#there's this one shot where he's literally crouching over mike and covering him with his body so that he doesn't get hurt

[ice-sculptures]

don't mind me i'm just thinking about jonathan shielding and protecting mike and will throughout the whole shootout

[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (xii.)

A/n: wow, we only have 2 more chapters after This! This series has gone by way too quickly!

Summary: It's time you stop playing games. Brian and Connor are here to make sure it comes to an end.

Warnings: none? But it is told in both Brian's and Connor's POV, so like that's new.

Word count: 2k

***

Two confessions. I've got the two confessions that I needed - even though, let's be real, they didn't need to say it for me to know, but it helps. The only difficult thing now is getting them in the same room together so that they can admit to each other too. They're both so stubborn it's nearly impossible to get either of them to see that what they're doing is hurting them more than it is helping. But that's where I come in. But I'm gonna need a little help if I'm going to pull this off. So I'm in search of the one person that knows y/n better than Shawn does.

I text Connor after I leave y/n', informing him that I'm on my way to his room.

"What's so important that you couldn't just text me?" He asks, opening the door wide enough for me to slip through.

"I have a project for you."

"For me?" He crosses his arms over his chest and sits down on the arm rest of the couch.

"Yeah, I need you to take your footage from the last few months of tour and I need you to look for something in it."

"Okay… what am I looking for?"

"Anything and everything that has to do with Shawn and y/n."

"What?"

"We're getting them together," I say like it's the most obvious thing in the world, which it should be.

He doesn't say anything for a long while. Actually I start to doubt if he even heard that last part, but then he sighs heavily. "Brian, I can't help you."

"What? Why?"

"It's complicated," he answers, but I know it isn't. Because these are two people we care so much about, there shouldn't be anything complicated about it. "Please, Connor. You have to help me get them together. I can't stand seeing them pining for each other like this anymore."

He shakes his head, "I promised her that I'd stay out of their relationship, or whatever it is now. I just can't. It's not that I don't want to, but I can't betray her like that."

"Dude! You'd be helping her out!"

"You may see it that way, but-"

"No, listen." I sit on the edge of the table. "You film literally everything. I know you do. You have probably hours of footage of them just goofing around in the dressing room, and walking down the street holding hands, and leaning on each other in the restaurants. This is what we need to get them there. If you just compile it up, I'm sure it will get them to realize that they need each other."

"Okay," he nods. "Yes, I have all that, but she would kill me if she knew I was filming them all that time."

I sigh and run my hands roughly over my face, "Connor, for one second. Just one second, I need you to stop thinking about what she's going to feel towards you. I know she's your best friend, you don't want to betray her trust. I get that because I feel the same about Shawn. But we're hurting them more by not helping them. We're letting them be miserable when it's the most obvious thing in the world that they want to be together. That they need each other. Not pushing them is selfish."

"Okay, and what if this push isn't what they need? What if this push actually ruins them? What do we do then? Are we going to have to live with knowing that their downfall could have been avoided had we not inserted ourselves into their personal relationship. I don't want that to be on our shoulders. I don't want that on your shoulders."

"What is it that makes you so fucking sure that they'll break up?"

"Because they're just how she and I were!"

I stare at him for a minute, trying to figure out if he's for real or not. "So you did have a thing."

He just nods, "Yeah. We did."

"Is that why you won't help? Because you're still hung up on her? Because I swear to god, I will drop kick you so hard right now if that's the reason."

Connor holds his hands up, "No! Jesus, I really need to stop pausing before I continue talking. I don't want her back. I don't. She and I both know that us going out was a mistake." He runs his fingers through his hair, "I don't want her to experience that again. Because we didn't talk for months after we broke up, and it was a mural break up."

"She's twenty-one. Let her live a little, damn. You can't protect her from heartbreak, Con. If it happens, it happens. You're not her brother. You're not her father. You're not her protector. She's very capable of making her own decisions about a guy. And she wants him."

"How do you know she still does?"

"Because she told me literally two seconds ago. Just like she told me the only reason she won't get with him while We're on tour is because she doesn't want him to get too used to them being with each other all the time."

"What are you talking about?"

"Eventually Josiah is gonna come back for tour. And y/n is going to be back at home doing photoshoots there. She doesn't want him getting comfortable with that consistency."

"You see? That! That's why I'm scared for her! I'm worried that it's not going to be consistent. That he won't be consistent."

"He may not always be in the same place," I agree, "but he's never not been there when someone needed him. You know that. You know that he would drop everything if she needed him."

