is a protest.”

Bev sighs and looks to Ben.

“We’re going to have to force him.”

“Force him?” Ben asks back incredulously, “Force him how?”

“Ben, he weighs 90 pounds soaking wet, what do you think?”

“Oh Lord,” Mike immediately understands the implication.

Ben thinks about it for a second and it dawns on him the same exact time it dawns on Eddie. Ben is briefly horrified by the idea.

“You wouldn’t” Eddie challenges him.

Ben looks helplessly at Bev who shrugs as if to say that there’s no other way. Eddie recoils as Ben clearly accepts his orders and approaches Eddie with strong arms ready to lift him. His stance is that of someone attempting to capture a wild animal.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t you fucking touch me!” Eddie screams while rapidly kicking his legs to slide away.

Bill again turns to get Richie’s reaction to all this. He’s pleased to see Richie desperately stifling a chuckle. The cop stationed here for the evening seems to be frozen in disbelief as one grown man is trying to catch another and that other fully grown adult man is essentially crab scuttling his way to safety.

On reflex, Eddie sends a hard kick and gets Ben right in the shin. Ben stops his pursuit to cradle it.

“Eddie! What the hell!?” Bev scolds him.

“Now that’s enough!” the cop finally sees fit to reanimate, “I’ve seen some bull shit in my day but I won’t have a brawl in the station! Sort yourself out or I’ll put you in holding! Got it?”

Eddie gets up from the floor.

“Oh no,” Richie says quietly.

Bill’s confused but looks back to the scene playing out before him. Eddie looks apologetic and humbly confronts Ben.

“Sorry, Ben” he says meekly.

“It’s just my shin,” Ben responds, “It’ll bruise but it’s fine.”

“No, I’m sorry about this.”

Eddie uses his whole body to send a punch right into the side of Ben’s scruffy and very shocked face. Eddie’s fist retreats just as quickly as it had departed and he’s shaking out the pain of contact. Ben cups his cheek, obviously not very wounded. The man’s essentially built like a brick house for fuck’s sake. This does get the cop moving though.

Eddie is escorted into the holding cell with Bill and Richie. Richie looks in awe of Eddie either because he was so reckless or stupid Bill can’t figure which. He does have sneaking suspicion however that Eddie’s little stunt has more to do with Richie than with Bill himself.

Eddie is still pouting and sits square on the floor all over again.

“The little guy will be free to go after he cools down, unless you want to press charges,” the cop asks Ben.

“What? No. No… it’s fine.”

Mike quietly exits as quickly as possible. He’s clearly done with the nonsense that just played out. Bev and Ben stay behind a minute as Bev checks his cheek over again. Bill can make out the soft conversation they’re having but just barely. She’s apologizing for her plan, saying she didn’t think Eddie would fight that much.

“No no, it was a good idea,” Ben assures her.

Bill can see the way that comment washes over her. Ben was always full of a certain sincerity and purity that none of the other Losers ever really had. He’s soft and probably the only one of them that didn’t end up with a ridiculous amount of paranoia or cynicism. Bill doubts that Ben is unscathed but it looks like he at least had the good sense not to unleash his unknown trauma on anyone else.

Unlike Bill and his marriage to Audra.

It’s painfully clear to Bill right now just how much Audra looks like Beverly. They’ve got similar frames, similar facial structures and they’re both redheads. Granted, Audra’s red comes from a salon but it suits her as naturally as it does Bev. They could be sister’s.

‘Why can’t you be how I want you to be?’ Bill remembers saying to Audra not long before he took off to Derry. He’s disgusted with the comment now. He’s disgusted with the fact that he kissed Beverly and it meant more to him than his entire marriage. He’s disgusted with himself.

“See you in the morning, boys,” Bev waves to everyone in holding.

She doesn’t give Bill any special treatment. No lingering eye contact or wistful gaze. It’s as if she never had a crush on him at all, as if they’ve never shared anything. Before it always felt as if she was looking to Bill and now she’s looking at Ben.

Despite a sense of heartbreak, Bill takes comfort in that difference.

---

There’s only two beds in the holding cell. One of which is already taken up by Bill who is sound asleep. Eddie is still sitting on the floor and up against the wall. He watches for the cop to doze off. Sure enough, he’s starting to snore in his chair.

Eddie quietly and carefully scootches over to Richie. Richie’s been lying on other cot, entertaining himself with some sort of impromptu, silent puppet show. He breaks from it as he notices Eddie encroaching on his personal bubble.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers.

“Hi…” Richie answers.

Eddie isn’t sure of how to move forward. Originally he had mapped out exactly what to say after the gang’s celebratory dinner. He was going to apologize for kissing Richie, explain again that he had panicked. He would ask that they move forward from this and go back to normal. He wanted to reassure him that he is very alive and not going to die anytime soon too. He wanted to know how much it meant to him that Richie cared so much. He never knew he was that important to anyone.

Eddie did not plan on embracing his inner chaos and landing himself in a cell for the night. He still isn’t entirely sure what came over him in that moment. The idea of leaving just hit so hard and quickly that he couldn’t do it.

“I went to jail for you,” he glares at Richie.

Well that’s not a good start, Eddie mentally notes.

“I see this. I’ll file it under your list of uncharacteristically brave fuckery.”

