#they LEFT THE CAR WALKED AWAY FROM THE HIGHWAY AND TRIED TO HIKE MOUNTAINS EVEN EXPERIENCED MOUNTAINEERS DON'T DO

[pinkrangerv]

Oh you poor, naive Egyptologists.

That fictional protagonist is not a sensible, rational person, with years of hiking experience and navigation to consult.

They're a tourist.

Park Rangers in the USA--especially the desert parts--have Stories about the tourists who went and got lost when they were ten feet away from a busy highway, a real trail, and honestly a gas station ten miles down the road. Some of them have death tolls.

It's real. Trust me.

downside: going to have to include a picture of the Giza pyramids in the slides for the lecture upside: i get to give people a crash course in why perspective matters in two frames, because

followed by

is such a funny sequence

[bakubitch-minusultra]

Not Alone: Chapter Twelve

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want :P

-> Word Count: 4.2k

-> Warnings: talk abt breeder farms, cooking/killing a bunny lol

-> Taglist: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat @zphilophobiaz

People pass by Y/n, becoming a sea of faces. All she could think was how she would get Mina back too. She would do anything to get Mina back. It seemed that it had become her centennial project. She wondered if she would ever just have the people who had become her new family all together, or would she die still looking for one.

“Where did they take her?” Y/n asked again. The huge boys hug and mess with each other’s hair. She wanted to shout but Bakugo saved her the trouble.

He looked around, “Where’s Mina?”

“Hunters got her two days ago. She went looking for Y/n and I heard her screaming at the edge of the field. I couldn’t run. They took her in a truck.”

“I’m so sorry Kirishima.”

He shook his head, “Y/n you went for food after you went for medicine to save me. None of this is your fault. We’ll get her back.” He looked at Bakugo and smiled. “I can’t believe you’re alive man.”

Bakugo ruffled Kirishima’s hair again, “You too shitty hair. You should have died a long time ago with your survival skills.”

Kirishima laughed, “Mina.”

“We need to get her back shitty hair.”

Kirishima nodded. Y/n couldn’t pretend that everything was warm and fuzzy.

She shoved him, “So how did you end up here? Why didn’t you stay at the farmhouse in the barn bunker?”

“I tried to go after them. I went over the hill and broke the branches like you told me. I knew you’d find me.” He shook his head at Bakugo. “She’s like a fucking terminator.”

Bakugo laughed, “I know.”

Kirishima fixed his hair, “Anyway, I came here yesterday. They all know you Bakugo.”

Bakugo shrugged, “I made friends at camp shitty hair.”

Y/n hated the way he called him shitty hair. She hated Bakugo in a horrid way. She wished he was at the breeder camp instead of Mina. Him and his girlfriend in the shorts. They have their mini reunion. She turned away and walked to the nearest small tent. She looked in the flap. A younger looking guy was asleep inside. Half his face was burnt. She walked from one small tent to the next, until she found one with a man with blond hair holding a pen and looking at a map that was spread across a table.

“Are you Monoma?” He nodded, but looked at Y/n suspiciously. “I need to know where the closest breeder camp is.”

He chuckled, “You aren’t thinking about volunteering are you? The food’s not that bad here.” She doesnt laugh, instead she looked at the map. She didn’t know how to read maps. She added it to the list of things her father should’ve taught her.

“My friend was taken. I need her back.”

He started laughing again, “What do you plan on doing?”

She looked up into his periwinkle blue eyes and stare him down, “I’m going to get her back.”

“Look, I get you’re upset but there is no getting them back. They go in and nine years later they get a nice house in the city. It’s not a baf gig. They get healthy food and a place to sleep. Your life here is harder.” She felt her face change. He put his hands up defensively, “Look we have bigger fish to fry than worry about one girl at a breeder farm.” He turned his back on her and looked at the wall of the tent where other maps were hung. She felt her fingers twitch. She wanted to pull an arrow. She left the tent disheartened and lost.

“Y/n where’d you go?”

She looked up at Bakugo and Kirishima walking toward her. She scrunched up her face and walked away from them both. She didn’t know how to be dramatic. She felt the need burning inside of her, but she didn’t physically know how to get angry without using her hands. She walked to a group of ladies who were standing around a fire.

She smiled sweetly and looked at the one who looked most like her mother did, “Hi.”

“Hi sweetie.” The rebellion people were nice.

“Do you know where the nearest breeder camp is?”

She frowned, “Yeah.” She looked over at a dark strawberry blonde who had a scar along her mouth, “Beth where was that camp that you all saw not far from here?”

“South east, over two small mountains and a ghost town. Used to be a place called Licoln there. Stay on the outskirts of that place.”

“Thanks so much.”

“You aren’t trying to go there, are you?”

Y/n shook her head, “No way. Just wanted to know where my friend went. Her nine years is almost up.”

The lady with the scar laughed bitterly, “Honey she aint coming back out here to shit in a ditch. She’ll get herself a nice place in the city. I hear they even got air conditioning again.”

A lady with a t-shirt with a big tongue on it laughed, “Oh girl, what I would do for air conditioning.” They all laughed and it made Y/n grin. She walked away from them and went back to the small tent. The man looked less than pleased to see that she was there.

“Really, you’re back again. Look I’m not sending a bunch of men to their death over some girl.”

“I’m not asking you for a thing. I just want to see the map.”

He held his arm out at the one on the table, “Have at it.” She looked at the compass on the map.

“Where are we?” He dropped a finger onto the map next to a blue line. She dragged her finger southeast to the place that said Licoln. She looked up at him, “Which way is south east from here?” He pointed to the back of the tent where the other maps were. He was blocking her view of them on purpose. “Thanks.” She started to walk in the direction he had told her.

Her quiver wasn’t very full. Normally she would make arrows once a month but she hadn’t had a chance in the last month. Nothing had been the way it would have been back at the cabin. She thought about the moment she stood at the door as Mina knocked outside of it. She remembered the regret. She saw Kirishima and Bakugo and started to walk faster. She didn’t know what to say, but running away from them seemed like a pretty good idea. Kirishima still has a limp, but they move quickly.

“Y/n wait up,” Kirishima shouted. She wanted to be alone. It figured the only boys she’s ever liked had to be friends. Her mom would have been proud. She too had a thing for friends.

Fingers bit into Y/n’s arm and spun her around.

Bakugo towered over her, “What are you doing?” He looked annoyed.

She pulled her arm away from him, “I’m going to find her.” She looked at Kirishima, “Stay here and get better. That leg isn’t going to heal with you walking around so much.” He looked hurt.

Bakugo grabbed her arm again, “Y/n we aren’t going to let you run off half cocked. We need a plan.” She felt angry, maybe it was because she liked them both or maybe it was because they’re not running after Mina, like she expected they would.

She glared at Kirishima, “When you fell in that holse she did the bravest thing I have ever seen anyone do. She told me that she didn’t care if I shot her but I had to come find you.”

He shook his head, “We need a plan.”

She pointed south, “There’s a three day hike, we can plan on the way.”

Bakugo’s grip on her arm tightened, “We’ll be down a mountain and in the woods alone with no resources when we find her. What plan can you come up with there?”

Y/n shook her head again, “I’ve made it this far without anyone.” She pulled her arm free and took a step back, “I don’t need either of you.” She felt something in her stomach. She should’ve grabbed food. She started her hike. She realized she not only had a plan but that she was starving. She heard their footsteps behind her.

“She’s really stubborn.” Kirishima tried to whisper, but Y/n could hear him.

“I noticed that. How’s the leg?” Y/n made a face but didn’t look back at them.

“Good. She did surgery on it. I don’t think I’ll ever win the Boston Marathon if it comes back in style.” Bakugo snorted, Y/n wanted to laugh, but she was pissed off.

“Mina been a handful?”

Kirishima laughed, “Oh my god. The year she started the road to womanhood was the beginning of the end. Oh my god it was so bad.”

Y/n felt her face flush with heat. She remembered getting her first period and cringed. She had thought she was dying for a few days. She had to read an encyclopedia on health in order to find the answers she had been looking for. She made rags and stayed indoors. She rubbed clary sage oil on her stomach for the cramping and put warm compresses on her stomach. It was the first thing she added to the list of things he should have told her about. Being twelve and alone in the forest was daunting. Bleeding every month for no reason was much worse.

She realized how far ahead of them she was when she came out of her daydream and couldn’t hear them. She looked back. They were laughing and walking like it was a stroll in the park. She glanced up in the trees to see the guard strategically placed. She knew they were still safe from the others but she couldn’t imagine laughing and joking and catching up the way they were.

She walked faster. She missed the silence and uncomplicated days of traveling with Hades. He would hunt and they would touch each other every now and again but neither of them needed to make a sound. She looked back at Kirishima and noticed the way he lumbered through the woods and let out a sigh. The bottom of the mountain led to a valley and she climbed a tree and sat on a sturdy branch.

“What do you see?”

“A highway. There’re cars on it, they’re burned.” It frightened Y/n. Scavengers were always nearest to the old remains. She stayed away from the remains.

“Do you see movement?”

She shook her head but narrowed her eyes to improve her vision. The infected had a way of not moving when you needed them to. The sun was going down and she wanted to scross the highway and be halfway up the next mountain before it’s completely dark. She climbed down the tree and tried not to look at either of the hulking men standing next to her.

She pulled an arrow and crouched low to the ground. She shut her mind off. She tried not to think when she was scared shitless.

She could hear Kirishima walking behind her, no doubt completely upright and picking his teeth with a piece of grass. Y/n decided to shoot him herself if he started to hum. The grass on the side of the highway was long. As she slipped through it the wind played with it, making it whisper. The birds here were not the kind who warn you of prey, they were scavengers. They wanted you to die.

The long grass swayed and played with her hair. Her heart was beating faster when her foot touched the gravel on the side of the highway.

She looked back at Bakugo and he nods. Kirishima’s lips curled into a smile. She couldn’t help but want to smile with him. She saw herself back at the cabin for the briefest of seconds. Images of her and him laying on the couch filled her mind. She smiled remembering the way they tried not to get caught staring at each other.

Her mind snapped back.

She closed her eyes and listened to the wind. There was no sound. She climbed out of the huge ditch and walked quickly and silently up onto the broken asphalt. It had started to crack from the weather and lack of care. Where her foot stepped first it crumbled. Her eyes scanned every inch of the deserted highway. Burned out cars sat staggered along the long straight road. The people caught in the traffic jams when the tidal waves were coming or the bombs were dropping to contain the sick. They fled from their vehicles. They left everything and ran. She remembered running.

She shook her head back to focusing. She slipped between an old burnt SUV and the skeleton of a small car. The hood of the car was lifted and the battery was gone. Not uncommon.

“Which way?” Kirishima asked louder than Y/n would’ve liked.

“Shhhh.”

The gravel on the other side was a welcomed sight. When her feet touched the grass she broke into a run. The bushes hit her in the face when she entered the forest. She ran until shesaw the tree she wanted. She climbed it and sat with her arrow pulled and at the ready. She scanned the highway and the ditch vigorously.

Kirishima was huffing and panting while he rested below the tree.

“Oh man you can run. Holy shit. I thought your leg was hurt. Whoa.”

“Kirishima.” Bakugo was back to being Business Bakugo. There was no fun with him, only survival. She didn’t take her eyes off the road. Nothing moved. She was about to climb down but she waited one more second. She saw the bushes across the move and pulled the arrow tighter. It looked like an animal but she couldn’t see clearly.

“I see something,” she said in a low voice.

“What?”

“Animal. Dog maybe.”

“Shit.” She looked down through the thick branches at Bakugo’s;ook and raised an eyebrow. “Trackers.”

He doesn’t finish the sentence and her eyes scanned across the highway again. The animal was gone. Nothing moved. She climbed down fast and turned to face the dense woods.

“That way.”

Kirishima looked pained, “Seriously? We’re going to run some more?”

She looked at him and nodded, “Think about what it’s like for Mina now. She’s terrified. She thinks the breeder camps are what we all think. She is waiting for her turn no doubt.”

He flinched, “Jesus Y/n. Easy on the visuals. She’s my friend for christ’s sake. I’m not bitching, my leg is just killing me.”

Y/n glared, “Is it bleeding?”

“No but it hurts.”

“Climb the tree and wait for us,” She handed him a water bottle from her belt. But Kirishima shook his head and looked at Bakugo who’s face was stoic

“Bakugo I’m not staying.”

Bakugo licked his lips and thought for a second, “You can’t hold us up.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes and sighed, “Let’s just go.”

Y/n held the water bottle out for one more second but he didn’t take her up on the offer. She turned and started to run. Her leg was sore and her stomach was empty. In her haste she never stocked up. Mina had been hard on her rules.

When the sun had started to set they were where Y/n wanted to be. Kirishima hadn’t complained and Bakugo was starting a small fire. She took her bow and found a nice quiet spot to sit and wait for something to make a sound.

The silence of the woods was alarming. She had never been in the woods here. She was exhausted but she stayed focused.

She heard the crunch of a stick and raised her arrow in the direction she heard it in. A large hare hopped over a branch and sniffed the wind. It’s ears twitched and Y/n knew that it had smelled her. She released the arrow, anticipating the hop it would do. The arrow slices through the neck of the rabbit. It tried to move for a second and then stopped. She gutted the hare where she killed it. She never brought it back with its guts. Leaving guts outside the cabin proved to be a mistake. She skinned it quickly with the skinning knife she kept and left the animal’sremains and carried the carcass to the fire.

She heard the cracking of wood when she got close. Bakugo was standing over the fire and Kirishima was sitting on a log next to him.

“So is there something between you two?” Bakugo asked but didn’t move his face.

Kirishima shrugged, “I don’t know. She’s a tough one to get to know. We kissed but it was a mistake.”

Bakugo looked at him and smiled, “I hear that. You remember the Laura Croft movies where Angelina Jolie was all hot and quiet but would kill anything that moved?”

Kirishima laughed, “Yeah. Exactly. Jesus, give her some pouty lips and bam. Laura Croft.”

Y/n felt her insides trembling. She didn’t remember the movies they were talking about. She couldn’t help but want to cry.

Bakugo laughed and shook his head, “But what a bitch though hey.”

She grabbed a rock from where she was standing and tossed it back a few yards. They couldn’t see her if she crouched.

“She’s back. Manners.” Bakugo spoke low and started poking the fire. She stood and walked from the bushes. She just wanted to throw the stupid hare down and leave them there, but her stomach was growling. She was exhausted. She would stay as long as it would take to eat and then she would be sleeping in a tree. Maybe if she was lucky she would fall in her sleep and wake up in hell.

Bakugo held out a small sack, “I have some potatoes from the camp and tinfoil.”

She nodded, “Okay.” She felt awkward. Kissing both of them was obviously bad, but having them call her a bitch after they kissed her was awful. Having Kirishima say it was a mistake was killing her. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. She walked around him and found a good stick to make a spit with.

She searched the ground around the fire until she found a good branch. She stripped the small branches and leaves from it. She smirked and shoved the stick into the open neck. She was imagining it was one of them.

“You’re a scary little thing.” She frowned at Kirishima who was watching her get the hare on the spit. “It’s a compliment.” She didn’t stop frowning. It didn’t feel like a complement. Even if it was, it wouldn’t stop the pain of the kiss being a mistake.

She built a spit with rocks and branches and twine from her backpack. Bakugo sliced the potatoes and laid them in the tinfoil. He placed them high on a rock with a flat surface in the fires circle of rocks.

Bakugo glanced at her, “So what’s to plan?”

“Get captured and free us both.” He laughed at Y/n. “I can do it.”

He shook his head, “I know you can, it's just funny that’s all. You’re willing to sacrifice yourself to save my friend?”

“She’s the only person I’ve met that I liked. Genuinely.” It was a stab at them both. Fuck them.

He raised his eyebrows, “Fair enough.” He looked hurt. The image of the girl in the short shorts didn’t leave her mind easily.

Kirishima looked hurt, “What am I, chopped liver?” Y/n smiled. She hated that she was smiling. She hated that he made her smile so easily. He grinned at her and she remembered his hands on her. She couldn’t stop staring at his lips. It made her feel sick.

Bakugo cleared his throat, “So how’ll you get captured?”

She shrugged, “Just act lost near the area.” She glanced at Kirishima who was still staring at her. His grin hadn’t left his face. She dug her stick in the dirt and drew a circle. She hit a rock and dirt went flying up at Kirishima’s face on his stump.

She laughed as he wipped his face clean, “Thanks.”

Bakugo laughed, “Stop being a baby.”

Kirishima shook the dirt out of his hair, “You did that on purpose.”

She put her hands up with the stick in them, “I didn’t, I swear.” She wish she had.

“I don’t think you shouldgo there, Y/n.”

She dug with the stick again, “I have to.” She didn’t say that she led them straight to Mina. She doesn’t say that it was all her fault. She didn’t have to. They all knew it was true. Bakugo turned the hare on the spit slowly. The smells were starting to make her stomach make noises she hadn’t heard since before she found the cabin.

Bakugo looked around, “When you get captured you need a way out.” He got up from the fire and muttered, “Kiri turn the hare.” He went to a tree and ripped off a branch. He sat next to Y/n on the log. The warmth of his body was touching her and it was setting her nerves on fire.

He bent down and drew a rectangle. In each of the corners he made small boxes, “There is a section that is for the women who are pregnant or about to be impregnated. This is probably where you'll go. Then this wing is for the younger girl who can't have babies yet. This is for the women with the babies. This is where the little girls are kept. Girls they raise to be breeders." He moved the stick to the other side and made a smaller box, "This is where the men are, if there are any men. Sometimes they don’t have any there." He cleared his throat nervously and drew an X in the middle but off to one side, "This is the fertility lab. This is where the lab coats and doctors and cleaners all stay. This is your only chance. They will have a dump somewhere near the clinic. The garbage goes every few days."

She frowned at him but Kirishima asked the question burning in her mind before she could, “Dude how do you know so much about the breeder farmer?”

Bakugo blushed in the firelight, “I lived there for a time.”

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, “As a cleaner or a doctor?” He laughed like he knew the answer.

Bakugo laughed, “I wish.”

Kirishim shook his head, “Nasty bro. Nasty.”

Y/n felt lost. She looked blankly at them both. Bakugo’s face looked like it was on fire.

“I was forced to um… donate.” Y/n didn’t understand what they were talking about.”

Kirishima started to make an odd motion with his fist, “He had to jerk his chiken for the big men.” She didn’t know what that meant but she nodded before they explained. Bakugo looked at her face and laughed.

Kirishima turned the hare, “So how many little Bakugo’s are running around?” Y/n felt her stomach drop. She understood. She felt judgment burn its way across her face.

“I wasn’t exactly in on the plans.”

Kirishima poked the hare, “How was life there?”

Bakugo snorted, “Thinking about signing up?”

Kirishima looked up, “Hey if there are three square meals a day and I get all the, um, reading material I need to deliver the goods, I’m in.”

The humor fell from Bakugo’s face. He almost twitched when he shook his head, “No. No three meals and material shitty hair. It’s more like milking a cow.”

Kirishima ignored the terror on his friend's face and grinned ear to ear, “Are there milk maids?”

Bakugo nodded, “Not the kind you’re thinking of. Mine was a guy named Dr. Stevie.”

Kirishima gagged, “Oh shit never mind.”

Bakugo looked down at the drawing again and chuckled, but Y/n could tell he was haunted by it.

“There’s no human contact Kirishima. It’s all done by machines, the girls and the boys. Anyway this section here has the surgeon’s clothes and boots. Change and climb into the garbage bin in the morning on a Tuesday or a Thursday or a Saturuday. The garbage comes around lunch and the best chance you have at not being noticed is then. They’ll be looking for you after lunch.”

Y/n felt sick thinking about the plan. She was not as strong as the look on her face suggests she is.

“I think it’s done,” Kirishima poked the hare.

Y/n shook her head, “Always over cook wild animals.”

Bakugo nudged her with his body, almost playfully, “You sure about this?”

She nodded and reached into the flames to turn the potatoes. The fire licked at her skin but she ignored it. It hurt. It was a warning of pain to come if she continued to stick her hands in the fire. Sitting between two men she couldn’t help but feel like it was appropriate.

[poopunderstander]

i am probably the 5000th person to write Dean teaching Cas to drive but i did it anyway and i'm here to make it your problem

"Cas, who is living after death in the body of a man so devout he offered his whole self to the possession of God’s soldier, knows that the machine he’s sitting in is a part of the strange, ardent little faith Dean practices, a religion with three apostles, a virgin, and no god. Sitting here with Dean’s hand on his own, sweating and shaking at the helm of this unholy ark, he feels blasphemous."

2.4k words, destiel, PG/teen&up, no warnings except for a lot of geology talk at the start

link on ao3

Approximately 550 million years before what Castiel currently knows as the present day, two enormous sheets of earth collided in a dying ocean. The continent of Laurentia met with an arc of volcanic islands, and, finding itself unequal to their fury, folded downward beneath the sapping crust of the Iapetus Ocean. Over millennia, as Heaven watched, the earth and water consumed each other, leaving a thick scar of mountains, to be worn away in turn by new millennia of wind and ice and fire.

That was the Age of Fishes. Later, much later, humans climbed into the valleys in between the hills, to fish and hunt and build, and when they buried their dead they painted the graves with red earth, infinitesimal new scars over the old tectonic suture.

Castiel remembers all this—can feel it in the ground under his vessel’s feet, here in what Dean Winchester calls central Maine. They’re standing on glacial till deposited in the last ice age, and below them are the grains of sand from the Iapetus Ocean that became mudstone and siltstone, then pelite and shale and Silurodevonian granite. Twenty-five miles beneath Castiel lies a layer of Precambrian gneiss, a sheet of ancient dust pressed into solid stone nearly four billion years ago, when the ocean was wide and God himself wasn’t that old. That stone, Castiel knows, is Earth’s oldest shield: the last solid barrier between humanity and the planet’s molten core. He thinks about this as he watches Dean load guns into the trunk of his car, his boots planted in soft red earth carried here 10,000 years ago by a river of ice.

“Ready?” Dean says, turning back to face Cas.

Castiel thinks about the God who watched the continents form, who watched the planet eat itself a thousand times and heal a thousand more, the God who Castiel knows once wasn’t dead. He looks at Dean, who knows none of this and came with him anyway to trap an archangel on earth, and thinks: How could I be?

“Yes,” he says.

<>

“Wait,” Dean says. “Let me get this right. You can fly, right—you can teleport—but you can’t drive a car?”

They’re sitting in the empty parking lot of an ice cream shop, across the road from St. Peter’s Hospital. Dean drove them here after they left the house of prostitution, to wait for the sun to rise and the meeting with Raphael to “go down.” Castiel, still caught up in the pangs of regret and panic he brought away from the bar, has spent his last hours on earth contemplating the profound and mundane limits of his earthly knowledge.

“I thought she would appreciate the information,” he told Dean, trying to create in words a world in which he didn’t ruin Dean’s terrifying act of kindness, and Dean laughed and said, “Oh, dude, big mistake.”

“I don’t think I understand women,” Castiel said then, and Dean threw back his head and laughed, and Castiel felt a portion of the darkness inside him evaporate.

Dean started quizzing him after that, asking about things he’s done, talking about something he calls a “bucket list.” Castiel doesn’t know what the bucket is for, but Dean’s apparently contains people and places and food: a musician named Springsteen in Concert, the Chevrolet Hall of Fame in Decatur, the 1,800 pound burger at Mallie’s Sports. He asks Castiel if he’s ever been to the Grand Canyon, and Castiel tells him he witnessed its creation. Dean says okay, but did you ever hike it, and Castiel has to shake his head.

It’s in this way that Dean learns that Castiel has never driven a car—a fact which Cas thinks shouldn’t surprise him, but it does. They’re sitting on the hood of the car together, gazing out across Highwood Avenue at the glowing windows of the hospital, and Dean twists his whole body around to face Cas, telegraphing his shock.

“Why would I,” Cas points out. “I’ve never had the need.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, “but—dude, what if somebody, like, zaps your wings? What’re you gonna do, huh, take a bus?”

Cas shrugs. “Probably. I think it’s far more likely that Raphael will kill me outright.”

He sees a flicker of pain cross Dean’s face; this conversation made him uncomfortable before. Castiel wonders about that. “I’m not talking about that,” he says. “I just meant—hypothetically. In a hypothetical world where you get your angel mojo un-mojoed, or whatever, you’d just—buy a bus ticket?”

Castiel isn’t sure what he’s admitting to, here. He thought bus travel was common. “I suppose.”

“Jesus,” Dean says, turning back to face the hospital. “That’s just wrong.”

They’re silent for a moment, spinning in their own private worlds. The lights are off inside the ice cream shop—it’s nearly dawn, and nobody buys ice cream at dawn—but the lamps above the Dairy Queen sign are blazing, and Castiel is watching the yellow light flow over Dean’s head and shoulders as he leans back on the hood of his car, still warm from the engine’s labor. Even now, looking at Dean’s body is like looking at a miracle. Castiel wonders if he’s aware that he’s the only thing in Waterville, Maine born entirely of God’s will.

“Listen,” Dean says suddenly, breaking the silence. “I don’t know what it’s gonna be like in there. I know you said—well, I know what you said. But I think,” he says, puffing up with that bizarre confidence he always seems to pull from nowhere, “I think we’re gonna make it. And if I’m right, if we do—” He turns to look at Cas again, a grin dawning across his face. “If we do, I’m gonna teach an angel of the lord to drive stick.”

Castiel has no idea why—he’s not quite sure what those words in that order mean—but this thought seems to give Dean hope. Castiel doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t have a human soul, that thing that seems to trap hope so unfailingly it feels like a flaw in the design.

