#this is the longest I've ever written

[elusivedew]

💌 | Cubitum eamus ?

✧ synopsis ⤐ it takes you 2 years from the minute you meet spencer to confess how much you like him, and it all happens on a random wednesday night.

✧ contains ⤐ friends to lovers but they both know what's up, s3 spencer who's been through a handful of shit, brief mention of alcohol consumption on two occasions!!suggestive themes but no straight up smut, spencer reid experiences happiness for once, reader is his only hope in life, reader wants him real bad and he knows. My spencer reid debut yay! Title translates to "will you go to bed with me?" w.c ~ 9.2k

Working at the BAU is not an easy job. In fact, Spencer thinks, working at any unit in the FBI is the closest thing you'll ever get to hell on earth. This feeling of agitation and exhaustion seems to aggravate every time he's working on a particularly draining case. Not only does the content of the cases get into his head often, and sometimes into his dreams, but he's also been directly harmed by the criminals they’re chasing. How can you remain completely objective about something when you become a victim too?

Over the few years he's worked in the BAU, he's received more harm than he ever expected. Drug addiction was not something he had in his five-year plan when he first joined the FBI. It's not something anyone who works in law enforcement expects, really. 

Needless to say, he's tired. The kind of fatigue that makes you bedridden for days. 

He also happens to be alone on a Tuesday night in the middle of June. 

The latest case he worked on took a little over two weeks to wrap up, an unsub that likes to take his time and has such a disorganized MO that it was almost impossible to see the patterns. All the physical and mental work completely knocked everyone off their feet, except for him. His colleagues all went home and passed out of exhaustion, and he’s still up. 

Spencer can't sleep. He's too busy thinking. 

It's something he does a lot, for his job, for himself, for the duration of his whole life. The gears have been turning in his head since his very first word, the minute ‘mama’ was out of his baby mouth, he’d been tasked with the weight of the whole fucking universe. The price of knowing so much from a young age has cost him a lot. And tonight, it specifically costs him his peace, his right to pass out after a long day of work. 

And he'd love, more than anything, to have an off button somewhere inside. But because that hasn't been invented yet, and his nervous system feels like it's on fire, he's still up by the time it's 10 pm. It’s not late, objectively, but he’s been home for more than three hours now. He tried a lot of sleep remedies— herbal tea, audiobooks, aroma therapy, hell, even exercising to tire himself out, but all of them failed. And now he's just left with sore muscles and an even more tired brain. 

By the time it's 11 pm, he's lying on his couch, feeling like death. His head is pounding with the feeling of an oncoming migraine, and he knows that he’s in for a particularly long night.

That's when his phone rings, and because he’s so alert and so sensitive to stimuli at the moment, he almost kicks it off the coffee table. But he doesn’t do that, because he’s still a little sane despite everything.

Instead, he reaches over and checks the contact name, and his whole face lights up. He feels absolutely ridiculous for not making this call first, because his nervous system is now very much alive— and not in a way that makes him feel like an overheating microwave, no, this is a good thing. And good things don’t happen to him often. He runs his hand through his hair, a nervous habit, and picks up the call. 

Suddenly being awake doesn't feel so bad. 

“Agent Reid.”

Your voice comes through the phone like a cool breeze of air during the grueling heat of June. He finds himself relaxing a little, releasing tension he didn't know he had in his muscles when he was so distracted just a few minutes before.

“I'm begging you to stop calling me that.” 

“Aww, why not? I like feeling like your boss,” you're smiling on the other end, he can hear it, “what's his name again? Aaron?” 

He rubs his temple with a smile he can't fight off, “That's agent Hotchner to you.” 

You laugh and he feels proud of himself for eliciting such a pleasant sound out of you. He's immediately thinking of other ways to get that sound out again. If Morgan could see him now, he'd never let him hear the end of it. 

The good thing about you and Spencer is that no one knows. Not his colleagues, not your friends, not your families. That's the good thing, you get to keep this precious thing between the two of you. The bad thing is that you're not really together. You're not even romantically involved, you've never uttered the four-letter L-word around each other (like or love, both), and you don't even really flirt with each other. 

To put it into simple words, you and Spencer are just friends. 

But friends who relieve each other's stress nonetheless, and god knows Spencer needs that right now. 

“You're back from your recent trip, right?” You ask, audibly crunching on something. It sounds like you're also lying on your couch, he wonders if you were going through something similar when you decided to pick up the phone and call.

“Yeah, thank god.” 

“I take it that it wasn't a very good one then? I mean, none of them are good but, I'm guessing some are worse than others.” 

Spencer sighs, “You guess correctly.” 

“How are you feeling?” Your voice is softer when you ask, concerned, and even though he doesn't like to make you worry, your well-intended question is a very welcome sentiment. He’s almost relieved knowing that there's someone who'll always ask, someone who'll always notice. 

“Not very good. Tired.” It's a short answer, but he knows you understand. You've understood him for a very long time now, nearly two years of knowing each other. 

“It sounds like you had a very long day.” A very long month. “Why didn't you try to catch some Zs?” 

The way you phrase it makes him snort, and he knows you're proud of yourself for that one. “I can't, me and the Zs never had a very good relationship. Trust me, if I could turn my brain off, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” 

You hum, “Do you wanna talk about it? I could give you some very valuable, life-changing insight, maybe you'll be able to go to sleep after.” 

He smiles, “I've actually had enough of this case, I'd like to talk about something else.” 

“Oh, I can definitely do that. Tell me, what did you have for breakfast?” 

Breakfast is a terrible topic, meals in general, because you know that he misses a lot of his meals when he's on the job. You always lecture him for it, berating him for being so skinny at his big age, but it's always underlined by concern. He knows you worry about him, he wouldn't blame you. 

“Not much…” He trails off, knowing you'll catch on. 

“Oh honey, I know your eating and sleeping habits are fucked, but can't you at least lie to me?” 

The way you call him honey should not be making his stomach turn like that. 

“I could never lie to you.” 

“You literally just did.” 

You both laugh and he's so, so glad you called. If he didn't think you were asleep he'd have called you first. 

“Okay well, I didn't ask that question to find out something I already know. I asked because remember that café we were constantly visiting before you went on this trip? They finally brought the chocolate chip cookies back.” 

The chocolate chip cookies case (the quadruple c) is a very vital issue in your relationship with Spencer. Because for weeks, the both of you have been visiting that place close to your apartment, hoping to get some chocolate chip cookies, only to be met by raisins. It was a very devastating experience for both of you, having to settle for something else on the menu every time. But now it’s okay! The chocolate chip cookies are back. 

Spencer is so glad he's done with his silly criminal case so he can focus on the real problems at hand.

“And I was thinking, if you're not too tired tomorrow, should we have breakfast together?” 

It's sweet, it's earnest, it's you.

It's such a characteristic gesture, asking him to have breakfast with you after particularly draining cases, checking on him as soon as you can tell he's home, and sounding so sweet and concerned over the phone when you know he's feeling down. It’s the small, thoughtful actions coming from you that have helped him keep it together so far. 

And the feelings that thought brings out in him lead him to realize, in those few seconds, that he liked you much more than he planned on. Not that he ever planned to like you in the first place, but he thought it was a small crush that would eventually go away, it’s happened before with the pretty women he befriends, and he didn’t think this time would be different. 

But it was, and now he’s totally screwed because he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to say no to you. 

“Absolutely, I can't wait to have those chocolate cookies again.” 

You're ecstatic over his response, your tone picking up about 3 octaves when you jump to discussing the other plans you have this week. Your favorite artist is releasing an album soon, your favorite game is finally available at the video game store, the finale of that show you've been talking to him about is airing in two days, and it seems like your life is full of positive sequences.

The juxtaposition between what he sees at work and the enthusiasm you bring into his life almost gives him a headache, but it could very well be sleep deprivation. He wonders if all the misfortunes that have happened to him are the evil equivalents of the things you brought into his life. 

But if all the bad things that have happened to him and around him got compensated by you, he doesn't find it such a bad tradeoff. Because meeting you on a random Monday night and somehow catching your attention enough for you to leave him your number— even when he was so frazzled by the need for coffee so he could grind out some paperwork before his deadline— it feels like he used up all his luck on that fateful encounter.

And having someone he could always meet up with, outside of work, has been very grounding. 

You talk his ears off for the rest of the night, rambling about one thing or the other until his eyelids get heavy again, and he feels tired enough to sleep. You tell him that's been your plan all along and wish him a good night. 

Later, when he’s under the covers of his bed, drifting off to sleep, for a few minutes his brain isn't aggravating him with the thoughts that have been haunting him all day. For a few minutes, all he can think about is you.

He is so fucked.

Emily Prentiss is a very smart agent. 

She’s been told that ever since she was a little girl, and though it was often complimentary, people sucking up to her mom and whatnot, it was never a complete lie. She grew up thirsty for knowledge, mastering everything she could get her hands on, and even as an adult with a grown up job, she continues to excel at what she does

But then, if she's so smart, why the hell can she not figure out why Spencer Reid is so giddy while doing his paperwork? 

It may have to do with the fact that it's Spencer, and that kid has always been a little perplexing to her. He's bright and brilliant, but she could never truly understand how his mind works. But, at the same time, there's such a thing as habits, and Spencer is not typically so smiley while doing paperwork. No one is smiley while doing paperwork in this line of work, because it makes you relive the nightmares. For goodness’s sake, this is the behavioral analysis unit, and Spencer is behaving weirdly. 

It seems like she isn’t the only agent at the office who noticed the peculiarity. Agent Morgan stands behind her, his third cup of coffee in his hand, squinting at the young doctor. They observe him like a wild animal in his natural habitat; had they not been so tired from all the work, they would’ve been picking on him by now.

When Emily feels her presence behind him, she turns around, and they exchange a mutual look of understanding. They've never seen Reid act like that in the time that they’ve worked together, and they know one thing that they've never seen him experience during that time either. 

They realize it at the same time, and Morgan nearly drops his coffee. 

Spencer Reid is in love.

There have been many misfortunes in the 25 years that you've been on this earth, and you're convinced that a lot of them have been aimed at you. You're the only person who has ever suffered that much during your whole life, it's a known fact. It's a fact that you like to remind Spencer of, to make him feel better about his work, and when he laughs at it, you remind him that people called Jesus a liar too.

You've been through a lot of suffering, but the task of getting dressed before Spencer knocks on your door in approximately ten minutes may just be the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

He thinks that just because he has a day off, he could pressure you into a sudden— very much unplanned— date? He thinks that shooting you a text to get dressed so you can go to the record store and then have dinner only twenty minutes before you're supposed to do the aforementioned activities is allowed? He's absolutely right, and you hate him for it. 

Not that it's really a date, you know you and Spencer have never crossed that line, but it feels like it. Especially if he's making you feel like a teenage girl high on hormones having her very first crush. Her very first date. The particular action you're thinking about has to be kept to yourself, just so you don't jinx it. 

You really shouldn't be thinking about that when you still haven't figured out which outfit to wear. More thinking about clothes, less thinking about boys. Specifically one boy. 

It takes all your willpower and energy to finish getting ready in those ten minutes. You settle for your most comfortable pair of jeans and a white button-down with a vest over it, and for good measure, you throw your coat on— the long beige-brown trench coat that makes you feel like you're Sherlock Holmes about to solve a crime. You realize that it's very fitting for an outing with a profiler, he's kind of like Sherlock Holmes if you think about it. 

It's fall now, and it's much more chilly. You hope your precious profiler brought his own coat because, as much as you care for him, you won't be lending him yours.

When he rings your doorbell, you're finishing up and tossing the rest of the necessities into your bag. You make him wait for a minute, to avoid seeming eager, and then make your way to the door.

The minute you lay your eyes on him, you feel sick to your stomach.

Spencer Reid is beautiful, this is a fact that you've known ever since you met. He pulls off the dorky yet hot look so well, with that stupid smile of his when he talks like a smartass. And you're reminded of this every time you see him, the fact that he's so adorable that it physically hurts to keep your hands off him all the time. Tonight is no different, he's dressed in a dark button-down with a brown vest over it, covered by a beige coat that contrasts the dark colors beautifully. It takes you a couple seconds to realize you're wearing similar outfits, almost like a matching couple.

“Copycat.” You accuse, fighting off a smile with warm cheeks. He grins in retaliation, “Hello to you too.”

God, he’s beautiful. In the dim light of your apartment's entrance, you catch the gleam of his eyes. They're warm, earthy, and familiar, you don't think you'd ever stop staring at his eyes if you had the chance to do it without looking crazy. His eyelashes are unfairly long, and his light brown hair forms waves around his face like a frame around an artwork. He always tucks a few stray strands behind his ear, and you always mess it up for him– which is something you do for two reasons, you like annoying him, and you desperately want to touch his hair. It’s just simply unfair for him to be born that beautiful. 

He seems to notice you staring because his cheeks are a little pink, and he has a little bashful smile on his face. “Ready to go?” He scans your form like the little detective he is, “Looks like you could get ready in 20 minutes after all.” 

Now you remember why you were so annoyed at him, good looks be damned. 

“Oh shut up, never do that again.” 

“Or what? You'll cuss me over text messages again? How will I ever live with that.” 

His shy smile is replaced with a smug grin, and you hate to admit it, but it's one of your favorite looks on him. Because Spencer isn't always able to genuinely smile like that, he's usually stressed about one thing or the other; and knowing him, he's always reliving some terrible event that happened in the past two years, and sometimes even further back in time. So while his amusement comes at your expense, you'd rather see him smiling like this all the time. 

“God, you're so mean to me.” 

Even though you mean to sound stern, you can't hide your smile. 

You pick up your keys from the hanger by the door and toss them into your handbag, he follows your movements with his eyes, “that's not true. I'm always so nice to you, sometimes a little too nice.” 

You lock your door behind you and give him a fake offended look, “You could never be too nice to me. Let's go, agent Reid. We've got a long night ahead of us.” 

Then you're strutting ahead of him, motioning for him to follow you like a helpless little intern. Even though he rolls his eyes and laughs in disbelief, he ends up following you anyway.

‘Albert’s records’ has been your favorite record store since you moved into your apartment in Quantico— and not only because you’ve met Albert, the sweetest little old man to ever exist, but also because Spencer always looks mystified inside the store. It’s like something about vintage things just makes him tick. 

You're checking out vinyls that are selling for discounted prices, old pieces of famous artists and commonly known albums, while he's looking at the posters on the walls, admiring the artistic work of the rustic-looking store. He’s always trailing behind you, and you don't mind because it makes you feel safe and cared for. You didn't know being trailed by an FBI agent could feel so comforting. 

Your eyes catch on a certain record, and you turn around, “Hey, Spencer.” 

He stops eyeing the posters on the wall and turns to you, hair falling over his shoulders adorably. 

“What do you think of this?” 

You're holding a classic black Billy Joel vinyl in your hand, careful not to hold it too tightly. It's his 1977 release of The Stranger, an album you're not too familiar with. You've only listened to Vienna and a few other songs. Spencer eyes the cover carefully like it triggers a memory deep inside his brain. You're expecting him to go on a tangent about Billy Joel and 70s music, but you're instead met by a very sentimental response. 

“My mom loved that one.” 

He's quiet, using that careful but lost tone of voice, and you worry that you accidentally triggered something unpleasant. You knew Spencer had a complicated relationship with his parents, namely his mother. On the rare occasion where he had a few too many drinks, he spilled a lot more than he intended to. Drunk Spencer was always so painfully honest and you admired how easily his filter would come off a few drinks in, but you never wanted him to feel embarrassed by it. On those particularly emotional nights— after he calls you to pick him up because he's too drunk to drive— you would listen to him ramble the whole drive to your apartment, force him to stay over so you can take care of his pounding headache in the morning, and hold him until he passes out on your couch like a partying college student. 

Something he’s never been before.

Those incidents have led you to know more about Spencer than he ever thought he could share, and one of those sensitive topics just happens to be his mom. It's not an uncomfortable topic, you've talked about it before when he's not too drunk to realize what's going on. Even though it was hard for him at first, talking about it became easier the more he shared, you understood more and more things without him telling you. 

And because you’ve talked about it, you're not scared of his response when you ask with a lighthearted smile, “is that a bad thing?” 

That seems to bring him back to earth, and he gives you a reassuring smile, “No, not at all, just brought me back to some memories I'd honestly forgotten about.” 

You hold the record to your chest, almost certain that you're going to buy it now, “Well would you like to make some new memories in relation to this record?” 

Would you like to come to my apartment and listen to it with me?

“Yeah, I'd love to.” He smiles in a way that makes you feel a little lightheaded, knowing he's comfortable sharing this much of himself with you. It's so intimate, knowing that in this public store, you're still sharing private moments that no one else knows about.

You’re about to go back to checking out vinyls, trying to conceal the giddy feeling bubbling in your chest, when a high-pitched voice intrudes on the moment you were having with Spencer. 

“Oh my god.” 

You both turn to look at the source of the voice and when you look to Spencer to see what this is about, he looks like he recognizes the source. He looks terrified. Your gaze falls on two blonde girls, one gaping at the sight of you, and the other being the source of the dramatic reaction that broke through the silence a few minutes ago.