He sighs and looks down at his feet, his hands in his pockets. "I know."

"So are you gonna help me or not?"

---

So now I'm sitting here, going through my footage with Brian ghosting over my shoulder, watching me choppily put the snippets together just to have them saved.

"I like this one," he points to my screen where y/n and Shawn are trying and failing to copy Shakira's 'hips don't lie' choreography. The video is kinda shaky because I'm trying to get closer to them, but I'm laughing so hard that my body is shaking too. The video cuts out shortly after they land on the couch, y/n's body on top of Shawn's, her head resting on his fast beating chest while they remain cackling.

"Yeah, I like it too," I drag the video to my editor and we go through more.

"What's this one?" Brian's finger hovers over a snippet marked "Staying in Paris." I click on it, scrolling through until I find the part I know is there. They're in front of the lit up Eiffel tower, it's late. Her camera covers most of her face while she takes a picture of Zubin and Eddy back to back on the grass in front of her. She's focused on them, but his eyes don't stray from her. When she stands from her crouching position, his hand almost immediately finds the small of her back. When I played the footage back the first time, I brushed this off as him trying to steady her, but I see the pure longing in his eyes now, and when she very subtly falls into his touch, I know it was more than that.

Video after video I put them to edit, until I have nearly fifteen minutes of just them. Moments that I know they aren't aware I was filming. Like on the first night of tour. They're, for the most part, alone in his dressing room and she's fixing the shoulders of his shirt. You can barely hear them over the chaos down the hall, but you can just catch y/n say, "Trying to kill these girls with your chest hair, Mendes?"

"Only trying to get one girl's attention," his hands are on her arms, rubbing half circles on her skin with his thumbs.

Then there's one from the San Antonio show, we're at Starbucks and y/n is reaching into her bag for her money, but Shawn placed his hand over hers, ordering his drink and then handing the barista his card. Y/n tries to push his hand away but he chuckles and wraps his arm loosely around her waist, his hand on her thigh. He takes his card back and they move to the side so Mike can order his drink.

I find one that I know Brian will want for the video. The kiss from the dressing room. But the one we're watching now is horrible quality because it's from my phone, and it was that night at the bar. You can barely see because of the dark light in the room, but you see her lips touch Shawn's and the shot glass that was between his teeth just seconds before now slides between their close bodies.

"You got this one?" He asks, looking down at me and I just nod.

"I don't know why I thought to get it, I just did, I guess. I mean, we obviously don't have to use it, but-"

"No. No, use it. Use them all. This is - this is exactly what we need."

I close my computer and turn to face my red-headed friend. "So, we have a video. What are we gonna do to get them in the same place?"

"Well, first. How long is it going to take you to edit that?" He gestures toward the laptop and I shrug.

"I don't know. A week, maybe? It just depends on how much time I have when I'm not editing the behind the scenes stuff."

"Okay… I have a plan. It's gonna be tricky, but I think we can make it happen if we get a little more help."

I nod, "Lay it on me."

---

(Bold is Connor's POV, regular is Brian, bold italics is both)

This plan took nearly the rest of tour to execute, let me just tell you. It was nearly four months of planning and I'm still not even sure if we did everything we said we were going to. But Brian was convinced that we could pull this off and so far, so good. There were, of course, a couple of almost slip ups, but we were able to save ourselves from having to explain ourselves, and our plan to Andrew, who would no doubt throw a tantrum if he found out what we were up to. And it's both fortunate and not that y/n and Shawn still aren't talking to each other. They're much better at being around each other though. They can finally stand in the same room without one of them coming up with an excuse to leave. But I don't see that being the case tonight. One of them was bound to go into fight or flight mode when they saw what Brian and I had cooked up.

"Dude, what's the rush?"

"Why are you so eager to get to the roof?"

"The lighting is perfect. You'll get the best photos."

"It's nice outside. I just want to enjoy the fresh air. And since when do you have something against roofs?"

"I don't."

"Okay, but bouncing in place relentlessly isn't going to make me tie my shoes faster. If anything it'll only make me go slower."

"Please, y/n."

"Please, Shawn."

"Jesus, alright. I just need to get my camera and we can go."

"Okay, okay. Let me get my phone. Don't think I'll need it, but just in case."

I send a quick text to Brian when we leave her room.

We're in the elevator.

He's quick to reply.

Just about to head that way. Make sure she's not facing the door.

I know that what's about to happen doesn't necessarily have anything to do with me, but I can feel my stomach turning all the same. I'm scared something will go wrong. But I push the fear to the side when we reach the roof.