The sun is feet from the eastern horizon.

“Okay,” he tells Dean.

<>

Twenty-five miles north of Waterville is a town called Canaan. When colonists first settled on the banks of the Kennebec, they used the native word for the place they built: Wesserunsett. Not long after, though, deciding that that long name was not worth the labor of speaking or writing it, they looked at the bright green fields laid all around their stolen home, imagined a similarly verdant place of rest waiting for them at life’s end, and named the new town after the Promised Land.

Canaan, of course, looks nothing like Heaven, really. Heaven is vast and multidimensional; Canaan is a ten-room motel, two grocery stores, and two churches along the length of US Highway 2. But outside Canaan, between the highway and the lake, is a wide field of grass and purple violets, which Dean pronounces “perfect.” He pulls off the road into the field, and Castiel feels the solid, assuring weight of asphalt give way to the uncertainty of earth.

“Okay,” Dean says. He gets out of the car, and motions for Castiel to do the same. Cas does, turning cautiously to scan the field around them.

“There’s no road here,” he points out. He’s never tried it before, but he always assumed that a road was essential to driving.

“That’s the point,” Dean says. “You can’t start on the road, you’re gonna get yourself killed. Gotta start where there’s nothing to run into.” He gestures at the expanse around them. “Like so. That’s how my dad taught me.”

Dean doesn’t talk about his father. Castiel has noticed. He’s never seen John Winchester; tries to imagine Dean as a child, standing in a field like this with the man who withstood one hundred years of Hell. He can’t picture it. But then, imagination has never come easily to him.

“Come on,” Dean says, waving a hand for Cas to come around the car. Castiel obeys, walking around to the open driver’s seat as Dean circles to where Cas just was. They both sit down inside, pulling the doors shut, and Dean says, “Okay. So. Let’s start at the beginning.”

He talks Cas through the controls of the car, laying his hand on the dashboard as he talks, identifying the levers and pedals and dials with gentle, nearly reverent touches, watching Castiel’s face to make sure that he’s taking it all in. Castiel tries to concentrate, thinks he understands what he’s being told, but he has no place to anchor this information. That’s the clutch, Dean says, and Castiel nods and thinks, clutch, and thinks about gripping Dean tight. The clutch.

“You got it?” Dean asks. Castiel doesn’t feel he has anything.

“Of course.”

Dean beams. Cas can’t find it in himself to regret the lie.

“Go ahead and put your hands on the wheel,” Dean says. This turns out to be more complicated than Castiel anticipated. He does it wrong, apparently, the first time, because Dean frowns and says, “No, you gotta—ten o’clock and two o’clock, Cas,” and when Cas asks what that means Dean says to picture a clock, and Castiel doesn’t see what relevance that has to driving a car. In the end, Dean takes Castiel’s hands in both of his, and puts them onto the steering wheel in the right position. He sits back in satisfaction, nodding.

“Okay. Okay.” Castiel’s heart is pounding like a hummingbird’s. It’s not the same fear he felt last night. He doesn’t know what it is. Dean tells him where to put his feet, says okay, clutch first, keep it in neutral, and Cas pushes down with what was once Jimmy Novak’s left foot and then his right, feels the engine rumble to life, and lets go when Dean says okay, now.

He breaks the car. Or, that’s what it feels like at first: a heavy, surely cataclysmic crash of machinery that throws both of them back against the seat. He sees Dean grimace and gets ready to apologize, but Dean just says, “Okay, kind of rough start, but that’s fine—try it again.”

“I’m not sure I should,” Cas says. It sounded like the engine cracked. He thinks Dean may have underestimated his ignorance here. But Dean says no, try again, so Cas puts his feet back on the pedals and focuses every particle of his celestial consciousness on easing the pressure on and off in perfect unison the way Dean tells him, hands rigid at ten and two on the clock-wheel, and the four thousand pounds of steel beneath them roll approximately ten inches over the grass before Castiel’s focus falters, and the engine grinds to another explosive, neck-wrenching halt.

“You suck at this,” Dean says. His patience as an instructor, apparently, has been exhausted.

“Of course I suck at this,” Cas says, hearing the panic in his own voice. “I’m an angel.”

He expects the lesson to be over then—clearly, he isn’t going to learn this—but Dean just chuckles instead, caught up in another burst of unearned optimism, and says, “Try it again, little slower this time.”

For half an hour, Cas jolts the car in short, violent circles around the field, struggling to follow Dean’s directions and feeling sweat build up on his palms and the back of his shirt. The longest he’s able to drive in one smooth line lasts about one minute and forty-five seconds, long enough for Dean to lose his look of consternation and break out in a grin, raising his hands in celebration just as Cas accidentally pushes down on the wrong pedal and sends them screeching to a halt.

“Hey,” Dean says, once he’s recovered from the physical shock, “at least you’re getting better.”

“I’m not,” Cas tells him. He can feel an odd, nauseous constriction at the back of his throat; he wonders if it’s possible for a being that doesn’t eat or digest to vomit. “I’m not good at this, Dean. I won’t be good at this.”

“Listen,” Dean says, “if Sam could learn, so can you.”

“Sam’s very intelligent.”

“And you’re not?”

“Sam’s human.”

“Since when does that matter?” Dean asks.

Cas stares at him. Of course it matters. It’s always mattered. “I don’t know how,” he says. His hands are shaking.

“Hey,” Dean says, “hey.” He reaches over and lays his hand over Castiel’s, still on the steering wheel. His skin is warm and callused. Castiel feels the blood vessels in his cheeks and neck dilating.

“I’m sorry,” he tells Dean. He knows, without quite understanding, that what they’re doing is important to Dean, somehow, and he’s fucked it up. He did the same last night, with the woman whose name wasn’t Chastity, whose father loved her in the same unknowable way that Dean’s father loved him. He didn’t want to do it again. Cas, who is living after death in the body of a man so devout he offered his whole self to the possession of God’s soldier, knows that the machine he’s sitting in is a part of the strange, ardent little faith Dean practices, a religion with three apostles, a virgin, and no god. Sitting here with Dean’s hand on his own, sweating and shaking at the helm of this unholy ark, he feels blasphemous.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“You can do this, Cas,” Dean says. “Look, I get you’re, like, superpowered, or whatever, I know you don’t need to. But did you ever think—maybe it’s just been a really long time since you learned something new?” He pauses, frowning, searching for the right words. “I don’t care if you can’t drive, man,” he says finally. “But I know you can learn. Right? I believe in you, Cas.”

Twelve hours ago, Dean stood side by side with Cas in the light of Raphael’s wings and heard him say that God died centuries ago. Dean heard it, and told Cas to go looking anyway.

Cas looks at him, at the freckles scattered over his nose, the serious little pinch between his brows, the soft ghost of a smile on his face even though Cas has surely damaged his car by now, even though God is dead and his neck must hurt and Sam’s taking a vacation from being Dean’s brother, the other half of his world. Dean looks back at him, raises his eyebrows, and grins.

“One more time?”

[hockeylvr59]

Secret Love Part 14 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: And we’ve reached the final Iceland chapter. It only took me six parts to write a 10 day vacation. I hope that this will tie a few things together that you’ve been wondering about. Next chapter it’s back to the real world...ready or not. 

Warnings: language, smut (semi-unprotected)