Her blonde hair is styled in waves and she's wearing such a colorful, creative ensemble that you're mesmerized by the intricate details of her outfit. The hair clips, the makeup, the platforms that she's wearing, you wanted to talk to this girl so bad. 

And it seems like you're in luck today, because she's immediately rushing to your side with wide mesmerized eyes.

“Wonderboy, you've been hiding her from us for how long exactly?” 

You're guessing “wonderboy” is Spencer since she seems to be his friend and your chest feels warm knowing his friends nickname him such cute things. Spencer deserves to be known for all his good traits after all, and he sure as hell is your boy of wonder. 

“Garcia, please, I'm begging you to act normal about this right now.” He mutters, trying his best to keep this conversation quiet.

She shakes her head, “This is the most normal I can act about you hiding a girl from us.” Then she turns to you again, extending her arm for you to shake. You eagerly extend yours back. “Penelope Garcia, tech analyst at the FBI, and genius boy's co-worker. Oh and, your source for any dirt you want on genius Reid over here.” 

That explains how someone like her is in Spencer's social circle, but it doesn't explain how someone so bubbly could work at such a gloomy unit. Working for the government when she should be at the club? It's a crime to you. 

“They're keeping a gem like you in a dark, creepy room to dig up information for them?” 

You honestly didn't know you could commit such flattery and Spencer is looking at you in disbelief, but she giggles at your poorly concealed flirting and you feel proud of yourself. 

“Oh, wonder boy, how did you ever snag a wonderful girl like her.” 

Spencer is blushing so hard at this point you could probably fry an egg on his face. You're introducing yourself to Penelope, filling her in on your occupation, when the other blonde introduces herself as Jennifer Jareau, JJ for short, and she's even more excited to meet you. 

She's also heavily pregnant, and you hope that she's currently on maternity leave. 

“We were looking for more records that this little guy here could listen to, it's incredibly engaging to include him in our vinyl pick-out process.” JJ rubs her stomach as she explains and you're so fascinated by the idea of childbearing and birth for a few seconds that you almost forget that it's terrifying. 

“What about you guys?” Penelope jumps in, eager to put Spencer on the spot again. 

“Oh we, uh,” Spencer's eyes shift between you and the two girls, like he's surrounded and begging you for help, “we're just checking out the vinyls on sale.” 

“Yeah, I was honestly waiting for these discounts because I'm not selling a kidney for some records, you know?” You step in, hoping to take some heat off Spencer, because the poor boy looks like he’s about to combust.

You're also well aware that the two girls in front of you think you and Spencer are dating, but they haven't said it out loud and Spencer hasn't attempted to correct their assumptions, so why would you be the one to ruin their fun? You'll let them think you're on a date. 

“Oh that's so true,” Penelope nods in understanding, “it's like I just want to listen to music, you know?” 

You nod in understanding, you do know. 

And you also know that you're absolutely going to adore Penelope Garcia and JJ and everyone that you meet who’s involved in Spencer's life. Even though this meetup is so completely unplanned and coincidental, it makes you excited knowing you can prod Spencer about more details now, talking about work in a way that doesn't concern the cases. You’d kill for some office gossip that doesn’t involve yourself.

“Oh, Morgan is going to lose it when he hears about this,” JJ says, almost talking to herself. 

Penelope jumps to add more wood to the forest fire, “Oh my God, remember what he said to Emily? He was right.” That catches Spencer's attention, “what did he say to Emily?” 

“He said that you're all giggly at work because you're in love.” Penelope answers without missing a beat, and she says it so casually, as if she didn't basically strip Spencer naked right in front of you. 

You’re subtly stealing glances at him from the corner of your eye, suppressing a smile at the way he blushes deeply and looks at the ground as if he wants it to swallow him whole right now. Something tells you you're absolutely going to love Penelope and he's going to pay the price for that relationship. 

“Spencer is giggling at work?” You ask, like she just told you he joined a cult.

Penelope nods eagerly, “Oh yeah, I've never seen someone look so cheerful while doing paperwork, every time I'm out of my office for a coffee refill he's just there giggling to himself like he's hearing voices. Except the voices turned out to just be a pretty girl, which I have to say,” she puts her hand over her heart dramatically, “I’m so glad it did.” 

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, the shame overwhelming him, “I'm begging you to stop talking.” 

Penelope and JJ are giggling, enjoying torturing him like this for your pleasure, and you’re close to joining them, but you choose to stay loyal to Spencer— if only to make sure he doesn’t get a migraine from all this embarrassment. But you're also just giddy, knowing Spencer cannot conceal his infatuation with you to save his life. Despite all the hints here and there that he definitely likes you, and all the discreet touching and staring at your lips when you talk —something you know he can't tell you noticed— the way he doesn't deny any of what's being said tells you that you're, at the very least, a person of interest. 

A person of Spencer's interest. Your smile is getting harder and harder to hide.

“Okay, okay, lovebirds, we'll leave you alone now. But trust me, you haven't heard the end of this, once Derek finds out, oh Spencer Reid, you might never want to step foot in that building ever again.” You nod eagerly, excited to hear more about how they’ll taunt him later on. They give you their rushed goodbyes as Penelope guides JJ outside the store, you can hear her quietly complain about leaving empty-handed when she came all the way, but your mind is someplace else, neurons buzzing with ideas of how to torment Spencer now that you’re alone again.

You turn to look at him, no longer holding back your smile, “so…” 

He immediately puts a finger to your lips, “Don't start.” 

You reach for his hand to move it away, giggling like a schoolgirl, “you're fawning over me at work? Oh my God, Spence, I didn't know you were that far gone, baby.” You hold onto his hand, as a way to restrain him, but also because you just want to hold his hand. 

“I was not fawning, they made it all sound so much worse than it actually was.” You raise your eyebrows at him and he continues, looking more flustered. “I was smiling, can I not smile to myself anymore?” 

You absentmindedly lace your fingers with his, bringing your joint hands to your chest like something precious, “You're smiling like a lovesick fool about me at work, Spencer, you're so fucked.” 

Your amusement is so palpable, and your cheeks hurt from smiling, but there’s also something else there.

Something you haven’t fully experienced before, not its rawness and neediness. Something that you can tell will grow in your chest until it fully conquers your whole body and claims your mind. You don't know what you'll call it yet, but it's something a lot like love. 

“Alright alright, I get it. It's National Embarrassing Spencer day, let's buy this record and get out of here. We have a dinner to get to.” 

The weight of his hand in yours almost made you forget you were still holding the record, handling it so carelessly just to bring him closer. You realize you're drunk on affection, and eager to have more of his attention for the rest of the night. When he doesn't make a move to remove his hand from your hold, only dragging you behind him to check out, you feel like there will be a lot of new developments tonight.

The rest of the night goes as well as you would imagine.

Despite your incessant teasing, you have plenty of conversations that aren't centered around embarrassing Spencer and enjoying it. You sip wine together while he tells you about the letters he's been sending his mom; apparently, he's started telling her about you. While you're surprised he's only just doing it now, he confesses that he wanted to wait until he was sure you'd stay before he made such a decision. Unfortunately, with his line of work, he's right to be worried about things like that, but you stayed anyway, and now his mom knows about you. 

And you have her favorite record in a plastic bag that you carry on the way home. 

When his car pulls up to your building, you're hesitant to get out. You don't feel like the night is over yet. It was lovely and unforgettable, meeting his friends, learning about his mom, and having a very nice dinner together, but you feel like there's still one more topic that needs to be discussed. 

When you don't make a move to get out of the car yet, he calls out your name in concern. You turn to look at him and your gaze is so intense he's almost intimidated.

“Is everything okay?” 

You nod absentmindedly, too lost in trying to figure out what's missing from such a wonderful night. 

“Well, we're here. This is your apartment, you know?” You can tell that's not the sentence he aimed for, but you're aware that Spencer stumbles over his words when he's nervous. You don't fault him for it. 

You give him a genuine smile, “Yeah, I know.” 

Then you're moving to unlock the car door, the newly bought record in your hand, and you get one leg out of the car before you realize exactly what this night is missing. 

“Spencer?” You turn to him, he's already looking at you. 

“Yes?” 

Slowly, carefully, you ask, “would you like to come upstairs?” 

Your apartment is somewhere that he's only seen while extremely drunk, hammered out of his mind. You realize that this is the first time you invite him up when he's actually well enough to walk on his own, and you also realize that it means something to you. You hope it also means something to him. 

“Uh, yeah, sure? If you want me to walk you to your door, I'll definitely do that.” He's picking at the leather covering the wheel, cheeks slightly flushed like they’d been earlier. Multiple times during the night, you note how he’s always glowing red around you like a pulsating organ. Is it the slight chill of the weather or the heat behind your eyes? You hope it’s the latter. 

“I think you know what you want.” 

You weren't sure if he knew, but knowing Spencer, a line like that will trigger him into thinking about it so hard that he'll actually figure it out. You watch the gears turn in his head but he still looks confused, you hope that by the time you get to your door, he'll realize what you're talking about. 

“I'm not sure, but I'll figure it out.” You give him one last smile before you exit the car. 

True to his word, Spencer walks you up to your door after parking his car somewhere close. When you reach the apartment, as you dig for your keys in your purse, he stands next to you, looking a little lost because he clearly didn’t expect this. He fiddles with the ends of his vest while observing you. 

You unlock your door and get inside, leaving it open so he can follow you. You drop your purse on your dining table and lay the record down next to it, watching from the corner of your eye as he steps into your apartment cautiously, like he's stepping over booby traps. 

The door locks and you can't escape the conversation any longer. You also can't bear seeing him so lost, because god blessed him with eyes that make him look like a sad baby deer all the time. And every time he uses them on you, you immediately cave, because letting him suffer feels like letting a baby animal die.

“Spence.” You call, sultry and slow.

If you catch the way he slightly jumps at your voice, you don’t react.

“Yes?” He’s quiet, worried.

You lean back against your table, a relaxed smile on your face, “you know why I brought you here, right?”  

He swallows, tucking his hair behind his ear. “A woman inviting her date up to her apartment could lead to a variety of things, but most commonly it leads to either sexual intercourse or murder.” His cheeks heat up at the words ‘sexual intercourse’ and you want to eat him alive. “And I'm kind of hoping you didn't invite me up here to kill me.” 

You raise an eyebrow, the desire to tease him so strong and unforgiving, “So you hope I'll have sex with you then?” 

That really gets him. His whole face goes red— blood rushing down his neck and up to his ears. He opens his mouth to say something, but he can't. Instead, he just opens and closes it a couple of times, unable to articulate anything. If you were in a different situation, you'd have called him a fish, but you also realize something very critical: he doesn’t deny your previous statement.

“Spencer,” you call his whole name this time, voice low and heavy with something that alarms him further. “Can you come here, please?” 

He hesitantly leaves his spot, taking slow, careful steps to your side. He stands at a considerable distance, making sure he gives you your personal space. If he’d done this at any other time, you’d have been fawning over how considerate he is, but right now you want him as close as possible, personal space be damned. 

Feeling particularly brash, you reach out and pull him closer by a fistful of his shirt. He’s startled, but he lets you move him closer as if he were a rag doll, now you're barely a few inches away from him. Your hand moves to his neck, feeling the warmth that spread there a few minutes ago, the warmth that you caused. If it feels like it's getting warmer under your touch, you don't comment on it. 

It's the first time you've touched him this much, this intimately, and it feels like you've been missing out for the past two years. 

He watches you carefully, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to figure out what you're aiming for. This is probably how he acts at work, you think, staring at something until he’s able to break it open and decipher its message, will he decipher your message too?

You look up at him through long lashes, peering into his eyes, hoping to communicate something with your eyes before you can put it into words. You feel a certain need in your stomach, tying knots and constricting your airways— it's what you guess people would call butterflies. Right now, you'd call it absolutely torture. 

“Spencer.”

It's the third time you've called his name so far, and this time your noses are touching and you practically breathe his name onto his lips. This encourages him to put an arm around your waist and raise the other to cup your face affectionately. You lean into his touch, welcoming the reciprocation.

“I'm here,” his voice is low, more certain now, almost like he figured you out, “you can tell me.” 

You nearly melt in his hands now that he's using that self-assured voice. You love it when he's shy, but god do you adore it when he talks like he knows exactly what to do with you. The things you'd let him do to you would probably get you placed on a watch list, but you don't mind as long as he's the one watching. 

“You know what I want to say, don't you?” 

He blinks, the gold flakes in his eyes so striking when you're this close, “maybe I do, but I'd like to hear you say it.” 

He's in no place to be making such demands. He should be melting in your hands, not the other way around. You shouldn't be getting this weak at the knees just because he's using that stupid husky tone, sounding like he knows all your secrets. But, fuck, he absolutely knows all your secrets. He could probably read you like an open book— which you actually wouldn't mind at all because you've seen the way his hands stroke the pages when he's reading, and you'd love for those fingers to be all over you like they're all over those stupid books.

Your eyes glaze over with desire and you're getting impatient, while he watches you like he's studying your next move. Goddamn profilers and their dirty work. He should be getting dirty with you.

You mutter a quiet fuck and step back to separate your bodies; even though there's no place to go because the table is right there, you're at least not directly face to face anymore. His warm breath on your lips was driving you insane, and you brought him up here to talk, you needed to have this conversation. For your sanity. 

He gives you space, because he's always been so caring and so perceptive about what you need, and the gesture makes you want to bounce on him. You have to remind yourself that if you keep thinking with your lower regions, this will be a counterproductive night.

You realize you can't do this while standing up, so you hoist yourself up on the table, and wiggle around till you get comfortable. Your trench coat isn't bending to your will and it takes you some more shuffling to beat it down. You really should've taken it off when you stepped in through the door. 

The sound of Spencer's chuckle makes you realize that he's still here and he's very much observing your embarrassing fight with a trench coat. Your cheeks feel warm, but this is not the most shameful thing you've done tonight, and you're probably aiming to beat that record anyway. 

“Don't laugh at me,” you mutter, embarrassed but smiling. 

“Okay,” he laughs, “I won't.” 

“God, you're such a liar. Is everybody at the FBI full of lies?” 

He shrugs, “Depends on who you ask.” 

You laugh and you're so in awe at how all the stress leaves your body so easily when he's talking to you, it makes you wonder why the hell you can't just say it. One sentence, something he already knows, something anyone would probably know by observing you for five minutes, it should be easy. But as obvious as it is, you're also well aware that once you say it, it becomes real. And you can't escape It. You can't pretend like it's something casual between you if you get your heart broken, or if he feels like you're moving too fast. The minute those words are out of your mouth, you'll have to confront the reality of your situation. 

And you're scared. 

You're scared that once you say those words and it becomes a real living thing, you could actually lose Spencer. You could get into an argument later and it ruins everything between you, or he could fall out of love, or you could fall out of love. There are so many bad endings to a relationship and the possibilities make you hesitate. 

Spencer must've noticed that you're taking a while to speak, that you're too busy stressing out about it, because he comes close again (leaving enough space for the holy spirit this time) to gently hold your hand. It works like he intends it to. The skin-to-skin contact is grounding and you relax a little, wishing you could just melt into him and never have to go through any uncomfortable conversations.

But when you look up at him, and you're met with the familiar trustworthy eyes of the guy who has been your god-given solace for months now, you wonder how the hell you could ever rethink taking a chance on him. 

Even if the risk is terrifying and you're scared of ruining things, you know Spencer would be worth the try. Plus, fantasizing about a reality where it works out and you get married in a few years is actually much more fun than thinking about impending doom. 

You don't want the world to end before you tell Spencer the raw truth of your feelings, and not through subtle gestures or sneaky glances, you want him to hear the whole thing. 

You squeeze his hand for one final reassurance. He smiles and squeezes your hand back. 

“Spencer, I've got something very important to tell you.” 

Slow and stead. 

“I'm listening.” 

You lick your lips. 

“Okay well, remember how I told you a few months ago that there were currently no guys who were interested in me?” 

He nods.

“Well, I lied.” 

He raises his eyebrows, amused at the route you're taking, “oh yeah?” 

You nod, swallowing heavily, “Yeah, yes. There was this… guy at my job, he doesn't work there anymore because he got transferred because of ‘new chances’ or whatever, but he was working with me this time last year, you know? Anyways, he'd get really close to me whenever we were handling the same task, not in a sexual harassment way but in an ‘I have a crush on you’ way. And I realized that he was interested in me because he kept dropping hints and I'm, surprisingly, not that oblivious. I can tell when a guy likes me. He actually asked me out once to this new donut place near the office, but I declined because he has really bad table manners to be honest and, god I'm glad he's not working with us anymore because he'd hog all the coffee and we could barely find anything to drink by the end of the day— but that's not the only reason I rejected him, I actually rejected him because… because I couldn't imagine going out with anyone else who wasn't you, and I guess what I'm trying to say is- that's when I realized that I like you, Spencer. And I've liked you for almost a year now.” 

You're out of breath by the time it's all out, but incredibly relieved. You look up at Spencer and he has this amused twinkle in his eyes and a very dumb smug smirk on his face. Once you're fully and completely done with your little speech, the first thing he does is laugh.