No turning back now.

***

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[alltimewhat]

ABCs of Death

Fun fact: I cried writing this one and it’s literally not even for the reason you’d expect

C contains: BLOOD, GORE, BODY HORROR, and DEATH

CHARACTER(S) THAT DIE IN THIS FIC: dustin

A/B/C/D/E/F/G

C is for Cat

“Where did the Hub say the malfunction was, again?” Dustin’s voice crackled to life through the Hub’s speakers. 

Lucas moved to the screens at the front of the Hub, the massive space station they were all living on until they reached X2504, the alien planet they were supposed to be studying. There were cameras littered all throughout the station’s halls and rooms, a precaution in case the crew came into contact with something dangerous. There was a wide screen above the ones that displayed the camera’s views, with its own series of images. Currently, the ship’s malfunction warning was blaring through the dark, enclosed room. Lucas frowned, flipping a few switches before pressing the illuminated white ‘COMM’ button in the center of the control panel.

“Looks like the atmospheric intake regulator. Possibly built up pressure, just try stirring the tanks and see if the warning clears.” He said into the mic. He was able to watch Dustin as the other scientist made his way down the hallway. He was wearing light protective gear, just enough to avoid the heat of the maintenance hall and the equipment keeping the space station running; its vital organs. He saw Dustin give a thumbs up to one of the cameras on the way down- his toolbox took two hands to carry and he would have to set it down to use his comm. 

Behind Lucas, Will limped into the room, his left leg swaddled in tight bandages and his hair mussed from sleep.

“What’s he doing?” He mumbled, his voice thick and deep in his chest.

“We’ve got a problem in the atmos regulators. He’s gonna try stirring them to see if that helps. How’s the leg?” Lucas spun his chair around as Will wandered around the Hub’s main room. He yawned widely before humming deeply.

“Same as yesterday. You seen anymore of those things wandering around?” He asked, dropping into the chair next to Lucas’, a hot cup of tea clutched in his hands. He could feel the warmth passing from his fingertips up to his chest. Lucas shook his head.

A soft meow from the ground caught Will’s attention, and he turned to see the crew cat, Jones, curled up underneath the console. The cat stretched, hopping up into Will’s lap and rubbing his head against Will’s chest. Will set his teacup down, rubbing his fingers in circles behind Jones’ ears as the fat orange cat purred in his lap.

“Nah, I think they were only in that one cave.” Lucas said. His eyes wandered to Will’s bandaged leg. Memories flashed through his mind of the creature that had done that to him (it had turned into him it had turned into Will and it had still been eating him oh god), he knew what the injury underneath those bandages looked like, too. The muscle had been ripped off of a portion of his calf, revealing the bone underneath. They all knew he’d never walk properly again. Lucas had nightmares about that thing, mingling with memories of holding Will’s head and singing an old lullaby to him while Mike bandaged his leg because he was in so much pain and he was so close to bleeding out when they’d found him. 

Turning back to the array of screens in the darkened control room, Lucas allowed his attention to wander while Dustin worked on getting to the regulators and trying to fix them.

“What did it look like for you?”

The question was out of his mouth before he could stop it and he winced, spinning slightly to look at Will’s face. It was pallid, his eyes turned downward to watch Jones as the cat kneaded at his legs. Lucas felt a tight ball of regret form in his stomach.

“I’m sorry- you don’t have to answ-”

“It looked like Jones.”

Will’s voice was tight and clipped and Lucas understood. Jones was Will’s cat, Will was the one who had brought him on their ship in the first place, and Jones was his baby. He also knew that the alien had to touch something to become it (it was Will when he shot it, he was covered in blood and he looked so scared but they knew it wasn’t him and he had to shoot it). Will had kept Jones practically locked in his room at first, worried the alien would come for him again, but it never did. Lucas knew there was more to it than that, but he’d never asked. It seemed like something that should be left alone. 

There was a whoosh of air, and the malfunction alarm stopped abruptly, suddenly making the Hub feel even quieter. 

“Did that work? I don’t hear anything else down here.” Dustin’s voice crackled through the speakers, and Lucas turned back to the screens. 

“Mal-alarm turned off, so probably.” Lucas said. He watched the screens, waiting for Dustin to appear in the basement hallway camera. It took him a moment, as he was struggling with the toolbox in his arms, but he appeared, trudging down the long hallway. There was a strip down one specific hallway that had lost its cameras during travel through an asteroid belt, and had yet to fix it.