Word Count: 4,092

~~~~~

You were up with the sun the morning of your 8th day in Iceland...well not technically because the summer sun in Iceland is up about 21 hours of the day...but if you were back home, it certainly would have been considered getting up with the sun. 

Downing a quick breakfast, you packed up the car and hit the road again. Today was another day filled with a lot of driving and you did your best to entertain Cale by singing along to music as he drove through vast stretches of farmland. You may not have had the best voice but no one could jump through the diverse playlist Cale had made like you could. 

Driving down the highway you could see Icelandic horses roaming through the fields and it made you even more excited for the horseback ride Cale had scheduled for this afternoon. First though, you had a quick stop at Hvítserkur to see the sea stack which was said to be a troll who was turned to stone while trying to destroy a Christian monastery. 

There, Cale mimicked the stance you imagined the troll would be standing in and you snapped pictures, trying not to shake the camera while you laughed your ass off. No one else could make you laugh quite the way Cale could and you shook your head at him as you headed back to the car. 

“What am I going to do with you?” You mused, climbing into the passenger seat. 

“I can think of a few things.” Cale joked. And while his words were teasing, his expression was more serious, leaving you feeling like you were definitely missing something. 

Three more hours down along the western coast of Iceland brought you to Grundarfjorour, a small village outside of which you were going to ride. Arriving at the farm you met up with your tour guide and then proceeded out to meet the horses. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve gone riding.” You murmured climbing onto a platform as you put on a helmet before settling your foot in the stirrup to mount yourself onto the horse’s back. Though it had been a long time, the feeling was familiar and you ran your hands along your horse’s neck as you waited for Cale and your guide to be ready to go. 

Cale seemed to struggle far more than you had despite his height advantage and you shook your head in exasperation. 

“C’mon Cale...act like you’ve done this before.” You chirped. He stuck his tongue out at you as he finally settled himself in the saddle and you laughed lightly. “You need some work if you’re ever going to be asked to ride in the parade at Stampede…” You continued, shooting him a wink before turning to your guide as she explained where you were headed. 

There was something even more beautiful about the highlands of Iceland while on horseback and you continued up through the mountains, past multiple waterfalls as you followed your guide on a two hour loop of the farm. You’d forgotten just how much you loved horseback riding. At the same time, you’d never had as much fun on a ride as you did with Cale beside you. 

At the end of your ride, your guide took a few pictures of the two of you before you climbed off of your horse. Treating the mare to some apple slices for a job well done, you thanked your guide once more before continuing on your way once again. 

“I think I kind of forgot about how much you love animals.” Cale mused as his hand settled over yours as he pulled out onto the main road. “From catching frogs to riding horses. There were very few things involving animals that you were ever afraid of.” 

“I still don’t like snakes.” You declared and your words drew a laugh from Cale’s throat. 

“I remember when you screamed bloody murder when we were playing outside and the tinest little garter snake slithered through the grass. I don’t think I’d ever heard such a shrill sound before.” 

“To be fair...that snake was like 2 centimeters from where my hand had just been.” You reminded him. 

“Sure…” Cale smirked, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand lightly. 

“Don’t be mean to me…” You chastised, a pout forming on your face. 

“Don’t pout when I can’t kiss you.” Cale grumbled. 

“You can kiss me later.” You assured him, turning your head to look out the window once more. After spending another two hours in the car, you finally pulled into your hotel for the evening, ready to stretch your legs. 

A dip in the hotel’s hot pools after dinner eased your aching muscles and provided Cale with the perfect opportunity to kiss you just like he had promised to. With only one more full day left in Iceland it felt like time had sped up and you felt the desperate need to catch and hold onto each and every moment before they just disappeared. 

___

Your last full day in Iceland started with a trip to see two more sets of waterfalls: Hraunfossar and Barnafoss. Really it was just sets of waterfalls upon waterfalls and you really couldn’t tell one from the other. Still, you were blown away by the absolute beauty of this country and tucked into Cale’s side you were so grateful he had brought you along on this trip. It had been exhausting at times, but it was an experience that you would never take for granted because it had brought the two of you so much closer together. 

Looking down at Cale’s checklist, there was only one more typed item on it. A few small sights were penciled in for tomorrow before your flight but those were just quick stops and not a full excursion. You weren’t sure what to expect from the Surtshellir lava tubes but the desolate landscape around the site suggested that this wasn’t the easiest activity in the world. Taking the headlamp that Cale had brought, you clipped it around your head before following after Cale down to the entrance of the tube. 

For only being a mile long, the lava tube was not an easy hike. Big boulders covered the floor creating an uneven walking surface. Going slowly, you took care to make sure that where you were stepping was stable and that you maintained your balance. And at first everything was fine. 

Then, after walking a good distance - about an hour in - Cale decided it was time to turn around and head back. With Cale in front of you kind of guiding your path, you continued back in the direction you’d come from for about forty minutes. As you moved to step over a somewhat large stone, your foot slipped and you stumbled, pain shooting up your ankle immediately. 

You’d managed not to fall somehow but when you tried to take another step you could barely put any weight on your ankle. 

“Cale…” You cried out, voice cracking. Immediately your boyfriend turned around at the sound of your voice and seeing you standing balanced on one foot, he darted back over the rocks until he reached your side. 

“What happened?” He questioned, his eyes filled with confusion and concern. 

“My foot caught wrong on the rock and I slipped and fuck Cale it hurts.” You were trying to stay calm, trying to bite back the pain, but as you grasped at Cale’s pullover to use him for balance, you felt tears prick at your eyes. 

“Shit.” Cale breathed, his arm wrapping around your waist in support. “Can you sit so I can see?” He requested, looking around for somewhere you could perch yourself. Nodding, you let him guide you down, his headlamp catching in your eyes causing you to squeeze them shut tightly. 

His touch was soft as he shifted your leg to get a better look at your ankle and you crinkled your nose at the pressure of his fingers along your muscles. 

“I know it hurts but can you flex your foot for me?” He inquired and the tears finally fell as you tried to cooperate with everything he was asking of you. 

“Shh..sweetheart you’re okay...y/n baby look at me…” Cale practically cooed, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I know it hurts but I’m fairly confident it’s just a sprain.” Dropping the backpack he’d been carrying, Cale squatted in front of you, urging you to just breathe. 

“Let’s get you out of here so I can get a better look.” Cale directed, calm as ever. 

“I can’t put any weight on it…” You whispered, trying not to panic about being stuck in the middle of a lava tube in Iceland fairly far from any medical access or assistance period. 

“You don’t have to put any weight on it.” Cale assured you. “Take this.” He instructed, moving to drape the backpack over your shoulders before he kissed you once on the forehead. “Now let’s get you up on your good foot for just a minute.” By taking everything one direction at a time, Cale was working to keep you calm and focused. Balancing on one leg you waited for Cale to move to your side thinking he was just going to help you stumble along. Instead he moved in front of you, his back facing you. 

“Alright...up you go.” He expressed, his hands at his sides waiting for something. It took you a minute to figure out what he was getting at and once you did, your eyes went wide. 

“Cale...you cannot carry me out of here.” You mumbled in disbelief. 

“Yes I can.” Cale declared, his tone leaving you no real choice but to go along. You figured he’d quickly see how impractical it was but as you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist he didn’t seem at all fazed by the additional weight or the lack of use of his hands as he reached behind to support you. 

It took twice as long as it should have to exit the cave, but somehow Cale managed to not only get you out, but all the way back up to the car. 

“I can’t believe you just did that.” You whispered, voice shaking as he sat you down in the trunk of the car. He was a sweaty mess but it didn’t seem to bother him at all as he dug through his suitcase. You thought he was looking for a fresh shirt at least because he’d soaked through both his t-shirt and pullover but instead he pulled out two long strips of athletic tape. 

He was ever so careful as he slipped both your shoe and sock off of your foot, his eyes raking over the injured site. 

“It’s a little swollen but doesn’t look too bad.” He observed. “Is it as tender as before?” You winced as he pressed against the muscles of your ankle but the pain wasn’t quite as intense. 

“Not quite as bad.” You informed him. 

“Alright. Good.” Cale nodded, his tongue between his lips in focus. “I’m gonna tape it up and then we’ll go back to the hotel so you can elevate and ice it. Give it a few hours and see how it goes?” 

“Okay.” You agreed. You trusted Cale and since he didn’t seem overly concerned, you were going to do what he suggested and see where that got you. As Cale taped your ankle, doing his best not to cause you pain, you dug through your bag for the bottle of pain relievers before reaching for the water bottle in the backpack you’d just shed. 

“That should do it.” Cale murmured just as you swallowed the pills. Looking down, black k-tape stretched in multiple ways around your foot and ankle. Shifting forward, your bad ankle just hanging loosely out of the car, you ran your fingers along Cale’s stomach as you leaned up to kiss him. 

“You’re my hero, you know that?” You sighed. “Thank you.” Your stomach was twisting with an overflow of emotions and you took a deep breath trying to calm them. “That was like above and beyond boyfriend duties there.” You whispered, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Scared me.” Cale mumbled into the skin of your neck as he leaned forward to drape himself over you a little easier. “You’re a trooper though.” He praised. “Now let’s get you back somewhere comfier.” He quickly moved to open the passenger door before coming back to lift you up, setting you down gently onto the seat. Once you were inside you watched him walk around the back of the car to close the trunk and through the rearview mirror you could see him squat down behind the car, his hands running through his hair. 

By the time he finally climbed behind the wheel, you could see the wet marks on his cheeks that hadn’t been there earlier. Clearly he hadn’t wanted you to see him cry so you didn’t say anything about it, simply lifting his hand once he tangled his fingers with yours so that you could kiss it. If you hadn’t already been slapped with the realization that you were in love with him, you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to deny it after today. 

At the hotel, Cale got checked in and took the bags up before coming to help you, supporting your bad side as you hobbled along inside. In your room, he helped you change into clean clothes before fetching some ice and insisting you relax in bed with your ankle propped up and ice on it. Only then did he go about changing himself and you watched him, tears pooling in your eyes. They weren’t from the pain, honestly you didn’t even notice that much anymore, rather it was from how utterly selfless he had been, once again putting all of your needs above his own. 

So when he fell asleep beside you, you didn’t say a word, content to just be, certain he needed the nap after hiking through insane terrain with that much added weight attached to him. 

Cale had been asleep for about an hour and a half when you finally slipped from bed to use the bathroom. Your ankle was stiff and ached, but the pain was no longer shooting up your leg and you could put some pressure on your foot. Deciding that you were not going to let a minor sprain ruin your last night alone together you quickly grabbed the other lingerie set you’d brought as well as the little black dress. Giving yourself a quick sponge bath, you dressed in the clean clothes before sneaking out for your makeup bag. 

Cale was still sound asleep even after you finished and though you wanted to let him rest, you were hungry and you definitely needed to eat before you took another set of pain relievers. 

Sliding onto the edge of the bed, you brushed some hair from his face before leaning down to kiss him lightly. 

“Cale...hun...wake up.” You urged. As his blue eyes slowly fluttered open, you smiled at the expression on his face as he took you in looking all dressed up. 

“Wha…?” The sound spilled from his throat so suddenly that you couldn’t help but giggle softly. 

“Your girlfriend wants some dinner. And ankle injury or not...she plans on enjoying her last night with you in Iceland.” Cale pushed himself to sit up in bed and you shifted to move so that he could get up. 

“Holy shit you’re hot.” He mumbled and the butterflies danced in your stomach at his words. 

“I know. The k-tape matches so nicely.” You joke. “Now get up, clean up if you want, change, and let’s go get some food.” You demanded teasingly. 

“Hmm...my girl is bossy when she’s injured. Interesting.” Cale hummed, moving to do what you had requested of him. 

When Cale finally stepped out of the bathroom looking refreshed and super sexy in just some nice jeans and a button-up, you snatched the room key off the desk and slid your feet into sandals. 

“Seriously...you look stunning.” He complimented again, his eyes taking an extra beat to run up your body. 

“Thank you.” Your skin flooded with heat at his compliment and you slid your fingers up along his back as he held the door open for you. “You look really good too.” You grinned. 

Dinner was shared over glasses of wine, the pair of you talking about your favorite things from the trip. This time tomorrow you’d be on a plane home and you didn’t even want to think about crawling into an empty bed for the first time in over a week. Focusing your attention on only the good things made you happy and it felt right to essentially conclude your time in Iceland in a similar fashion to the way it had started. 

You were a little bit tipsy by the time you returned to the room...both from the wine and the wonderful dinner with Cale. Draping your arms around his waist, you tucked yourself against his chest, peering up at him. 

“I know I’ve said it a couple times...but this has been the most wonderful trip…” You whispered. “I’m a lucky woman.” 

“After everything...I think this trip was exactly what we both needed.” Cale stated, downplaying his efforts. Sometimes he was too humble for his own good. 

“Will you shut up and accept the praise?” You murmured exasperatedly. “Or at the very least...shut up and help me out of this dress?” It wasn’t that you needed his help...it was that you wanted him to reveal the surprise underneath himself. 

“Bossy.” Cale repeated, lifting you up and carrying you across the room to the bed. As he laid you down, his hands slid your dress up over your ass revealing the bright blue lace you were wearing. At the sight of the lattice pattern across your stomach, Cale’s eyes practically bugged out of his head and you watched him swallow hard. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” Cale grunted, tugging the rest of the dress off of your body as quickly as he could. “Holy fuck.” Cale’s tongue flicked across his lips, repeatedly wetting them as he stared down at you. 

Reaching up, you slid your fingers together to undo the buttons of his shirt one at a time. When you reached the final button and Cale had yet to say anything else, you glanced back up at him to find his eyes glassy with lust. 

“Cat got your tongue there Cale?” You giggled, the sound turning to a quick shriek as Cale nipped a mark into your neck before kissing you. “Careful with the marks there hun...unless you want our secret to be out the minute we see your parents.” You whispered. Cale seemingly took your words to heart because he dropped down your body, leaving marks on your breasts and lower belly and even your inner thigh...all places summer clothing would cover. 

After a moment he returned to kiss you again and though the kiss started messy and x-rated, by the end, it was soft and languid. Knowing that you getting hurt had put Cale through the wringer emotionally and that he was likely thinking about what happened when you both went home tomorrow, you didn’t question him on the rapid flip of behavior. If he needed to work out those emotions physically, you were more than willing to let him use you to reach those ends. 

“Make love to me?” You whispered, fingers dragging gently through his hair. “Want you inside me.” 

“Yeah sweetheart...I can do that.” Cale agreed, nodding his head slightly before leaning down to kiss you again. 

As his hands drifted up and down your body you noted how careful he was being. He was hesitant about the weight of his body over you, how his fingers drifted along your skin, how his tongue explored your mouth as he kissed you. It made you feel like you were the most precious thing in the world...and maybe to him you actually were. 

By the time he even brushed his fingers against the lace, your body was tingling and heat was spread from head to toe. As much as you were absolutely aching for more, you didn’t dare rush him, knowing that after all he had given you, you could just bear with him to make sure that he was getting everything he needed in return. 

As Cale slowly slipped the lace off of your body, you whispered soft nothings to him, watching as his cheeks flushed at your words. When he started to slip down your body, you assured him that he didn’t have to do that...but your words fell on deaf ears and Cale settled himself between your thighs. 

“Just need a taste.” He mumbled, his nose bumping against your clit as he dove into your core. Like all his other movements had been tonight, the flick of his tongue inside you was slow. In a way, it was the sweetest torture because you wanted so much more. At the same time, you basked in the way Cale cared for you, affection swirling through you. 

Cale’s little ‘taste’ had you far closer to orgasm than you had expected by the time he finally pulled away, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. Sliding off the bed, he shucked his jeans and boxer briefs to the floor before climbing back over you, his dick hard against his belly. 

“Need you.” You pleaded, desperate to feel the stretch of your walls around him as he settled inside you. 

“Don’t worry...I got you.” Cale murmured, his tip sliding through your slick folds before easing inside slowly. Bottoming out, Cale grunted and you moaned, the sounds echoing through the room. 

You’d had slow sex before but this was something else. Despite the lazy pace, Cale’s thrusts were immediately unsteady and he quickly ducked his head into your shoulder like he was trying to ground himself. 

Torn between the pleasure growing inside you and your concern for Cale’s behavior you trailed your nails lightly over his back while your mouth peppered kisses against his head. 

Something was different. Something had been different for a few days. You’d assumed it was nothing...but maybe you’d been wrong. The rotation of Cale’s hips caused you to whine out his name unconsciously and when he lifted his head for just a moment and your eyes met his, it hit you all at once. 

He loves you. 

He didn’t need to say it for you to know it. The unspoken words, the moments where you felt like you had been missing something, they suddenly all made sense. Immediately tears poured down your cheeks and when Cale realized you were crying he froze. 

“Shit...am I hurting you?” He breathed. 

“No.” You whispered back, pulling his mouth down to yours so that you could kiss him, pouring everything you had into the action. The realization that he loves you the way that you love him; the fact that you were connected so intimately...it was all too much for your body to handle and you went flying over the edge, your body clinging to him tightly. Your mutual moans were muffled by each other’s mouth and you were coming down from your climax when you felt Cale spill inside you. 

When you’d asked Cale to make love to you, you hadn’t been expecting that. 

“Holy…” You gasped, your hands shaking as you ran them through your hair. 

“Yeah…” Cale mumbled, bracing his hand against your hip as he prepared to slip out of you. “I…” One look in his eyes told you exactly what he was thinking of saying. But honestly, after that, it wasn’t something you needed him to say. You felt it deep in your bones and while of course you wanted to hear it, you had a feeling that the same thing that was holding you back was doing the same for him. There would be a proper time and place to say those words...but right now wasn’t it. 

“I know.” You simply replied, cupping his rosy cheeks in your palms. “I know.” Cale kissed you again and it was clear that those words were all you needed to say. 

Dress and Lingerie:

[vfenrirsv]

She left her books, her car, her clothes, and a note

But all she wrote was, “Tonight I'm leaving on a train,”

She said she's headed west, to make it right, for one more night

And, well, I don't blame her if she is

They say it isn’t stupid to stay and fight for a relationship, because love is complicated and messy and people are more than just the sum of their quirks and dirty laundry or bad habits. They say it isn’t stupid to put your all into your relationship, to go all in, to open your heart and love with all of it; knowing that you might get hurt as well. They say there is no limit to love, that there is no mountain high enough or river deep enough…but I guess love only truly lives in song and sonnet, because if love were real then wouldn’t you be in as much pain as I am?

Wouldn’t you be suffering under the knowledge that the person you swore to love with all of yourself for the rest of your life didn’t even act like they want you anymore?

But he thinks it's just one more sunset

And after all, it's her fault if she hasn't caught on yet

So why'd you have to go?

Would you even miss me if I were gone? Would you walk the halls and cry for me? Would you stay awake at night and look to the stars, wondering where I was and how things could have gotten so twisted and turned around? Would you even notice that I wasn’t there? Would something in your soul feel missing or dark? Would you run down the drive and look for me the morning after you realized that I wasn’t coming back? Would you scream and demand that the heavens answer your question of why, why, why?

Or would you sit in front of your television or play on your phone, and mutinously stew in your own silence? Would you go to work every day, nary a disturbance to your life of work-grocery-home-shit-shower-sleep-repeat, going on and on like every other day? Would you look around and continue to ‘have nothing to say?’ Would you even look around at all?

Is there something I could say to make you turn around?

Cause nights like these I wish I'd said don't go

Is there anybody there?

Can anybody help to get me out of here?

'Cause you're walking down a road that I can't go

I’m already gone, even if I’m still here. I battle with myself about how much more to bend or struggle or argue. When we argue I am the one spilling my guts, crying and emoting and being rung dry while you sit in silence with a quick joke or flirty comment. “You’re so pretty.” You say it’s to make me feel better, but all it does is chip away at what little of my feelings I have left. Do you even care? Have you even realized that I’m leaving, that I’m out the door, that I’m disappearing right in front of you? I’m disappearing from this life, this relationship, from the friendship I thought we had, inch by inch by painful fucking inch.

Have you even realized that I’ve stopped arguing with you, stopped asking you to talk to me; have you noticed yet that I’ve simply stopped?

Is there anybody there?

Can anybody help to get me out of here?

'Cause you're walking down a road that I can't go

If you were fighting for this relationship, if you were determined to stitch it back together; failures and all, would you argue with me more? Would you get overwhelmed and angry and loud? Would you throw things or slam doors? Would you demand answers and dedication and a second, or third, or tenth chance? Would you get desperate and panic, thinking that everything was your fault, like I do? Would you turn your mind over and over, trying to find a solution to problems that you know aren’t even fixable anymore? Would you lose sleep like I do? Would you forget to take care of yourself? Would you get sick to your stomach like I do?

Would you dread the thought that you’ve become a complete and utter failure, like I do?

Try as I might, I just can't handle this

I lost myself inside a drunken kiss, and I

All that I wanted was to walk you home

Save a sad song for the sing-along

Would you even recognize rejection anymore?

When I say “You haven’t kissed me today,” and you kiss me on the cheek, do you even understand how sad that makes me; how utterly low it brings me? Instead of dragging me close and laying claim to my lips and stealing the breath from my lungs, you skim my cheek for a millisecond before pulling away. If my love language were affection, you’d be speaking loud and clear. It doesn’t matter that you follow it up with a peck on the lips. “I’m just not good enough for you anymore, am I?” you ask. Truthfully? No, I don’t think so anymore. I am not going to apologize for outgrowing a relationship or a person who had the option to grow with me but stubbornly refused to.

When I tell you “I need you,” and throw myself at you, change my clothes and my under things and my actions, when I come on to you and give you every opportunity to have me in the way that a man wants a woman; you smile at me, call me cute, and feed me an excuse. Do you know how that makes me feel? To know that the only man I want to crave couldn’t care less for a taste of me? Have you even realized that I’ve stopped propositioning you? Your excuses taste like ash in my mouth and sound like static in my ears.

Do you even know the last time you touched me? No? I do. I am intimately familiar with all of the times you’ve left me wanting.

In sixteen days it will be a year. A fucking year. 12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days. 8,760 hours. 525,600 minutes. 31,536,000 seconds, each an opportunity denied. Do you have any idea how the fuck that makes me feel? Do you even fucking care what you’ve done by doing nothing? Are you even aware of the neglect that I feel? That is YOUR fault. I am livid. I have spent money needlessly on lingerie and waxing and short dresses and makeup and have watched more than my fair share of tasteless x-rated cinema to get ideas on how to fucking please you and for what? FOR WHAT? For. Absolutely. Nothing. A fucking year? Are you fucking serious?!

We’ve been married a year and four months, and it seems like I don’t mean anything to you at all.

Oh excuse me, my bad, I pay my share of the bills – so I guess I’m good for something.

And what she'd give for one more smile

And how she hoped he missed her

'Cause, God, she missed how he would kiss her

You know, I lay awake at night and I wonder; would we have been better if we had waited to get married – would we even be married at all? If we had catered to everyone else’s needs, delayed everything, if I had been witness to all of this earlier, would I have been able to foresee how much you don’t respond to me anymore? If I had slowed down and kept a part of my heart to myself, would I be better off? If I had stayed with my job up north, would things have progressed as they have? If I put my foot down about moving down here, was more vocal against moving into this oversized house, more resistant about sacrificing my preferences and wants; would anything be different?

If I didn’t love you as much as I do, would I be better off? If I didn’t believe that sometimes love isn’t enough, would we be better than we are now? What if, what if, what if…

So why'd you have to go?

Is there something I could say to make you turn around?

'Cause nights like these I wish I'd said don't go

Is there anybody there?

Can anybody help to get me out of here?

'Cause you're walking down a road that I can't go

Who have I even become in this relationship? I can’t stand the person that I have become, and if I don’t love myself anymore how in the world can I expect you to? I’ve stopped taking care of myself, and I’ve stopped taking care of you – but jesuseverlovingchrist it isn’t my responsibility to take care of you. I am not your mother, your maid, or even your mistress. You refuse to take care of yourself? Fine. Then don’t.

And if you won’t love me, then I will just have to love myself instead.

I used to be vivacious, exciting, and adventurous. I would go out to drink and flirt on New Year’s Eve. I’d kiss a stranger, and have fun doing it! I’d dress and make myself up just to turn someone’s head, to catch someone’s eye, to feel coveted. I would pack a bag and go hiking or camping on a whim. I’d get on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle and hold them close and feel the thrill of speed and power beneath me on the highway. I’d swim naked in the sea and sleep in my car on three-day weekends. I’d stay up past midnight to watch the stars disappear and the sun rise over the ocean. I’d make friends of friends, chat up strangers in coffee shops and bookstores. I used to try things for the sake of trying them. There was always the thrill of the unknown.

Now? I stay at home, holed up in a bedroom with paint on the walls and carpet on the floor that I can’t stand. I fucking hatehatehate the color. Who thought that beige-everything was a good idea? I spend all my time reading books and avoiding the world. I can’t even live well in the shadow of my unhappiness. I just eat, and eat, and eat and grow fat and sick of the shade that I cast. I can’t do this anymore.

I’m leaving, and even if you tried to stop me, I don’t know that I’d even believe that you meant it.

'Cause you're walking down a road that I can't go

Yeah, you're walking down a road that I can't go

You're walking down a road that I can't…

Disappearing By Inches, by Vann Fenrirs Volchitsa

Champagnes For Celebrating, by Mayday Parade

[crimson-rose15]

Until Dawn - Chapter 1

(A/N): So...I haven’t figured out a day that I’ll update this story on each week, so as of right now, it’ll be updated sometime each weekend (Hopefully. I may miss a week sometime within the upcoming months because I may--MAY--be going to visit some friends in Reno, Nevada. If I do? then check out my Instagram (crimson_rose15) cause I’ll most definitely be uploading pictures and stuff if I do end up going (it would be the first thing I ever do by myself without my family if I do it, including getting on a plane by myself, and it’s both terrifying and exciting to think about, not gonna lie), but if I don’t go? then I’ll keep you guys updated on both this story, and what may or may not happen ^_^)

Also, here’s the Prologue if you haven’t read it.

Now; let’s get into the story, shall we?

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John was jolted awake tat the feel of someone gently shaking his arm, gasping softly as his eyes all but snapped open, looking over at the driver of the vehicle he was in, seeing the soft, sideways smile Jaren gave him in apology for waking him up so suddenly.

“Sorry if I scared you,” Jaren spoke, focusing on the road as he slowed the vehicle down, turning off the highway onto a dirt road, “But we’re basically there; I didn’t want you to miss how beautiful it looks with all the snow on the trees. It looks like something out of a painting or something.”

“As long as I don’t have to go on any nature hikes, I’ll be good,“ John spoke, sleep lacing his voice even as he tried to will himself to stay awake, “Maybe I’ll be able to finish my nap. Haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“Well, hopefully this vacation will help with that,” Jaren chuckled, “Even if neither of us have been here before.”

“Why did we agree to come here again?”

“Because all of us wanted to take a break and hang out. Plus you needed to get out of your house, that’s why.”

“I didn’t agree to taking a break in a cabin on a mountain in the middle of nowhere. Jason Vorhees could be lurking around ready to kill us for all we know.”

“First of all, it’s not Friday, and second, Friday will not be on the thirteenth of this month. Jason couldn’t come after us even if he wanted to.”

John huffed out a laugh, leaning his head against the window, watching the trees as they drove by them, feeling his eyes beginning to close yet again. He felt so tired...

“Hey, keep your eyes open,” Jaren spoke softly, not wanting to sour John’s mood, “We’re almost there, remember?”

“I don’t care,” John spoke, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he shifted into a more comfortable position, closing his eyes as he started to go back to sleep, “If I’m tired, I’m gonna sleep. My sleep cycle is fucked as it is. What harm will taking a nap do?”

“I brought some melatonin with me if you wanna use it,” Jaren spoke, glancing at John, and then returning his focus to the road, “It’s non-addictive, and actually helps me sleep at night. Maybe it’ll help you, if you don’t look at your phone all night long.”