“I mean that I want to talk. We need to talk.”

“Oh.”

There’s a pause between them. That pause grows into a prolonged period. That period slinks into awkward silence. Eddie is aware since he brought up the conversation that he should actually start it but his head is empty. All he can think about is how the stab wound in his cheek hurts and how flustered Richie looks.

“Look, man,” Richie gives in, “We don’t have to talk. I get it. You panicked. Case closed. Mystery solved. We both deserve a Scooby snack for that epic conclusion.”

Eddie realizes for the first time that Richie is hiding behind his humor. He feels like an idiot for not noticing sooner but his eyes are a dead give away. Richie is making more eye contact now than usual. It’s like he’s forcing himself to present a put together facade. He’s watching Eddie to make sure he believes it.

Eddie wonders if it might be prudent to look at Richie in a different light. In childhood, he was always just that asshole friend. He liked to pick on him but never past annoyance. You’d think trying to steer clear of Henry Bowers would have made Eddie resistant to a friendship built on teasing. In retrospect, Eddie’s not sure what did open him up to it. By all logical accounts, Richie shouldn’t mean much of anything to Eddie and vice versa.

“Why do you do that?” he decides to approach it directly.

“I’m a comedian, Eds. Cracking a bad joke is as natural to me as breaking wind.”

Eddie could easily feed into this but he doesn’t want to. He physically sits up straighter and takes a calm breath in. It’s tempting to write Richie off as immature and continue down the rabbit hole of humor at Eddie’s expense but he refuses. Richie is keeping a secret of some kind which seems painfully obvious to Eddie now. If he’s ever going to move forward from recent events he’ll need to know what it is.

“What are hiding?” he leans in close.

Richie’s face loses all color. He stammers for a moment and Eddie is secretly pleased with himself. He’s so used to Richie getting at him that it is deeply satisfying for the tables to turn. Eddie tries not to stay in that mentality though. He wants answers not revenge.

“Bill’s the one with the stutter,” Eddie points out, “fess up. You’re hiding something from me and you’re using your crap jokes to do it. I won’t go to sleep until you tell me what’s going on.”

It seems a little overkill but Eddie is feeling the dramatics today. They saved each other’s lives earlier. They should be able to talk. Eddie debates their closeness as he waits for an answer. Sometimes it felt like they were the closest two people in the room and other times they were the furthest. Eddie wants to know why.

“I- uh,” Richie is sweating at the forehead, “I want to say first that- shit no. Okay, growing up I- fuck no that’s going to take forever.”

Eddie continues to glare down his friend. It’s not that he wants to force the truth out of him but rather his concern is growing. Showing Richie his soft side doesn’t come naturally though. So here he is trying to be a good friend but acting like a displeased asshole.

“Okay, here goes,” Richie takes in a breath of confidence, “Dinner.”

“...dinner?”

“Yes.”

“What about… dinner?” Eddie says bewildered before getting accusatory, “I swear to God, Rich, if this is a set up to a mom joke I’ll-“

“Dinner!” Richie says again a bit too loud.

The guard stirs. The two men freeze. A few seconds later a loud snore emerges. Eddie sighs in relief. He’s done just enough to end up in here. He doesn’t want to get in enough trouble to stay.

“You and me. Dinner. Us. Dinner. Together. Y’know, dinner?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and relaxes his shoulders. So it’s not a joke about his mom but a joke nonetheless.

“Oh. I get it. Ha ha, very funny. Like a date,” Eddie comments sarcastically.

“Yes.”

Richie isn’t grinning. He not casually avoiding eye contact either as he does with a usual set up. Instead he’s looking directly at Eddie with everything he’s got. It’s the ‘please believe me’ look from before but in an entirely different context. It’s sincere.

Jesus Christ, I think he fucking means it, Eddie panics.

“Okay,” he finds himself saying even as confused internal screaming fills his insides.

“Shit. Really?” Richie is as shocked as Eddie is.

“Yeah.”

“You’re going on a date.”

“Yes.”

“With me.”

“I guess.”

This is all on the premise that Richie is released in time for a date. He may end up in real jail. Then what would they do? A prison dinner date doesn’t have the most enticing ring to it.

Eddie feels like a part of him has detached from his own brain. Whatever his body is doing is past his control now. The surrealism of this unexpected direction broke him.

“Move over,” Eddie demands quietly.

Richie backs up as far as can, looking absolutely befuddled. Eddie climbs into the small space left on the cot. He’s tired. There’s only two cots and one is taken. It makes direct sense to share at least when you’re not entirely in your own body anyway.

Eddie remembers briefly about how the two of them would often share the hammock as kids. Eddie unceremoniously plopped himself in and fought for space so often that it became customary. He never did it to anyone but Richie though. He was the only one.

Richie braves putting an arm around Eddie and at first Eddie’s spine goes rigid. He’s not ready to think about this, not even sure if acting on it is right yet. He still feels far away from all this even as he Richie’s body heat cradles him.

Something about the way Richie’s hand cups the small of his stomach feels...good. Eddie’s body relaxes and he realizes how fucking exhausted he is. It’s been an exceptionally long 48 hours. A little shut eye and a cuddle isn’t so ludicrous. Even if it is with Richie Trashmouth Tozier.

“Just keep it in your pants,” Eddie yawns before falling asleep.