Dustin disappeared from the ship’s sight, and Lucas leaned back in his chair, watching the various blips and beeps from the computer systems surrounding them. Everything was sharp and angular, and there seemed to be hundreds of buttons and switches and levers over pretty much every surface. Apparently, most of them didn’t do anything, but none of Lucas’ crew was allowed to try it, so they couldn’t be for sure.

A moment passed in silence before the speakers crackled again.

“Hey, did someone let Jones down here? He’s in this hallway. Looks scared out of his mind.” Dustin’s words hung in the air for a moment. Lucas turned to Will. The smaller scientist’s face was pale, and Lucas could feel the chill that was coming from him. He surged forwards, smashing the COMM button with more force than necessary.

“Do not touch that cat, Dustin. I repeat, do not touch the cat.”

Before Lucas could even try responding, Will had pushed away from the control panel and was rooting through their supplies, scattered on the back counter. 

“Will, what the hell are you-”

“It’s that fuckin’ alien again!” Will hissed. He turned, and Lucas could see the handgun he was struggling to load, the anxiety coursing through him enough to make his hands shake. 

“How can you be sure? Who knows how many of them are out here, it could be a different one!”

“I would never let one of those things touch Jones twice.” Will spat, his eyes dark. Before Lucas could try persuading him to stay, the shorter man was gone, whipping through the hall door and out into the ship.

  Lucas watched him leave through the cameras, stalking down the hallway with the gun at his side ominously. Putting his head in his hands, he waited for someone to speak.

Will rushed down the hallway faster than he thought he could move, feeling like every one of his nerves was on fire. He knew where the hallway was, knew where the alien was. 

It didn’t take him long to reach his destination, but he hid behind the wall before entering, bracing himself to fight the monster again. 

“Dustin? Are you still in there?” He shouted over the hiss of machinery. There was a muffled noise, a high yelp that sent waves of fire down WIll’s spine. Hissing, he turned the corner, holding the gun out in front of him, ready to fight if need be.

The fake Jones was in the center of the room, curled on Dustin’s chest. The scientist himself seemed frozen in time, wide, terrified eyes meeting with Will’s. 

“Don’t. Move.” Will hissed, creeping closer to the alien on his friend’s chest. The cat stared at him, green eyes watching every move he made. 

Once he got within ten feet from both man and cat, Will crouched low to the ground, not wanting to accidentally shoot Dustin. The alien hissed, cat-claws shooting out and digging into Dustin’s chest.

The scientist gasped as the fake cat’s claws tore through his uniform, and that was enough.

Not-Jones yowled, whipping around and sinking his teeth into Dustin’s neck, his body already beginning to change. His fur was darkening, the stripes in his fur melting together until the cat had become an amorphous blob, completely covering Dustin’s body.

Shrieking, Will fired. He managed to get three shots into the creature’s back before it turned on him, hundreds of teeth flashing in a pitch-black mouth. He shot again, just trying to keep the alien’s attention off of Dustin. The creature squealed at him, but didn’t move. Both waited in a tense silence like a stand-off, waiting for the other to attack first.

After a few moments, the creature returned to the scientist in its shifting claws, sinking its teeth into him again.

Will fired as many rounds as he could into the side of where he guessed the alien’s head was, sending it reeling with a high shriek. It slithered backwards, reddish-black blood dripping from its body as it tried to scurry away. It collapsed in a shivering ball, low whimpers emanating from it every few moments.

Will took that moment to turn his attention back to Dustin. Moving as quickly as he could, he scrambled over to his friend, wincing as he tried to avoid looking at the damage the alien had done to him. 

There were massive pieces of flesh missing from his face and his neck, and it seemed to have been trying to eat his shoulders as well before Will had driven it off, small chunks of skin and tissue missing here and there. Blood was seeping from those wounds, and Will knew Dustin wouldn’t make it. Shivering, he reached for his comm, pressing the button with a shaking hand.

“Lucas, put it on the log that mission 234-8xo had one casualty, Dustin Henderson, at 8:32 AM, the morning-” A sob suddenly broke out of him, but he forced it down. “The m-morning of oc-october 23rd, t-two thousand fifty three.” He said. Underneath him, Dustin made a soft whimpering sound, garbled and pained. Will began to cry, but he kept his voice even as he began to sing softly, supporting Dustin’s head and running his fingers gently through Dustin’s hair.

“You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine,

You make me happy,

When skies are gray.

You’ll never know, dear

How much i love you,

Please don’t take

My sunshine away.”