You're so offended you immediately take your hand away from his and slap his chest, “Don't fucking laugh, I just confessed my feelings for you.” You hit him some more, but he won't stop laughing, “Spencer, this is so fucking rude, oh my god, just reject me like a lady if you're going to mock me like this.” 

He catches your hand before you land another weak punch on his arm, and you have very little time to react before he reaches forward, cupping your face with his other hand and joining your lips for a long-awaited kiss. 

You've fantasized about the way he kisses for a very long time. After you’d heard about his little make-out session with that actress in the pool, it took everything in your body to resist asking him to take you next. You've thought about kissing him nearly every night when you were falling asleep, he was even haunting some of your dreams like a fiend, kissing you like his life depended on it, only for you to wake up to the cruel, harsh reality of never having kissed Spencer Reid.

But that reality is different now. 

He uses both his hands to cup your face and angles your head just right to get as much contact as possible. He tastes like the wine you've been drinking all night and smells like cedar wood and sage. God, even when kissing you he has to smell like a perfect little herbal garden? You'd get mad at him if his lips moving against yours weren't melting away every ounce of sophistication you have in your body. 

You use the chance to be greedy and reach your hand into his hair, making sure to mess it up so that there’s proof that you were here, in his arms, kissing him. 

He's sweet with his kiss, despite knowing you both waited for it for so long, he doesn't push you to go further even though you'd love for him to. You'd let him take you on this table right now.

But the absolute worst thing about Spencer is that he's so respectful that he pulls away after a few seconds to watch for your reaction. He's flushed with desire and his eyes have gone dark in a way that you've only seen when he was really angry. You can tell that he's restraining himself to not make you uncomfortable. His eyes scan your face eagerly, his hands resting on either side of your face.

“God, you're so… ridiculous.” 

The comment is so unexpected that you laugh, and the sexual tension seems to ease into just… sexual existence. “Hey, what's that for? You're going to kiss a girl and then immediately insult her?” 

His smile mirrors yours, “my apologies, your highness. I have just never heard such a ridiculous confession in my life before.” 

You frown, lips curling into a pout, “not true, that actress in the pool had a ridiculous confession too.” She didn't, but you never fully got over her kissing Spencer before you could. 

“Oh yes, I'm sorry, I forget about any other woman when I'm with you.” Then he plants a quick kiss on your lips with a poorly concealed smile, and you can just tell that he's going to be doing that a lot to get away with whatever bullshit he's spewing. 

“You’re unbelievable, Spencer Reid.” 

Then you’re kissing him again, craving more of what he gave you during the first kiss. The desperation for contact has you pulling him closer by his collar, leaning into the kiss like you were starving before him. When he finally slips his tongue into your mouth, you moan so pathetically it makes his grip around you tighten, body drawing impossibly closer to yours.

You're kissing for such an extended period of time that you're dizzy from the lack of air when he pulls away, and you're greeted by that lovely shade of crimson on his face. You desperately want to find out just how red he can get and in what other places.

You're admiring his face, lost in the haze of the kiss, and chewing absentmindedly on your lips when you suddenly remember something very important. You draw back a little to shoot him a very serious look. 

“Hey, you never said you liked me back.” 

He laughs in disbelief, “do I have to?” 

You nod like a petulant child, seriously alarmed.

He playfully rolls his eyes, “alright, I like you too,” he kisses you, “I like you a lot actually.” 

You're satisfied with that answer, melting into his touch again, like a helpless pet. You admire the post-makeout look that adorns his face and makes him more beautiful than you could ever imagine, and he gazes at you with stars in his eyes. For a while, it feels like the universe belongs to the two of you and no one else. 

Until you remember how late it is and the fact that Spencer actually works tomorrow, then you're not that happy anymore. 

“What's wrong?” He asks, nose rubbing against yours as if you could ever focus on anything when he's that close. 

“You have work tomorrow, and it's very late…” 

He draws back from you, as if broken out of the trance by your words, “Oh no, you're right.” He's starting to move away when something inside you kicks in and suddenly your legs are flying to lock around his waist to secure him in place. He raises his eyebrows at you, amused and surprised.

“You can't do this.” 

You nod your head menacingly, “oh yes I can.” You know he could easily break out of your hold if he really wanted to, but the fact that he's entertaining your antics tells you that he's not very eager to leave either. 

“Angel, I have to go to work in the morning. Like an adult with responsibilities, you know?” 

If you were in your right mind, you'd be offended at that comment, but he's just kissed you senselessly and then called you ‘angel’ for the very first time. No one could blame you for not being very wise. 

“You can still go to work in the morning, you just... don't have to leave right now.” 

“You want me to stay? Here?” You nod. “My love, you don't even have a change of clothing that can fit me.” 

“Then sleep naked. I won't complain.” 

He laughs, “What about a toothbrush? You don't have an extra one for me.” 

“I change my toothbrush once every three months and I always buy extra, so I do actually have a completely sealed, never used before brush that you can use. It will be yours from now on.” 

He shakes his head in disbelief but you can tell he's starting to budge, your technique is working. 

Plus there's the unsaid promise that, if he stays, there will be a lot more kissing going on. 

“And you want me to go to work tomorrow in this same outfit?” 

“Mhm, we'll hang it and it will be just fine.” 

“I don't have my badge with me, I can't go to work without my badge.” 

You scoff. “Then wake up early and drive by your place, stop creating irrelevant problems, Spencer.” 

He’s in disbelief at your brazenness but seems to cave in anyway. “Fine, yeah, I'll stay.” 

You smile, very proud of yourself, “yes you will.” 

At this point, you're aware that your leg is still around his waist, and you're holding him in place like you took him hostage, but you honestly don't feel like letting him go just yet. Months of pining for him like a lovesick fool, you think you deserve to relish in the power you exert over him. He seems to notice the hunger for power in your eyes because he's coming closer again, placing his hands on either side of your thighs. 

“You have other plans for me tonight, don't you?” He's using that husky tone again and looking at you with glazed-over hazel eyes. Like a predator hunting its prey. 

You place your arms around his neck, back where they belong, “and if I do? Will you punish me, officer?” 

His warm breath fans over your lips and you're shaking to your core with anticipation, “I don't know, maybe I will.” 

Then he puts an end to all your antagonizing conversations that are distracting you from more important matters by bringing you in for another eager kiss. You take all of him in, the stubborn grip he has on your face, the teeth clashing when he shifts your positions, the low moan he releases when you pull on his hair — you take everything he gives you with eagerness and hunger. You could swallow him up whole right now if you could. 

When he pulls away to take a breath and you're confronted by his disheveled face once more, you realize that there are a lot of things you're going to do to him tonight. You realize that it’s going to be a good while before either of you goes to sleep.

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

Draco had got barely halfway across the Entrance Hall when it happened. He felt the Trip Jinx round his ankles before he saw his assailants, and he went sprawling hard onto the cold stone floor, the wind knocked out of him, his wand spinning away to clatter out of sight and well out of reach. He lay on his front, coughing and gasping with ugly laughter ringing in his ears.

"Nasty tumble, there Malfoy," jeered someone behind him. "You want to mind where you're going, or you could hurt yourself."

Draco pushed up onto his hands and knees, still trying to get his breath. There was no way he could reach his wand before they jinxed him again; he hadn't even seen where it landed. He never was any good at muggle duelling. He got one leg under him, bracing himself to be knocked flat again, and heard a shout from above him.

"Protego!"

The jinx bounced off the Shield, and Draco got to his feet under its protection. Harry Potter was striding down the marble staircase toward them looking like a thunderstorm. Halfway along he stooped and picked up Draco's wand. He hardly glanced at Draco as he passed him and marched up to the little knot of seventh years picking themselves up from where they'd been hit by the rebounding jinx.

"Think it's funny to knock people down, do you, McLaggen?" snarled Potter, glaring up at the biggest of the lot.

"Oh don't get your wand in a knot, Potter. It's only Malfoy," said McLaggen in the sort of tone you might use to say 'It's only a slug.' "No love lost there, eh?"

"It doesn't matter who it is! We're not doing things like that anymore," Potter said furiously. "We just got done with a fucking war, and you want to keep fighting? You lot want to keep it going just for fun? Well, I don't, and I better not see you do that again! Now clear off! Twenty points from Gryffindor!"

"You can't--"

"Too fucking right I can! Now get back to your common room!" And, perhaps because Potter was Head Boy, perhaps because he looked like he could spit nails, or perhaps simply because he was Harry Potter, they did clear off. Potter watched them go, then turned to Draco. He still looked quite angry, but he was clearly trying to gather himself, "You okay?"

Draco had grazed his palms rather badly from throwing his hands out when he landed; his left wrist and forefinger were throbbing mightily, and his chest still ached, but he shrugged, "Fine."

Potter grabbed his sleeve and pulled Draco toward him to inspect his injuries, "Liar. You should go to the hospital wing and get that sorted out."

"I'll live," said Draco, but he didn't withdraw.

Potter frowned at him, chewed his lip. "I heal it for you if you'd rather," he offered after a moment.

"If nothing else will please you."

Potter pointed his wand at Draco's bleeding hands, "Episkey." The scrapes vanished, and Draco felt the spell heal his sprained wrist and finger as well. Potter pressed something into Draco's hands. Draco's wand. Draco had already forgotten he'd picked it up.

______

Excerpt from my new fic Queen of the Weeds! Drarry, Rated E, 60K. This is a coming of age story about figuring out who you're going to be and what you're going to do after your life very publicly falls apart. Draco and Harry become friends and more after they both return to Hogwarts for their 8th year after the war.

This fic is not a WIP, it is complete. I will be posting new chapters on Sundays and Thursdays until the whole thing is up.

Also gratitude to Allie @oflights from whom I got the poem that I took the title from.

[jamiethebee]

Harvest

My piece for ecto-implosion 2024!

I was partnered up with @tsubaki94 who did three whole lovely artworks, so go check them out here! (x)

(The AO3 Link (X) : broken up into smaller chapters rather than this one big guy)

25,252 words

Danny rubbed his foot around in the dirt, watching the small dust cloud billow up and hang there.

“Well come on, I’ll show you where you’re staying for the next few months.”  Alicia turned around and started walking off.

“Wait!” Danny bent to pick up his bags and rushed to catch up to his aunt, “I thought that you lived in the cabin?”  He looked over at the cabin he spotted through the trees.

Alicia glanced back at Danny.  She sighed, “I do.  You don’t.”

Danny frowned.  “I won’t?  Then where will I be staying?”

Side stepping a bush, Alicia grumbled, “you’ll see.”

They moved through the brush, dodging branches and stepping around roots and detritus on the ground.  It was hot and humid and Danny was starting to feel sticky, carrying his bags with him through it all.  The birds around them quieted as they approached and then started up again once they left.  A gentle slope turned into a steeper incline and Danny quietly wondered how much longer they were going to take.  He really hoped Alicia wasn’t just taking him in a circle in some sadistic test to see how long he’d last before complaining.  Or murder him.  It wasn’t likely, but Danny didn’t know his grumpy aunt well enough to rule it out either.  Probably not though.  Maybe. 

As they made their way up, Danny smelled a change in the air.  He arched his neck around Alicia to try to see what the cause was, but quickly moved his head back and away from a sudden branch flying in his face.  Just as Danny was weighing the benefits of asking for a break, the ground leveled out, and Danny got his first glimpse of the farm.

Golden strands of wheat waved in the slight breeze, stretching farther than Danny thought he’d see.  In the distance, taller stalks formed a different swath.  Alicia stepped out of the trees and onto a path that edged the fields.  Following Alicia, Danny realized the smell had gotten stronger.  “Huh,” Danny thought.  He leaned over, closer to the stalks.  Yep, the fields were definitely the source of the smell.  Turning back to Alicia, he looked down the path and stepped next to his aunt to walk side by side.  They seemed to be close to the edge and Danny could see a couple of structures in the distance.

“These are the wheat fields,” Alicia said.  “My farm grows two kinds, spring and winter wheat.  This here is the spring wheat; it’ll be part of what you’ll be helping to take care of on the farm.”

“Oh.  What else will I be doing?”

Alicia looked down at him, “We’ll see.”

Danny winced and looked ahead again.  “Am I staying in one of those cabins ahead of us?”

Alicia huffed, “Sure will.  I’ve got a farmhand that helps out - sometimes stays in one of the cabins, sometimes travels back and forth from here to town.  You’ll be meeting him later.”

“I didn’t realize there would be anyone else here.”

“Well sure, ya think I can take care of a farm like this all by myself?  It’s a lot of work.  Course, if one of my hands didn’t leave me in the middle of the season, I wouldn’t have let Maddie send you here at all.”  Alicia looked down at him, “My farm’s no place to goof around.  We all have jobs around here and we all have to do them.”  She leveled a sharp look at Danny, “Understand?  Just because you’re my sister’s kid doesn’t mean you aren’t responsible for pulling your own weight.”

Danny looked away, “Yeah.  I get it.  Don’t worry, Mom already told me.”  More like lectured me to behave, Danny thought.

Alicia huffed.  “Well, just keep that in mind.”  They walked the rest of the way down the path in silence.

As they neared the first cabin they could hear a bark, “That’s Skip.  He usually follows me around or hangs around the animals.  Good for keeping most unwelcome visitors away.”

Danny looked out and around excitedly, “you have a dog?”

Climbing up the cabin steps to pull open the door, Alicia said “yeah, but he’s a working dog, so don’t go bothering him.”

Once Danny stepped in, Alicia followed, closing the door behind him.  Sunlight streamed in through high set windows, illuminating the space.  At one end there was a bed on a simple frame, a dresser next to it, and enough space for a chair and small table.

“This is where you’ll be staying.  Got the place to yourself, though there isn’t much to begin with.  The toilet is the outhouse in between these two cabins, unless you really want to head down to bother me for mine.”

Danny gulped, feeling a little intimated.  “Got it – outhouse.”

“Yeah well, I’ll leave you to get settled in here and then I’ll come grab you for dinner.  Most meals will be down in my cabin, since it has the kitchen.  That said, you can bring food up here, but I don’t recommend it.  Racoons and the like will try to break in if they smell it up here.”

Danny nodded, looking around.  “Anything else?”

“You’d be best to wear boots if you’ve got them starting tomorrow, but for now?  Make sure the cabin door latches correctly when you leave or it’ll swing open.  That’s a great way to invite little rodents to make their home in here or to take a shit on the floor at the least.”  Alicia looked over the cabin once, “Fer now, settle in and I’ll come get you when it’s time.”  Alicia opened the cabin door and left Danny alone with his thoughts. 

Stepping over to the bed, he set his suitcases down and sat between them.  The bed let out a soft wheeze, but otherwise stayed firm.  It was more of a cot than a proper mattress, but that didn’t faze Danny.  He was looking to get shipped back to Amity Park as soon as he could anyway.  Dust motes danced around him.  The cabin was quite small.  But at least Danny didn’t see any spiderwebs or droppings.  ‘Small mercies’ Danny thought.  Pulling out the older PDA gifted to him by Tucker, Danny tried to see if he could pick up a signal to send back to his friends.  Waving his arm in the air didn’t do much. ��No signal.  Sighing, Danny put the PDA down behind the suitcases and leaned back on his hands. 

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he could smell the dust in the air, hear the rustling of leaves on the trees, and the faint sounds of animals.  He didn’t know why his parents thought he needed to get away from Amity Park for the second half of the summer, but Danny was annoyed.  He spent the first half of the summer trapped in summer school, and no sooner did he have the freedom to spend time with Tucker and Sam, than his parents and Jazz decided to send him off.  Between more ghosts showing up and causing problems, and his parents paying more attention to him now that Jazz was off at college, Danny had felt like he hadn’t had a moment to himself during the school year.  Any extra time he used to have was taken up by his parents dragging him into the GAV to hunt down ghosts and talk about what he planned to do after high school.  Danny had been looking forward to vegging out on the couch and running around the mall with Sam and Tucker instead of what?  Shoveling dirt?  Or watering plants?  Or whatever.  Danny wasn’t sure what would be expected from him this summer, but his mom made it clear that he was supposed to help his aunt with minimal complaint.  Danny let his arms give out so he could fall back onto the bed. 

He didn’t know what to expect here, but he knew that back in Amity the ghosts would be having a great time wreaking havoc with one less capable ghost hunter there to kick them back into the Ghost Zone.  At least Valerie had enough of a truce with Phantom now to be convinced to empty the ghosts back into the portal instead of handing them over to be subjected to the latest experiment his parents cooked up.  Danny closed his eyes.  Even thinking about what he would be returning to at the end of summer back in Amity Park was enough to exhaust him and before he knew it, he drifted off to sleep.

A short rap on the door woke Danny up, and he got up, threw a glance at his still unopened suitcases, and walked to the cabin door, pulling it open.  “Oh,” Danny said.  It wasn’t Alicia at the door like he was expecting.

“Hey, you must Alicia’s nephew?”  the mystery man asked.

“Uuuh yeah,” Danny rubbed the back of his neck trying to work out the crick that he put there by falling asleep cockeyed on the bed.  “And you are- ?”