“My phone is my second best friend,” John spoke, his eyes still closed, “You even think about taking it away from me, and I’ll hide it in a place that you wouldn’t dare to go searching for it.”

“I already know you’d stuff it in your pants to keep anyone from taking it,” Jaren spoke, chuckling nervously, “As disturbing of an image as that may be...”

“No one told you that you had to imagine what I got down there,” John answered, smirking as he opened his eyes, giving a sideways look at Jaren, “Unless you actually wanted to see what--”

“Nope!” Jaren spoke quickly, cutting him off, shaking his head ‘no’, “Nope nope nope! We are not gonna talk about that subject, John!”

John chuckled, sitting up straight, knowing that he wasn’t gonna be able to get back to sleep even if he wanted to at that point, looking out the front window, his eyes widening slightly as he took in everything;

Jaren was right; it was beautiful to look at. The snow on the trees and on the mountains in the distance looked like something you could only find in professionally-taken pictures...

That’s when John shuddered, narrowing his eyes at the troubling thought that entered his mind, closing his eyes as he tried to will the thought away.

“They don’t know what happened,” John thought, opening his eyes again, looking at the dashboard of the vehicle, “And they can’t find out, either. They won’t understand why...why I’m...”

“John? you okay?” Jaren asked, his eyes narrowed in concern, “You look...scared. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” John spoke, looking away, out the passenger window, “Just thinking about something is all. There’s no need to be concerned, it’s not that important of a thought. Okay?”

“Okay...” Jaren spoke, knowing that something was up despite John telling him not to worry, “I’m here to talk if you need to, alright?”

John hummed in agreement, letting out a soft sigh as he calmed himself down, pulling his phone out of his pocket, looking down at the screen, his expression turning disappointed as he saw that he had no bars on his phone.

“Dammit. No internet.”

“All the more reason to not use your phone either than to take pictures while we’re on vacation,” Jaren spoke, the conversation turning into a comfortable silence not long after those words left his mouth, John putting his phone away and leaning slightly back against his seat, watching the twists and turns of the road, thankful that Jaren didn’t speed up despite it being clear of snow and potholes.

He wasn’t a fan of going off the road by accident because of not knowing what was around the corner. Dirt roads were not like paved roads, and he was thankful that Jaren understood that.

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

About twenty minutes later, they came into sight of a rather large cabin, huge windows in the front, a wrap-around balcony for the second floor with a wrap-around porch on the first floor, six vehicles sitting out front of the cabin.

“We’re here,” Jaren announced, finding a place to park before shutting the car off, “I’m happy we aren’t the first ones here, to be honest. I wouldn’t know what to do if we had to wait.”

“Well...” John spoke, trailing off deliberately, Jaren glaring at him as he did, “I’m kidding, Jaren. Unless you actually--”

Jaren didn’t let him finish, opening his door before getting out, closing it behind him, opening the door to the back seat, grabbing his suitcase quickly before closing the door to the back seat, walking off towards the cabin, leaving John who was still in the car, laughing at how the Omega had reacted.

“Worth a shot,” John spoke to himself before getting out, closing his door before opening the door on his side to the back seat before grabbing his own suitcase, closing the car door before catching up with Jaren, who had waited for him next to the front door of the cabin before the two of them headed inside.

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(A/N): ...I broke my promise on updating each week...I’m sorry if I made anyone mad at me...I swear that I’m trying my hardest when it comes to this story...

Anyways; how was this for a first chapter? was it good? bad? meh? (Any and all feedback is welcome, by the way. I don’t bite, I promise lol (Also; sorry if this chapter seems a bit rushed. I don’t mean to make it seem that way, and I have no excuse if it does seem that way. I’ll work hard to make sure that chapter 2 doesn’t seem rushed, I swear it.))

Love all my Readers!

[tarithenurse]

Stranded

Pairing: Loki Odinson x fem!reader Content: FLUFF!! A tiny bit of angst in order to create a bit of plot. A/N: I rarely write anything as soft and sweet as I’ve attempted here. I would be incredibly grateful for feedback so I can find out if it’s okay or I should worry about being lynched by FRA (fluff readers associated). Any comments are appreciated.  

Stranded - One shot

The day has been long and with way too many issues at work to even bother pretending to be a part of real life. That in itself is not something new and explains why you've got a "care package" in the trunk of your car. It doesn't contain a lot, just a few blankets, some chocolate, an energy drink or water (depending on how healthy you are pretending to be at the moment), and a sketchbook with pencils. All of that is the key items you have found out you end up needing when driving off to your "secret" hideaway. It's almost an hour from work and in the opposite direction of where you live, but oh yeah, it's worth it!

You reach the forest in the late afternoon and park the car. About a mile down the official track between oaks and beech trees, you take a left onto the thin track made over decades by deer and other large mammals that tread silently among the trees and past the creek until you reach the hill. It's steep, and you have to hold on to branches and roots to reach the top where the clearing opens up to a world that seems untouched by man. Almost, at least. The noise of cars from the highway further north can be heard dimly, especially now that rush hour has started, but the view across the great lake is undisturbed and the sun beams down merrily for at least three hours still, so you spread out one blanket on the long grasses and settle down after stripping down to only your undies. Why? The question is “why not”. You've still never met a human being out here and you're pretty darn certain the animals don't care.

...

Even with your eyes closed you can feel that the sun has shifted considerably, meaning you must've fallen asleep. Stretching lazily, you inhale the scent of wildflowers carried on the cooling evening breeze. Glancing from under heavy eyelids at the horizon, it surprises you that the sun isn't exactly where it should be...in fact...it seems to be behind you, but that's wrong because that would mean it's morning. After you rub your eyes (several times, just to be sure), you have to admit that the lake isn't there either and now you come to think of it, you've never before been able to see the mountain range from here. It’s all too strange for you to truly fathom.

That's when you hear the voices – so much for no humans around. They could be tourists hiking because they don't speak a language you understand but foreigners or not, you're not ready to appear naked before innocent people. Reaching for your pile of clothes, your hand closes around...grass.

"Fuck."

It's the most intelligent thing you can think of at the moment. The clothes are gone and so is the backpack with the few things you always bring with you out there. There's just the blanket you're sitting on and the undies you're wearing which will be nowhere near enough to cover you decently.

...   Loki PoV   ...

For once Thor is the one complaining about the little surveillance-trip that the brothers have been sent out on. Maybe it is because it is mainly Loki's idea, but it could also be due to the fact that the indication for the trip is a "sense of change" which only the younger brother, Frigga, and the Bridge Keeper have experienced without pinpointing further yet. No one would dare question neither the queen's nor Heimdal's powers. Loki's though? Odin has a tendency to disapprove of the prince's use of magic and that has rubbed off on Thor who favours strength above cunning. Bumbling several paces behind, the brute is now loudly complaining while pushing at any old tree he can find just to hear the wood groan at his might.

"This is folly, brother," the blond complains, "leaving Sif and the horses behind just to walk all this way! And why?!"

Loki knows why and has in fact tried to explain it several times already which is the reason Sif refused to go along. Instead of attempting again, he quietly aims for the crest of the slope while the complaints continue behind him. The intangible sensation of something that does not belong draws him into the clearing where the tall grasses and wildflowers bow to the soft evening winds and the rushed flutter of a blanket pulled around a female figure. Stopping in his tracks, Loki takes in the stranger who looks so utterly lost. Big eyes, naked shoulders and arms that cling to the knitted shroud. A stray blade of grass in the hair.

"Hello," the pale prince offers, "do not be frightened, I shan't hurt you. What is your name?"

The pretty head cocks to the side, sparkling eyes squint at him almost as though she cannot believe he is there. At that moment Thor comes trampling out of the treeline, now swinging his axe at the highly hostile blossoms while making idiotic sounds as though he was a child battling an imaginary army.

"Thor...THOR!" The bumbling idiot finally stops to look at his brother. "Lower your axe, you are scaring our...guest."

"Thor?" The voice is meek but clear like water, captivating the attention of both brothers. "Thor...Loki?"

They nod, but if they had expected any further clarifications, they would have been sorely disappointed because the woman begins to laugh. Shy at first then louder and louder until her entire body is shaking. A string of intelligible words pour from her plumps lips, ending with an upwards lilt.

"Do you know the language?" Thor asks.

There is no language within the nearest realms that Loki does not speak, still this one is unintelligible though familiar to him. "Not yet. Stay here." He walks forward, hands spread to the sides to prove he is unarmed in the hopes that the woman will not be scared. "My name is indeed Loki," he speaks softly, "I do not understand your language, so I beg of you to allow me to cast a spell on you."

One step more, then another and...noticing the twitch in her body, the raven-haired god stops, holding out a hand to her instead. The entire world holds its breath as the stranger makes up her mind, looking about as if waiting for an answer that will not come before she moves slowly. The folds of the blanket part, allowing a glimpse of a bare leg as she carefully steps closer. There is a moment of hesitation before she changes the hold on the cover and takes his hand.

Thin silver particles pass between their fingers and enter her bloodstream. She does not panic (which would have been a reasonably logical thing to do) but watches with interest.

"What on earth...?" The incredulity is like sweet honey on the words.

Loki smiles, already two clues richer. "My apologies, my lady." He bows to kiss the soft hand. "I have cast a spell on you to improve the chances of a dialogue."

She does not pull the hand back unkindly, although the look she shoots Loki is hard. "How gullible do you think I am?"

"I beg you pardon?" The urge to reach out for the woman as she steps away is strong and even Thor must realize that things are not going as expected. "I assure you we have no reason to think less of you...nor are we trying to deceive you in any manner."

A scoff, bordering on a snort, clearly proves what she thinks. "Right, so two mythological characters are parading around in the middle of nowhere in a forest on Earth? Yeah right! There's no -"

"Asgard." Thor interjects helpfully.

The wind plays in the leaves, a bird sings goodnight to the last rays of the sun that will reach the hilltop, and the nameless woman stares tiredly from one brother to the other. When she finally does resume to action, it is merely to readjust the knitted blanket and turn away. Treading carefully about, she begins to search for something.

Thor leans over to whisper conspiratorially to Loki after a while. "She truly does not believe us."

"It appears not," Loki admits, "perhaps she would feel safe to come with us if we were in the company of another lady..."

"Sif?" Thor scratches his chin, while considering the options. He is not much for going back to the horses only to go up hill again and then eventually down once more when the girl ultimately, as he voices the concern, refuses to come along. But what other options are there? "As you wish."

…   Reader PoV   ...

Out of all the weirdoes in the world, at least the two Viking-wannabes seem friendly enough for now….except maybe, the broad dude with the axe. You sigh, unsure what to think of anyone who'd run around with what looks like a very sharp murder weapon. Anyways, you've more pressing matters to attend to because you need your stuff: clothes, shoes, keys, all of it...but you can't find it anywhere in the tall grass. It probably got lost with my mind, you bicker at yourself, considering that you almost believe the men.

Everything is wrong. You've come to the little slice of heaven for years and the place you're at now? It's just not "it". There are several similarities, sure, there just happen to be a lot more differences that you can't explain in any reasonable manner.

"Asgard," you huff, widening the perimeter of the search, "as if."

Painfully aware that the men are whispering behind your back, there's nothing comforting about the so-called Thor leaving a bit later. Correction, it's perfectly fine that he leaves, but less so that the slender guy stays…especially the way his watching you like he's trying to learn everything there is to know including your weaknesses and fears and… You stop yourself before you think further just in case the whole spell-casting-thing isn't some weird made-up thing. Oh, man. Of course it's made up! There's no such thing as magic and the shimmer when he took your hand was just a trick of the light. Rubbing your hand, it's comforting that it doesn't feel any different.

Your brain keeps searching for all the logical explanations for the things you can't actually explain, and it gets you so wrapped up in theories that you don't notice that the spirally path leads you right up to "Loki" again. Much too close to him, you back away only to step on the hem of the blanket.

It's exactly like in the movies: as if from outside your own body, you witness the slow motion rendition of how you stumble and almost fall. Almost, because Loki somehow swoops you into his arm while also managing to pull the little cover you have around your torso again. And there you are, supported in a stranger's arms gasping in surprise at the nearness of his body and gorgeous face. Turquoise eyes twinkle down at you with mischief and tenderness that you don't even want to recognize while at the same time drawing you in like a moth to the flame. Trying to shift your focus away from the sharp cheekbones and elegant brows, you find a new distraction in his shoulders where your arm is draped around. Oh, he might be slender, but there's absolutely shape under those weird clothes.

"Are you alright, lady…?" His deep voice hangs in the air like the scent of jasmine.

"[Y/N]," you offer lamely, "my name's [Y/N]...and I'm…I'm okay."

If it had been a movie then there'd be a 50-50 chance of a kiss at this point. Thankfully, it turns out the odds are in your favour (or so you remind yourself) and there's no romantic exchange, instead the man helps you get your footing and then he lets go of you.

"Fret not, I will see you safely returned to your home world." Loki probably meant the smile to be reassuring, it ends up as slightly sad instead. "In the meantime, however, may I offer you shelter for the night? And...proper clothes upon arrival at the castle?"

That's how you end up following Loki into the forest, meeting Thor and a fierce looking woman not far from the hilltop, and on until you reach three horses waiting for their owners. Thor and the woman, Sif, are in the saddles and on the move before you can blink, leaving Loki's horse as the only ride. It's a fair way up for a blanket-dressed person.

"I'm a good walker," you start to explain, wanting to remain safely on the ground as much as you hate being a burden.

But the handsome god (because you can't help but think of him as such) is already at your side. "Allow me to assist, lady [Y/N]."

And how can you refuse him when he smiles so kindly and look so worried? A nod, then he's wrapped those big hands around your waist and lifting you so effortlessly you can hardly believe it.

...   Loki  PoV   ...

[Y/N] fits so snugly against his chest it seems like she belongs there. The first part of the ride, she has been trying to maintain some distance between them, but the rocking motions of the gallop makes it impossible and eventually she gives up. Instead, she busies herself with watching the landscape. Loki can feel how her body tenses and he imagines a frown on her face.

"This...this really isn't Earth, is it?"

Midgard. "No, my lady," Loki acknowledges quietly. She must be frightened by the situation.

Rather than weep or panic, though, [Y/N] speaks calmly. "How did I get here?"

"I am not certain yet…we sensed a shift in the essence of the verses as though something or rather someone passed through the veils."

"Me..."

She lapses back into a pensive silence as the horse carries them across the plains under the darkening sky. The first stars are visible now that the fire of the setting sun has diminished, and the woman looks to the heavens with a sigh. How does she see our world? Already, the prince has been to scores of realms either in times of war or as a diplomatic emissary, and each time he has revelled in studying the foreign cultures as though searching for something he cannot quite identify. He is almost able to place himself in her position as they crest the hill, bringing the palace and surrounding city into view.

“Oh.” The gasp reaches him softly.

Valhalla and the roofs of the many surrounding buildings glitter with gold illuminated by braziers and magic. Beyond the city, the Bifrost appears like a straight, luminescent line of brilliant colours heading for the vastness of space beyond the lone observatory. Under normal circumstances, visitors to the realm of Asgard would arrive there on the edge of the world and follow the rainbow road to the palace. Not this time. How did a Midgardian come here unaided?

…

Already before passing through the city gates, Loki has swept his cloak around the maiden to protect her from the night’s cold and now the curious gazes of Asgardians. Under the shielding fabric, there is a slight shift in [Y/N] posture as she presses closer to the only ally she has at that moment. Her heart is beating wildly, her muscles like springs as though preparing to flee…but to where?

“Do no fret, my lady,” Loki whispers, “no harm shall befall you.”

“Some might argue that it already has…otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

…   Reader PoV   …

You actually want to stay pissed off at the pompous, medieval, alien of a bastard but everything you see distracts you from it. Asgard, because what else could this place be, is nothing short of magical. You could almost believe it to be actual magic with trees that glow (that turns out to be fireflies, though), and space at the end of a road build of rainbows…your logic won’t buy it though. There’s no such thing as magic, just science we don’t understand yet. The argument sounds like a joke as the horses step towards the mighty gates of the castle. Of Valhalla.

The deep bows performed by anyone you pass aren’t meant for you but the princes and maybe the dark-haired woman. Sif. Not the Sif from the myths, though, that’s for sure. Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding? This woman looks like a warrior, tall and strong upon the horse, with shield and sword at her sides. There’s no smile on her lips and she’s not once bothered to look at you as opposed to the Asgardians you’ve passed on the way through the city.

Turning slightly to face Loki, you whisper: “Who erm…the stern lady, who’s that again?”

An amused twitch of his lips light his eyes with a sparkle of green. “She is Lady Sif, a dear friend of my brother and me and among the bravest of warriors in Asgard…she is also the grumpiest after having been proven wrong –“

“Wrong?!” A clear voice cuts through from up ahead. “There was not, as I pointed out, any tracks or camps indicating the arrival of foreign forces.”

Both men chuckle good-naturedly, and you can’t help adore the rumble passing to you from Loki’s chest. It feels familiar to listen to the three of them teasing each other, feigning horror of being “abandoned alone”, and reminiscing on past rescues where Sif seems to have been more than capable to save the men’s asses. Royalty or not, the friendship is stronger than the ranks, helping you forget that part until it’s time to dismount.

“Brother, lady Sif,” Loki calls out while detangling himself from the cloak and allowing you to keep it, “go ahead and explain mother and the All-Father that we have a guest in need of a caring hand.”

Of course they find the suggestion reasonable, leaving you alone with the dark-haired man. Turquoise eyes beam up at you. How did he get down there so elegantly? Wordlessly, you slide into the waiting arms that bring you safely to the ground only for his hands linger on your waist as you stand impossibly close to him. Holy smoke, he’s handsome! Perfectly sharp lines softened by an almost eerie grace that you would’ve attributed the elves of the fantasy stories you once read. Thin but soft lips made more beautiful by a gentle smile. Hair so black you almost suspect it’s not real hair but magic – magic which you of course don’t believe in. Now he is looking down at you, the eyes have deepened in the shadows until they are endless pools of dark green and midnight blue with silver streaks.

“Allow me,” the perfect man murmurs before adjusting the cloak around you, closing the golden clasp by your sternum.

…

The grand hall with the king on the throne placed at the veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery far end makes you feel tiny. Not tiny the way a child in a grown up world does, or the way that stargazing will make you feel insignificant in the grand scheme of things. No, this is tiny in the way an insect must feel as the human tries to determine if it’s a mosquito or not. Thankfully, Odin is convinced by more than just Loki that you’re no pest but a frail butterfly that should be nursed and eventually relocated to the natural habitat; and queen Frigga takes charge of your wellbeing, bringing you to a room bigger than your apartment where she provides clothes and food for you before leaving you to do as you please.

Even though the guest room supposedly is “sparsely” decorated it still falls in line with the style of the castle. Woven tapestry covering parts of the bare walls with images of landscapes and plants so vivid it might actually have been portals to those places; soft carpets forming islands on the stone floor upon which heavy furniture of ornately carved wood and golden metals rest; windows offering a view to the palace gardens – a view that is echoed in the enormous mirror above the fireplace. The canopy bed isn’t far from another door which turns out to lead to the bathroom of your dreams. The choice is made. Bath first.

…

The old, knitted blanket is neatly folded on the bed, looking out of place against the silks and furs but bringing a tad of homey comfort to the weird situation you’re stuck in. The emerald cloak is resting next to it, waiting for a chance to be returned to the rightful owner. Instead of wearing any of those two items, you’ve dressed yourself in the softest tunic and leather pants, a wide strip of emerald cloth wrapping around the waist of the brown and white ensemble. It might not be what the queen would have chosen, but it’s the least foreign you could find in a closet full of dresses and cloaks and it allows you to sit comfortably curled up in the broad windowsill to enjoy the delicate cold meal with the best view.

A knock on the door and a voice calling for you softly. You immediately know who it is and call out for him to enter.

…   Loki PoV   …

She does as I do. All his youth, the prince has favoured sitting by the glass if he could not go outside. To see [Y/N] do the same warms his heart.

“I hope you find everything to your liking?”

His question makes her smile broadly for the first time, melting the frown away that had seemed near permanent since he first laid eyes on her upon the hilltop. The bright eyes never abandoned the curious intellect that captivates him, but to see the glimmer of joy there…perhaps this unwanted adventure will not break her spirit.

“It’s great. Thank you.”

Sliding from the seat, she walks to the bed to pick up something, yet Loki only has eyes for the green sash accentuating the waist and the faint shade of her skin beneath the white tunic. The fabric is wet on the shoulders and the seam of the neck from where the water has soaked in from her hair.

“Here,” suddenly she stands before him, teeth worrying softly at the plump lower lip, “it’s…erm…thanks for letting me borrow…it…”

How can it be so awkward being near the only one that feels right? “My honour, m’lady.”

Fingers brush against each other as he takes the bundle from her, begging him to linger, to say anything merely to hear her voice once more. Electric warmth tingles where she has touched him now and before.

“Why…” she begins, but then must think better of it.

“You may ask anything of me.”

“You call me my lady…but I’m not royalty.”

Neither are you mine, yet my heart sings to you. “Noble blood is not all there is to being a lady.” The answer elicits the sweetest shyness that heats her cheeks. “And furthermore…I may have a say in who is deemed worthy of titles, so if I wished for you to be a lady…I could sway the powers that be.”

“Oh?” A single eyebrow raises in challenge. “You can do anything? What else can you make me?”

“Happy?”

The magic Loki possesses is not strong enough to undo time, if it was then he would wind back a few seconds now to unsay that single word. The prettiest eyes he has ever been lost in open wide, the lips barely part to free a soft gasp of surprise at his boldness. Fool! The derogatory is far from the only one he mentally yells at himself, already stepping backwards out the door as he tries to formulate an apology.

“Wait…” Frozen in place he cannot bear to look at her. “You already saved me, prince Loki, but I do have a…a…plea…”

There is an unexpected gentleness to her voice, compelling the man to look up with hope. “Anything.”

“Please…show me your favourite place to be on your own?”

…   Reader PoV   …

You’re wearing his cape again, but this time he has brought one for himself too. The horse you share with him is the same as well just like the nerves that surge through your body from the constant pressure of his chest against your back.

None of you speak as the animal carries you through the city under the curious scrutiny of the citizens. What are they thinking? Hopefully nothing mean. It’s not like you’re likely to get to see (or at least recognize) them again before you’ll be…what? Frigga had promised that you’d be brought home, but that the king must see to the safety of his so-called realm first – in this case by gleaning some information from you or the place you had arrived at. There was no doubt the kind treatment mainly is due to the friendliness of the queen and her sons. Her son. Yes, despite the generous hospitality you have convinced Loki to take you away from the safety of the gorgeous room at your disposal on some impulsive whim that has you begging for the familiarity of your hill…but that hill is worlds away and you could only think of one person understanding what you might need.

While you’ve been pondering, the city has drifted away behind you, allowing the horse to gallop full speed in the broken darkness where everything appears in tones of grey. Maybe it knows the way. Maybe Loki is that good of a rider. Regardless, you feel safe under the alien stars as the creature thunders along an unseen road and onto a beach. There’s a steady rumble of waves sloshing against the shore, splashing high enough to wet your bare feet. Far beyond the waters, though not as far as you would expect, is the endlessness of space dazzling you.

Warm breath fans your chin for a second before it’s swept away. “Merely a moment longer, my lady.”

He is true to his word, of course. When you dismount, you follow a path off the beach to the top of a scraggy cliffside and continue no more than a couple of meters around a boulder until the two of you reach a natural shelf with the night sky reaching above and beyond. Constellations of stars (similar and different from those seen from home) make room for swirling galaxies the closer to the horizon you look.

“This is…” you try to explain the calming effect the place has on you only to find words aren’t enough.

It fuels a longing for somewhere you don’t know yet while giving you a sense of belonging because really…what else is there? Places, planets, will come and go through the endless eons while you’re nothing but a tiny blip that has been granted the chance to witness the vastness of it all, to be a part of it, and form the lives of those around you whichever way you see fit. It’s comforting that nothing you can do will be so bad they can mess up the grand scheme of things, while daunting to know that the time you have is full of endless possibilities.

“I know.”

Behind you, Loki has spread out a roll of fur on the ground for you both to sit on, leaning calmly against the cliff with his long legs stretched before him. Absurdly aware of your body, you join him while carefully keeping just a few inches of distance.

None of you try to fill the time with speaking, that’s not the reason for this place to exist. Cosmic clouds show off the brilliance of the newborn stars they hold while suns belonging to other planets blink as if sending signals in Morse code. A particular bright one has a green glow to it that reminds you of the eyes of the man beside you, and the thought alone sends a fluttery cascade of excitement through your chest.

This is ridiculous! A night bird tests the quiet air from somewhere further in land. I can’t be falling for him…it’s just…just the foreign feel of it all. The haphazard notes take shape of a gentle melody which quiets your frantic mind. How silly of you to think that there are any other feelings at play here than those logically ignited by being stranded. On a planet from old Norse mythology. Surrounded by people that have been known and sort of forgotten by humans for a thousand years. All very logical, yes. Sighing, you allow your head to fall back against the stone and the more normal-looking stars twinkle above.

“I am sorry, lady [Y/N].”

Glancing over, you can see how he’s looking at you with concern. “You don’t need to call me lady…just [Y/N] is fine.”

The nod and smile are subtle but still manage to send waves of warmth from your toes to the top of your head. “Very well…” the prince concedes, “allow me to forego formalities completely.”

“O-okaaay…”

“It is nigh impossible for any of us to understand how you must feel.” He covers your hand that’s resting on your thigh, sending electricity tickling through your veins. “And I fear I may be out of place when I confess…it warms my heart to have brought you some comfort by sharing this place with you.”

Loki has turned towards you, leaning close enough for you to wish for more as the mesmerizing eyes draw you in. If only you were to stretch a little extra. Or maybe let your fingertips brush the stray locks of black hair from his face. All the wonders of the universe seem to fade away as your hand moves on its own and the gentle man’s face comes closer yet to yours almost like he –

“My son.” The voice belongs to the queen. “Lady [Y/N].”

Seconds later, Frigga slips past the boulder and into view of Loki, who already has jumped to his feet, and you. Your face is burning, but at least the starlight won’t reveal neither that nor the harsh scolding you give yourself silently.

…   Loki PoV   …

Naturally, mother insists on being chatty company on the way home. She even takes it upon herself to see first [Y/N] to the room too before looping her arm into his and leading the way to his chambers. The prince knows Frigga is preparing to say something and that the sudden silence is a sign of her choosing her words carefully…after all, she is the true diplomat in the relationship with Odin.

“What is it, mother?” Loki sighs, knowing that the last paces to his door will not save him. “Do you not appreciate our guest?”

“Oh, my dear, you know I do,” she pokes him teasingly, but her face regains the severe calmness just as quickly as the joy had flared, “yet as you say…she is merely our guest. Lady [Y/N] comes from another world to which she must return.”

Although the words are true, Loki finds he is loath to hear them. People throughout the verses move from one place to another every day in the hope of finding shelter, work, or even love. As the second son, should it be impossible for him to do the same if he was wanted elsewhere? If I ask her…would she…? But Odin would refuse any possibility, leaving only one option.

“Of course,” tracing the line in his palm as though nothing of import was being discussed, he shrugs, “that is to be expected. She belongs on Midgard.”

“Loki, my son, please listen to me.” Stopping them both, Frigga grabs his hands in both of hers. “The Midgardians live short lives. Burning bright until their light is snuffed out all too soon whereas we live for thousand of years with the ghosts of their memories and a hollow ache left in their place. Please, protect yourself…let her go.”

Stunned at Frigga’s words, there is no answer readily available to the normally sharp-tongued god. Is this experience talking? But his mother has already kissed his cheek and left his side without giving Loki an opportunity to ask the many questions burning in his heart.

…

He brings [Y/N] to the garden the next day to enjoy the sun beaming down upon the fragrant lilies and roses of any colour. Again, she has chosen the simple clothes of trousers and tunic (this time one of light yellow silk) fitted with a sash, catching surprised glances from passing servants and members of the court which [Y/N] deftly ignores. Walking barefoot over the grass, she begs to know about life on Asgard and Loki is more than happy to tell. Nearly forgotten tales of mischief from his childhood are recovered and exchanged in return for a bubbling laughter echoed by the cheerful melodies of thrush and lark. As evening draws near, casting the garden in cool shadows, they are still deeply engrossed in conversation when Frigga finds them.

“Lady [Y/N],” the queen smiles sweetly, “I do apologize for interrupting such pleasant times…however, I do insist that you are made ready for tonight’s feast.”

“Feast?” A glimmer of anxiety widens the guest’s [Y/E/C] eyes. “Made re- erm…how so, your majesty?”

Loki stands to bid them goodbye, knowing that this is a moment for his mother to explain what has been arranged for the night, and although the prince would love to be a fly on the wall during that conversation, he himself has been lax in regard to the day’s tasks.

….

Unable to detain himself any longer, the youngest prince has already made his way to the dining hall in hope of distractions in the company of his brother, lady Sif, and the Warriors Three. Together, they form a merry group of friends where honesty is valued regardless of rank, normally leading to witty banter.

“Loki…Loki!” Fandral pokes the prince in question on the shoulder. “Where is your mind, my friend?”

He is not ready to admit it, but the raven-haired man had been lost in the memory of the glow of the Midgardian’s skin as she basked in the sun earlier that day. All through the chores, Loki had found himself unfocused, earning him more than one tumble during sparring as Thor now reveals.

Sif considers the subject of the laughter with a smirk on the lips. “One might think it’s the presence of the lady [Y/N], or am I wrong?”

“I always take an interest in our guests and their well being.” A simple answer meant to hide the flutter in his heart at the mere mention of the foreign woman.

“Does that mean, little brother…” Thor’s heavy arms lands around the shoulder of the sibling, “…that you do not find anything particularly compelling about…that.” With those words, he spins Loki around to face the doors at the far end.

There is no need to search for what (or rather: who) the crown prince refers to, and Loki allows the world around him to fall away with the exception of her. Her. The sweet memory of [Y/N]’s voice as she laughed in the garden grows in power, becoming a summon controlling Loki’s heart and soul. How…when did it come to this? Frigga’s warning is not forgotten, yet…how can she know? The risk of abandoning a love like the one he is feeling, to never live as true and blessed as his existence could be at her side must be far crueler than spending the summer in her sun before facing the winter of his life alone.

Love? No…I should not give in. But then [Y/N] smiles at him and he is lost.

…   Reader PoV   …

Frigga had promised to help you get ready…you had just never in your wildest dream imagined how much that would entail. At least the queen is lovely and intelligent company. Very intelligent. Maybe Asgardians can read minds (or at least they’re intuitive) because it wasn’t not long before she had you spilling the secret you’ve barely dared admit to yourself, the two of you chatting like you had been friends all your lives. It had felt good. Splendid, actually, because home on earth there’s no one for you like that.

And now? At this moment, none of the confidence-inducing cheerfulness is left within you as you set foot in the dining hall, once again reminded of the fact that you’re an alien stranded in a fairy tale full of magic and heroes. Every one of the Asgardians in the room is oozing with majestic grace. They belong. You’re a cheap copy although Frigga has dressed you in the most beautiful dress of gold and blue before fitting you with jewels to match. At the time you had felt like a princess, now you want to hide. Scanning the crowd, you try to find the queen, hoping that she will be occupied by someone, allowing you to slip away – you see Loki instead.

…

Your prince, as you’ve teasingly taken to call Loki in return, has been at your side all night and time has passed in the blink of an eye. Eyes of turquoise green that see into your soul even now as you walk slowly through the moonlit garden to cool down.

I’ll miss him. The thought is unwelcome, tarnishing the joy you’ve experienced at the feast where the princes and Sif have introduced you to their friends, all of them including you in the raucous company as though you were one of them. I wish I was. It’s an impossible dream, made all the more dismal by the sense of belonging you feel around Loki.

“Lady [Y/N],” his voice wavers slightly as he strokes a wetness from your cheek, “do not be saddened…I promise your safe return home.”

But that’s not what I want. “Sorry…d- I…sorry.” Tearing away, you stumble half-blinded by the sudden tears down the first path available but soon find yourself at a dead end among the roses.

How could I be so stupid?! Wiping angrily at your face to stop the blubbering, you try to recall all the good reasons for going back to Earth…there just aren’t any that you wouldn’t be able to replace. No family or friends to speak of anymore. And sure, the work and colleagues are alright but it’s nothing that brings you a sense of home.

“[Y/N]?” It doesn’t scare you that Loki is much closer than anticipated. “It pains my heart to see such sorrow,” he mumbles while folding you in his arms, “I will do anything in my power to…to…”

Words falter and instinct takes over. Holding your close, he tugs your head against his shoulder. Strong fingers stroke your back and head gently while you calm down, and you slowly become aware of the kisses your prince plants of your hair and temple.

“Thank you, Loki.” A soft whisper is all you can muster.

“Always, my love.”

Both of you freeze for a second, unsure if he really has spoken those words, but when you lift your head to meet his gaze there’s no doubt. Nothing needs to be said or explained, the silence allowing a calming warmth to grow inside your chest. You can feel your heart swell. Heal. When his lips meet yours (hesitantly at first) it makes your soul sing.

“Please.” Breaking away briefly, Loki gasps. “Stay with me…or let me come with you! We well find a way.”

There is barely time to answer and you hope the renewed caresses speak for you. “Always.”

[outsideyour-window]

It happened on a beautiful day with my beautiful wife and beautiful children.

My wife is beautiful in a way that’s hard to describe. It’s a God-given kind of beauty, like a waterfall or mountain top. I can’t say what makes her so beautiful, but her face is addicting. I want to climb inside of her and live in her warm darkness.

The only thing that rivals her beauty is my children, Sammy and Sam. We named Sam after me, and Sammy after my wife, Samantha. Every person we pass stops us and says how beautiful we look. Sam, Samantha, Sam and Sammy. A perfect, American family.

Samantha’s parents came from money, so when her mother died, we inherited their house in the Rockies. Our backyard stretched right into a frisbee golf course, which winded down to a quaint downtown. As the frisbee golfers trail by, I like to sit on the back deck, drink my coffee, and listen to the breeze. The air in the Rockies is so clean it feels like your blood is getting filtered every time you inhale.

Sometimes my wife would come out and sit next to me. We liked to talk about our dreams. The money we got when her mother died was enough to live six lifetimes, so we had plans for foundations and charity work. We cared about a lot of things, which was easy when you had the kind of money we had. You’d lose track when you tried to count the zeroes in our savings account.

On the day they disappeared, Samantha, Sam, Sammy, and I were walking along the frisbee golf path through the trees. It was early September. The air was crisp and bright, the mountain tops free of last year’s snow. Sam was telling us about a show he just watched. It was of a family that liked to walk through the woods. It sounded like something I would enjoy.

As he reached the end of the trail, Samantha grabbed my hand and looked up at me. Her eyes were big and blue, just like mine.

“I love you, Sam,” she said, “Thank you for taking care of us. Thank you for loving us. You’re an amazing father, and husband, and person. Thank you so much.”

She leaned forward and kissed me. It was a long, warm kiss. Our kids were giggling, but we didn’t care. I wrapped my hand behind her head and pushed her closer to me. Her chapstick was sweet like watermelon. The air was rich with pine scent.

When I pulled away from her kiss, she had tears in her eyes. They were happy tears, but tears nonetheless. I wiped them away with my thumb.

She started to say something, but I didn’t catch it. She opened her mouth to try again, but no sound came out. I laughed as I wiped another tear from her cheek. They were falling faster now.

“Fish out of water?” I asked.

But, she didn’t smile. She continued to flap her lips. Her eyes looked directly at me, blinking in rhythm with her mouth. Open, close. Open, close.

“Samantha?” I asked.

I looked down at Sam and Sammy to see if they noticed their mother’s weird behavior, but they were mimicking her. They were all looking at me, blinking and breathing in a quick rhythm, like the air was leaving the atmosphere.

I took a step away from them. They’re lips were perfectly synchronized. Open, close. Open, close.

“Please, stop,” I said, taking another step back, “Why are you doing this?”

But, they didn’t stop. They continued, moving faster. They took a step closer to me.

“Stop!” I yelled. I never raised my voice, but this seemed to call for it.

They weren’t the kind to pull pranks, so I didn’t appreciate them doing it now. And, why such a weird prank? Why not put shaving cream on my hand when I was sleeping? That was a classic, American prank. This was just odd.

Then, all of a sudden, they did stop. They closed their mouths and shut their eyes. I breathed a sigh of relief. I made a mental note to address this with all of them at the dinner table that night.

“Can someone explain that weird mouth thing?” I said. But, they didn’t respond. They stood with their arms at their sides, looking more like the trees than my family. They were standing on their tippy toes. I could see their chests rising and falling softly. They were breathing, but just barely, like the air was precious.

I decided to give them a brief lecture on the danger of pranks, but, when I tried to speak, I couldn’t open my mouth. It felt like a branch was climbing through my lips and over my tongue and right into my throat.

I looked behind Samantha, Sam, and Sammy for help, for another family, or hiker, or something. But, I didn’t see that. All I saw was something odd, a light of some kind. It started small at first, then got larger and larger, growing from the size of a fingernail to the face of a mountain. It moved like a crashing wave.

As the light came closer, Samantha and our children began to shake, like a cold wind had crossed them. Their arms were still glued at their sides, but they peered up at me now, their eyes as big dinner plates. They were frozen like that as the light came closer. I should have reached out to them. I should have done something, held them, taken cover, kissed them one last time.

As the light swallowed them, it took me next. Everything was bright and harsh and burning hot.

“Tony?” a voice asked. It was a woman’s voice. It came from somewhere in the light. It was procedural sounding, like a tour guide.

I tried speaking, but it was still too difficult.

“Tony?” she said again, “Can you hear me?”

As I stared into the heat, the light started to change. The blinding brightness took on more color; there were blues and reds and browns. They started in strange shapes, then took on figures I recognized. Faces. Bodies. Bed frames.

I tried to speak again. I managed one word.

“Samantha?” I asked. My voice was deeper and rougher than usual.

“No, Tony,” the voice said, “My name is Doctor Fierno. You’ve been in an accident.”

I kept blinking, and each time, the world of the light became clearer. There were doctors standing around me. Some looked younger, college aged. They were all writing things down.

“Where’s Samantha?” I asked again. For as much as I didn’t understand, I knew I needed to find them. Maybe I had fallen on a hike, or crashed my car on the way to get the groceries. Either way, I needed to let them know I was okay.

Doctor Fierno turned around to one of the other doctors. He was an older man with a big, grey beard.

“Any Samanthas on record?” she asked. The doctor shrugged.

“Samantha,” I repeated, feeling an anger rise in me, “Or Sam, or Sammy. Please. Just let me see them.”

Doctor Fierno smiled at me, as if my family was an inside joke she didn’t understand. She turned around and faced the group of young doctors.

“Tony DeLaurente. 45 years of age. Head trauma sustained during a drunk driving accident. Patient was coming back from a bar when he hit and killed a family of four on Highway 45.”

I didn’t understand what she was saying. This was no time for stories. I tried to stand up to get her attention, but when I did, I snapped back onto the bed. I was handcuffed to the bed frame.

Doctor Fierno didn’t even turn around.

“He’s been in a comatose state for 3 weeks,” she continued, “Patients have a range of reactions, some of them include anger. Normally there is a next of kin to keep them calm, but his closest relative is an estranged brother in Iowa.”

Doctor Fierno looked at the door. There were two men dressed in suits with police badges on their lapels.

“We should let the detectives have the room,” she said to the other doctors.

As the doctors left and the detectives came over to the side of the bed, I closed my eyes. They started talking to “Tony”, but I ignored them.

I closed my eyes and prayed this dream would end so I could wake up in my life. Samantha needed me. Sam and Sammy needed their father. I had no memory of, or interest in, the life of Tony.

But, no matter how hard I closed my eyes, I could still hear the detectives’ voices. I didn’t answer their questions. I was only thinking about one thing. My family was lost and I needed to find them.

[roots-game]

What is the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to the ROs, Ami and Kai?

1.

A very long time ago, a young kitsune in the guise of a woman approached a traveler, long weary from the road.

“Good evening,” The woman said in purple robes slinking down from the tree she had been lounging on, “You seem tired good sir, as most travelers who come here do. What brings you to these crossroads? Perhaps I can assist you.”

The wanderer greeted the girl, wiping the sweat off his brow with his palm, “I have been traveling for many miles now young miss. The road has been most unkind to my old skin and bones, and yet here you stand as fresh as the dew on the morning blossoms. How can this be this deep in the woods? There must be a place to rest nearby, no?”

“Yes,” the girl smiled through teeth and red lips, “Yes. I do. I know a place. A temple not far. A place to rest. Come,” She beckoned with a finger, “Come follow me.”

The man, eager for sleep and shelter did not question. He simply straightened the cloth pack on his back with care, for his most treasured companion rested inside. A small pup he had come across on the way.

Deeper and deeper off the path and into the woods the pair went wordlessly. Until the cracking of a branch under the man’s feet roused the pup from its slumber. The young thing squirmed and tumbled out of the cloth sack onto the damp dirt below.

The old man tried to scoop the pup back into his arms but the young thing would not stand for it. Its hair stood on end. It’s eyes fearful and it’s voice shrill as it howled and barked at the woman.

“My apologies,” The man said embarrassed, but when he looked up the woman was gone. He could only see the sleek shape of a fox as it slunk into shadows and out of his sight.

The traveler swore to anyone who would listen that the fox had five tails.

2.

The grocery store was only a couple blocks away so Isaac had opted to walk. He was in the Foodland parking lot, almost to the front sliding door, when someone brushed against his side. 

“Oh man,” she said, clasping her hands together, “Hey are you okay?” Her accent and the cadence of her voice told Isaac that she was from the island. She was a pretty girl around his age, with a bronze complexion and long wavy black hair tied up with a yellow scrunchie. A reusable shopping bag was looped around her shoulder, filled to the brim with pork.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Don’t worry,” He nodded at her and gave her a weak smile. He could feel his shoulder tense; he was awful at small talk. The girl’s eyes widened just a smidge, “Oh. I thought you were local for a moment. Your accent.” 

“Nah,” Isaac said inwardly pleased, “From the mainland. Arizona. I just got here a couple of hours ago. Wanted to… see the mountains. Do some hiking.”

“My name’s Anela,” She smiled at him in an easy way that made him relax, “And we should really not stand in the middle of the doorway, huh?” They laughed and stepped inside into the cool air-conditioned lobby of Foodland. Isaac introduced himself to her then and noticed her bag was filled with pork. Ground pork. Pork Chops. Bacon. Every pork product he could think of, she had in her bag. 

“Having a barbeque or something?”

“Hm?” She said following his eyes, “Oh. Ah. No.” She sounded embarrassed, “My mom. She wanted ah- hm.” She pursed her lips, “Say Isaac, how familiar are you with Pali Lookout? And more importantly, do you have a car?”

That’s how Isaac found himself driving down Old Pali Highway around midnight. The girl from Foodland, Anela, sat next to him on the passenger side. Her stash of pork from before now cooked with rice and greens and prepped into Tupperware containers.“I’m getting the creeps out here,” Isaac said turning down the radio station they had been listening to.

“Just a little midnight picnic.” Anela said with a small smile, “Don’t tell me you’re chickening out now. Didn’t you mention you wanted to see the mountains? That’s why you came here right?” Isaac flushed a little, feeling like he was caught in a lie. “Yeah. That’s why I came here.”

“You’ll see,” She nodded and pointed up towards the mountains, “The view is amazing at night.” “Yeah?” He said with a small guilty smile, “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”  Just as they saw a sign for the lookout, the car shuddered to a halt. Isaac cursed and guided the rental to the side of the road. He tried restarting the car, but it stalled every time. 

“What do we do?” He looked at Anela, “I don’t have money to get this car fixed. It’s not even mine.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. These things happen sometimes,” Anela said placing a hand on his shoulder apologetically, “Just stay in the car. I’ll be right back. The car will start soon I promise. Just calm down.”

She bent down scooping the bag with their dinner. She was about to open the car door when Isaac pointed down the road. An old lady in a white flowing dress and her white dog were walking in the night coming towards them. Anela slumped back into her seat and rubbed tiny circles into her temples.“Oh boy,” she sighed.

“What? Maybe she can help us out.” 

“That’s my uh- Auntie.” 

“What?”

“Yeah.”

The old lady was now right by Isaac’s window, her dog panting by her feet. “How dare you kids come here.” She was livid. Isaac squinted, the woman’s eyes glowed red through the dark with her rage. She looked at Isaac and then Anela. A flash of recognition dimming the anger in her eyes, if only for a moment.

“Anela?��

“Hi, Auntie.”

“Are you dumb Anela? Gimme that bag.”

Anela handed the bag of pork platters to her aunt. The old woman tossed it on the side of the road in disgust, her dog eagerly chasing after it.

“Who’s this hapa haole boy? Why’d you take him up? It’s dangerous up here by the cliffs. You wanna get this dumb boy dead?” 

“No, auntie. We just wanted to see the mountains.”

“You wanted to see the mountains?” The old woman howled with laughter, “Don’t make me laugh, honey girl. The both of you ain’t here to look at no mountains.”

The young girl blushed and looked away.

3.

The young god leans against the concrete ledge of the overpass scanning the people who walk below him with a focused eye. Hawkish, despite his troublemaking smile.

Yet….. no matter how hard he tries. Has tried. And will try again, trouble never finds him. Still, he paws at the concrete crumbs between the sidewalk gaps, rolling the little false stones in his palm like a set of dice. Peering down he chooses his mark, and flings the little bits of ground downward. 

A man looks up squinting, searching for the stone that scatter of his shoulders, but is left wanting. He keeps walking. Same story over and over, but still the forgotten god tries. 

Another.

This one walks in all leather. She seems different somehow. Perhaps this one? He readies the pebble, flicks it over the edge. Right in the face. He watches.

Eyes flutter and look upwards.

“You,” She says pointing up at him, acknowledging him? Acknowledging him, “Come down here right now.”

He scrambles behind the concrete, hiding himself, grinning still.

It’s what he always wanted, to be found. But how to make an introduction? He hasn’t had many of those, but he figured it can’t be hard? Right?

He pops up, eager, to be talked to. To be spoken with. To be friends with. 

It’s unfortunate, when he ends up tumbling down the stairs.

[lickrustdavid]

Apple Juice and Graham Crackers

Rated: T for Language  Word Count: 4.6k  Warnings: Injury, Light Medical Talk, Mentions of Nausea and Vomiting (AO3)

It’s about half way down, a mile left, that everything goes to hell in a hand basket. Patrick doesn’t see the root this time, arched up from the ground, and he trips. Instinctively, he throws his arms out to catch himself, but the angle is wrong and it happens too fast for him to fix it. He hears a faint scream- Alexis. She tells him later it was his own. 

Hiking is something that Patrick loves, he’s done it for years, and while he enjoys the outdoors and the exercise, his fiancé doesn’t. It doesn’t bother him, he understands that it’s not for everyone, and David had definitely proved that on their hike to the proposal. They’ve started closing the apothecary early on Tuesday, the least busy day of the week. Of course Patrick talked to a few customers, getting a feel for how people would react to the store being closed, which had been surprisingly well received. 

It’s nice having a day that they’re not rushed to get out of bed and are able to wake up slowly, have some intimate time together. The other upside is that Patrick gets to hike. It’s a way of exercise and somewhat of a recalibration for him, leaving for a couple of hours or so, allowing David to see Stevie or his family alone. David’s made sure to be clear that he’s happy to skip the hikes, assuring Patrick he wasn’t feeling left out, and that he’d rather spend the few hours working on organizing his closet or doing extra skin care and eating pizza. 

The past month though, it’s been different. Instead of hiking alone, Alexis has been accompanying him, and while at first he was unsure but still gladly willing to give it a chance, now he enjoys her company and he likes getting to build a relationship with another Rose. They’re closer in age than he and David, only by a year, but they both like to remind him, making jokes about being an old man. 

This particular Tuesday, the sun is shining and it’s a nice sixty five degree day, the middle of September cooling down from the heat of summer. He and David both wake up around the same time, spending some time kissing and cuddling, savoring the time they get to spend together like this. After finishing the morning with blow jobs, they lay back against the bed, both smiling. 

“That was….wow,” David breathes out, laughing a little. Patrick knows how he feels and he can’t help but lean back over, fingertips skimming the man’s skin again, pressing warm, slow kisses to his mouth, traveling down his jaw and then to his neck. “Mm, babe, we need to get up,” he reminds, but it’s breathy and high as he squirms a little. 

“You’re right,” Patrick mumbles, finally pulling back after a few more kisses. “You have that thing with Stevie right? It’s further away than Elmdale?” He tries to remember, getting up and stretching, just his boxer briefs on. David allows himself to admire the view before getting up too, feeling a little grumpy for having to stop their morning. 

“Mhm, it’s some…” David waves his hand, trying to remember. “Some place like an hour and a half away, I don’t really remember. It’s for the motel though, so ugh. Now I’m regretting saying yes.” 

Patrick laughs, shaking his head. “You’ll have fun. You know you will, you’ll get food and you’ll gossip and be judgemental at whatever you’ll be doing,” he teases, pressing another quick kiss to his fiance’s lips before moving to change. David huffs but doesn’t say anything else as he goes to start his skincare routine. Patrick leaves sooner than David, giving him a quick kiss on the lips despite David’s noise of protest, in the middle of washing his face. “It’s not going to mess up your face David, it’s a kiss,” he laughs, kissing him one more time before leaving to go pick up Alexis. 

While they drive, Alexis puts on some music from her phone, mostly songs Patrick doesn’t know, but he does get to belt Umbrella by Rihanna. Alexis records it and sends it to David, earning a reply of ‘I’m not sure if I’m scared or turned on’. They get to the mountain, both happy for some fresh air. It sometimes catches Patrick off guard, how different Alexis is to what he’d assumed she’d be like. He would have never guessed she liked hiking, but here they are, about to do a two mile hike. They walk at a good pace, definitely not leisurely strolling as they start their ascend. 

“So like….is David a screamer?” Alexis asks curiously, glancing over at her soon to be brother-in-law, a sly grin appearing. It takes Patrick a minute to realize what she’s even asking and he blushes, mouth hanging open a little, trying to decide how to respond. “I mean, it’s not that embarrassing, I’m don’t want like...every detail of your sex life, because, ew. But I’ve always wanted to know.” 

“I...uhm….” He debates on what to say. He knows David would be weirded out with his sister knowing, but it’s not like he hasn’t made it known to others. “Promise you won’t tell?” Patrick blushes a little and Alexis’s smile widens. 

“That’s all the info I need,” she laughs, but then shakes her head. “I’m not going to tell my brother I know he screams when he has sex Patrick, I’m not that gross,” she wrinkles her nose, ponytail swishing back and forth “Besides, this is our time. Nothing gets said to anyone,” she shrugs as if it’s obvious. It’s oddly sweet. 

He mutters a ‘ridiculous’ under his breath, but he’s only amused, no heat behind the word. “How are things with your business? Anything new since last week?” Patrick asks, stepping around a root that’s sticking out of the ground. 

“I think I’m going to start working on a social media thing for a bar in Elmdale, they want to talk to me on Friday,” she smiles, looking excited. “I mean, they’re pretty popular, so it’ll be a bigger thing than most of the stuff I’ve done...well, if you exclude my moms stuff,” Alexis explains. Patrick gives her a high five. 

“That’s awesome!! You’ll have to let us know how it goes. And no matter what we’ll take you out for drinks,” he decides, knowing they can invite Stevie too. If it all goes well, he’ll ask Mr. and Mrs. Rose too. “They’d be crazy not to hire you, you’re amazing.” 

The hike continues and when they reach the top, they sit down on one of the benches to catch their breath. Alexis drinks some water and Patrick grabs a cliff bar from his bag, munching on it while looking at the scenery, even though they’ve admired it for almost two months straight. Eventually they start making their way down, passing only a couple other people, smiling to acknowledge them. Both walk past the small waterfall, happy to let the misty air cool them off a moment. It’s about half way down, a mile left, that everything goes to hell in a hand basket. Patrick doesn’t see the root this time, arched up from the ground, and he trips. Instinctively, he throws his arms out to catch himself, but the angle is wrong and it happens too fast for him to fix it. He hears a faint scream- Alexis. She tells him later it was own. 

Alexis lets out a gasp and he hears an ‘oh my god, Patrick!’ but the only thing his brain can focus on is the sudden and intense pain that blooms from his wrist into his fingers and up his arm. “Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck….” he whines out, still on the ground. Alexis crouches down next to him, watching as he cradles his wrist to his chest, already swelling. He turns away from her, hazy but still aware of what’s about to happen and he can’t help the gag that rises from his throat, half digested cliff bar coming up. 

“Okay uhm….” Alexis’s voice is panicked and shrill and he wants to comfort her but everything is muddled under the excruciating pain. He feels a hand on his back as he wipes his mouth on his right shoulder. “Let’s get to the car..” she says quickly, helping him up. Patrick stumbles a little as Alexis helps him up, directing a frown in his direction. He’s ashen-faced and nauseous, dizzy from the pain. “Do...do you think it’s broken?” 

Nodding, Patrick squeezes his eyes shut tightly as another intense wave of pain rolls through his hand. “Definitely broken. Broke the same w-wrist in high school,” he clenches his jaw and continues walking down as quickly as his body will let him. They pass another person and earn a worried look but Alexis completely ignores them, focused solely on getting him to the ER. It takes almost twelve more minutes of walking before they see his car and he fumbles with his right hand, trying to get his keys out of his pocket. 

“I’m driving,” Alexis says before he can ask her, taking the keys and opening and shutting the passenger door for him before getting in too. “Okay, the uh...the closest ER is Elmdale, so it’s probably like...thirty minutes from here….” she calculates as she pulls out and onto the road. Her whole body is shaking and her eyes are wide as she merges into the highway a moment later. 

Holding his arm to his chest, not daring to actually touch his wrist, he turns his head to her. “I’ll be okay...I’m not dying,” Patrick promises, even if it feels like he is. The car hits a pothole and David sucks in a breath, a noise escaping his lips somewhere between a moan and a strangled cry, wrist bouncing against his chest. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” she grimaces, almost going to rub his arm but stops when she realizes that would only make it worse. The ride feels like it takes two hours, but it only takes twenty five minutes, Alexis not caring if she was going 70 in a 50 zone. Patrick’s gone deathly still and quiet, looking like someone who should be in a casket with how pale his is. It feels like his heartbeat is in his hand, throbbing every other second. He thinks this is worse than in high school, when Matt Collins shoved him onto the ice during hockey practice for not letting him score the most goals in their previous game, effectively breaking his wrist. He’d sat out six games because of him. 

Alexis parks quickly right at the entrance of the ER, double glass doors opening at the motion. “Go in and I’ll be right there okay? I just need to park and I’ll be right there,” she promises. He almost tells her he can walk from where she parks, but then nausea swells in his stomach again so he gives her a tight lipped nod and gets out. 

Getting to the front desk, the woman looks at him and instantly frowns. “I b-broke my wrist...uhm..” He feels nauseous again from walking and standing and talking. His color must change because suddenly she’s telling him to hold on and offering a smile, coming back a second later with a pale pink deep pan, handing it to him. Suddenly Alexis is at his side, arm on his right shoulder, looking at the nurse. 

“Yeah, hi, uhm, he needs to see a doctor, like, now. His wrist is broken, and if they don’t fix it it can get messed up,” she explains to the nurse who looks at Patrick and then Alexis. 

“Right..are you his wife?” She asks, making Alexis wrinkle her nose and frown. 

“What? No, no, he’s my brother’s fiance, we were hiking,” Alexis looks distinctly annoyed that the woman isn’t taking him back. Patrick fumbles for his wallet, knowing everything that they need before he can even get in rotation. Pain shoots through his arm again as he jostles it. 

“I h-have my insurance card,” he grits out, handing the woman the card and his license. She takes it and makes a copy, handing them the papers they need to fill out. “Alexis, can you grab that? I really need to sit down,” his voice is a little desperate and she nods, taking his cards back. 

“Fill that out, bring it back up. We’ll get you in as quickly as we can. We only have one other person here for an injury, and if it’s any consolation, after seeing your wrist I’m going to let them know you need to get it looked at pronto.” The nurse smiles, making both of them feel a little better about it all. 

“Thank you,” Alexis directs at her while herding Patrick into the waiting room, making sure to sit as far away from everyone else as possible. “Okay, here, I can fill it out for you,” she assures as they both drop into chairs. It takes the better part of twenty minutes for her to write down everything he says, his voice quiet and pinched. He thinks to look down at his wrist and oh. Okay. Now he understands. His wrist is bruised purple and green already, swollen completely. Patrick sees it’s not only his hand though, his pinky is swollen almost as badly as his wrist, bruised as well. 

Alexis hurries back to the nurse with the paper and then sits back down next to him, looking anxious. “You’re really brave. I would have been sobbing,” she smiles at him, booping his nose. Patrick can’t help but smile back, feeling suddenly exhausted. The pain is still reverberating in his arm, aching mixed in with a sharp stinging sensation. She picks up her phone, which makes Patrick shake his head. 

“Please don’t tell David yet. I...he doesn’t need to worry. I’m okay. I’ll call him after I get it wrapped up.” His voice lets on how much pain he’s in, how stressed and miserable he is, so Alexis nods and they sit there waiting. 