The man laughed, “Aaah, figures that Alicia wouldn’t have told ya.  I’m here to take you to dinner, I’ll tell ya about myself on the way.”

Danny eyed the man, dressed in a button down shirt, blue jeans, boots, and a hat - he certainly looked like he worked on a farm.  Stepping out of the cabin, and making sure that the latch took, Danny walked after the guy as he led Danny to a dirt path off to the side of the cabins.  “I’m Will, no it ain’t short for nuthin.  Down this path,” he gestured, “takes you straight to tha boss’ place – and coincidentally dinner.”  Will let out a barking laugh and continued.  “I’ve been working here for a few years now.  Actually, for most of my life.  Worked here during the summers in between school for Tish and Dick back when they ran the place.  Later, when I realized city life didn’t agree with me, I came back and started working here full-time.  Alicia took over when they passed and she’s a bit gruff, but just as smart as her ma in running the place.”

“Oh, last time I was here, Alicia mentioned the women in the family being smart,” Danny said offhandedly as he looked around the woods.

Will hummed, “darn right they are, never met a smarter bunch.  The town was real glad when Alicia moved back, and I think they’re still a bit sad her sister – yer ma – never came back.”  Danny could feel Will’s gaze on him, “when were ya here last, by the way?”

“Uh,” Danny said, looking over at Will, “uuh must’ve been a year and half ago?  Roughly?  It was only a short trip.  My mom came down for Aunt Alicia’s divorce party and my sister and I dropped in to make sure my dad had my mom’s anniversary present.  That’s a bit of a long story, but we were only here for a day.”

“Aaah,” said Will, “makes sense.  I usually take a trip to the next town over to see my brother’s kids around that time.  Wouldn’t have seen ya and Alicia ain’t a big blabber if it’s not about the farm.”

Danny didn’t have much to say to that, so he looked ahead to the path, which had started curving away.  Coming around the bend, Danny could see Alicia’s cabin through the trees and realized that Alicia could have chosen to take this path up when Danny was carrying his suitcases.  His mood soured as they kept walking.  Getting to the end of the path, and out of the trees, Danny noticed a small building behind the cabin.  Maybe he could ask Alicia what it was for? 

Will walked up to the cabin door and knocked, before opening and sticking his head in, “Heya Boss, got the kid.  Anythin’ ya need help with?”

“You two better wash your hands ‘fore ya even think about touching food.”  Without turning around, she kept stirring the pot on the stove.

“Yes ma’am,” Will said, before turning around to Danny behind him, “Follow me.”  And he walked into the cabin, heading around a wall to another door inside.

Danny glanced around the cabin as he stepped in.  Nothing much had changed since the last time he was here.  He heard water running and looked back around to Will, who was washing his hands in the small bathroom sink.  Waiting for his turn, he looked around.  There was a picture or two on a table along with a radio, a small couch and chair, and a little fireplace.  But no TV.  Danny frowned, resigning himself to a very boring summer.

“Alrighty,” Will said, hanging up the towel, “your turn kid,” and he walked off around the corner to the kitchen.

Danny stepped in, noting the indoor toilet and shower that wasn’t in his cabin, and washed his hands.  By the time he got back out, Alicia and Will were outside setting down the final dishes on the wooden picnic table.

“Ah there you are Danny, we’ve got everything out here, come join us,” Alicia called him over.

Jumping down the stairs, Danny walked over to the table and took a seat next to Will.  Alicia may be his aunt, but he felt more comfortable with Will from the short walk over than he did with her.  A stack of bowls, a pot, and some bread on a plate got his attention.

Watching Alicia and Will grab bowls and dish out stew, Danny grabbed the last bowl and did so himself once the ladle was free.  Grabbing a piece of bread, he started dunking it in.  Watching Alicia and Will eat, he took a bite.  Danny made a surprised noise.

Alicia looked over to him, “Surprised?”

Danny nodded and swallowed his bite, “a lot better than I was expecting.”

Alicia laughed, “I’ll take it that my sister still ain’t much of a cook if you think that.”

Danny sheepishly laughed, “Mom’s cooking is alright.”  How could Danny explain that most of the stuff in their fridge sat next to ectoplasm and that no matter how well the containers were sealed, most of the time, the food tasted slightly off from spending time in there?  He elected to stay silent.

Alicia hummed in response as she ate another bite of stew.  The rest of dinner passed quietly, and soon the sounds of bowls being scrapped clean echoed in the little clearing. 

Alicia leaned back, waiting for Danny to finish.  Will took out a little pipe, tapping down the tobacco and lighting it.  Danny wrinkled his nose at the smell as he finished his bowl and straightened.  “That was really good Aunt Alicia,” Danny said.

Alicia grinned, sharp and wide, “glad you thought so.  Will, you can head back up, Danny here is going to help me with the dishes tonight.”

“Are ya sure?”  Will asked.

“Yea, we’ve got some things to talk about anyway,” Alicia narrowed her eyes at her nephew. 

Danny felt a chill run down his spine, unrelated to the waning light.

“Alright,” Will said, standing, “I guess I’ll be going then.  Night Alicia, night Danny.”

“Night Will,” Alicia said.

“Goodnight Will,” Danny called out as Will walked back to the path they came down.

“Well,” Alicia started, “Grab the dishes and follow me in.”  She stood up and grabbed the pot, heading back to her cabin.

Danny stood up, piled the bowls and spoons together in a neat pile, and walked in after Alicia.

“There ain’t no dishwasher in this old cabin, so we’ll be doing everything by hand.”  Alicia plugged half the sink and started the tap.  “I’ll let you rinse and dry the dishes.”  Danny set the bowls off to the side of the sink and walked around her. 

After filling up the sink sides, Alicia took the pan and started soaping it up.  “So, Danny,” Alicia started.  “Um, well, Maddie,” she cleared her throat.  “Yer ma seemed worried about you.  Anything I should know about?  Since you’ll be working on my farm and all.”

Danny shoulders inched towards his ears.  “No, nothing.  I didn’t need to get out of Amity.”  He scowled at the pot Alicia was cleaning. 

“Hmmm,” Alicia replied, methodically working around the inside.  “I never knew my sister to be a worrier, but I won’t pry.  So long as you don’t bring any strangers or trouble around it’s not really my business.”

Danny’s shoulders relaxed some as he took the pot from Alicia and rinsed it off before setting it in the dish rack to start drip drying.  The rest of the dishes passed quickly in the silence and as Danny was drying the last bowl, Alicia walked off around the corner.

Danny closed the last cupboard as Alicia came back around with a large fabric bag.  “I don’t want to keep you up for much longer, but we’ve got some housekeeping to deal with first.”  She held out the bag towards Danny.  He took it.  “First off, my cabin has the only shower.  The only rules are to not use it when I’m sleeping and to clean up after yourself.  I mean pick up your towels and hang them to dry over your cabin porch railing.  I’ve got a standing unit in the back.”  At Danny’s scrunched eyebrows, she sighed.  “A washing machine,” she strode to the cabin door.  Heading down the steps, she called back, “You saw the structure behind the cabin?”

“Uuuh, yeah,” Danny said, walking behind her.

“Well, the machine’s in there.  We don’t got a dryer, instead,” Alicia pointed up at a line stretching from her cabin to a tree.  “There’s a bag inside with clothespins.  You’ll hang up your clothes after the washer gets done.  I recommend getting up in the mornings and starting them so that they have the whole day to dry on the line.  But that’s just me.”  Turning back around she said, “well, I think that’s most everything.  I’ve got a bell I’ll ring to let y’all know when food’s ready.  I expect you to finish whatever you’re up to and to get down here when you hear that bell.  Either you’re on time or you don’t eat.  There’s too much to do around here to wait around.”  She looked down at him as the sun finished setting, the orange glow around them the last remnant of the day.  Her face softened some, “before I send you back to get some sleep, any questions?”

Danny shook his head, “Naw, laundry out back, shower inside, don’t bother you with either.  I think I’ve got it all.”

“Good.”  Alicia and Danny stood there for a moment.  “Well,” Alicia cleared her throat, “I’ll uh, see you tomorrow mornin then.  Night kid,” and turned to walk back to her cabin. 

Danny stood there for a moment before sighing and making his way back to the path.

_______

Danny woke up to knocking on the door and sunlight on his face.

Knock knock knock echoed through the cabin and Danny squished his eyelids together even tighter.  “Come on, get up boy, you don’t have time to lay around.”

Danny turned his head into his pillow and groaned.  He spent long enough last night putting away his clothes and getting used to the small cabin that he fell asleep at a time that, had he been back in Amity, would have been early and yet here was late, based on how groggy he felt.  Unrested.

Knock knock bang, “don’t think I won’t come in there kid,” Alicia warned.

Danny let out another groan before turning his head and calling out, “Alright, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Something that sounded like “too long” came from the door before footsteps started walking down the cabin steps.  Quickly getting ready – jeans, shirt, and unfortunately, FentonWorks patented hazmat boots, Danny pushed open the door, hopping a little to finish getting the second boot on.  He jumped down the stairs, making his way to Aunt Alicia, who was leaning against a tree.

“Well, 56 seconds ain’t bad kid, but come on.  You’re following me around for the day.”  She pushed off and started walking, “I assume you don’t have any experience working a farm?”

Danny shook his head, “no ma’am.”

Alicia snorted, “none of that ma’am business, call me Alice.”

“I thought your name was Alicia though?”

Opening a little gate, Alicia whistled and then beckoned Danny through before latching it, “Sure is, but yer ma and me had our Grandma Alicia, so family started calling me by Alice.”  Walking off to a small building further back, she continued, “But enough of that, we’ve got a long day.  You can ask if you have questions, but do your best to pay attention.”  With that, she opened the door to a cacophony of clucking that quickly died down.  Danny stepped in after her, and as his eyes adjusted he saw the inside of a coop.  Two rows of chicken nests on either wall, with hens either standing around Alicia or sitting.  Once they spied Danny hiding behind her though, they started squawking again and rushed forward, wings flapping and feathers fluffed.  Danny started backing away before a hand pushed on his back and a bucket was shoved into his chest.  Quickly grabbing it, Danny looked down at a bunch of seed and –

“OW!” Danny yelped as he started hopping from one foot to another, hens trying to peck away at the new intruder.

“Walk out, they’re just not used to you is all,” and Alicia shooed him out of the coop.

‘Fuck’ Danny frowned, not quite running away from the coop and wishing he could’ve used his intangibility to get away from the chickens.  Alicia laughed at him as the hens kept pace around Danny’s ankles, lunging forward to peck at him.  “How do I get them to stop?” Danny yelled.

“Jump the fence!”

Danny ran back to the gate and hopped over it with a little help from his ghost side to land a few steps away from the chickens.

Bwaack Squak Sqwauk!!

Danny looked up at Alicia who offered an unapologetic, “Sorry.  I forgot.”

Squinting at the slightly amused look on his aunt’s face, Danny scowled, “Did you do that on purpose?”

“No idea what ya mean kid.  Anyway, for now you can toss some feed in, but otherwise wait out there.  I’ll explain what I did when I get back out to you.”  Alicia grabbed a basket hanging outside the coop door and walked back inside.

Danny glared down at the chickens who were still protesting his presence.  “What.”

“Squuuuawk!” was the response back.

Danny sighed and looked down at the bucket in his hands.  It had some seeds and other things mixed in.  Looking back up at the chickens staring at him, Danny slowly raised a hand, “I’m going to throw some seeds in.  Please don’t scream at me for it,” and he reached a hand in.  No sooner did Danny close his hand around some feed, then one of the hens decided to start flapping its wings again to cause a fuss.  Danny jumped and glared at the chicken.  Out of spite, Danny reached back in and with a handful of feed, overhand chucked it into the coop yard.  Sticking his tongue out at the chickens that refused to let him out of their sight, Danny took another step back.  He couldn’t wait till his parents’ summer banishment was over and he could go back to Amity Park.

Alicia stepped out of the coop with the basket and walked over to a trough sitting in the yard.  After looking down, she gave a quick nod, and then started heading to the gate.  Where the chickens were still standing.  Glaring at Danny.

“Uuuh,” Danny said, “Do you have a plan on getting close enough to take this bucket back?”

“Sure do,” Alicia said, coming up to the gate, “step closer and hand it over.”

Eyes never leaving the chickens, Danny inched his way closer to Alicia and when he was close enough, thrust out the bucket towards her.  “Do they hate everyone?”  He asked.

Alicia took the bucket, “Nope.  Not me,” and laughing, walked back to the coop.

“Great, real reassuring,” Danny grumbled to her back.

Once Alicia finished up inside the coop, and with a basket of eggs in hand, she walked back out of the enclosure to Danny.  “Noticed how I whistled before?”  Danny nodded.  “I was warning the chickens that I was coming in.  It’s how I let them know it’s me and not a stranger.”  She grinned.  “Not that it helped you any.”

Danny looking away, glaring.

Alicia paused for a moment, “Well, no matter.”  She started walking to another log structure.  “I want you to figure out what signal you’re gonna give the chickens and start visiting them in the mornings.  Just so they get used to you.  We don’t want to upset them too much, so they need to start recognizing you.”  Walking up to the much larger barn, she opened the doors.  Danny was hit with the smell of animals and he scrunched up his nose, coughing. 

Alice looked back at him and laughed, “Well, you’ll get used to the smell soon enough.  Anyway, this is where we’ve got the rest of the animals.  Some pigs, cows, sheep - used to have a horse, but once we switched to using the tractor and truck full time, and old age killed her off, it didn’t make sense to get another.  But that was a number of years ago at this point.  I think ya mom and me were still kids then.”

Danny’s eyes finished adjusting to the inside and he saw the animals in their stalls.  The cows looked over at him, but it was one brave pig that snuffled up to Danny.  “Oh,” Danny said, crouching down.  “Cute.”  Reaching out a hand, Danny tried to pet the pig, which quickly moved away and waddled back to its stall area.

Danny caught Alicia’s smile as he stood back up.  “Pat’s rather friendly, but I wouldn’t recommend getting too attached.”  She gestured over to the far wall, “I usually open up the barn during the day, let the animals wander around.  Before that though,” she bent down to grab a stool.  “There’s some tasks to get done.” 

Alicia made her way to one of the cows and picked up a stool and a steel bucket hanging up on the post.  She turned back around to Danny, “Yer gonna learn how to milk the cows here.  We usually fill up the pail and then transfer them to bottles.  We get too much milk to use ourselves, so neighbors will come and pick up some bottles from time to time.”  She set the stool down with the pail on top, then moved to the larger cow.  Going around to the back of the stall, she unlooped a short rope and tied it around the cow’s neck.  “This old gal here is Gully.”  Alice jerked her chin to other stall, “and our younger one is Lass.”  Alicia walked back out of the stall to move the stool and bucket closer.

“What’s the rope for Aunt Alice?”  Danny asked.

“Oh,” Alice said, setting down the stool and pail at Gully’s side.  Sitting down, she said, “just to keep her in place.  Gully doesn’t move as much as Lass will, but she’s used to the rope.  Either way, it lets her know it’s her turn.  Here,” Alice beckoned Danny over.  "Now here’s how you milk a cow.”

After the early morning of getting food to the animals, collecting the eggs, and milking the cows, Alice led Danny back down to her cabin.  Going inside for a minute, Alice came out with a cup of water for Danny.  “I’m gonna check on the oatmeal and cook up a few eggs for us.  I want you to walk around the woods down here while I finish up breakfast.”

“Alright,” Danny said.  “And uuuh, I’ll hear the bell when it’s time to come back?”

Alice chuckled, “Ha - yeah, you’ll hear it.  Remember – don’t dawdle when you hear it, come straight back.”

Danny downed the cup of water in one go and nodded, setting down the now empty glass on the table. “Will do.”  Danny started walking off and he heard the creak of the cabin door.  Just as he was about to exit the clearing, Alicia yelled back, “And don’t step on my rhubarb!”

Danny walked around a bush, ducking underneath a tree limb, “Ok!” and almost ran into a large leafed plant.  He tilted his head.  Squinted. 

‘I don’t actually know what rhubarb looks like,’ he thought.  Danny shrugged and moved around it anyway.  Walking further into the woods he felt the temperature drop some as shade took over.  Standing still, Danny realized how quiet it was.  No cars, no honking, no rushing of traffic in the distance.  Instead, there was the rustle of leaves and the occasional bird call.  He breathed in and out.  Quiet, and it smelled like the earth.  He looked around.  A chipmunk scampered up a far off tree.  Danny started picking his way through the bushes, tree roots, and other obstacles as he walked further in.

Danny looked back, and not seeing anyone, did his best to walk in a circle with Alicia’s cabin in the center.  He almost tripped a few times, before remembering that he could use his intangibility to easily get through the plants without crushing any.  ‘Problem solved.  I can’t step on anything if I do this.’  Without having to pick his way in between and around foliage, Danny’s pace picked up as he walked the area.  Coming up to what he assumed was near the back side of the cabin, Danny heard a sharp piercing bell echo around.  Danny jumped.  It was much louder than he thought it would be, especially through the trees.  He started walking back, and spied Will coming in and out of view.  Danny had gone farther than he thought and hurried up.  Just before he popped out of the trees, he dropped his intangibility and walked out behind Will onto the dirt path.  “Hey Will!”  Danny greeted.