“Patrick Brewer?” Patrick looks up, seeing a woman in dark blue scrubs with a chart at the door. He stands, feeling shaky, and then looks at Alexis. 

“I’ll stay out here, no problem,” she says. 

“I….would you mind...coming with me?” 

Alexis’s face changes from cool to absolutely fond, lip jutting out. “Aw button, sure,” she stands too, following him back into triage. Sitting on the gurney, feeling hazy from the pain that’s not let up for over an hour, Patrick leans back, eyes shutting. He goes through the questions she asks, answering them all with a clenched jaw, breath shallow. 

“Is there....can he please have like...something for the pain?” Alexis asks while it’s quiet, just the sound of the woman typing on the keyboard. 

“Unfortunately we can’t give anything till the doctor sees him. It should be pretty soon though, I just need to put his info in and then we’re going to take him for an x-ray.” She assures. “Your husband will be just fine.” 

“Oh we’re not together,” Alexis shakes her head. 

Patrick’s taken down for an x-ray and Alexis is moved to a room a few doors down, left to bite at her thumbnail and worry about how badly Patrick’s hurt himself. 

When he’s brought into the new room, Patrick feels close to throwing up again. The nurses had been gentle, but they’d still had to reposition his wrist a few times to get his bones at all angles. He really just wants to sleep. Sitting down on the gurney, he thanks the nurse as she lets them know the doctor will be in soon. 

“I’m sorry….for making you do all this,” Patrick’s voice is hoarse, and his eyes open to find hers, giving her a grimace of a smile. He’s not sure how he’s going to make it up to her, but he will. Alexis looks at him like he’s crazy, shaking her head. She looks younger than she is, sitting in the black plastic chair. 

“What was I going to do, leave you there? You’re basically my brother Patrick. I’ve...I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared in my life. I mean...I have, but...recently. Like..seeing you on the ground screaming and freaking the fuck out?” She shudders a little, nose wrinkling at the memory. “Honestly I just wish I could have done more. But you’re here now and you’re going to get it fixed. And I’m going to be the first one to sign your cast,” Alexis grins, diffusing the slight anxious worry that had built up. 

“Tha-” They’re interrupted by a knock at the door. A petite woman with long brown hair walks in, holding black pictures in her hand. 

“You must be Patrick Brewer, nice to meet you,” she says and her voice is comforting, like she was born to be a doctor. “I’m Dr. Meyers. You must be his wife,” she turns to Alexis who shakes her head for the third time that day.

“No, he’s my brother's fiance, but we get that alot,” she smiles, looking at Patrick and rolling her eyes fondly. 

“Oh! Well nice to meet you Alexis. So,” Dr. Meyers walks up to the small lightbox on the wall and puts the first x-ray up, turning it on. The photo shows Patrick’s hand with an obvious white line out of place. Patrick winces, still leaning back, afraid if he moves again he’ll throw up. 

“This is what we call a distal radius fracture. It looks like you’ve had one before, from the scarring I see?” She asks, making Patrick nod. 

“I played hockey in high school,” he explains, making her laugh. 

“That’ll do it. It doesn’t seem to be a bad enough move for you to need surgery, but we’ll definitely be setting it and putting you in a cast. We also…” she switches the x-ray photo to the other one, a closer photo of his fingers. “..will be doing your pinky as well, as it’s a pretty clean break too.” 

Patrick’s face goes blank, making Alexis frown. He doesn’t say anything, so she takes it upon herself. 

“Yeah, uhm. When you say set...like..putting it in a cast?” 

“Unfortunately, with breaks like these, it’s easiest to move the bone back where it needs to be, and then cast it up, so it can regrow and heal.” 

Patrick almost wishes he could take a photo of her face, if it wasn’t such a serious issue and he didn’t feel like crying from all the pain he’s in. 

“But like...he’ll be asleep for it,” Alexis’s mouth is drawn into a line. 

“It’s fine Alexis, I know what’s going to happen,” Patrick jumps in, giving her a reassuring grimace, once again nauseous. He knows how this goes. He’ll be awake, he’ll get a numbing agent, and then he’ll endure the most unpleasurable minute of his life, he’ll probably pass out like he did in high school, get re-x rayed and then he’ll be put in a cast. 

Alexis is still frowning when he looks at her, but she nods and looks back at Dr. Myers. “Can he have medicine now? The nurse said he could once he saw you,” she worries at a piece of hair, fingers playing with it as she asks. 

“Of course, I’ll get the nurse to bring some in, and then we’ll be in to start.” 

“Thank you,” he says to Alexis, wondering if somehow she’s his guardian angel or something. 

By the time he’s had his hydrocodone tablet and the shot to numb his bone,  they work on setting his wrist and finger. Alexis has to look away, and Patrick doesn’t blame her. Though it’s not extremely painful, the sensation of it, the noise and the odd tugging, makes his stomach drop, makes sweat accumulate on his upper lip and forehead. He tries to push through it, but there’s an unsettling noise and then he’s blissfully unaware of everything. 

Patrick blinks his eyes, feeling like he’s underwater. Moving his eyes, he sees Alexis and a nurse looking at him, Dr . Meyers by his side with apple juice and graham crackers. “Patrick, how are you feeling?” She asks. He wants to say ‘like shit’ but decides better of it. 

“Uhm...weird. I passed out,” he says knowingly, to which the woman nods. 

“Yes, but we managed to get it done while you were out. We’ll be putting a cast on as soon as you have some of this to get your blood sugar up,” she explains. She raises the gurney’s back up so he doesn’t have to move positions, and then Alexis is flouncing over, holding the juice for him while he eats the cracker with his right hand. “Do you have a color preference?” 

Little pieces of different colored fiberglass wrap are hanging from a string, allowing him to see all the choices. He would choose white, but that would get gross, so instead he chooses the dark blue. Alexis snorts, smiling when he looks at her. “At least it’ll go with your clothes,” she teases. 

Finishing up the juice and crackers, he starts feeling a little less miserable and gross from passing out. He’s out of it from the meds, but he’s not in pain, so really it’s a win. They put the stocking net on his arm, hand and pinky fingers, wrapping it in blue casting tape, then adding another layer of wet tape. After rubbing it smoothe, Dr. Meyers smiles at him gently. “We’ll get your papers that explain how to take care of it, even though I’m sure you remember the basics. You’re welcome to go to any urgent care or come back here in 8 weeks, just bring these papers back so we know it’s time.” 

As they wait, Patrick looks at Alexis, who smiles. “I’m sure David will love it,” she teases, making him smile tiredly. “Oooh, hold on,” she grabs her phone where she’s been scrolling on instagram, switching it to her camera. “I wanna take a photo of you.” 

Patrick tries to give a thumbs up with his casted hand, but because of his pinky, it looks more like he’s saying ‘hang ten dudes’. His face is bleary from exhaustion, adrenaline crash and hydrocodone, but he’s got a lopsided smile on his face. The doctor walks in a minute later, handing him the discharge papers. “Alright Mr.Brewer, you are free and ready to leave. I’m giving you a prescription for a couple of pain tablets to get you through the first couple of days if needed, then you can switch over to tylenol every 8 hours,” she explains. 

They leave around four, making it back to Schitt’s Creek at almost five. Patrick’s asleep in the passenger side, but Alexis wakes him up when they get into town. “Alexis, can we get lasagna?” He loves lasagna and it sounds so good. 

“Yeah, we can get lasagna. How about I go into the cafe and get it, and you stay out here and rest okay? Then we can get you in bed to eat it,” she suggests. 

The photo of Patrick at the hospital gets sent to David by Alexis once Patrick’s in bed. He’s changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, thankfully able to do it by himself, propped up with pillows as he devours his portion of the lasagna. Quickly after sending the first photo, Alexis snaps another photo of David, sending it as well. 

Patrick’s phone is on his nightstand when it starts ringing not twenty seconds after the photos say delivered. He fumbles for it, accidentally knocking it on the floor. “Fuck.” Alexis looks at him like a wounded puppy, laughing as she grabs it for him and he unlocks it. “Hello?” 

“Oh my god, Patrick. Oh my- are you okay?! What happened?” David’s voice is loud and shrill in his ears. 

“I...I fell, broke my wrist and finger. Alexis took me to the ER. I’m okay now. She got me lasagna too, she’s the best David. I’m so glad I’m going to be her brother,” Patrick feels like he has no filter as he talks, but can’t be bothered. Alexis plucks the phone out of his hand. 

“He’s kind of high on hydrocodone right now,” she explains to her brother. 

“What the fuck does he mean he broke his wrist and finger?! What happened?!” David demands, telling Stevie to drive faster. 

“He tripped on the way back down the mountain and tried to catch himself. God David it was so fucking terrifying. One second we were talking and the next he was on the ground yelling and freaking out and like oh my god his wrist looked so gross. I had to help him get to the car because we were like a mile away, and then I took him to the ER,” Alexis says almost all in one breath. 

“And...and he’s okay? You were with him?” David’s voice is suddenly quiet and Alexis frowns.

“He’s okay, I promise David. He’s...tired and high on pain meds, but he’s fine. And yeah, of course I was there. I was there when they had to fucking reset his bones which was so gross I like almost stepped out of the room. He passed out but they gave him juice and crackers. He’s home now, so please come see your little button, he misses you.” 

“He passed out?!”

Alexis winces at the sheer pitch of his brother's voice. “Yes David, please try to keep up. He’s fine now,” she sighs, finally getting tired from the day's adventure.

“Okay, my fiance just broke his wrist, you don’t get to be mean!” 

“I was literally there with him and spent three hours in an ER David, I took care of him. Don’t be such an asshole!” 

David gets quiet for a second, and Patrick chooses that moment to yell ‘I love you David’ across to the phone. 

“I’ll see you soon, tell him I love him,” David’s voice shakes a little. 

Thirty minutes later, Patrick and Alexis are watching Pirates of the Caribbean on the laptop, both watching solely for Will Turner. They’re almost to the part where Elizabeth requests parlay, when David walks in, looking frantic and wide eyed. They both look up from the bed, Alexis propped up on David’s pillows, the laptop in between them. 

“Patrick,” David moves quickly, tense shoulders relaxing, getting to see for himself that Patrick isn’t in any worse shape. The man in question looks up and smiles, sitting a little taller. “Oh my god, how are you feeling honey?” 

“Good. Kinda floaty. They gave me good medicine,” he smiles. His eyes close, tired from everything, relaxing now that David’s here.

David presses a kiss to Patrick’s lips and then raises his head to look at Alexis. 

“Thank you….for today. I know I don’t say it,” David takes a breath, tears pricking at his eyes. “But I love you. And...you helped practically save my fiance today. I owe you like...ten selfish days okay? And thank you for getting him lasagna,” he adds, kissing Patrick’s head.

“...I love you too David. Thank you. And yeah, you definitely owe me at least ten. I had to rub his back while he puked from pain. Ew. But...I wouldn’t have done anything different. And how could I not get him lasagna?! He was looking at me with his cute button face!” 

She gets up gently in case Patrick’s asleep, then hugs David tightly. “Also every nurse and doctor thought we were married, which was weird. Like….he’s cute but no.” 

“Okay, I seem to recall you trying to flirt with him when we first met him,” David’s eyes narrow and she laughs. 

“He’s literally my brother David, stop,” she gives him a disgusted look. “Oh, also,” she moves towards the door, grabbing her bag. “I stole your Stella McCartney sweater because you totally owe me,” Alexis grins and then bolts out the door. “Byee!!”

[a-really-bi-girl]

Edelweiss- Chapter 1

 The route to Tirol

Chapter 1 - The route to Tirol

Not long ago you laughed, heck you smiled like all the damn time. But now you couldn’t even think of the thought of smiling. Or the pain in your cheeks that was caused by laughing too hard with your friends. The only pain you felt right now was the pain in your head, heart and stomach.

Your head was trying to process everything that was happening. But now you’re were an emotional mess. You were Scared. Confused. Insecure. Upset. Anxious. Wobbly. You felt your heartbeat and the send out of pulses in your brain and it hurts. Every time a pulse was sent out and every time your heartbeat it got worse and worse.

In your heart, you felt the pain of guilt. Your eyes fell on the ground in front of you and all you saw were scattered bodies of people laying on the floor. Some people were unconscious and some were severely injured. And some have passed away, way before there time. It hurts so much to know that your heart is still beating and there’s are not. You should have been the one who died, not them. The pain of guilt felt to you like you have been stabbed and you knew how that felt.

Because there was a 14-inch-long sword thrust inside the left side of your stomach. Your vision went out of focus and your head became heavy. You exhaled your breath as you fell on your knees. As fell your knees hit the grass, your hands wrapped itself around the blade. To your surprise, there wasn’t that much blood, but that quickly changed when you felt a hand on your right shoulder.

The hand dug her nails through your shirt into your skin as his other hand appeared. She said something to you in a language that you didn’t understand as her free hand wrapped itself around the handle of the sword. When you found the courage and the energy to look up your eyes locked with the woman. She wore a mask and she smiled. Your eyes were heavy and it was hard to keep them open. Your vision was blurry and your eyes were wet from your tears.

The woman wrapped her hand around your neck and squeezed. It became hard to breathe and It caused your body to squirm. Your hands flew up to her forearm and hand as you desperately tried to remove her hand from your neck. The woman smiled again and with a smooth motion, she pulled her sword out of your torso. Her action made you gasp for air, which you couldn’t inhale because of her hand.

She tightened her grip around your neck as you held her forearm with your bloody hands. She lowered her head and whispered into your ear. The way she spoke languish gave you the chills, which made you squirm again. Then she let go of your neck and you gasped for air.

Almost all your energy has left your body at this point and you fell towards the ground. Your head hit the ground hard and you tried to suppress the tears you wanted to let out. Your hands applied pressure to the wound the woman left. The woman looked at you as she cleaned her sword. You blinked and she was gone once you opened your eyes again.

Instead, there were two-men where she first stood. The men walked over to your body and you tried to crawl away. The men laughed at each other and they grabbed your legs and your arms. This made you yell in pain, your wound started bleeding out again and you felt your body growing weaker.

The men lifted you off the ground and they dragged/carried you towards the alter. You struggled in their grip as you saw people placing the bodies of the deceased around the alter. You couldn’t breathe when they the cut their throats pour their blood in the notch around the alter.

The ones who are on the edge of dying were killed in front of you and you cried out for help. The man who carried you to the altar chained you to the ground as you struggled and screamed.

‘So, this is it. This is the moment I die’ you taught to yourself.

11 days ago, America, Arizona.

The warm summer sun was setting in Arizona. And two men were walking away from a burning building towards a parked yellow cab.

The brunette of the duo was dressed in blue denim jeans, a dark green bomber jacket, a white shirt and muddy timberlands. He was the tallest of the two.

And the blonde, he looked like he stepped out of a detective movie. He wore a white button-up shirt with a loosely hanging red tie around his neck. The sleeves were pushed up and he carried a tan trench coat in his hand. His pants were black just like his shoes.

“Why does everything always have to end up in flames with you?” does brunette asked the blonde as he opens the door.

The blonde laughs at him as he enters the car. “not always Chas. Your house is still standing, isn’t it” The blonde points out while lighting a cigarette.

Chas rolled his eyes as starts the engine of the car. “Where to next John?” he asked his friend.” It would be perfect if you could drop me off at the millhouse, I could use a good kip” John answered as he opened the window.

“Alright, but I have to fill the tank first,” Chas said as he entered the highway. At the same moment the duo entered the highway four Police cars exited, heading towards the fire.

The men drove in silence while John smoked his cigarette. After awhile Chas pulled over towards a gas station to refile his tank. “Can I bring you anything?”

“Just a new pack of silver cuts, owh and make it a big one,” John said while handing Chas a twenty.

Chas took the twenty and walked towards the store after he filled the tank. John threw his head back against the chair and he let out a sight. His mind dwelled back to the scene he and Chas just experienced.

The warehouse they just blew up was owned by Rangda, an evil demon queen in Balinese mythology. A disgusting child-eating bitch. She was pretending to be a school teacher so she had many victims to choose from.

When John sensed her presence in the town he quickly tracked her down. He and Chas saved the trapped kids and afterwards turned John his attention to Rangda.

“Your child-eating days here on earth are over, Let's get you back to were you belong shall we” John spoke while getting in position to send the nasty bitch back to where she came from.

Rangda protested and screamed as John sent her through a portal. It wasn’t easy, but luckily she wasn’t at her full strength otherwise it would have harder to send her to hell.

Hell

The place where John is doomed to end up.

The place where the tribunal will be waiting for him, so they can finish what they started.

The place where Astra ended up after he tried to save her back in Newcastle.

The place where he sent Dez too.

When he saved the man he loved, he didn’t get him back. Dez left as soon as he could.

And in John’s eyes, it was yet another sign that he was not worthy of love, friendship or thrust.

Everyone he ever loved or even people who came to close to him ended up dead, hurt or never wanting to see him again. He only has Chas.

Chas entered the car again with a newspaper and John’s cigarettes. “When we get to the Millhouse I need you to pack a bag. I will pick you up around 4am.”

“Why?”

“We are going to Austria,” Chas said while he threw the newspaper and John’s phone at him.

-----The Daily Planet------

Multiple Families are missing in the Tirol area, Austria

Multiple Families are missing in the Tirol.Area. In the summer is Tirol a popular place to hike and to wander in the nearby mountains. In the winter it’s a popular skiing spot. But now it’s the place were multiple Families are disappearing. Multiple police forces are arriving and working together to find out what is going on in this area. There is further given information about what could be going on.

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

“Your Phone rang, the Austria police force needs your help. They told me that they were given your phone number by Sara Lance. She said that they had to call you if something freaky is happening.” Chas told his best friend as he entered the highway again.

“Freaky ey?” John said while throwing the newspaper on the backseat. ‘Sara has to stop with handing out my number' John thinks to himself.

The rest of the car ride was silent. John was thinking about what possibly could have happened while Chas drove. When they arrived at the millhouse John opened his mouth “Meet me around three, we need to do some research before we leave.” He said whilst exiting the car. Chas nodded and drove away.

"Let's get to the bottom of this" John said while lighting a cigarette as he entered the millhouse. Ready to pack for this next mission.

MEANWHILE IN AUSTRIA

The overflowing car of the Jones family was driving up the small mountain roads. The car was packed with people. Jane and Carlos were discussing in the front about how we had to get towards the hotel. “Carlos just listen to me, if we follow this road we will be there in 30 minutes” Jane spoke while pointing at a route on the map. “Alright, what you want” he said while changing the course.

“Mom it there a pool!?” “Dad is there a playground!?” asked the twins at the same time. They start laughing and kept asking there parents questions about the hotel. Tara and Tim were your best friends younger siblings. They were eight years old, the same age you met Alex.

You and Alex were all the way in the back of the car. Both doing your own thing. You listening to some old music while he is busy texting his ex. His relationship with his ex Jeffrey was complicated, but over. But Jeffrey wouldn’t let him go so easy.

“u okay?” you asked while tapping him on the shoulder. He replied with a thumbs up. “We are going to have an amazing week,” You say smiling trying to make him laugh. And that he did. “Heck yeah, I already found an après ski fest,” he said smiling as he showed you the poster of the party. “Nice, but we’re going in Tiroler clothing!” you say laughing. “Aber natürlich Gretel”

“du bist die Hänsel to my Gretel” I replied laughing and Alex joined me.

“Mom we also want to go to that party,” said Tara and Jane replied. “No one is going anywhere without out approval”

“Mom you promised !” Alex said while looking at her. “Alex people are disappearing, I don’t want that to happen to you,” Jane said sweetly.

“Mom, you told me I could bring Aila so I would have someone to hang with and now we can’t even go to a party. Were 19 mom not 8” Alex spoke irritated.

Aila, that was the name you used, but it wasn’t your real name. Only Alex and your family knew your real name and also the reason you didn’t use it.

“Hey, I know we’re eight but wee can totally party!” Tim shouted while dancing in his chair. “I totally understand Miss Jones.“ you say while sending a chat towards Alex and throwing him a wink. “We wouldn’t want anyone to go missing.” “Thank you, Aila,” said Jane while looking at you through the centre mirror of the car.

Alex played along when he saw the Rapunzel gif you send him. “I am sorry mom, I should have been more rational. “ he said while trying to hide his smirk. The gif you had sent him was one where she escaped her tower. The two of you threw each other a smirk before you heard Carlos speaking.

“We are here!”

[bighandslittlefeet]

Hello Everyone!

So we left Sydney in Val the Van and have been on the road for six days now! It's been marvellous. We’re not sad to see the back of Sydney, serving coffees and running escape rooms can only hold your interest for so long, and I think we packed in all of the good touristy stuff in the first two weeks, so by the end of two months we were definitely hankering for something new! We’re sad to say goodbye to our friends and new work colleagues of course, but the open road beckoned, and on Sunday we set off in a freshly packed Val. We made a short stop for coffee at Four Brothers for Espresso and had a cheeky egg and bacon sarnie and then began the journey properly.

We headed south to go north, hitting up Jervis bay as we had been told by numerous folk that it was truly unmissable. It took us a good five hours to get down, owing to bad traffic on the main highway, it looked to us in passing that a lorry driver had had a serious near miss and was on the side of the road shedding tears to a police officer, meanwhile, we were all diverted down into the valley and onto the b roads. A lot of traffic wound its way through two very picturesque, but very small, seaside towns. Eventually though we made our way out of Sydney and further and further south.

Jervis bay is a nature reserve park with stunning beaches known for their high silica content which keeps them cool and makes them brilliantly white to look at. As we arrived at the park boundary we decided to buy a two day pass, after talking with a really nice park keeper who was sure that the campsites inside the park were a rip off and we’d do much better commuting in and out. So we drove in, the road becoming less and less sealed, further and further, the bush growing more and more tangled and dense. We came to the end of the road. The far end of the peninsula. The furthest beach. We did the obligatory suncreaming and made for the nearest beach. The view was stunning. A sweeping bay with white sands as far as could be seen interspersed with pockets of green and rocky outcroppings encroaching on the shore. We soon realised that this particular edge had quite a lot of rocks and weeds in the amazingly clear water and made our way back to Val, and proceeded to the other side of the headland. This beach, similar in beauty, was replete with a smattering of folks, swimming, eating, sunbathing, and so we felt more comfortable getting out togs off and jumping in. Val came with a full face mask snorkelling kit and two other normal snorkel masks and mouthpieces, so we took the opportunity, as recommended gain by friends, to do a bit of snorkelling. It was chilly water, but gloriously clear. We could see small silvery fish about a handspan in length, and a few jellies here and there. The sand quickly dropped away into the bay and we stuck to the shallows. Later, reading a pamphlet on the beach we would find that we were meant to always face the sea, as sharks were regular guests of the bays! Luckily we were spared any sightings that day!

After a short nap on the sand and a dry off in the early afternoon sunshine we made our way back out of the park. We drove to Hyams beach, another stunner, but the sun was beginning to get low on the horizon and we were starting to get peckish. We made our way to a shop to pick up foodie stuff, the plan was to make a bit of a mexican feast, poached chicken, smoky pepper mole, quac, salsa, blackened corn, and warmed mini tacos. We then made our way over to another site we had identified at bream beach. We couldn’t have done any better, well priced, on the edge of a lake and the people who greeted us were so super friendly. And the kangaroos. They lived on the site. 15 of them, just out of season, so there were some very small young ones! Very cute and very friendly. We watched the sunset with a glass of wine and had leftovers as it was too late to cook.

The next day we headed back into the park. We headed to steamer’s bay, a secluded beach a bit of a hike from the nearest parking spot. It was recommended no swimming, and as we crested the hill we could see why, the beach ran long and shallow and must have had quite a significant drop off as the swell was immense, waves taller than our heads relentlessly crashed onto the beach. We descended the steep staircase into the bay and walked the beaches length and breadth before turning back to the staircase and the walk back to Val. That night we made the feast and ate very well indeed. The next morning we set our sights on hunter valley, a location renowned for its wine and more importantly north of Sydney. We set off and broke the journey for a coffee and a bite in Wollongong, a small seaside town just south of Sydney. A lovely cafe playing Paolo Nutini, served great coffee and a bacon and egg roll - scrambled this time, not fried, and with a nice tomato relish. The BNE as they are called here, seems to the staple of cafes rather than the BLT, as in the UK. I think it is rather excellent. The time in Wollongong was rounded off with a walk up to a lighthouse and along the coast for a little stretch before once again we headed back towards Val. Some of you may know that Becca and I have a collaborative Google map on which we have been bookmarking places to see and go on this trip and we actually had one marked for this town. As we walked back through town to the car park, we passed Chicko’s a fried chicken hut - we couldn’t remember for the life of us why we had tagged it but it looked like it was doing roaring trade. We would have had some had it not been for the lovely food we had just had! And also, fried chicken mid morning seemed a little odd!

Back on the road we blasted the tunes until we climbed the foothills, into the mountains, and finally the valley. An uncanny sense of deja vu took over as it seemed we were transported into the South of France, vineyards and gateways with no fences, lined the route sporadically. Until we hit the towns which were a strange american cultural mix, I could have been in France, although driving on the wrong side of the road! We pulled into the campsite we had booked and set up camp, the temperature was cooler here, and so we shrugged on some jackets and walked across the way to a brewery. We got a tasting platter of local brewed beers, reasoning that tomorrow we could do the wines. We sat and chatted as the sun gto lower and lower in the sky and decided to have a bite to eat at the brewery. A very satisfactory fish and chips and chicken parmo later, and we were contentedly strolling back to camp for a deep sleep.

The next day we did our first campsite wash. The temperature was up so the clothes hung in the sun and were dry in no time. We were soon picked up by our tour which we had booked in Sydney a few weeks ago as a sort of early Christmas treat to ourselves. When in Rome… The tour had been recommended by a friend and was run by a winery/restaurant known as Two Fat Blokes. Julie, our van driver came picked us up at the gates of our site and warned us that today we would be drinking around a bottle and a half of wine each and so had plenty of water on hand - we rubbed our hands with glee. The other couples on the bus were Swiss and American and we picked up a trio of Irish women before making our first wine stop at Leogate. The nine of us sat at a long table outside under a shaded canopy and we were served a flight of 10 or so wines of varying styles and ages. They were all young and fruity and really quite nice. My old world sensibilities have definitely been eroded by this experience. We barreled back into the van, after a few obligatory photos of the vines with the mountains in the background, and began the drive to the next cellar door. Conversation was much more lubricated, thanks I am sure in no small part to the copious quantities of wine just imbibed on near empty stomachs, and we began to chat with the Americans, who turned out to be an Australian and an American who had been dating long distance and were here during their week together. I was asked who my team was, which I had no reply to, until Becca told me he was enquiring about football - at which point I was at even more of a loss. Grasping at straws I related how many people in the UK seemed to be interested in the NFL now, and I myself had picked up a t-shirt at a charity shop which I had been reliably informed was to do with an american sports team, but which I had bought because of its florid tie-dyed aesthetic.

The bus rounded the corner and we were suddenly in a spanish villa. An uncanny sense of deja vu washed over me again, as were were ushered through large oak doors into a high vaulted room. The dude who lead our tasting this time had a very nice pair of DMs on and was a pretty chilled and nice guy. Another flight of wines and we were soon in the van on our way to the two fat blokes pop up restaurant where we had been promised not only nine more wines to taste but also a flight of tasty cheeses to accompany them. The cheese was phenomenal. I’m proud to say the best of the cheese was imported from good ole europe! It was stunning. A real range, and all of them worked very well together on the palate. A new cheese, which I had not had before - a labna, was incredibly creamy and flavoured with a light floral tang. The smoky, the creamy, all went together with the light, the fruity, the well bodied, the red, the white, the rose, and the liqueurs that were placed before us. Placed by, frankly, our alcoholic guide, who admitted to always having at least ten of such and such a bottle on standby, and could happy put away a bottle or two of x and y wines by herself! Much respect. The tasting was made all the more hilarious by the bunch of Irish lasses who had the most amazingly over the top reactions to every cheese we had, it was either ‘the best fucking cheese I have ever tasted, oh my god, Sairosie, have you actually tried this cheese, it's incredible’ to ‘it literally tastes like, and you’ll forgive me for saying this - bird shite’. It was a hoot.

We were the first to be dropped off by the van and we settled into the van quite merrily, making our pre-planned ham and cheese toasties as our designated drunk food. But! These were no ordinary ham and cheese toasties!! As I set about making the roux to form the basis of the cheese sauce, Becca sliced the sourdough breads and began buttering every side. Soon we could begin construction. A doorstop slice of bread, a smear of the cheese sauce, a slice of edam, a few slices of chunky deli ham, a slice of edam, another smear of the mustardy cheese sauce, and finally another double buttered sourdough slice to complete the architectural marvel. Straight to a hot pan, toasted to a golden crisp on both sides, the innards, steaming and goopy. A triumph if we don’t mind saying so ourselves.