Will whipped his head around, “Oh!  Geee-zuuus kid.  Where’d you come from?”

Danny came up alongside Will, “the woods.  Alice showed me around the animals this morning, then had me walk around for a bit.”

Will nodded.  “Makes sense.  You see her rhubarb patch?”

Danny grimaced, “Uuuh maybe?”

“You don’t know what they look like, do ya?”

Danny shook his head, “Not really.”  After a moment of hesitation, Danny asked, “what do they look like?”

“Oh well, you’ll know it when you see it.  Got these big leafs on them.  Actually, she’s started a new patch of them in her actual garden.  Not hard to spot, there’s about 6 of them?  Started a year or two back to grow them in a different spot.  Real finicky things, they don’t like it down here, but I suppose Alicia likes ‘em well enough that she takes the time to baby the things.  Me personally, I don’t like ‘em all that much, wouldn’t bother putting in tha’ much effort.”  Popping out of the trees, Will waved over to Alicia, getting her attention to let them know they had arrived.

Alicia looked over, “Good – kid came back with ya.  I’ll finish hanging this line and then I’ll get food out.”  She turned back to the laundry.

Will nodded, “understood ma’am.”  He looked over and down at Danny, “We best wash our hands and start setting out dishes then.”

Getting the table set up with a small plate, bowl, and spoon for each of them, Danny grabbed the pot of oatmeal, while Will grabbed the scrambled eggs.  They got them set down in time for Alicia to round the corner from the back.  “Aah, thank you kindly boys.  Wasn’t expecting ya both to set up, but I’m grateful.”  Sitting down, she started dishing out a ladle of oatmeal for everyone and Will pushed off some eggs on each plate.  Danny waited a moment for Will and Alicia to settle down and then started eating.

After breakfast, Alice once again shooed Will off to work and had Danny help her wash and put away the dishes.  Putting the towel back on the oven handle, Alice turned to her nephew.  “Well.  We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”  She glanced around.  “Ya bring a water bottle with ya or anything?”

Danny furrowed his eyebrows, “Uh no.”  He flushed, “I forgot to grab one when packing.”

Alicia huffed, bending down to open a lower cabinet, and rummaged around before pulling out a spare canteen.  Standing up, she unscrewed the lid and looked down into it with one eye closed.  “Don’t think there’s dust or nothing in there.  Should work fine for ya.”  She passed it off to Danny and started walking out the door.  “Get it filled and I’ll see ya outside.  If you need to pee, now’s the time to do it.”  She walked out and left Danny in the cabin.  Looking around, he didn’t see anywhere other than the sink to fill up the water.  Shrugging, he got it filled up from the sink, then quickly went to the bathroom.  Looping the water bottle strap around himself, he left the cabin.  Making sure to latch it closed, he walked towards Alicia who had put on a wide brimmed hat and they started up the slope together.

“Soooo,” Danny said.  “What’re we doing today?”

Alicia chuckled, “you’ll see.  I always found it easier myself to see what someone was talking about than to just listen to someone blabber on.”

They headed back up to the animals.  Walking towards the barn, Danny squinted his eyes at the change in light as they reentered.  He put a hand to his mouth in an attempt to stifle a cough.  Alice looked over at him, eyes crinkling.  “First order of business, mucking out the stalls.  I’ll do the first one, then you’ll take over, so make sure you’re watching closely.”  Danny wrinkled his nose as he took his hand away and watched Alicia roll up a wheel barrow from the side.  She picked up a pitchfork, and as she speared the poop, started talking.

“You’re probably familiar with the poop part of this.  You want to get out all the large patties, and then go back and clean up the pissed sections.”  Alicia grunted as she lifted a large chunk into the wheelbarrow.  “It ain’t tricky, but sometimes the animals like to cover the patches, so you gotta make sure that you get all the spots.  We want them to have clean stalls when we bring them back in this evening.  Specially the cows, don’t want them to get infections or nothing.”  Alicia looked over at Danny who was looking up into the loft.

“Hey!” she called, and Danny dropped his head down to look at her.  “You got that?”

“Yes, Aunt Alice,” Danny rubbed the back of his neck. 

Alicia narrowed her eyes at him, then continued mucking out the stall.  When she finished, she handed the necessary tools over.  “Your turn kid.”

Danny flushed as he grabbed at the pitchfork, “Uh yes.”  He looked around before facing his aunt.  “What am I doing?”

Alicia stared him down.  “The next stall, boy.  Get to it.”

Danny gulped and walked to the stall next to the one Alice finished.  “So I just-“ and he mimed stabbing a poop patty.

Alicia raised an eyebrow and stared Danny down.

Turning back around, he prodded the pile.  Standing there a moment, he shifted his stance and jerked the tines into the pile.  He wiggled it in a little further.  Glancing over at the wheelbarrow, he started to crouch a little, bracing against his leg, and tried to leverage the pile up.  The pitchfork shook a little and Danny shifted a foot back to steady himself.  He shuffled around and clumsily wiggleded the poop off and into the wheelbarrow.  He looked up at Alicia.  Alicia looked back into the stall then back at Danny.  Figuring that was as good of a “go ahead” as he was going to get, he turned back into the stall and continued.  Alicia came to stand by the stall entrance and give the occasional tip as Danny rooted around looking around for spots to clean up.  Danny groaned as he finished the last spot.  Rubbing his arm, he turned toward Alicia.

As he opened his mouth, Alicia cut him off, “On to the next.”

Danny shut his mouth, glowering a little, and stepped over to the next stall in line.  By the time he finished with that one, Alicia had come back with additional stall bedding, spreading it out and filling in the bare spots.  Danny leaned against the stall divider and opened up his bottle, taking a gulp of water.  It dribbled down his chin and he wiped it off.  He hung his arms over the divider as he watched Alicia.  Her movements were smooth and practiced, and she was methodical, poking around and moving material, building it up in spots and thinning it out in others.  Alicia stepped back, shovel planted by her side.  She glanced over at Danny, not surprised to see him watching. 

“Any questions?”

Danny shook his head.

“No?  Well, I’ll leave you to the rest then,” and grinned at him, before leaning the shovel to the side and walking out of the barn.

Danny sighed and dropped his head for a moment.  It wasn’t hard to get the gist of what he had to do, but all of them?  It felt like he spent an hour just cleaning out the two he did already.  Not looking forward to the rest of the day, Danny pushed off the wall to continue.

At some point, Danny noticed something watching him from the barn door.  His shoulders tensed as he turned around.  The shape was grounded, solid in a way that most ghosts couldn’t replicate, and Danny felt his shoulders relax some.  Squinting against the bright light pouring in, he made out a fuzziness to whatever it was.  As his eyes adjusted enough to see more, Danny smiled.  It was a large dog, light in color except for the face and ears where the fur darkened.  Just as he was about to take a step to walk over, a low bark echoed throughout the barn.  Danny stopped.  The dog stood up but otherwise didn’t move, keeping eyes on him. 

“Hey,” Danny said.  “Aunt Alice said your name was Skip?”

The dog lowered its head down, staring down Danny.

Hearing footsteps coming from outside, Danny looked up.  Alice came to the entrance by Skip’s side.  “Sit,” she said.  Turning to Danny, “can you turn away from Skip a little?” 

Crouching down, she talked to Skip for a moment, before standing up and walking towards Danny.  “Alright, this is Danny.”  Coming to a stop near Danny, she clapped a hand on his shoulder.  “He’s going to be staying with us a while Skip.”

Skip stood up, turned away, and walked off.  Alice faced Danny.  “Well, that was Skip.  He isn’t the most friendly to strangers, but he’ll get used to you being around eventually.  Not that he hangs around us all that often.  Skip spends a lot of time with the chickens, sometimes the cows or pigs depending.  And you,” Alicia shook a finger at him, “will be out with the crops.  Shouldn’t run into any problems with Skip, just don’t startle him.”

Danny’s face fell, “Got it.” 

Alice looked around.  “So, you about finished in here?”

Danny ducked his head, “eeh about that.”

Alicia sighed, “Ok.  Well, once you get done with this, come find me.  I’ll be around, but if you can’t find me, just give a shout.”  She walked back out of the barn.

Danny sighed, hopes of having a dog crushed once again, and got back to work.

_____

Putting the tools back where Alicia grabbed them from, Danny walked out of the barn.  Stepping out of the shade, his hand flew up to shade his eyes from the sudden sun.  Glancing around, he didn’t see Alicia.  The woods on one side, chicken area in front, barn behind, and fields on his left.  Danny’s arms were aching, and he turned toward the woods. 

Walking through them for a while, Danny found a downed tree and sat down on it.  Head turned up to the dappled sunlight, arms stretched back, legs thrown out in front of him, he breathed deeply.  He slowly built up energy in his chest, before directing the collected ectoplasm out from his fingers, through the log, and into the surrounding area.  Nothing ectoplasmic echoed back through the connection and Danny slowed pulled it back, collecting and dispersing it back into himself.  Once confirming there were no ghosts out there, he fully settled his weight down onto his hands. 

He ignored the guilt building a home in his stomach and stayed for a few minutes, letting the sun soak into his being.  Danny was starting to get warm, bordering on hot - a foreign feeling ever since his ice core fully formed.  His eyelids fluttered closed and a soft breeze blew through, taking the edge of the heat off.  Danny could feel his heart slowing, mind growing fuzzy, and then he toppled back off the log.  His back hit the ground and the air escaped his lungs.  Wheezing softly, he stayed there for a moment.  Gathering breath back in his lungs, he tried to roll himself over.  Picking himself up, Danny did his best to brush the dirt and leaves off his backside.  Turning his attention back where he came from, he stomped his way to the farm.

Coming back up to the path around the farm, Danny spied Alicia coming up to the barn.  He started jogging faster before deciding to turn invisible and fly into the barn.  Setting down in a shaded corner, Danny turned visible and walked to the open doors.  Looking around behind him, he double checked that everything looked alright and walked out. 

Alicia was almost to the barn doors, looking back at the chickens, when Danny popped out.  “Hey!”  Danny called.  Alicia turned around to look at Danny before sending one last glance back.  Waiting for Alicia to get to the barn, Danny rocked back and forth on his heels.  His arms didn’t ache as much as when he first finished, but he could still feel the shaky weakness in them.  Danny flashed a smile at her as she got to him.

“So, how are you feeling?  Up to walking through the fields with me?”

Danny grimaced before he could stop himself. 

Alicia looked at him, “I’ll take that as a yes.”  She started walking away.

“Uh.” Danny started.  Alicia stopped.  “I – uh – what do I do with the, uuh, poop.  In the wheelbarrow?”

Alicia sighed before changing directions, walking back up and into the barn.  “I’ll show ya.  You’re gonna dump it in a pile out back.  We let it sit and age a while before using it.  Not the most glamorous, but it does the job.” 

Danny followed her in and took up the handles on the wheelbarrow.  Alicia led him out back, through the gated fence, and to a pile of poop.  Danny wrinkled his nose.  It didn’t smell as bad as he thought, but it wasn’t pleasant either.  He watched Alicia pick up a shovel that was leaning against a tree nearby, and she scooped the poop out of the small wheelbarrow and onto the pile.  In a minute she was done and set the shovel back down.

“As I said, not hard.  Get that wheelbarrow back where I grabbed it from this morning and catch up to me.  We’ve got a lot to do today.”

Danny hurried to comply and jogged to get back to Alicia who was halfway to the fields.

“Sooo,” Danny stretched out the syllable, “what’re we doing anyways?  Like the plants are all planted and stuff, right?”

Alicia scoffed at him and continued walking out to the fields.  Coming up to a large field of corn, she sharply turned left and kept walking alongside it.

Danny hopped a little on one leg to change direction and catch up.  After a few minutes of following Alicia and looking around the area – primarily at the woods in the distance, watching a bird fly up and overhead, and trying to find some shapes in the clouds – Danny sighed.  He looked over at Alicia.  Tried to find another bird to watch.  Looked back down.  Then further down at his feet.  Kicked a stray rock, causing a small dust cloud to rise up.  Alicia huffed.  Danny paused for a moment.  Started swinging his arms back and forth.  Stopped.  Started humming.  Stopped.  Shifted his weight on every step so he bobbed and swayed along more than walked.  Stopped that.  Looked back up at the clouds.  He could feel the sun warming the back of his neck as they went.

Alicia glanced over at him, causing Danny’s extraneous movements to still.  His shoulders lifted and he ducked his head down.  After another moment Alicia put her hands in her pockets.  Sighed.  “If Will wasn’t using the tractor to go around the farm today I would’ve taken you around in it.”  She leaned over to examine some of the corn stalks they passed by.  Straightening back up Alicia said to Danny, “There’s still a lot to do on the farm.  We may not be primarily livestock, but crops also require a fair bit of work.  We have to make sure they’re getting enough water, fertilize from time to time, spray for bugs and other diseases, weeding of course, making sure we don’t see signs of problems on the plants themselves, taking care of tractor maintenance – among other daily tasks.  You’ll be out in the fields mostly.  I’ll show you what needs done these first few days and then you’ll be sent off to do those tasks.  Don’t worry, I’ll let you know what to focus on, but,” Alicia shrugged, “a lot of it comes down to watching and learning the first few days.”

“Oh.”  Danny said.  “Uh, so what kinds of plants do you grow here?”  He scratched his warm neck.

Alice lifted up her hat before setting it back down, “Well, we’re a bit unusual – mostly growing feed for the livestock farms around here.  Remember when you and Jazz jumped into town last year from Air Grits?”

Danny nodded, “Yeah, that was weird; drove in this time though.”

Alice lifted her eyebrows for a moment, “Yep.  Bit of a hassle to drive into town though?”

Danny looked away, “Uuuh yea, the roads were kind of bumpy?”

Letting out a loud barking laugh, Alice said, “That’s one way to put it.  The road up here has a lot of sections through the woods too.  People here don’t drive from town to town all that often.  Makes us pretty secluded, and since there's not a lot of traffic it doesn’t make much sense to put money aside to pave a more direct route in.  Easier to just jump in from a plane for the most part.  Unless you live close that is.”

“I guess.  But what does that have to do with your farm?”  Danny wrinkled his noise as a breeze briefly brought the smell of manure his way.

“Mmm,” Alicia started.  “Well, animals need a lot of food, and the harder it is to get it brought in, the more expensive it is.  Growing up, your ma and me saw how the farmers struggled with the prices.  When I grew up, I decided to shift the family farm to silage to help with the demand.    You won’t see a lot of farms like mine, most of the food is grown outside of our region here or in other states entirely.”  She paused.  “It’s also a hell of a lot more trouble to get it to all work out if I’m honest.  There’s a reason crops aren’t grown in these parts.”

Danny nodded, looking back at the trees they passed by.

“To answer your original question, we got a field we plant cover crops in.  Depending on what we’ve got, I’ll send the cows and pigs out there during the days.  You won’t spend a lot of time there.  Then we’ve got this corn that we’re passing.  Unlike the corn we eat, this gets left to dry out after it gets done growing.”

Danny looked over the field, eyebrows pinched together.  “Corn?”

“Yessir, this is a corn field we’re walking by.  I guess for a city boy like you, it’ll be easier to tell in a few weeks.  These here are still growing their ears.  We’ve got some fields we planted earlier – they got their ears and silk already.  You’ll see them tomorrow probably.”

“Why?”  Danny interjected, “Why did you plant them like that?”

“Well,” Alice starts, “Oh, we’re coming up to the wheat here,” and pointed forward to the next field.  “We stagger our fields like that, so we stagger what time they’re ready to harvest.  It doesn’t make sense to flood the ranchers around here with a bunch of feed all at once, or to hafta store a bunch of it.  Arkansas up here in the north is a little interesting.  I started doing that a couple years back, and it’s been alright.  More work on my and Will’s end, but,” Alice shrugged.

Danny looked up at her, then tried standing on his tip toes as he walked.  He couldn’t see past the tops of the corn stalks and stumbled over an uneven patch on the ground.  Righting himself, he glanced back up at his aunt.  “So you’ve got corn and wheat, anything else?”

Alice looked down at him briefly, “Sometimes we’ll do soybeans, sometimes sorghum.  Depends.  Nothing you’ll have to worry about either way.  I think we’ll keep ya working on the wheat and corn this summer.”  Alicia looked at him from the corner of her eye.  “Speaking of, you drive yet?”

Danny choked on some spit, “Sorry?”  He cleared his throat, “I’m still a few months shy of being able to get my permit.  Eeeer,” Danny looked up her, “Why?”

“Aaah,” Alice said.  More to herself than Danny, she muttered, “No matter, I’ll have to teach ya regardless.”  She looked off in the distance before turning back to Danny.  “Today, we’re going to go around the farm.  I’ll show ya where are the different sections are and how they’re organized.”

Danny squirmed, “You don’t have to do that Aunt Alicia, I could walk around by myself.  I don’t want to take you away from your work.”