The next day we took to the road, bidding goodbye to our strange little campsite in the rolling vines of Hunter Valley. We made a stop at the two wineries we had visited prior to the two fat blokes stop and bought a couple of bottles for Christmas. We then made our way over to Nelson Bay. We spent some time durdling around on a very lovely beach and then made our way up to the headland lighthouse which had stunning views of the bay. We had a spider - an australian coke float, and shared some scones and cream. A questionable variant on the British Cream tea, to be sure. That night we found ourselves in a lovely beachside campsite next to the beach. We tried for another walk but the wind was so strong that it was like being sandblasted. We quickly gave up and turned in as the sun set. That night we found the joys of staying in a powered site, the next day all of our gear was fully charged and the fridge was lovely and cold, now flashing error signs for us as the second battery contended with watery first morning light falling on the solar panel. We set off towards Seal rocks, our next stop, having been recommended a campsite there known as Treachery Camp, by a colleague of Becca’s in Sydney. En route we decided to have lunch at the Rick stein signature restaurant. We hadn’t had any fresh fish yet and we had been looking forward to it down here. So we opted for a fancy meal to treat ourselves. We drank sparkling water on the balcony and ate spiced crab and wonderfully fried fresh fish, and bbq’d king prawns. It was fab!

Soon again we were on the road, barreling along the edge of lakes, and through winding twilight forests. Before we knew what hit us we hit the unsealed road and poor Valerie began to bounce and scream like no-ones business! We slowed to a five km/h crawl and still felt like we were sat on a giant washing machine. After a three kilometre stretch we hit the campsite and found ourselves in the midst of the remains of a festival type hangover. To top it off we were told that they didn’t assign sites we just had to find a spot ourselves. We were a little stressed and found ourselves between some trees - which we soon found out dappled our solar panel! We set out for the beach which was desolate, windy and beautiful. But alas we had no signal and had not expected being without it so couldn’t contact family to let them know we’d be off grid for two days. We didn’t feel like decamping either - only wanting to put Val through that dirt track once more when we left. We made some cracking food though, a very tasty cassoulet, and soon the rabble rousing crowd left and it became a much more young family beach vibe place. We grew more comfortable and relaxed.

We rattled our way back down the unsealed road two mornings later and were soon back on the road towards Port Macquarie. And I’ll leave you with this little tidbit of the next installment - koalas, friends and drinking - oh my.

With Love, Hugs, Spotty Signal and Low Battery Level Power Packs,

Sam and Becca

X

[sky-writes-daydreams]

How They Met Chapter Ten

A/N: Yes I know. Horrible update schedule. I just couldn’t wait any longer. :) Plus I can’t sleep so let’s see if I can keep you all up as well! Hahaahahah No seriously though, Thank you so much for continued support. It means a lot to me honestly.

@valkyrieofardyn @shigekihizashi @blackpaladinarchive

Next Chapter    Masterpost

I passed out that night on the bed still crying. I woke up that morning and went right for a shower. In such a humid town like lestallum, I always soaked my shirts at night. Only as I pulled it off, another scent got my attention. Even just the brief time he held me, Ardyn’s cologne had rubbed off onto my shirt. I quickly threw it into my bag and buried it away from me. Just smelling him again and remembering set it off all over again to the point I was almost sick in the shower.

I stayed in that room for a week. I didn’t leave except to get some food. I needed to think about some stuff and calm down. I ignored my phone as well for the whole week. I knew ardyn texted and even called at least one. I just couldn’t bring myself to answer. I had just decided to leave and get back to hunting when someone else called. I looked before answering with a small smile.

“Hi Iggy.”

“Skylar. Thank the gods. Are you ok?”

“Yeah…. I guess I am.” I got into my jeep then and sighed. It felt good to be back in Bella.

“You don’t sound it… Where are you?”

“Lestallum. Been here for the past week. I got an escort into a base to get my Jeep out. I didn’t see your car.”

“Oh no worries. We’ve got Regalia. We’ve just been worried about you. Things between you and the Chancellor seemed…” I felt it then. The slight pang at the mention of him.

“It’s over… I… I sent him away.” My voice dropped. I tried to keep it from doing that but It honestly hurt. I pushed away a good friend all because of my own insecurities. Ignis picked up on it as well.

“I hope it wasn’t on our behalf…”

“It wasn’t. Look Can we talk about something else? How did you get Regalia back?”

“We broke in. He made an appearance but only to save us from Ravus.”

“So he kept that promise… Good. She ok?”

“Perfect condition. Cindy just checked her over in case and there’s not even a tracker.” I smiled then.

“Smart move… you boys hitting the road again?”

“Yes. You as well?”

“Yeah…” I looked up then and sighed. This part of Cleigne was suffocating me.

“I’m going to hit some of my older stomping grounds.”

“Will you stay in signal?”

“I’m not sure honestly…. I’ll text if I find any tombs at least.” I smiled then.

“I think I know where one is anyway…”

“What? Where?”

“On a volcano…. I’ll send you a photo of the building. If it is one, I’ll tell you the location.”

“Very well. Skylar…. If you need anything, Call. Ok?” I smiled a bit then. He was worried still. I wasn’t hiding it as well as I thought I was.

“You got it Ignis. Same to you guys. I’ll see you around.”

“Of course. See you soon.” He hung up then and I smiled. They were such dorks. I quickly put my phone in the middle console and started Bella up. I didn’t need Directions for where I was going. I pulled out of lestallum and quickly headed north east on the highway. It was the fastest way up to the Rock of Ravatogh. I heard a while back that they were having demon issues again so where better to clear my head? Didn’t help that it was an active Volcano. No one would or could bug me up there.

I wish I had been right about that. It was only my second night up there. I had climbed up at least twice during the day and my body was sore. I had just gotten a shower and laid out on the bed in the back of the RV turning on the tv just to have some background noise while I slept. It was a pretty comfy bed for an rv honestly. That part always shocked me. I finally pulled out my phone after being super busy and checked. At least one new message from him. I didn’t dare check them. I didn’t trust myself not to text him back. I quickly turned it off and curled up under the light blanket and sighed. It was going to be better this way.  I could go to altissia and just hunt and not worry about politics or anything this way. I wish I could convince my brain of that.

That night I honestly dreamed. It was rare for me to have dreams that I could remember or truly see. I was running through the desert. I couldn’t see what was chasing me but I knew it was bad. I was scared. Only there was someone in front of me and I had to get to them. If I could get to them, I’d be safe. That was all I knew. Get to them and be safe. They’d protect me. Only when I was about five feet away, they turned. Those wine colored locks, that stupid smile and coat. His arms opened and right as I took another step the ground under me gave. I jolted awake terrified of falling and instantly wanting to choke. I could smell his cologne. I quickly checked my shirt and the blanket but it wasn’t from that. Then I heard it. That god forsaken chuckle. I checked the tv and there was a character that had the same laugh. I quickly turned it off and packed back up. It was only two so I’d be fine. I got my stuff and quickly ran across the road and hit the trail. The smell was in the RV so I couldn’t stay there. Not without having all of that come back up. I didn’t want to deal with that. Not now and not ever again.

I kept my promise that day. As soon as the sun rose I climbed the rest of the Volcano and I got a photo of the odd building on the side of the mountain. It has been there all my life so when the next day, the boys showed up, I wasn’t shocked. I had gone back to the caravan for the simple fact it had a shower and just walked out for the day’s journey up to get some wyvern wings for someone when they pulled up. I had been staying up at the haven ever since that dream. I stayed close by and the second Ignis killed the car, Noctis jumped out and came over.

“Where?” I tilted my head and he smiled.

“The tomb. Where is it?”

“Near the top… End of the trail.” He stopped then and I sighed.

“What?”

“You hiked up there?”

“Um… Yeah. Like… three times now? It’s not that hard.” I scratched the back of my head then and waved as Prompto came over. He smiled then and held out an ebony. I guess they could tell I had barely slept.

“Thought you might need this.” I stopped then and Ignis came close smiling.

“Go ahead. I gave permission.” I nodded then and got it.

“Thanks…” I cracked it open easily and took a drink. Gladio came close and smiled.

“You’ve been busy. All the hunts are done except one that none of us are ranked for.” I smiled then.

“I just slept about four hours… So yeah. And I’ve got a favor to do up there so if we’re going…. Make sure you’ve got potions and stuff.” They nodded and the younger ones ducked into the store. I made sure my gear was on correct now that I was waking up. Ignis came over as I was tying my left boot though.

“Sup specs?”

“What’s going on?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve barely slept… Pretty sure you lost what little weight you had… you’ve been out of contact for over a week now Skylar…” I sighed then as I got it tied and lowered my pants over it. He was seriously worried. I looked up then.

“I’m barely sleeping because I can’t. I try to sleep but my mind won’t shut down. So I hunt and I work until I drop. I lost weight because yes… I stopped eating for a bit. I’m fine though… I appreciate the worry but calm down… you’ve got a wanna be king to look out for.” I got his shoulder then.

“I’ve survived this long… I’m not ending my streak just yet.” He nodded once then.

“Understood.” I nodded and smiled.

“Now come on. Remember that Ginger I told you about?” He looked at me then and I smiled.

“This is where I get it from.” I pointed up to the mountain then and watched his eyes widen slightly.

“The mountain?!” I nodded then.

“I know where all the patches are. So… Besides to make sure you all don’t die, I’m coming with to share.” He nodded then and made sure we took off shortly after.

“God you guys are pussies…. Crownsguard must not do a lot of training if I can outhike you.” I knelt down near the haven at the edge of a cliff. Noctis was below me trying to climb up with gladio under him. He looked up then.

“You’re insane and been up here before. We haven’t. Shush.” I laughed then and offered him a hand to pull him up. He took it and I got him up. Gladio was next and he was even breaking a sweat. Prompto was after him and honestly fell in the haven. Ignis was last and seemed the less winded. I offered him a hand and easily got him up. He smiled then as he adjusted his glasses.

“They are right… Your experience shows.” I shrugged then smiling.

“It’s just fun to see how fast I can make it up here…. It’s one of the last places I have good memories with my dad at.” He stopped then and I smiled.

“They were hunters too… got their tags when I was fourteen.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.” I shrugged then.

“Shit happens. Now, Ready for part two?”

“There’s a part two?!” I looked back and the boys were staring at me stunned. I nodded and pointed across the huge gap below us.

“On the other side of this, is the tomb.” They groaned then but got up off the rocks. Gladio had stripped off his shirt and smiled.

“You ok?” I nodded. I had taken off the light coat I was wearing halfway up and now used it to dab away sweat. Left in nothing but a tank and my cargo pants with my satchel, I was a sight for sure.

“Used to this. So come on… Before that thunder head of a zu comes back.” I took off then missing whatever look they were giving me.

Second part of the hike was the easy part. We found the tomb easily and Noctis got the royal arm he needed. I stayed outside at the overlook while they got it. It wasn’t my place to go into a royal tomb after all. I was sitting there with my legs dangling off when they came back. The view was amazing for sure. I heard prompto take a photo before he sat down next to me. The others did as well and I saw Noctis smile.

“Awesome View.” I nodded then and smiled.

“Not as good as one from the arches in Duscae…. But it is nice.” They laughed then and I smiled.

“You guys didn’t come just for the arm did you?”

“Nope.” I nodded then and Noctis looked over.

“You’re a friend…. You go awol for over a week and people will worry. Especially when you’re spotted leaving an Imperial base.” I nodded then and smiled.

“I get it guys…. Just… things have happened. I need to work them out on my own…. And make a choice I guess.” I sighed then looking down.

“I got too close to a fire… and while it didn’t burn me… I got scared. So I ran…. I hid and now… I’m running….” I gripped the edge then.

“It felt good… I was safe…. I wasn’t scared of the future or anything…. But if things went wrong, It could have hurt me and a lot of others including you all…. And I can’t stand that. I can’t risk everyone for my own sake.”

“Says who?” I bit my lip then. Noctis was looking right at me.

“Skylar… you’re our friend. As you’ve pointed out, I’m a nobody to you. Just a friend. You don’t have anything to do with my stuff… It affects you yeah because you live here…. But considering how I’m ready to throw everything away if it means seeing Luna again safe and sound… I’m the last one you need to be saying that selfless stuff to.” I laughed then but it didn’t stop the tears.

“I’m scared…. Because if you throw everything away for that one thing… into this one fire to keep it alive… and it still goes out….”

“If it’s real… it’ll never go out…. I haven’t seen luna in over 12 years… Yet I know I want to see her… To see that smile again and hear her laugh… So much so I’ve dragged these three all over lucis in search of my royal legacy so I’m strong enough to protect her and our people.”

“Yeah, it’s been a real pain!” I looked just in time to see gladio headlock him and I laughed. Ignis smiled then.

“He is right…. Taking a risk of getting burnt can sometimes be worth it…. After all.. I did just get some Ginger out of it.” He held up the small pouch of ginger he collected and that only made it worse. I fell back laughing then and Prompto joined me.

“Nice to hear you laughing hon. You must not have laughed a lot lately.”

“It’s been hard…” He nodded then and smiled.

“You know what helps?” I looked over and soon yelped as he hugged me. Only then we got picked up by gladio who hugged us both. Quickly I was in the middle of a group hug and even if I couldn’t breathe, I felt better. For those few seconds… I felt ok enough to smile through the tears.

[thefeedpost]

50+ True Crime Stories That Will Shock You To Your Core

12 True Creepy Crimes That Will Make You Lock Your Doors Tonight 1. Angela Hammond

“She was talking on the payphone with her fiance and saying how there is this suspicious truck that keeps driving around the block. Then, that truck parks near her where the payphone is, he gets out and starts looking around with his flashlight as if he lost something, then he confronts Angela and abducts her. Her fiance heard all of this on the other line and immediately got in his car to drive where Angela was. When doing so, he drove past the guy in the truck and Angela was apparently screaming his name for help, so he turns around and tries following the truck and his transmission fucks up and the guy got away. Angela has never been heard from again. And, she was pregnant.”

2. Annie Borjesson annierockstar.com

“I find the case of Annie Borjesson really weird. She was a Swedish student studying in Edinburgh. She then went to Prestwick airport (literally the other side of the country, then down a bit), caught on CCTV at the airport for ten seconds, then left. She tried to take out money multiple times from different ATMs, but didn’t have the funds so was denied. She was seen wandering about Prestwick, and then was found dead on the beach. Her long hair had been cut off, and the post mortem (as far as I have read) concluded death by drowning.

She may have been victim to foul play, or it was suicide. I also found that her parents’ e-mails were allegedly hacked later on. It may be a case of self-inflicted violence/mental health issues, but I find Annie’s case just so bizarre and sad.”

3. The Hinterkaifeck Murders Andreas Biegleder

“The Hinterkaifeck murders. A family saw footprints in the snow leading to their farm, but no footprints out of the farm. A few days later, they were killed in their own home. There was evidence that the perpetrators were staying in their house or the farm before the killings.

It’s creepy because your house is supposed to be the safest place. It’s hard to feel secure when you think about the possibility that your killer may be living with you without you noticing.”

4. Dorothy Scott

“I was just reading about Dorothy Scott recently. Her story is the saddest, and the creepiest was the bones of the dead dog the killer left on top of her remains to throw scavenger dogs off of his trail. Also, how her watch was stopped to the exact moment she died. I just can’t believe that he called her family so often and they could never trace the calls…I know it was the times though. But the whole thing is so horrifying.”

5. Brandon Swanson

“For those who are not familiar with his story, Brandon was a 19 year old who lived in Marshall, MN. He was returning home from a party recently celebrating his graduation from a community college up in a town north of Marshall called Canby and was on his way home.

Along the way home he crashed in a ditch. For some reason he was taking gravel roads even though the highway between the two towns was a straight shot North to South. I am guessing he took this route as a joy ride type of thing since he loved his car and driving in general or maybe he had a little too much to drink at the party and didn’t want to deal with any state troopers on patrol. He called his dad for a ride and eventually got tired of waiting inside his crashed car and started to walk towards Marshall. He claimed to his dad to see ‘lights’ of something nearby then abruptly exclaimed “Oh shit!” to his dad while still on the phone and his call ended. To this day no one knows what happened to him. No body found, none of his belongings found, nothing. There’s more to the story but that’s my summary. If you want to learn more just dig around.

My guess on what happened to Brandon is either he slipped and fell in a river due to not being able to see in the darkness, got shot and buried somewhere by a belligerent farmer who hated people trespassing on his property and would rather shoot then ask questions or was abducted by aliens (which would explain the lights). This case just creeps me out because I too live in Southern MN and I’m semi familiar with the Marshall area. It’s mostly flat farmlands around here so I really do not understand how someone can just disappear into thin air in the middle of nowhere without a body or any remains being found.”

6. The Bennington Triangle Disappearances

“Beginning in November 1945 through October 1950, five people — ages 8- to 74-years-old — went missing in the area. One was an experienced hunting guide and another was a 53-year-old woman described as an experienced camper and hiker who knew the area like the back of her hand. I’ve hiked Vermont’s Long Trail myself and there are places where you get a feeling of being watched by someone or some “thing.” In 2008, an instructor at Bennington College and experienced hiker got lost on the mountain, later recounted his strange experiences and swore he would never again hike the trail alone.”

7. The Setagaya Family

“The killer stayed in the house for hours, eating their [the Setagaya family’s] food, logging into the family computer and sleeping on their couch. It’s so creepy because rarely does a killer stick around for hours after they commit their crime making themselves at home.”

8. Brandon Lawson

“Ran out of gas in Middle of Nowhere, TX in 2013. Called the cops, much of it is inaudible but he implies he’s being chased into the woods, and says he needs the cops. When police arrived, they find his truck but nothing else. Not a trace of him since.”

9. Katarzyna Zowada (The “Skin case”)

“A young Polish student disappears in Krakow city.

Few months later a ship on the Vistula river stops because ‘something’ stuck into a propeller. What they have found surprised everyone.

They have gotten out a… skin of missing Katarzyna Zowada. To be more precise: A suit made of human skin. Someone had cut all the limbs and head then created a ‘body suit’ from remaining part which was probably worn by the murderer for some time.

Despite media attention and increased police interest every few years a perpetrator never had been found.”

10. Cassie Jo Stoddart

“She [Cassie Jo Stoddart] was house-sitting for her aunt. She invited her boyfriend over and his two friends came over as well. His friends left and said they were going to the movies. They didn’t.

At some point before “leaving”, they unlocked a basement door, unbeknownst to her. They shut the power off to scare her. They sat there (hiding) until her boyfriend left and she was alone and proceeded to put masks on, come in the house and stab her. If that isn’t bad enough, a video was found where they planned to murder her ahead of time. There was footage of them right after they killed her as well.”

11. Kris Kremers and Lisanne Froon Photo from one of the recovered cameras

“Another creepy mystery that resonates with me is the disappearance of Kris Kremers and Lisanne Froon. Long story short, two Dutch girls visiting Panama decide to go on a hike a day before they were scheduled to meet a guide for a tour and they go missing the same night. 10 weeks later their remains and possessions are found down stream from where the girls were hiking.

What creeps me out the most about this disappearance is the pictures that were found on Lisanne’s camera that turned up in the remains. The pictures go from the usual nice pictures of landscapes and of the girls posing with landmarks to cryptic pictures of the darkness as what many assume were attempts to use the flash of the camera to act as a signal for rescuers. Also there was a photo of back of Kris’s head with what possibly looks like blood by her temple. Just the fact that no one knows what happened to these two during their time in the jungle is what is most unsettling about this mystery.”

12. Daniel LaPlante’s Murders

“Daniel LaPlante is a triple murderer. He killed a nursery school teacher & her 2 kids in 1987. After a massive man-hunt they still could not find him. The ultra creepy thing is what happened. He was eventually discovered-after being on the run-in the closet of a girl he’d dated. She opened her door one night to see him standing there, in her mother’s clothes, face smeared with makeup, holding a machete. He tied her & her family up , but the youngest narrowly escaped. As if this isn’t bad enough, they AGAIN could not find him, till 2 weeks later. The family, who’d moved out, came back home and SAW LAPLANTE IN THE WINDOW. The police were called and later found out why he’d been so hard to find. Daniel had been living in the walls of his former girlfriend’s house the entire time.”

7 Of The Most Brutal Murders Ever Committed In The History Of The Human Race (NSFL) 1. The Toolbox Killer

The transcript of what happened to Shirley Ledford at the hands of Toolbox Killers Lawrence Bittaker and Roy Norris is the most disturbing thing you will ever come across.

An excerpt from the transcript:

“At this point, after Bittaker had forced Shirley to fellate him, repeated sounds of an administered beating, interspersed with loud screams can be heard as Bittaker savagely beat Shirley about the breasts and, to a lesser degree, head. Bittaker then extracted his pliers from the tool box. Shirley then emits several high-pitched, prolonged screams and cries of agony as Bittaker alternately squeezes and twists her labia, clitoris, nipples and breasts with the pliers. Bittaker then returns the pliers to the tool box. Banging sounds can also be heard throughout, which are believed to have been made as Shirley came into contact with the walls and inner contents of the van as she writhed and flailed.”

Ledford: My God! Please stop it! (Screams) Bittaker: Is the recorder going? Norris: Yeah! Bittaker: Scream baby! Scream some, baby.

2. Kelly Anne Bates

Bates was horrifically tortured for days before her tormentor finally killed her. Below are a few examples of what she went through.

According to Wikipedia, Kelly Anne Bates (18 May 1978 – 16 April 1996) was a British teenager murdered on 16 April 1996 at age 17 in Manchester after being tortured for four long weeks. Kelly’s eyes were gouged from their sockets up to three weeks before she actually died from drowning in a bathtub. These horrific crimes were committed by her partner, James Patterson Smith.

Below is a list from Wikipedia of the specific injuries Kelly Anne Bates endured through torture:

Scalding to her buttocks and left leg Burns on her thigh caused by the application of a hot iron A fractured arm Multiple stab wounds caused by knives, forks and scissors Stab wounds inside her mouth Crush injuries to both hands Mutilation of her ears, nose, eyebrows, mouth, lips and genitalia Wounds caused by a spade and pruning shears Both eyes gouged out Later stab wounds to the empty eye sockets Partial scalping

3. Junko Furuta

Furuta was a 17-year-old Japanese girl whose case became known as the “concrete-encased high school girl murder case.” Furuta was kidnapped by four teenage boys and, aside from the brutality of the assaults against her, the most disturbing thing is that she was held at one of the kidnapper’s houses and his parents were present the entire time, knew what was going on, and did nothing to stop it.

Also extremely disturbing is that Furuta turned 17 while she was in captivity and enduring these horrors. There’s something tremendously upsetting about that.

According to Wikipedia:

To avoid concern over her abduction, the perpetrators forced Furuta to call her parents and tell them that she would be staying at a friend’s house for a while. Over the course of her confinement, Furuta was repeatedly raped, beaten, and tortured by her four captors until they killed her. The parents of Kamisaku were present in the home for at least a part of the time that Furuta was held captive, and though she pleaded with them for help, they did not intervene, later claiming that they feared their son too much to do so.

The killers hid her corpse in a 208-litre oil drum filled with concrete. They disposed of the drum in a tract of reclaimed land in Kōtō, Tokyo.

4. The Hi-Fi Murders

In 1974, two men robbing a Hi-Fi store in Odgen, Utah held captive and tormented five individuals. Only two of the captives would survive. Among the sadism levied on the captives were the following, according to Wikipedia:

Violence included a pen being kicked into an ear and the brutal rape of a teenage girl who was later shot in the head. Corrosive drain cleaner was also forcefully given to the hostages causing horrific burns to their mouths and throats.

Not only were they forced to drink drain cleaner but their mouths were then taped shut so they couldn’t spit it out or vomit it up.

One of the victims, Orren Walker, was shot several times, strangled and had a pen kicked into his ear but still survived.

5. The McStay Family

In 2010, in Fallbrook, California, the McStay family (including Joseph McStay, his wife Summer, and their two children), was brutally murdered. The four were then moved by the killer and buried in a shallow grave in the desert but their remains weren’t found until 2013. For three years they’d simply believed to have disappeared.

Forensic evidence showed that all had been beaten to death with a sledgehammer which was found near the family’s remains. Joseph McStay suffered four blows to the head and the family’s youngest child, only four years old, suffered seven. Investigators also believe the family was tortured prior to being killed.

Charles Merritt, McStay’s former business partner has been charged with the family’s murder.

6. James Bulger via Wikipedia

In 1993, in England, two-year-old James Bulger was abducted by two ten-year-olds at the mall while his mother was distracted.

After taking him from the mall, the two boys took Bulger on a two and a half mile walk. At one point they picked Bulger up and dropped him on his head which caused him to have a bump on his head and, according to bystanders, cry.

The two then took him up an embankment and onto a set of railroad tracks where they began torturing him.

More details of the murder according to Wikipedia:

At the trial it was established that at this location, one of the boys threw blue Humbrol modelling paint, which they had shoplifted earlier, into Bulger’s left eye. They kicked and stomped on him, and threw bricks and stones at him. Batteries were placed in Bulger’s mouth. Police believed some batteries may have been inserted into his anus, although none were found there. Finally, a 22-pound (10.0 kg) iron bar, described in court as a railway fishplate, was dropped on him. Bulger suffered ten skull fractures as a result of the iron bar striking his head. Dr. Alan Williams, the case’s pathologist, stated that Bulger suffered so many injuries—42 in total—that none could be isolated as the fatal blow.

Police suspected that there was a sexual element to the crime, since Bulger’s shoes, socks, trousers and underpants had been removed. The pathologist’s report read out in court stated that Bulger’s foreskin had been forcibly retracted.

Before they left him, the boys laid Bulger across the railway tracks and weighted his head down with rubble, in the hope that a train would hit him and make his death appear to be an accident.

After Bulger’s killers left the scene, his body was cut in half by a train. Bulger’s severed body was discovered two days later on 14 February.

7. Amora Bain Carson

Amora Bain Carson, the 13-month-old baby who was tortured to death by her mother’s boyfriend during an “exorcism.” I’ll tell the story by copying some things from each of their appeals. Jesseca Carson was the baby’s mother, and the boyfriend was Blaine Milam. Jessica Carson was sentenced to life, while Blaien Milam was sentenced to death.

WARNING: Graphic Content

“Carson concluded that the child was like ‘Chucky’ or ‘Pet Sematary’ (horror movies) when the “boy dies and comes back to life all evil and stuff” because the child was “biting Blaine to where it was drawing blood on his hands.” After Milam returned to the child, he took a picture of her and gave it to Carson. One of the child’s eyes was stretched and ‘like warped down.’ Carson heard horrible cries from the child as Milam was attempting the exorcism.”

“During the hours involved, Milam had taken the child to a back bedroom in their small dwelling and wedged the door shut. The evidence would allow a jury to conclude that Carson was necessarily aware of what was happening to the child, because she admitted hearing the screams that accompanied such torture and because she saw the child’s deformed head after some time had passed and heard the sounds caused by the blows.”

“They found blood-spatter stains, consistent with blunt force trauma, near the south bedroom. Among the items collected from the south bedroom were: blood-stained bedding and baby clothes; blood-stained baby diapers and wipes; a tube of Astroglide lubricant; and a pair of jeans with blood stains on the lap. DNA testing later showed that Amora’s blood was on these items.”

“As a result of the ‘exorcism’ conducted by Milam, Amora suffered innumerable injuries that led to her death. Forensic evidence showed the child was beaten so severely that the multitude of fractures to her skull connected with each other like a jigsaw puzzle, and her brain was torn and severely damaged. An arm and leg had spiral fractures indicating they were twisted in two, her torso was either struck by a blunt object or squeezed until the ribs and sternum broke, and her body (neck, chest, abdomen, buttocks, both elbows, both forearms, both feet, right arm, left shoulder, left upper arm, left hand, right thigh, and left knee) was riddled with no less than twenty-four distinct bite marks. Her head and face were so scraped and bruised that all the discrete injuries combined into “one giant injury.” Her liver was torn, and her vaginal and anal orifices were so torn that the vagina and rectum were actually connected, an injury the forensic examiner had never seen before. The underside of her tongue was lacerated from blunt force trauma. She was also strangled. Because of all the injuries she sustained, it was not possible to determine which one was the final injury, and no specific, singular cause of death was determinable. Forensic testimony reflected that several of the injuries standing alone would have each been fatal. Police were called several hours later; when they arrived, the child was entirely stiff and in rigor.”

“On December 13th, appellant’s sister, Teresa, went to see appellant in jail. That night, she told her aunt that she ‘was needing to find a way to get back out to the trailer in Tatum’ because “Blaine had told her that she needed to go out there to the trailer to get some evidence out from underneath of it.” The aunt called Sgt. Rogers and told her that “she needed to get out to the trailer immediately, that Teresa was wanting to go out there to get some evidence out from underneath the trailer.”

“Sgt. Rogers immediately obtained a search warrant, crawled under the trailer, and discovered a pipe wrench inside a clear plastic bag. The pipe wrench had been shoved down ‘a hole in the floor of the master bathroom.’ Forensic analysis revealed components of Astroglide on the pipe wrench, the diaper Amora had been wearing, and the diaper and wipes collected from the south bedroom.”

Werner Herzog did an episode of On Death Row about Blaine Milam and the full episode is on YouTube. It has security footage from the pawn shop where they were supposedly pawning a chainsaw to get money for an exorcism (after Amora was already dead) and a gas station, the 911 call, crime scenes photos (not of Amora’s body, of course, just the trailer) and interviews with pretty much everyone involved (except Jesseca Carson). It doesn’t make it any easier… but this case raises a lot of questions and searching online for these kinds of cases can take you horrible places that use Amora for shock value or misrepresent autopsy photos of other unfortunate victims as her (no post-mortem photos of Amora have been released and her autopsy was sealed). Especially since Amora’s case hasn’t been in the MSM very much due to the graphic nature of her death. With Herzog you’re getting quality information on the case coming straight from those involved.

Bonus: 36 Locals Share The Most Horrific True Crimes That Happened In Their Home Towns

1. “Stacey Castor poisoned her husband and then poisoned her daughter on the daughter’s first day of college. She wrote a fake suicide note for her daughter saying that she had killed her father and was committing suicide because of the guilt. The daughter almost died but recovered from the poison and testified against her mother. They also found out she had poisoned her first husband.”

2. “When I was in 3rd grade I saw a kid get into a police car while I was in chess club. Turns out his father murdered his younger twin sisters by stabbing them to death. Apparently he told them to play hide and seek and murdered them when he found them. When he finally returned to school he got bullied by the shitbag kids at our school, making fun of his dead sisters. He was placed in the custody of his aunt who later committed suicide and he was left in the care of the state after that. That boy’s life was horrible.”

3. “Around 3 years ago, my friend’s father went berserk and killed my friend, his younger brother and his mother, and then proceeded to hang himself. I remember talking to him the week before about a project we had in lit class. His extended family took the project because it was the last thing he worked on before the incident. I had grief counselors talk to me for every class I had with him (Which was almost all of them). Our school still has a Tree and a memorial dedicated to him.”

4.“Probably David Meirhofer’s murders. Among other things he snatched a seven year old girl out of her tent while her family was camping, molested her, then strangled her to death. They caught him because he called her mother to taunt her a year later.”

5. “Neighbors that lived across the road from me were having domestic issues. The wife brings over a box of stuff for us to stash because she is afraid he will steal/burn it. We stash it for her no problem. A week later she is missing, the following week they found her dead, stuffed in a box in his storage unit. He got life. We gave the box of stuff to her daughter.”

6. “Guy beat his pregnant girlfriend to death in front of her kids, then beat her 8 and 6 year old to death. Couldn’t bring himself to beat the 2 year old to death so he threw him in the dryer and turned it on.”

7. “When I was a kid one of my neighbors and his sister murdered their mom by bashing her head in with a real heavy frying pan and then strangled her with the phone cord. (Back when phones had cords) because the mother told the son that he couldn’t take his underage sister out with him to a party. So they killed her and left her body in the closet and then went to the party like nothing happened.”

8. “I live in a (relatively) rural county in England, so we normally don’t have many crimes that you could consider too bad.

About three years ago a 17 year girl I’d met once or twice went missing, she was popular and the community really pulled together in trying to find her. She was also the daughter of a detective who works in our town.

Turns out she was murdered by another lad I’d also met a few times. He was a bit older (22 I think) He seemed okay when I met him, a little cocky but nothing too unusual. He was a photographer who once staged a picture with one of my friends where she was hanging by the neck with a bag on her head. Pretty strange stuff, but I assumed it was all in the name of art.

He’d been rejected by this girl so he lured her to his house on the pretense of taking modelling photos. He strangled her to death when she got there and dumped her body miles away.

Apparently the cops found essays he’d been writing obsessively about her. He’d also taken pictures labelled “before-during-after” of her murder, so it was obviously pre-meditated.

He was given a whole-life sentence (which are very rare in the UK) so chances are he’ll never get to see the light of day again.”

9. “My neighbor that became our family’s friend had a nice step dad. He used to give me rides sometimes. We lived in a bad part of Miami (think inner city, not South Beach) and my nickname there was “smart girl” because I’m the only one in “the hood” that went to college.

Anyway, I moved away and apparently one day my friend’s mom told his step dad she wanted to leave him. He went insane. He grabbed his gun and told her she’s going to die before she leaves or something like that. My friend’s little sister was there too and was crying the whole time (she was like 16). My friend stepped between his step dad and his mom. His step dad told him if he didn’t move he’d kill him too.

He didn’t move. He killed my friend, then the mom. He turned to the little girl and said he couldn’t kill her and that he was so sorry. Then he killed himself.”

10. “The murder of Maddie Clifton. An 8 year old girl went missing in Jacksonville, FL and it became a huge national story in 1998. There was a massive hunt to find her by law enforcement and local residents. Everyone was looking. It’s all anyone talked about. A week into the search, a mother went into her son’s room while he was at school to clean it after the stench coming from it became overwhelming. His waterbed seemed to be leaking. When she looked more closely, she discovered Maddie’s body stuffed inside the pedestal of the bed.

The woman’s son was only 14 years old. He said him and Maddie were playing baseball, and when he hit the ball, it hit Maddie in the eye causing her to bleed. He says he panicked when she wouldn’t stop screaming, and said his father was abusive and was afraid what would happen to him if he she told on him. So, he dragged Maddie inside, stabbed her 11 times and beat her to death with the baseball bat.

Horrible, tragic story.”

11. “A woman murdered an expectant mother and cut the baby out, drove off, then called 911 in an attempt to pass the baby off as her own. I was just off work around that time that night and definitely drove by that exact spot before they found the body. It’s right off the highway. Creepy shit…”

12. “Our neighbor on our street was having an affair and decided it was a good idea to kill her husband then burn the house down so she could be with her pilot boyfriend.

Stupid thing was her boyfriend used to come into one local bar, said he was never that serious about her and that she was clingy, even went so far as to try and get him to be her alibi. All this happened while we were on vacation, weirdest trip home ever.”

13. “If you guys aren’t aware what’s going on in the Philippines. Most drug users/dealers are now being killed by unknown assailants. Just last week we have 2 people dumped near where I live with their heads fully wrapped with tape and hands as well with a cardboard sign saying “I’m a drug dealer. Don’t be like me” (translated from our native language).”

14. “Grew up in a small town north of the bay area, while watching a documentary about Jim Jones my teacher started crying. Found out for several years Jones’s church was in our town (2miles from my house) and after everyone committed ‘suicide’ in Guyana they ran a list of names on the local news. A large number of previous students and their parents were on the list. The shit didn’t go down in my town but a whole generation where I grew up lost friends and family to that guy and the church (with a guard tower) still stands to this day but with a different denomination.”

15. “When I was a baby there was this nice couple that lived down the street from me. No kids, middle aged, average couple. The wife and my mom would talk sometimes – casual pleasant neighborly chatter. Apparently this lady was a total sweetheart and was loved around town.

So one day my mom is driving home, and the couple’s house is surrounded by police cruisers. Turns out the wife commit suicide by shotgun. The problem was – she shot herself twice.

For months they were investigating the husband…they were so close to having the evidence that they needed to nail him for the murder.

One day, my mom and grandma were going to the store. When they left, he was sitting in his driveway in his car. He waved at them as they left. When they get home, there are police and an ambulance outside his house – he was slumped over dead in his car – suicide by carbon monoxide.

They literally saw him as he was killing himself after he killed his wife. Yikes.”

16. “Andrea Yates drowning her five kids. Happened five minutes away and our family still sees her ex husband and his new family on occasion. They’re very nice.”

17. “Let’s see… Where to start? This list doesn’t even include the stuff related to the meth epidemic.

(1990’s) A guy cut another dude into pieces with a carving knife and stashed the body in the deep freezer in his apartment. The police only found them a week later.

(2000’s) A guy got into an argument with their cousin at the club, drove to their house and chucked a firebomb inside. The fire killed all five of their kids, who were home at the time.

(2000’s again) Another guy heard that his estranged parents had a huge life insurance policy in their name. One night, he left home, drove to his parents’ place in Iowa, and killed almost everyone (6 people) with a shotgun, then drove home to eat dinner, while awaiting the news. He was only caught because his 7 year old niece hid in the closet the whole time and she was able to tell who did it.

(2015-now) Several fatal shootings and beatings that have killed a few people. Heroin epidemic.

Oh also, Michael Swango AKA “Dr. Death”, a serial killer known for poisoning victims (4-60; true number unknown), worked as an EMT around the area here in the 80’s.

So, yeah, Central Illinois is just low-key slang for ‘Trevor Philips country’.”

18. “Just happened this month, a mother of a one month old punched her baby to death because she was tired of feeding it. She then blamed the father. Fucked up.”

19. “Whitey here. I live in a small south east town. Back in the 80’s the town was still pretty segregated school wise. Where the railroad tracks once ran through town, was the diving line. South side of the railroad was probably 99.9% black. My backyard fence was part of that dividing line. When I was 10, my parents fostered a black boy my age. He lived in my neighborhood, played on my baseball team. His dad went to prison up in NY and the boy lived with us for 4 years. He moved back when his dad got out. But 30 years later, we still tell people we are brothers.

‘D’ taught me a lot about black community. Especially about times when crimes are committed and the whole black community knows who did it. But don’t tell because “fuck the police” or retaliation from the criminal.

we lived 2 blocks from the closest convenience store/arcade. People walking to the store from the south side of the tracks, walked by my house. It wasn’t the wild west or anything. We may not have gone to the same school sometimes, but we only had 1 recreation department so we played sports together. So we always saw people we knew at the store.

But there was this one guy. For the late 80’s this dude was pretty out and flamboyant when it came to being gay. Remember those 70’s and 80’s short shorts with the stripe. If you hung em just right, your balls were exposed.

Anyway, dude used to walk up and down the street, short short, flip flops, tank top t shirt, medium size afro, and usually sucking on a sucker. He was very friendly. He would stop and talk. He acted like he was a girl. He was alright. My sister and her friend were nice to him. He stopped and talked to them if they were ever about.

Fast Forward. So the dude is found in the bathroom at the ballfield. He had been murdered. Just fucked up big time. Beat to hell and back. And the story every one has head as an urban legend before. They had cut his dick off and put it in his mouth. His balls were in his hand and a broom stick had been shoved in his ass.

No suspects.

Year later, out in the county, a white sherriff’s deputy off duty from another county happens to be in our jurisdiction, checking on his parents’ house. Happens to catch 2 black guys robbing the house. He shoots and kills both after a scuffle.

Oddly enough, under routine drug test, because of the shooting, cocaine shows up on his system. This story is really fishy. Investigation goes on for a long time. The cops finally drop the case, declare it self defense or what have.

This is where my foster brother ‘D’ comes into play. Years later. We’re in our 20’s, shooting the shit and somehow bring up the murder of the gay dude. I was like, ‘I can’t believe they never solved that case.’

D was like what you talking about? Everybody knew who did it. What? He asked, ‘remember the 2 black dudes the off duty cop killed breaking into his parents house?’

Yea I remember that.

Well those were the dudes that did it. Everybody in the “hood” knew it was them. They were always terrorizing everybody. And the house they were breaking into and got caught? Drug deal. Those 2 dudes were dealing drugs, and that white guy, off duty sheriff deputy from another county. Shot em in the middle of the deal.

So two drug dealers/murderers are murdered by a crooked cop, but in the end, I don’t really consider that justice for our friendly neighborhood gay boy that probably never hurt a flea in his 20 years of life.

You may not have any love for ‘the man’ or ‘the police’ but how can a community be silent when innocent people are hurt?”

20. “Second week in my new apartment and my neighbor gets robbed and stabbed. I heard the whole encounter and was the one that called the cops.”

21. “I was emancipated really young. I just moved into emergency housing commission and had to sleep in the lounge room because it had the only light bulb and I’m scared of the dark.

For anyone not in Australia Housing Commission is cheap units or houses owned by the government and rented to disadvantaged people. Mostly junkies and welfare bludgers.

Anyway I was sleeping in the lounge room which had the front door attached when I hear the most blood curling screams.

One junkie had poured boiling water over another chick, stabbed her repeatedly and cut off one of her tits.

I was laying maybe 10 meters away.”

22. “A child was raped and murdered. Guy was arrested and he was killed within 24 hours of being arrested and in a community cell of like 6 inmates instead of segregation he died and no one in the cell seen it.”

23. “I only remember some of the details as I was on holidays at the time and only heard second hand what happened. So a guy who lived around the corner had an argument with his wife over something, got pissed off and then shot her. People heard the gunshot and called the police, which prompted him to run away in his car down the main road about 2km to his parents house where he got into their gun locker, killed his parents and then had a standoff with the police that lasted a couple of hours and ending in him shooting himself.”

24. “We had a group of people who would pretend to be the cops, dressed in all black and wore ski masks and stuff, knock on your door, say they had a warrant, and if you opened it up, they would force their way in and rob you.

This went on for months, like, month after month after month. They decided they were above the law, so their crimes kept getting worse and worse, one of their later houses they beat an old man until he had jaw, facial, and skull fractures so bad he had to have a life flight to a major trauma center where he had emergency surgery. The next old couple they killed.

They were sure the local police couldn’t do anything, the newspaper even said the police had nothing to go on, and it just kept getting worse. One of their last home invasions, they just killed the homeowner as he opened the door for absolutely no reason.

I realized that if someone had defended themselves earlier in the chain of criminality, things never would have reached this point. I ended up getting a Ring Video Doorbell and a Strikemaster II door reinforcements for each external door. I keep firearms in electronic safes ready to use at any moment. Nothing like that is going to happen to my family.”

25. “There was a family in the area I used to live in and I played soccer with the middle daughter. It was three girls — two were adults and one was still in high school — and the parents. The parents were very religious, the mother especially, and they had a lot of beliefs that I (and many people) found…strange.

The eldest daughter (whose name I don’t recall) had a serious mental illness that she managed perfectly well when she lived out of home. She had a job, had a decent life and all was well. The relationship she was in fell apart and she had to move back home for financial reasons. One of the rules her parents had was that she wasn’t to take her meds anymore because they weren’t what they considered ‘godly.’

Things deteriorated over time and the parents continued to withhold her medications. Now, I have a chronic mental illness myself and without my meds things descend into chaos quite quickly so I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like for her with her illness being more serious than mine. Her parents were told by their church to pray over her and everything would be ok.

As I’m sure you can imagine things were not ok. She lost her tenuous grip on reality and became unstable. She attacked her family while doing battle with a series of hallucinations that were telling her awful things about her parents and sisters. She took a sharp kitchen knife and went after her youngest sister (the middle one that I knew wasn’t home at the time) and stabbed her to death in the kitchen. Her father kept trying to defend his youngest child while trying to settle the eldest and he sustained serious injuries. The eldest followed him when he ran from the house to get help and she caught him from behind and stabbed him multiple times in the neck. He died on the front lawn. The mother was injured as well but appeared not to be the target of the eldest daughter’s hallucinations and she managed to survive.

The girl was taken down by tasers when the police arrived — they were called by neighbours who heard the commotion — and she was sent to a high security facility where she still is now. She was very obviously not in control of herself at the time so she avoided criminal charges and the mother moved away from the area.

I feel for the mother most; she essentially lost her whole family. The youngest and her husband had been killed and the middle child moved away eventually too, changing her surname when she got married and chose to disconnect from her mother. I know she blames her mum for what happened because she was the one who withheld the medication. I can imagine that the mum blames herself too.

When that happened it helped my mum to put my illness into perspective — if I’m treated properly, everything will be alright. It was a “there, but for the grace of God, go we” moment.

That was the worst crime that happened in our area for quite a while. Years before that there was a massacre (the Milperra Masacre, if you want to google it) between rival biker gangs who had, and continue to have, a presence in that particular suburb. Since then there was a child drowned during an exorcism after parents were told by a priest (or something) that the kid had a demon inside him and trying to force it out was the only way to save him…he was going through puberty, that’s all.”

26. “The kidnapping of Michael Dunahee. He is still just considered missing but its been 20+ years. You’d have to be pretty optimistic to believe he didn’t meet a horrible fate. He was just a small boy when taken and the incident absolutely ROCKED My small crime free city. It changed everything…parents kept a much more careful eye on us kids..many of our freedoms were taken away…I still feel sick when i think about what horrible things must’ve happened to that poor boy.”

27. “Growing up two brothers murdered their parents and put them in bags in the Attic. They did this because their parents would not let them go to a party nor own a cell phone, this was when cell phone were just becoming affordable for the upper middle class.”

28. “DEA bust next door, serial killers dumping ground five minutes from my house, and Sandy hook is within a 30 minutes drive.”

29. “We sold our house when I was 9 and moved a few miles away. The couple we sold the house to was nice enough, but a little odd. I don’t even know what it was, but even I noticed they were weird, and I was a little kid.

Fast forward about 12 years. I’m in college and these people have a son themselves. One day the man cornered his wife in the dining room and blew her head off with a shotgun. They had been having marital trouble prior to that but I’m not sure what exactly set him off. Kind of creepy to know that happened in my old house.”

30. “The girl who got stabbed by the two slenderman girls? My second cousin. My younger siblings actually played with her 2 weeks prior at a family gathering. Crazy.”

31. “Some kid beat another to kid to death with a bat over an argument that had to do with something related to weed. Mind you the population in my town is like 8,000. This was crazy.”

32. “Well, we’ve got a serial killer running around now – he’s killed seven people so far. (Referring to the current serial killer loose in Phoenix, Arizona).”

33. “I live in Downtown Dallas. I was packing for an international trip the night of the police shooting. I took note of the crowds after work and just made a mental note to “stay inside for awhile” after I got home. It wasn’t until I walked downstairs to get some tacos at around 10pm and a couple cops with sniper rifles were posted up in our lobby and told me to “get the fuck back upstairs, we are on lockdown!” that I realized some shit went down. What I witnessed that night and the following day really changed my perspective on a lot. They didn’t show the majority of it on the news. I have always been very supportive and stood behind a lot of social movements…but there is zero excuse for a 14 year old to spit on a cop, tell me I was a “Mexican bitch” that he “ought to rape,” loot a 7-11, or do any of the insane things that I saw.”

34. The Snowtown, Australia Murders

“In my city some guys went around torturing people to death and then dissolved their bodies in vats of acid. But they used the wrong type of acid (Not strong enough) and people complained of a foul smell, so the police investigated and found semi-liquified remains in barrels.”

35. “Two people ordered a pizza and killed the teenage driver because they wanted to know what it was like to kill a man.”

36. “The 10 mile radius around my childhood home is like catnip to serial killers and evil. BTK dumped one of his victims in a ditch a mile away from my house (before I was born,) the Carr Brothers murdered a group of 5 people in the soccer field 4-5 miles from my home (6th one survived because she wore a metal hair clip that caused the bullet to ricochet away from her head,) A man molested small children on the same street, the old lady that hated us kids ended up murdered by her own son (my mom was the one to find her since she started to smell the decomposing body and a family member asked her if she was willing to go in for her.)

Tons of crimes that never were recorded, gunshots going off in the dead of night, a scream that suddenly got cut short, we were just told to lay on the floor while my father paced the house with a shotgun until he felt it was safe.”

Read more: thoughtcatalog.com

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[thehikingviking]

Kumiva Peak via North Ridge, Selenite Range High Point

Kumiva Peak was a lingering peak that we did not climb on our previous visit to the Selenite Range a year prior. That trip took me, Asaka, Sean and Scott King up Mt Limbo and Purgatory Peak, and while we initially planned to cap off the day with Kumiva Peak, we audibled to climb Juniper Mountain instead, a slightly easier bonus peak across Kumiva Valley. Now we were back with a bigger group that included Scott Kelley, Brett Marciasini and the new kid on the block, Leif Casserly. We spent the night in Fernley, Nevada then drove to the designated meeting spot the next morning. We caught up with the Kings on our drive, and caravanned together to the starting point along Highway 447 at the dirt road turnoff.

We greeted everyone then drove east along the very good dirt road towards the pass. We spotted a herd of pronghorn antelope along the way, but so did some nearby hunters. We saw them double take and turn their trucks around. I think there should be a rule that if you are going to hunt an animal, you need to at least walk one mile before you can shoot it.

4.3 miles after leaving the freeway, we turned off into a small drainage. We drove up a few hundred yards along a rougher jeep track before stopping at an elevation of 6,100 ft. I tried to drive even further up the canyon but it wasn't worth it. A more capable vehicle might be able to reach the ridgeline. It was cold outside and I wondered if bringing the baby would be a bad idea. The entire route followed the north ridge, meaning we would be in the shade for most of the hike. This also meant that any snow along the route would probably not have melted. Asaka and I decided together that we would give it a try, knowing we could always run back down to the car if things got dicey. I also hoped that the morning sun would warm us up in due time. We started off up the drainage to the top of the ridge.

We then continued south along the top of the ridgeline. As with most big groups, there was a lot of chatting and recounting of past hikes. Scott King told us of his recent bout with the Corona virus, and I asked Scott Kelley many basic introductory questions, as this was our first time hiking together.

-Selenite Range

After a steep bit of snowy hiking, we eventually crested over an intermediate high point in the ridge, and Kumiva Peak came into view. It wasn’t that far away, but the snow gave it the character of a Tibetan Peak.

We picked a route that aimed to minimize elevation change.

As we climbed higher, snow became more prevalent, but it was enjoyable. It was soft and not very deep, which did little to add more difficulty to our hike.

As we encroached the last mile before reaching the summit, Leif suddenly became very upset. We were hiking in the shade, so I deduced that he was cold. I jogged across this section to get back into sunlight, but he remained upset. Asaka suggested that he was maybe hungry, so we took a family break while the others went on ahead.

Asaka urged me to go on without them, but I didn't want to leave my family, especially when we were so close to the summit. Asaka and I patiently waited on the snow for about twenty minutes while Leif filled his belly with warm milk. Once he was done, I strapped Leif to my chest once again, and we continued up the gully, which was reported to be a small meadow in warmer conditions.

We took the last 700 vertical feet head on, and the climb wasn't very enjoyable. The steepness, combined with slippery rocks hidden underneath the snow, made for a very tedious ascent. I followed the footprints of the others, but this didn't help much. Their steps often branched off from one another and climbed sections that were not suitable for someone carrying a baby.

As we climbed the final 100 feet, Leif became fussy again. Asaka was up ahead not giving us any regard, so I pushed through until I could get her attention. The others were waiting patiently for us at the top. They were kind enough to say that they hadn't been waiting long. To the south were Mt Limbo and Purgatory Peak.

To the west were Wind Benchmark and Poito Mountain; two possible bonus peaks for the afternoon. Beyond that was Pah-Rum Peak.

To the north were Granite Peak, Luxor Peak and Selenite Peak.

To the northeast was King Lear Peak, one of my favorite peaks in the Great Basin.

To the east were Star Peak and a striking lake.

To the southeast was Juniper Mountain.

-Cowel Benchmark

Leif seemed to be in a good mood once more. We let him crawl about while we sipped and snacked.

Once we had our fill, we began our walk down the peak, this time looking for a less snowy and steep path to a saddle towards our east.

I found the lake in Kumiva Valley to be quite remarkable, but it has no name to my knowledge. It is only listed as "Depression" on my topo map.

Once at the saddle, we followed a gentler route down to our snowy meadow.

From there our route down was more or less the same, with some minor route improvements.

With half a mile remaining, we ran across a father son duo that seemed somewhat unprepared for the hike. The son was not so talkative, but the father claimed they were headed to Kumiva Peak in an effort to climb the P2ks surrounding Reno. They were both wearing jeans and it was already late in the day.

Leif started to get upset once again. It must have just been one of those days. I hurriedly jogged down to a flat area with sunlight in case he was cold. Asaka again sat down to feed him.

With only a quarter mile left, Leif resumed his crying. I jogged back to the car while he cried the whole way. Once at the car, he calmed down immediately. Maybe he was simply tired of being carried. I felt a little embarrassed, fearing that I looked like a bad father during that last segment of the hike. Turning on the heater of the car solved all remaining discomforts. We all agreed to head across Poito Valley and investigate the two bonus peaks of Wind Benchmark and Poito Mountain which we spied from the summit of Kumiva Peak. There is a road all the way to Poito Mountain, so we went there first. I was able to drive to the top, but the others walked from the saddle. The road was very steep with nowhere to turn around, but my Jeep Grand Cherokee handled it without too much trouble. Across the valley stood Kumiva Peak.

-Luxor Peak

-Granite Peak

Pah-Rum Peak

-Wind Benchmark

-Purgatory Peak & Mt Limbo

We drove back down, passing the others who chose to walk up. I drove as close as I could to Wind Benchmark and thought long and hard about it, but time was short and my priority was to get Leif to the hotel room by his bed time. Perhaps I would have went for it if the peak didn't look like a terrible talus slog (Later feedback from Brett confirmed my assumption). In the end I decided to skip it, knowing that I would never finish all the P1ks in Nevada anyways. In the end it was the right decision because we were able to get back to town and have a nice dinner before Leif's bed time. Keeping his sleep schedule has been very important to both me and Asaka.

[thehikingnerd]

Day 114 (September 8, 2017).

We set off that morning down the road and soon got a text from Dixie saying her and a few others had gotten beds in the hostel/dorm room part at the Timberline lodge (the lodge used for all of the exterior and outdoor shots in the movie “The Shining”). Butt’rs and I talked over our options regarding how to proceed with our current fire closure information and decided to hike the PCT (actual, open trail) up Mt. Hood and to join the others at the lodge that evening.  We would then proceed to go around the west side of the mountain and take Lolo Pass Road to Hood River the next day. We finally met back up to the PCT and it felt great to get away from loud cars and semis of the highway. We ran into a 75 yr old man and chatted with him for a bit in a campsite before we started up the mountain. We saw beers left by someone for Dixie, but had missed her by a day or so we guessed since she hadn't seen them on her way through the previous morning and just left them there (note: from memory filled in years later here, this happened but not 100% if it was leading up to Mt. Hood for certain). We hiked up Mt. Hood and it was pretty amazing and beautiful. I stopped to get water and when I stepped on the bank part it gave way I fell over hurting my ankle again which made the rest of my climb slow and painful.  It was just starting to do better too. Stopped alone and it was quiet with a solitary  crow cawing as the timberline lodge came into view: appropriately eerie for the occasion. We made it to the lodge and it was kinda pricey for a thru-hiker, but it had nice showers and a decent room with six bunk beds occupied only by hikers and friends we already knew, so was worth it in the end. We first met up with Milestone and Perk; they walked up as Butt’rs and I were getting our keys. Dixie had returned to the room by the time I had gotten back from those nice showers. Milestone’s boyfriend then showed up, and we right away took his car with a shopping list of booze to get and headed down the mountain toward the small cluster of shops and restaurants a short distance below. Butt'rs drove (and I rode shotgun) absolutely flying down the winding roads to the liquor store before they closed at 8pm. We grabbed burritos at the Mexican restaurant near the liquor store and then raced to get back to the lodge before Butt'rs' friends arrived. They showed up and hung out for a bit in the room until the others returned from dinner. Then I went with Perk, Dixie, Milestone and her BF up to the outdoor hot tub. We got a little drunk and explored the hotel. Pretty creepy J, especially at night. I stepped outside into mist and saw the full moon, but it soon disappeared behind some clouds. I then got a message from Butt'rs on my phone that read, “si si siiii”. He was saying “si” and in the Spanish word for “yes” in a group text, but to me in this eerie/creepy atmosphere, alone outside in the misty night, I saw it and immediate thought of Chinese (which I’m more familiar with as a second language) where “si” means “die”. So after sketchily receiving a message that could be interpreted as “die,die, diiiieee!”, I turned and tried to go back inside the lodge, but the doors were locked! Not gonna lie, it was kind of freaky for a minute before a lady asked my name and room number via an intercom before buzzing me in. I joined the others and we all hung out just having a good time before finally going to sleep.