Alicia narrowed her eyes at him.  “You won’t be.  I’ve got stuff to do out in the fields anyway.”

Deflating a little under her gaze he nodded, “Okay.”

Walking out to edge of the farm, Alicia took Danny through a section of wheat, pointing out things to watch out for, checking moisture levels, and more.  Danny did his best to pay attention, but kept getting distracted by the wind brushing through the wheat.  The plants would bend and rub against one another, creating a raspy sound, like someone walking around.  After a sudden gust that caused Danny to jump, Alicia looked up at him.  She waited for Danny to settle again, then went back to what she was doing.  He could feel his shoulders tense and looked around the tops of the wheat to make sure that there really wasn’t anyone around.  Danny moved to crouch down next to his aunt. He started to lean off to one side, unbalanced on the ground, and it was only when he put out a hand to brace himself did Danny notice that his hands were balled into fists.  He slowly unclenched his left hand, the tension dissipating as he flexed it.  Turning back to Alicia, he noticed she had turned to look at him.  Danny looked back at her.  She raised an eyebrow.

At Danny’s clueless face, she rolled her eyes.  “Look over at the roots by you – do you see anything out of the ordinary?” 

Danny ears flushed pink as he turned his head to look around him. 

The rest of the afternoon passed by quickly, with Alice pulling snack bars from her overall pockets as a short break while they walked through more sections.  As they exited a corn field, Danny heard a rumbling in the distance.  After a minute or two of walking down the wider path, Alicia angled her head back, listening to something.  “Seems Will is driving the tractor back.  If he crosses near us, and has the cart hitched up, we can get a ride back.”

Danny desperately hoped that he would see Will.  He might have the occasional ghost fight and Sam as a friend, but he wasn’t fit.  After a day walking around, crouching and standing, his legs were tired, feet aching, and even his arms felt heavy.  Danny couldn’t wait to get back to his cabin and fall face first onto his bed asleep.  His stomach grumbled out.  Actually, dinner first, then sleep.  Hearing a change in the tractor rumble, Danny looked behind him and saw the tractor turn down their row.  Danny waved at Will, and Alicia turned around.  Ushering Danny to the side of the path, they let Will come to a stop, before closing the distance.

Grinning over at them, Will opened the door and told Danny, “You look dead on ya feet, kid.  Ready to get back?”

“Yes please,” Danny begged.

“Alright, then climb in.”  Will closed the door.

Danny gave a little wave and followed Alicia to the back, climbing up into the cart hitched up.

As Will got closer to the upper cabins, he let Alicia and Danny off before he went off to park the tractor and finish up some tasks.

“Well,” Alicia said, stretching out her back, “I’ve got some stuff to get in order before dinner.  If you want to call home, I’ve got a landline down in my house.  There’s not enough time to take a nap or anything, not that I’d recommend it anyway.  Or you could always take another look in the barn, see if there’s anything to muck out before the animals bed down for the night.

“Ok,” Danny said.  Alicia quickly turned and made her way down to the lower area.  Danny stood there for a minute, looking off into the woods, before making his way behind his cabin to the freestanding outhouse.

After, he ambled to his cabin.  Throwing open the door, he walked over to his bed.  He flopped down on top of it, a leg and arm hanging over the edge.  Danny wasn’t sure how much time he actually had before dinner, but he just wanted to be horizontal for a while.  His body settled down, weighing into the mattress as he tried to stop thinking.  After a while, his face got tired of being smashed into the sheets and Danny turned his head to the side, examining the little cabin.  The sunlight coming in through the windows was yellow orange and muted.  He watched the dust motes dance down the shaft of light before they disappeared into the shadows by his face.  Feeling his body relax further, his turned his attention to his wide open door.  The sounds of the woods filtered in, quiet, through it.  He heard a deep bark come from Skip from somewhere.  The sounds of a fly buzzing around his doorframe before flying off.  Birds called back and forth.  Danny sighed and felt his eyelids slide shut.  He couldn’t wait to start counting down the days until he returned to Amity Park.

When Danny could feel his heart slowing down, he quickly opened his eyes and pushed himself up.  The sudden shift started his heart beating rapidly.  Despite wanting to sleep so badly after this day, Danny did not want to miss dinner and he had a sinking feeling that his aunt would not be happy if he didn’t show up.  Not knowing how much time passed, he got up and left his cabin, making sure the latch clicked shut before he walked down to Alicia’s cabin.  Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands, he made his way down the slope.  He didn’t call last night, despite promising his family he would.  Danny was relatively assured that his mom would’ve called Alice anyway.  More than that, Danny wanted to check in with Sam and Tucker.  As enthusiastic as his parents could be about chasing down ghosts, they were hardly reliable when it came to dealing with the ghosts in town.

He heard a steady clacking as he approached Alice’s door, and opening it, he found her in the kitchen cutting up ingredients. 

Danny looked around, then cleared his throat.  After a moment, Alice turned around to face Danny.  “What’s up?”

“Uuh, I’d like to use the phone.  If there’s still time before dinner?”

Alice gave one short nod then gestured, curving her hand around to point.  “Phone is on the other side of this wall, it’s a mounted one.  You can pull up a chair if you want.  I reckon you have enough time for a call.”

“Or two, if you’ve got a special someone,” she tacked on, laughing when Danny spluttered half formed words at her.  “Aah just kidding kid,” Alice said as she turned back around.

Danny let out a wheezy, “thanks,” before walking to the other side of the wall.  He found the aged yellow phone on the other side easily enough.  Pausing in front of it, he took a deep breath, before lifting up his hand to the receiver.  His hand rested there for a moment before he tightened his fingers and pulled the phone off, dialing the FentonWorks business number with his other hand.  Bringing the phone up to his ear, he shifted his weight, an arm coming around to wrap around himself. 

Briing brriiiing.

….

Briing Brriiing.

….

Bri – “Hello?”  A female voice answered.  “You’ve reached the FentonWorks business.  If it’s about ghosts or specters, we’re here to help.  What can we do for you today?”

Danny let out a breath at his mom’s practiced spiel.  “Hey, Mom.”

A gasp crackled through the landline, “Oh Danny!” she said in surprise.  “Oh, honey, why didn’t you call the house number?”

Danny looked up at a corner of the cabin.  “They all end up at the same place though?”

“Honey, but it’s different phones that ring – you know that.  And I’m not sure your father deleted off old voicemails from this number, so if we weren’t here to catch your phone call you wouldn’t have been able to leave a message!”

“That’s what I was hoping for,” Danny mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?  Danny, you have to –“

“IS THAT OUR DANNY BOY?!  HOW IS HE?  ENJOYING LIFE WITH YOUR OLD BAT OF AN SISTER?”  Jack’s booming voice cut through, clear enough to understand even as it crackled the closer he got to the phone.

Danny heard a rustling and a light smack on the other side.  “Jack darling, my sister is not an old bat,” she admonished.  “But yes, it’s Danny.”  A pause.  “Danny can you hold on a moment?  I’m going to put you on speaker.”

Danny’s hand crept up to the coiled cord connecting the phone to the base.

A couple of clicks, then – “Oh Danny, can you hear us?”

And a competing “Still there Danny?” coming through at the same time.

Danny winced as the phone screeched.  “Yeah,” his fingers twisted around the cord, “I’m still here.”

“Oh wonderful,” his mom said, “how are you settling in?”

“Meet any farm animals yet?” his dad asked.  A breath, then an excited “Meet any country ghosts?”

Danny sighed, his fingers twisting up more in the cord.  “I’m doing fine.  Aunt Alice explained where everything is, and I pretty much fell asleep after moving my clothes out of the suitcase.  Sorry I didn’t end up calling you last night.”

“That’s fine sweetie, your aunt gave us a short call last night to let us know you made it there alright.”

Danny hummed, hunch confirmed.  Hearing his dad take a breath in, Danny quickly tacked on, “and I haven’t seen any ghosts, Dad.  Met some cows, pigs, chickens, and the farm dog though.”

“And how is Skip doing?” Maddie asked.

Danny’s face scrunched up, “Fine?  I guess?  He didn’t like that I showed up today, just kind of stared at me for a bit before walking off.”

Maddie laughed.  “That sounds like him.  He’s nice enough when he warms up to you.  But no, he isn’t too fond of strangers.  Just give it time Danny.”

Danny huffed.

“Yes, yes, but I think he’ll be back before then Maddie,” Jack replied.

“Oh, you’re absolutely right dear.  How are –“  Danny heard distant footsteps.

“Is that Danny?” his sister’s voice called out in the distance, a whisper coming through the phone.

“YES, COME HERE JAZZ, SAY HI!” his dad yelled.

Danny untwisted his fingers from the cord before starting to wrap them up again.  “Hi Jazz,” he said.

“Oooh!  Hi Danny!  How are you doing!?”

“Alright,” he said.  “Aunt Alice was finishing dinner.  I just wanted to check in with you guys before then.”

“Ok Danny.  Well, thank you for that.  We don’t want to keep you too long then.”  Jazz’s voice turned sharp, “Do we?”

“No! No, we don’t Jazzy pants!  Don’t forget to call later!  We miss you Danny boy!  Don’t work yourself too hard, but make sure you listen to your ba-“ Jack cleared his throat, “your aunt.”

“I suppose we should let you go then Danny.  Thank you for calling us.  As nice as it was to know you were there safe, it’s even better hearing your voice.  We miss you sweetie, love you!” Maddie said.

A twin chorus of “Love you”s sounded off after her.

“Love you guys,” Danny said.  He clicked the phone back on.  Sighing, he pulled it back off after a minute.  Dialing a different number, he waited for the signal to connect.  Danny started counting, but before he could reach five, he heard it connect.

“Sam?” Danny said.

A gasp, “Danny?  Oh, I didn’t know you’d be able to call so soon!”

Danny smiled.  He heard a small voice come through, “Is that Danny?”  After a moment, a much louder, “Hey dude!  How are you?  Is it smelly there?  Did you get a signal with my Charlotte?”

“Hey Tucker, Sam.  Uuh, no Tucker, your PDA didn’t connect to anything.  Other than that, it’s fine.  I was outside, like, all day today.  My legs feely like jelly,” he grouched.

Sam clicked her tongue, “This is why you, and Tucker, should join me when I exercise!”

“You can NOT convince me to join your exercise regime,” Tucker said.

“One day,” Sam vowed, “one day you’ll join me, Tucker Foley.”

Danny laughed.  “Alright, I’m glad I reached both of you.  I’ve got some questions about our,” Danny paused for a moment, “city guests?”

“Guests?” Tucker said.  “What do you – oof.”

“Ghosts, Tucker, keep up,” Sam hissed.

“Got it, there was no need to elbow me though.”

Danny could imagine Tucker melodramatically massaging his side as Sam rolled her eyes at him.  “So?” he prompted.  “Anything to worry about?”

Tucker sighed, “dude it’s been dead around here, Poindexter was walking around campus yesterday, the Box Ghost was seen flying around the warehouses, and then today Vaaaal – the Red Huntress was chasing Skulker.”

“Skulker?” Danny snapped.

“Yeah, no need to get your pants twisted Danny,” Sam said, “it was Skulker out of his suit of all things.  No clue why he was wandering around like that.”

“It was weird seeing his naked, blobby ass Danny!”

“Eeeew, Tucker!”

“What?”

“Gross!  Anyway, Danny, despite having so many sightings the past few days, there haven’t been many problems.  Even your parents have kept the GAV destruction to a minimum.  Your dad only dented a stop sign pole and your mom only scorched some leaves while blasting at the Box Ghost.”

“Huh,” Danny said, “that’s good.  I guess?”

“Relax, dude, if any problems pop up, Sam and me have got this.  Along with Valerie.  We won’t let anything too bad happen.  And hey!  If all else fails, then your parents are always around.”

Danny snorted, “thanks, I feel so much better now.”

Sam sighed, “seriously though Danny, take it easy.  You are nowhere near Amity right now, so it’s no use worrying about it.  We have it covered and before you know it, you’ll be back.”

“Yeah, alright,” Danny said, fingers twisting in the cord again.  “Okay.  That’s – thanks for letting me know.”

“Are you okay?” Tucker asked.

Danny sighed into the receiver.  “Yeah.”  Silence stretched out between the two sides of the call.  Danny heard Alicia shuffle out of the cabin and down the steps.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Danny said.  “I’m just.  UUuugh.  I don’t understand why my parents thought I needed to get away from Amity Park.  And my sister didn’t help, butting in with all these psychology studies about stressed teenagers, and environments, and whatnot.  Can you believe that fink convinced my parents to send me away for basically my entire break!?!  I already missed half of summer being in school, and now I’m out in the middle of nowhere?  It’s stupid.  I don’t even know why they thought the ghosts attacks were putting me on edge in the first place!  I don’t even stick around for the ghost fights as Fenton because I’m so busy running off to fight them myself,” Danny hissed.  He heard a stair creak.  He sighed, letting the tension bleed out of him.  “Anyway, how are you guys?  Enjoying your summer?”

Sam and Tucker started talking about how excited they were for a new movie that was coming out next week and Danny smiled softly, listening to their back and forth.  Hearing someone clear their throat behind him, he turned around, and lowered the phone away from his ear.

“Dinner’s gonna be done soon kiddo,” Alice said.

“Thanks,” Danny mouthed.

Finding a short break in the conversation, Danny interrupted whatever retort was coming next, “Hey, guys.  I’m glad I could catch both of you, but I got to go.  I’ll talk to you both later?”  He untangled his fingers from the cord.

“Oh,” Sam said, “Yes, of course.  Bye Danny!”

“Bye!  Talk to you later!” Tucker said.

“Bye.”  Danny clicked the phone back in place.

Collecting himself, Danny breathed out, plastered a neutral expression onto his face, and turned around to walk outside for dinner.

_______

Danny was in his bed.  He was exhausted.  His arms ached, his feet were sore, and his eyes were tired. 

He rolled over.  It was dark, likely the middle of the night, and he was groggy, limbs still heavy and heart slow from sleep.  So why was he awake?  He heard a far off call coming from the direction of the woods.  ‘Probably a wolf’, he thought.  Closing his eyes, Danny settled back down.  Or tried to.  His skin itched and Danny twisted around to rest on his other side.  Scrunched together his eyelids.  Moved his feet around.  Sighed, then pushed himself up.  Slipping on his boots, he opened up the cabin door and stepped outside. 

Looking around, Danny didn’t see anything concerning.  He stepped down and walked around the cabin, looking at the sky and the darkness in between the trees.    Danny walked back in the cabin, pulling the door till he heard the latch click, then walked to his bed.  Sitting down he took a deep breath, held it, and his eyes glowed green in the dark as he released the breath.  Ecto pooled beneath his feet and he pushed it through the ground.  He stretched out his consciousness with the ecto, making sure that there was nothing unexpected in the area.  The only thing he sensed was a small pool of ectoplasm in the ground, far enough down that it was probably undisturbed by anyone for hundreds of years.  Breathing in, he called his ecto back.  Breathed in, then out.  Followed the path of his breath through his body as it traveled.  In through the nose, down to his lungs, inflating, then back up and out.  Once he felt sufficiently centered in his body again, Danny kicked off his boots and laid back down.  Sleep claimed him quickly once more.

Sun hitting Danny’s face woke him up.  Throwing an arm over his eyes, Danny groaned.  He still felt sore from the day before, tired from the ghosts fights prior to coming to his aunt’s, and annoyed from being sent in the first place.  In short, Danny was grumpy.  The sharp rap on his door a couple minutes later did not help.

“Up and at ‘em Danny.”

“I’m up!” he called back.

Hearing footsteps recede, Danny groaned.  Loudly.  Maybe he could convince his parents to pick him up?  Call this summer trip short?  Danny started plotting ways to get back home, with his parents’ permission, as he followed Alicia back to the chickens, then off to the barn.

Neither spoke to one another, Danny doing his best to help Alice.  Before long, she had him mucking out the stalls again as she walked off to attend to other chores.  As Alice said, it wasn’t tricky and the repetition had Danny zoning out, daydreaming about being back in Amity. 

A short step back, and Danny tripped over a trough.  Hitting the ground hard, he felt something squish against his backside.  Danny sighed.  He closed his eyes, gathered some motivation, then swung his legs over the trough and fully onto the ground.  Standing up, he twisted around to see the cow pie he landed in.  Wrinkling his nose, Danny pushed intangibility through his body to get the crap to drop off his butt and walked out of the way before releasing it.  He stood there, feeling the warmth of the sun heating up the open doorway, and looked at the two stalls left to do.  Danny was just about to turn around and walk off for a little break, when his mom’s chiding voice echoed through his head.  Turning back around, he went to finish the job before the food bell rang out.

Later that day, the walkie that Alice had given Danny earlier that day crackled to life. “DANNY!  Get the first aid kit from the barn and get out to the field Will was working in.  Now.”

Click.

Danny, who had been lounging by the storage barn, darted inside to grab the kit that hung up there, and ran back out.  He activated his flight so he lifted just above the ground, and flew most of the distance to the field.  When he was close, he dropped back down and ran the rest of the way.

“Mmmm fine,” Will slurred out.

“Will Archibald Jacobson don’t you dare,” Danny heard Alice hiss out.

He darted around a row to see Will by the woodchipper, Alice holding his arm above his head.  “What happened?” Danny yelled, dashing the last few yards to them.

Will’s arm was wrapped in his overshirt, blood soaking into the fabric.  He had blood on his tank shirt and his pants.  Blood dripped down to his neck.  His face had an out of focus expression.

Danny set down the first aid kit.

Flipping it open, Alice responded, “darn idiot got distracted and forgot about the woodchipper next to him.”

“Hey!” Will protested.  “Kid, don’t listen to her, I was… safe, prom’se!  Jus’ go’ startled by this green thing – glowing like the sun – ‘n tripped ‘n fell is all.”

“Danny, press here,” Alice instructed, ignoring Will’s slurred explanation.

Danny helped Alice wrap up Will’s arm tight.  Hauling him to his feet, Alice turned around.  “Danny, I’m going to take him into town.  I’m not sure how deep that cut went, but,” she trailed off, looking at the dopey look on Will’s face.

“Got it, what do you want me to do?”

Hoisting a shoulder over her own, Alice grunted, “help me get him there.”

Danny darted under Will’s other side to support him, and they started to walk him back.  Will protested the whole way, claiming that he was fit as a fiddle and definitely didn’t need to walk into town and that they should check out ‘the weird creature in the woods, big, green, and glowing, can’t miss it’.  Danny extended some of his flight powers to Will, lightening the load on him and Alice.   They walked Will past Alice’s cabin, through a short stretch of woods, and into town.  Will finally quieted down, grumbling instead of loudly complaining, and they made it into the small clinic.

“Patty!”  Alice called out. 

A middle aged woman came out from the back door, “what’s – oh, get him into the back room.”  She propped the door open, and let them pass her, pointing them to one of the two examination rooms.  Shooing Alice and Danny back out once they set him down, Patty got to work.

Walking back out to waiting room, Danny felt sick to his stomach.  He was supposed to have gone to help Will out that afternoon, but decided to take his time and took a break near the chickens instead.  “Is he going to be ok, Aunt Alice?”

“Probably,” Alice said, but the furrows between her eyebrows told a different story.  “Well, nothing much to do in the meantime.  You been through town yet?”

Danny blinked at the sudden shift, “uh, no, not yet.”

“Then I’ll show you around real quick while we’re here, make the most of this.”

Alice took Danny around, which consisted of walking him up and down Mainline and Riverway, the two major streets of the small town.  There were only a handful of shops, the clinic, and a gas station.

“That’s it?”  Danny asked as they walked back to the clinic.

“Yep,” Alice popped the p.

“It’s…. tiny.”

Sighing, Alice said, “well yea, most folks around here stay on the farms.  You have a few homes down here near town, but most people prefer to move down to the bigger town about 50 miles from here.”

Stepping into the clinic, Danny now noticed the chime that signaled their entrance.  They settled down in two of the three seats in the front area.

A few minutes later, Patty walked back out.  “Well, Will should be fine.  It’ll take a while for his arm to heal up, but he’s still got movement and feeling, so I don’t think he’s got any nerve damage.”  She smiled at them.  “Lucky, though, that he didn’t lose too much blood.  I got him a snack and had him lay down in the meantime.  What’d he even do?  He had fat hanging out of the wound and everything.”

“Fool got distracted and the wood chipper was nearby,” Alice grumbled.

“He tripped into it,” Danny added.

“Hmm, well alright.  You guys gonna take him back up to the farm?” Patty asked.

Alice uncrossed her arms, placing her hands on her knees.  “Suppose so.  His family’s too far away to call to get him today.  I’ll see if they’ll come pick him up tomorrow.”  She sighed, running a hand through her mullet.  “Tomorrow’s Saturday, so they probably will.”

“Definitely lucked out then,” Patty said.  She walked back to check on Will.

Waiting for the “all clear” to take Will back up, Danny stewed in his thoughts.  He hadn’t exactly done anything outright wrong, but Danny knew that if he had taken his job more seriously, he would’ve been with Will and maybe he wouldn’t have gotten hurt or as badly or –

“Stop thinkin’ so loud.”

Danny jumped.  The swirl of his thoughts coming to a halt.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispered.

“What for?”

“I –“ Danny paused.  “I –“

“Danny,” Alice cut in.  “It ain’t your fault.”

“But –“

“Nope.  Whatever ya think ya did or didn’t do, it’s not your fault.”  Alice side eyed his hunched, guilty looking form.  “Stuff like this happens – whether or not anyone else is around.  So don’t worry too much.”

Danny dropped his head down.

The silence stretched between them.  Alice looked out the window, and Danny made a promise to himself to take this summer more seriously.

__________

The next morning, Danny waved Will and his family off as they left down the back road.  He’d be gone for the next couple of weeks to keep him away from the temptation of working.  Knowing they’d have to pick up the slack, Danny and Alice hurried back to work.

_________

A week later, Danny was settling into a routine, getting comfortable around the farm.  He was getting quicker at mucking out the stalls, and as such, he had some time to do some laundry.  Taking the path down to Alice’s cabin, he passed under one of the open cabin windows.

“-addie.”

Danny stopped.  Was Alicia talking to his mom?

“Danny?”  Alicia asked.

Oh, they were talking about him.  He stood there, holding his bag of laundry, curious about what his aunt would say.

“No, he’s doing good work around the farm.”

Danny shuffled a foot around, making circles in the dirt as he listened in.

“Yeah Madds, I can see why you’re so fond of him.”  Alicia laughed in response to something Maddie said.  “That he is, you raised a good boy.”

Danny’s eyes widened.  Bugs buzzed around in the grass around him.

“Mmmm.  If he didn’t have school to get back to, I wouldn’t mind keeping him around,” Danny overheard.  Eyes widening, he decided to quickly walk off to the laundry. 

He hadn’t realized that his aunt liked him that much.  Even more surprising that she’d want to keep him on.  Danny remembered the start of summer school when his teacher all but groaned at him walking in.  Danny had just failed the second half of their class not 2 weeks before.  Due to the sudden ghost appearances, Danny hadn’t been the most reliable in the last few years.  But for someone to recognize his work?  And be satisfied with it?  Danny felt a warm feeling start in his chest.  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay for the rest of the summer.

______

A couple weeks passed from that phone conversation, with Will coming back and slowly starting to pick up more work again.

Danny had, for the first time since he arrived on the farm, a short work day.  By the time lunch came around, Danny had finished his list of chores.  After getting the confirmation from Alice, he had the whole afternoon to himself.  

He walked around the farm, ending up at one of the wheat fields.  Will and Alice were focused on the corn fields for the day and wouldn’t be out this way until later.  Standing there amidst the softly swaying strands, Danny watched the sky.  The breeze in the air that moved the wheat also pushed the clouds around high above.  He decided to take a seat between the golden rows, laying on his back, arm flung behind his head.  Staring up at the clouds, he watched them flow across the sky, shifting forms as they traveled.  The sun-warmed dirt below him felt like a warm blanket on his back.  This close to the ground, it smelled sweet, a little moist and earthy.  Danny pulled his cap lower over his face as the warmth settled into his bones.  Soon enough, he was lulled off to sleep.

By the time he woke up, the sun had dipped lower in the sky.  Sitting up, Danny didn’t hear anyone around and got up.  As he walked out of the field, Danny raised his eyes, jumping a little at Skip sitting down and watching him from a distance.  Danny paused midstep.  When Skip didn’t make a move, Danny finished walking out of the wheat and onto the dirt path.  They stared at one another for a moment.  Out of view, one of the pigs grunted.  Skip blinked, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth, before he got up to walk to the pig.  Danny watched his tail wag as he left.  He chuckled softly as he headed off to Alice’s cabin. 

After dinner, he stuck around, playing a card game with Alice, Will, and Jasper.  Every so often one of the townspeople stopped by to get Alice’s opinion about something or another and stayed for a meal.  When Jasper lost the third game in a row, he called it quits and headed out for the night.  Will, Alicia, and Danny played a few more rounds themselves, Will and Danny winning a round each, with the rest of the wins going to Alice.  By the time they said their goodnights, the moon was rising.  The sky had darkened considerably and the stars were twinkling to life above them. 

“Oh.” Danny breathed, stopping on the cabin porch.

Will looked back, “Danny?”

“The sky.  I –“ he paused.  “I’ve been falling asleep so quickly I haven’t had time to really see it.”

“Oh, that all?  It’s pretty neat I guess…  Well, I’ll head up then, see ya later Danny.”

Eyes never leaving the sky, “Night Will.  See ya tomorrow.”  He walked down to sit at the table.

The door creaked open, “Oh.  Danny?  Is that you still down here?”

Danny, from the picnic table, confirmed, “Yeah.”

“Huh, I thought you and Will left a while ago.”

“Hmmhmm.  Will did, headed up already.”

“Ooook.  Well, you need anything?”

“Nope.”

“Alright,” Alice stepped down, walking up to the table.  “Well, it’s getting late.  Now, I’m not your mom, but maybe consider heading up yourself soon.”

“Ok.  Yeah, you’re right.”

“…  Ya really like those stars huh?”

Danny finally looked down, “Yeah.”  He grinned, “you can’t see the stars like this in Amity.  I mean, you can, it’s not the worst, but it’s just so clear out here!”

Alice chucked, “Sure is.  Sometimes I forget how nice it is.”

“If I lived out here, I would never take it for granted.  I bet it’s so easy to track the constellations and star movements,” Danny’s eyes lit up with the possibilities.

“Don’t know much about the stars myself but,” she shrugged, “I guess it wouldn’t be hard to, no.”

Taking one last look up at the stars, Danny got up, said goodnight to his aunt, and headed up to get ready for bed.

_______

“And Danny?  Come into my cabin for a moment, your job today is going to be a little different.”

Will frowned, “Aaah man, Danny gets to do that?”

“Do what?” Danny asked.

Alicia grinned.  “Blackberry picking.”

“Yeah, and it’s the best job of the summer,” Will grumbled.  “You better enjoy it kid.”  He stood up.  “Well, I’ll see you two later,” and he walked up the slope to get back to work.

“Bye,” Danny called.  Turning to Alicia, “So what does berry picking mean I’m doing, exactly?”  He looked around, “I haven’t noticed any berries around here.”

Alice laughed, “no you won’t.  Come inside, I have to show you where you’re going.”

Danny furrowed his eyebrows but followed her into the cabin where some maps of the farm and surrounding area and a large basket sat on the table.

Alice picked up the first map, took a look, then rifled through the pile to find one that had a large circle on it.  “Ah, here it is,” she placed it on top of the pile and pointed to the circled area.  “This is where you’re headed today.”

Danny leaned in to look over the map.  “That looks like it’s in the woods?”

“Yep,” Alicia said, “you’re going to be taking a little walk today.  I’ve got your lunch packed up, all you have to do is fill your canteen, and then head out for the day.”

Danny frowned.  “And how am I supposed to find them?”

Alice rolled her eyes, “They aren’t hard to spot.  Here,” she pointed to a different area of the map, “we are.  You’re going to head this direction,” she moved her finger up, around a small lake, and to the circle.  “It’s pretty easy walking.  The pond will keep you on track, though it’s more like a glorified puddle, but whatever.  You’ll hear the stream feeding into it, so if you do get lost, just hush up and listen.  You’ll pick the berries, put them in this basket, and when it’s full, you’ll head back.  I scoped out the area last year and this was a fairly big thicket, so even if the animals have gotten to it there should still be plenty left for you.”  She looked up at Danny.  “Got it?”

Danny worried his lip.  “I guess?”  He hadn’t really explored the surrounding area, but figured if he needed to, he could just fly up and look for the way back easily enough.

“Good.  Well, get your basket and water and get going.  I’ve got work to get to.  See you for dinner kid,” and Alicia walked out the door.

Danny took another look at the map, doing his best to memorize the path.  He sighed, picking up the basket, stopping by his cabin quickly to grab his water bottle, and started off to the trees. 

Walking into the woods, Danny noticed a strap on the basket and quickly put it over his shoulder.  The basket bobbed against his butt as he walked, but it was better than having to carry it the whole way.  As Danny got further in, the undergrowth increased.  Danny activated his intangibility and walked right through.  The sun was bouncing through the leaves, casting spots of shadow and light.  He heard the birds sitting overhead in the treetops and a beetle buzzed past Danny’s ear.  He made his way to the small lake.

As he got closer, he heard a soft bubbling sound that soon turned into a whoosh.  Then the smell of the dirt changed – rich and a little heavy on the tongue.  Danny walked through a bush and saw the puddle.  If he wasn’t intangible, he would’ve gotten his boots wet. 

Huh, Danny thought.  It really is small.

The pond was only a couple of yards across and looked shallow.

Danny looked to his left and saw the stream that fed into it.  Looking around the edge, he couldn’t find where the pond emptied.  Danny stayed there for moment, comparing what he was seeing to his memory of the map.  Once he felt confident in his orientation, he floated up and drifted across the pond.  Setting himself down on the other side, he double checked his intangibility was still activated and started walking again.  True to Alice’s word, the walk itself was easy, and Danny took the opportunity to look around at the woods.  He spotted a deer in the distance at one point, and what looked like owl nests in some of the branches. 

As he walked through a particularly dense area of bushes, he noticed some mist by a tree some distance away.  Danny squinted at it.  It was too warm in the day for there to be mist and, he looked around, it didn’t look like there was any water for it to come from either.  As he started to walk to it, Danny realized that he hadn’t heard any birds in a while.  Getting closer, he saw some wispy tendrils float out from the densest part of the mist.  He tilted his head.  Let some ectoplasm leak into his eyes.  The mist suddenly contracted and came together to form a vague squirrel shape.  Danny stopped.  Followed the smallest tendril down to the earth.  A squirrel, blood leaking out from a wound on its leg, was connected to it.  Danny looked back up.  The ghost followed the motion and looked at Danny.  Danny looked back.  Blinked.  And stepped forward, holding out a hand.  The squirrel ghost drifted forward and right before it made contact with Danny, turned to look back at its mortal body. 

Danny held his breath as he watched one of the ears tufts twitch.  The squirrel turned back around and jumped forward to touch Danny’s palm.  As it nestled into his hand, its soft, transparent body started to disperse again.  Danny reached for his core and pushed the ectoplasm circulating in his body to his hand.  His palm started glowing green before some ectoplasm coated his palm.  The squirrel started condensing again, pulsing as it made contact.  The ectoplasm flowed off Danny to mix in with the translucent body.  The ectoplasm swirled around like bubbles in soda before losing shape and being absorbed.  The squirrel’s ghost glowed bright and Danny looked away, closing his eyes. 

When he no longer saw the light through his eyelids, Danny cracked open one eye, and confirming the bright light was gone, fully opened both eyes.  What was once a misty looking squirrel ghost was now a small green blob.  As it rotated around, eyes came into view, and opening up, looked at Danny, letting out a small chirrup in greeting.  Danny smiled a little.  It was cute, if a bit sad knowing where this little blob came from.  Danny looked back at the corpse.  Then up to the blob.  The wispy tendril no longer connecting the two.  Danny let his hand drop and the blob stayed floating.  Floated closer to Danny’s face.  He could feel his eyes flash green.  The blob ghost let out another little chirp and flew around Danny head before settling down on his shoulder, nuzzling up into his chin.  Danny laughed at the ticklish sensation and then turned around to continue to the blackberry bushes.

As Danny got to the blackberries, he reached up a hand to the blob ghost.  Gently scooping it into his hand, Danny lifted it up and onto the top of one of the bushes.  Looking around and not seeing any animals, Danny focused on the bushes.  There were a lot of them, and it seemed like the bushes had plenty of berries.  Danny could make out at least 5 bushes growing into each other, and possibly more around some trees.  He knelt down and picked a blackberry, tossing it into his mouth.  As the berry burst open, juices sprayed Danny’s mouth, and he stifled a cough.  He ate it quickly and indulged in a quick cough.  Even though it was smaller than the ones they bought from the store, it was noticeably sweeter.  Danny smiled and swung his basket off his shoulder.  He started carefully plucking berries off, and every time he accidentally squished one, he popped it in his mouth instead of the basket.

At some point the little blob ghost woke up and started darting between the leaves of the berry bushes, occasionally trying to eat one.  Danny laughed at its antics, making a little ball of ectoplasm form, and tossed it for the blob to chase. 

By the time the sun started its afternoon descent, Danny had his basket filled and a happy blob ghost nestled on top of the berries.  Over the course of the afternoon, its green color had started disappearing and now it was more wisp than blob again.  Danny frowned briefly and started off to the farm.

As Danny got near to the edge of the woods, the little ghost had lost all its color and was now back to a translucent wisp.  Before he could give it more ecto, he heard a shout and ran out of the trees.  Aunt Alice had dropped a screwdriver on the ground and when she stood back up from grabbing it, she spotted Danny.  She waved, walking over to him.

“Hey Danny, how was –“ the little ghost darted out from behind Danny’s back, coming to face to face with Alicia.  She frowned.  “how was the trip?”

He pulled the basket forward, “good, there were plenty of blackberries.”

“Aaah good.  Any trouble finding them?”  She eyed the ghost out of the corner of her eye.

“Nope,” Danny paused, and taking a chance, said, “I found this little guy on the way though.”

“Oh?” Alice raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.”  Danny rubbed the back of his neck.  “You can see it, right?”

Alice’s frown lightened.  “Yes.”  Sounding choked up, she cleared her throat.  “Yes, I can.  I didn’t realize -  well, nevermind.”  She looked at the ghost, nuzzling into Danny’s hair, mussing it up.  “I don’t know why it’s acting so friendly, but you best not encourage it.  The less attention you give it, the sooner it’ll pass on.”

Danny’s ears flushed red, “pass on?” he asked.

“Chiiiirup?” said the wispy ghost.

Alice leveled a glare at it.  “Absolutely not.”

Danny’s mouth fell open.  “Wait.  What?  Can you understand it?”

“Sure can.  Ever since I was little,” Alice answered.

“Does Mom know you can see them?  And understand them?”

Alice squinted at him, “Sure does, was the first person I told as a kid.  Real supportive of it all.”

Danny stood there for a moment.  “Mom knows?  And she didn’t have you help her with the – the ghost stuff?”

“Nope.  I was the reason she got into ghosts in the first place, but,” Alice shrugged.  “I didn’t want anything to do with them.  After I got back from the big city, I just wanted to live a quiet life and Maddie respected that.”

“Oh.”  Danny looked between the ghost now on his arm and Alice.  “Really?”

“Yep.”

The ghost floated between the two, circling Alice once before resting back on Danny.

“Well, looks like we should go deal with those blackberries.”

As Danny and Alice finished sorting the blackberries into different containers, Will walked up to them.  “Hey!  Oh, Danny’s back already?”

Alicia snorted at him, “Don’t act surprised.”

Will held up his hands, “Aaah you got me.  I saw you two meet up earlier.”  He quickly reached down to pop one in his mouth.

Alicia smacked his shoulder.  The ghost flew up and chittered angrily in his face.

Will smiled, showing off his berry splattered teeth, completely unrepentant.  Chuckling, he walked off.

Danny looked at the ghost, now flying over the piles of blackberries, and then up at Alice.  “Will didn’t react at all.”

Alice grunted, “Hmm.”

“Are we the only ones who can see this little guy?”

“Far as I can tell, kid.”

“Oh.”  Danny looked off into the tree line.  “Aunt Alice, what did you mean when you said it’d pass on?” 

“Well, exactly what I said.  Little bugger died, and whatever was left will pass on to whatever’s next.  Why?  What’d you think I meant?”

Danny shrugged.  “I guess I’m just not used to ghosts passing on?  Most of the ones I meet stick around and cause trouble.”

“Ah.  Madds has mentioned something like that.  Have they caused you any trouble?” Alice probed.

Danny grimaced.  “I guess you could say that.  A lot of ghosts cause trouble around the high school.”

Alice nodded, “I can see how that’d be distracting.”  Alice watched a bee buzz around the table.  The wispy ghost chased after it.

“Yeah, most of them like to cause problems on purpose, but sometimes there’s the little blobs that hang around and they’re kind of cute, like a stray cat.  They do make it hard to concentrate if it’s dark though.”

“What do ya mean?”

Danny looked back at his aunt.  “Cause, they, you know, glow green?”

“Green?  Huh.  None of the ghosts round here glow green.  I guess Will did mention something similar.  And I remember Maddie showing me a vial of glowing green stuff once.  Made me feel kind of sick.”

“Oh, that vial was probably ectoplasm,” Danny said.

“Ec-toe-plasm?” Alice sounded out.

“Yeah,” Danny said.  “It’s the glowing green stuff that ghosts are made up of.”

“Really?” Alice sounded unimpressed.

“Hmmhmm,” Danny hummed.  “You can kind of see their insides if they get hit with an ectoblast.  It’s all gooey looking, like a really thick liquid.  Their bodies kind of flow back in to fill the hole.”

Alice shook her head.  “I don’t know about all that.  All the ghosts I’ve seen are just misty lookin’ and real hard to see if the sun shines through them.  Well, that’s only if I catch them.  As I said, they don’t usually stick around too long.”

“Interesting.”

Alice shrugged, “I suppose.  Madds had a theory that ghosts only form when the living aren’t prepared to die or something.”  She laughed.  “Not that I think most things around here have unfinished business.  Everyone has a time and place, you know?  A rabbit lives its life knowing it’ll be eaten and all that.”

“I guess.”  Danny thought for a moment.  “I think a lot of the ghosts I know didn’t even think death was a possibility.”

The little ghost zipped under the table and around their feet.

“Perhaps.”

In the time it took for Alice and Danny to finish with the blackberries and prepare dinner, the ghost kept fading bit by bit.  Once Danny rang the dinner bell, the little ghost was completely gone.  Danny tried not to miss it, knowing it was better that the little guy passed on, rather than hang around the ecto deprived area.

____

After dishes, Alice sat Danny down.  “How you doing kid?”

“Fine?” Danny said, voice lilting up like a question.

“You sure?  You looked rather, uh, sad about that little ghost disappearing on us.”

Danny shrugged, “hmm, I guess I’m not used to it.”

“It?”

“Yeah, I’m not used to things just…. Ending.  I guess.”

“Oh, is that it?”

Danny looked off to the setting sun.

“You know, I can sympathize.  Used to be a time when I thought that I could fix anything.”

Danny looked back at her.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, you know I’m divorced right?”

“Sure, Mom visited you on the anniversary for that party last year.”

“Right, well I know it was a big celebration, but when it first happened, I was lost.  I mean, I knew that it was coming.  He didn’t like the farm, fell in love with someone who wanted the city life with him.  A real yuppie.  And yet, when I sat in the lawyer’s office, papers in front of me, there was this emptiness that seemed to take me over.  We both wanted our relationship to end, happy for it even, but, that didn’t make it easier to deal with.  Waking up and knowing that there wasn’t going to be someone by my side?  That there was no fixing it, no going back?  It’s hard to accept that some things just can’t be changed.  Don’t like talking about that even now.”

Danny’s mind flashed briefly to Dan.  His shoulders raised.  “I guess.  How did you deal with it?”

Alice hummed.  “The divorce?  Time, I suppose.  I had the support of the community here.  With death?”  She shrugged.  “I grew up.  At some point you just realize that some things have to happen and you can’t change it, so you have to accept it.”

Danny huffed out air.  “Yeah, alright.”  The variation of the age old excuse of “when you’re older” rang hollow in him.

A hand landed on his shoulder.  He turned back to his aunt.  “Danny.  I mean it.  Some things just need the perspective that time brings.  I’m still not sure my sister has quite grasped that.”  She smiled.  “No fault to her; understanding comes in its’ own time.  Worrying about it won’t help.”

Danny watched the last of the light chase the sun down with his aunt beside him, before standing and heading to his cabin to think.

An hour later, he stood up from his bed and walked down to his aunt’s cabin.  By now, the air was cool against his skin.  The cicadas were out, filling the air with a loud buzz.  Danny stopped halfway down the path, trying to collect himself.  As he stared up at the trees, his eyes burned.  Rubbing them harshly, he breathed in, the smell of dirt and the green leaves settling into his lungs.  He stayed there for a moment, collecting the resolve that started to slip away.  He let out some ectoplasm around his feet to light up his path and continued.  Exiting the trees, Alice’s cabin was lit up, warm light enveloping it like an aura.   Cozy.  Welcoming.  Danny dispelled the ectoplasm around his feet as he walked towards the cabin, each step feeling heavier than the last.  His shoulders curled forward until he stopped at the stairs up to the porch.  He heard Alice set something down inside and a creak of a door, then a click as the front doorknob rotated open.  Danny stayed at the bottom of the stairs, feeling frozen, as the door hinges creaked.  Alice’s red hair came into view first, quickly followed by the rest of her.  Catching sight of something, she raised her head to look at Danny.

“Danny, that you down there?  Everything alright?” voice soft as she stared down at him.

Danny’s body moved, skipping steps as he rushed up to Alice.  Her body swayed backward as he barreled into her, and she wrapped her arms around him to steady them both.

“I died,” Danny said, voice muffled in her shirt.

Alice didn’t say anything for a moment, squeezing Danny close.  His body shook as he cried into her shirt.  After Danny’s shaking petered out, Alice stepped backwards, hand on Danny’s back to nudge him inside.

“Take a seat on the couch, Danny.  You want tea? Hot chocolate?”

Sniffling, he wiped a hand against his nose.  “Hot chocolate please.”  He went to sit on the couch, grief and emptiness gnawing at his insides in equal measure.

The sound of boiling water soon filled the space.  A clink of a mug.  Powder being measured.  The fridge door opening and closing.  Alice walked over to the sofa, two mugs in hand.  Danny unstacked two cup coasters from the pile in the middle of the coffee table, placing them down for Alice.

Danny picked up his hot chocolate and took a sip, holding the warm mug in his hands.  Alice said, “Now, what was that about?”

The silence stretched between them as Danny stared at the wall, quiet.  By the time Alice had finished most of her cup of tea, Danny finally opened his mouth.

“When I was fourteen, I died.”  Silence followed Danny’s statement, Alice’s torso turned towards Danny, but nothing else to indicate she was listening.

Danny let out a shaky breath.  “I didn’t, come back.  All the way.”

Alice took another sip of tea.

Danny set his mug down.  Folded his hands together and set them on his legs.  “I know what it sounds like, but I’m not crazy.  I’m alive, but I’m also, somehow, a ghost?  Not like the one we saw today, but the kind I talked about, the glowing ones.  I think I turned the portal on when I went inside to look.  Not that I remember a lot of that, except for the pain,” Danny laughed, the sound hollow.  “I mean, it wasn’t working before, and after that, it was that glowing green.  It’s kind of pretty, actually?  Or maybe that’s just what I think.  It swirls around, the ectoplasm, like a really slow whirlpool, but it’s vertical like a door, not horizontal like a pool.  It makes it really easy for Mom and Dad to get more ectoplasm samples.  Actually, I gave the ghost today ectoplasm and it kind of turned into what I call a blob ghost?  By the time we made it back to the farm it was back to that wispy appearance, so, I mean, that was different.  But it was interesting, made me think of the blob ghosts back home.  You know, the ones that don’t pass on?  That’s the kind that I’m like.  A ghost.  I mean, I’m alive too, but I’m also a ghost.  I don’t know if that means I’m still dead or not?  I don’t think anyone really knows, but it’s kind of cool because I’m like the town superhe-“

“Danny,” Alice cut in.  Danny stopped.

Alice took a breath.  “Danny, do your parents know?”

Danny’s eyes widened.  He shook his head.

“Are you going to tell them?”

Danny tongue felt stuck to the roof of his mouth, throat tightening as he thought about the answer.  He settled for a small shrug.

“Alright.  Well, I can’t say this isn’t a surprise, but I won’t make you tell your mom or nothing.  Thank you for telling me.”

Danny stared at his mug, still half full.  He picked it back up.  As quiet settled around them, he felt his heart speed up.  Alice set her mug down, now empty.

“But, I don’t think,” Alice started, slow, “that it matters too much.  From what I’ve gathered, dead, alive, or something else, you’re still you.  The caring and hardworking young man that Maddie described is the same one that arrived on my farm.  Sure, you’re not perfect, and the implications of it all is damn worrying, not knowing, but that’s life.”  Alice swung her knee up onto the couch to fully turn her body to face Danny, arm braced along the backrest.  “For what it’s worth, people love you because of who you are, not what you are.  That includes your mom and dad.  Heaven knows when Maddie decides to love someone, she does it with her whole heart, no matter the circumstances.”  She tacked on a lighthearted, “and that includes your fool of a father”.

Danny laughed, rubbing his eyes of residual tears.  “Thanks, Aunt Alice.  I’ll keep that in mind.”

Danny finished off his hot chocolate, bidding his aunt a goodbye, and walking back up to his cabin, feeling lighter than he had in a while.

______

During that week, Danny started helping out even more on the farm, volunteering to lend an extra hand when needed or after his own tasks were finished.  He was getting comfortable with the flow of the days – spending mornings and evenings with the animals, afternoons in the fields, and helping out with various chores.  It was easy to fall into the rhythm and to trade playful quips with Will and Alice when they worked together.

Alice called Danny over one day.

“What’s up, Aunt Alice?”

“You know anything about machines?”

“Uuuh,” Danny’s eyebrows shot up, “I guess?  I’m familiar with my parents’ inventions.”

“Hmmm.  Why don’t you come over here then and tell me what you think.”

Danny peered his head into the propped open tractor hood, looking at the mechanics.  “It looks like the belt, here,” Danny pointed, “is wearing out.”

Alice appraised him.

Danny shifted his weight.  “Uh, was that it?” he asked nervously, feeling like he was taking a surprise pop quiz.

“Yea.  Yea, it was kid.  You familiar with engines?”

Danny made a face, “Sure?  I’ll help my dad out sometimes when there’s a problem with the GAV.”

“The GAV?”

“Oh, it’s our family car.  Or van, RV, thing?  My parents souped it up, so a lot of service shops won’t even look at it.  My dad keeps up with most of the maintenance on it and makes me help out.”

Alice nodded, “Ok, makes sense I suppose.  Well, if you’ve got a familiarity with it all, why don’t you help me replace it.  I’ve got a spare belt down in my cabin.  I’ll go grab it and you can get the tools we need.  Just look in the toolboxes around here, find the one we need for the tractor.”

Danny nodded in agreement and Alice walked off to get the part.

Later that night at dinner, Alice remarked to Will that it might be time to let Danny drive the tractor.

“Sure thing boss!  Who’s gonna teach him?”

“I will.  I’ll start him off with parking it in the barn, so tomorrow just leave it out when you’re done and I’ll walk him through it.”

Will nodded and continued eating.

“I’m what?” Danny asked.

Alice raised an eyebrow.

Danny swallowed his bite of food.  “Can I even do that?  I don’t have a learner’s permit or anything.”

From beside him, Will answered, “Don’t need one.  Most kids ‘round here start driving tractors much younger than you are.  It’s not like you’re going to be driving down the road or anything in it.”

“Oh.  You don’t need a license for it?”

“No sirree, and it ain’t that hard to do either.”

Alice piped up, “You good with that?”

“Oh.  Yeah. I guess, I just wasn’t expecting it.”

The rest of the night and next day passed calmly.  Then came Danny’s first lesson.

“When you go to park it, don’t forget to let it out of gear and apply the parking brake.  That’s about it.  So, you good to go?”

“I think so, Aunt Alice.”

“Alright, well don’t forget your ear protection, and I’ll let you get to it.”

Alice swung the door closed and stepped back from the tractor.

Danny put on the headset, and did one last review of everything, before he turned the tractor on.  Looking behind him, clocking Alice still off to the side, he carefully backed up the tractor.  Slowed down and came to a stop.  Danny turned forward again and started moving the tractor forward.  Taking a circle around, he pulled up to the storage barn and eased the tractor in.  Applying the brake and turning it off, he took off his ear protection and stepped out.

“Not bad kid, not bad.  Now help me look everything over before we head back for dinner.”

Alice walked Danny through the daily checks and maintenance on the tractor, then showed him where they kept their log.

“What it comes down to, is if you notice a problem, either stop and fix it right away, or come get me or Will if you can’t figure it out.  I’d rather you waste an hour doing that, then pushing through it and messing up the tractor on us.”

The bell rang out, clear and bright.  Alice glanced out of the barn doors.  “Well, guess it’s quitting time for ya.  Let’s get this put back and get our asses down there.”  Alice handed the binder back to Danny, who placed it back on the small table and hurried to close the doors and catch up with Alice.

Another week passed, with Danny learning how to operate the tractor, hitching up different attachments, and getting used to the daily checks. 

“I think it’s time to start harvesting the far wheat fields tomorrow.”

“Already?” Will asked.

“Yeah, it’s ready to go.”

“Huh.  Alright, if you say so boss.”

“Will I be helping with that?” Danny asked.

Alicia nodded, “you’ll be here through this first harvest, then you’ll head back to Amity after that.”

“Oh.”  Danny forgot he’d be heading back soon.  “Right.”

“So soon?” Will asked.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.  Madds reminded me that their school year starts earlier in the season.”  Alice shook her head, “seems ridiculous, but there’s nothing to be done for it.  The cities run on their own timeline.”

“Wait, then when do schools around here start?  And where’s the school?  I don’t remember seeing one when you showed me around town,” Danny asked.

“Oh, about a month later than yours I reckon.  The school isn’t on the main roads.  It’s back on one of the side roads, so the farm kids can get to it easier.”

“Used to be in the town,” Will added.  “When most of the town families moved out, the farm kids got together and convinced the adults to move it closer to them, oh, I reckon ‘bout 20 years ago?”

“Closer to 25 I think,” Alice corrected.  “I remember the big commotion when I visited from college.  Maddie, I think, organized it all.”

“Sounds like Maddie,” Will agreed.

“Mom did that?” Danny asked.

“Sure enough.  Everyone knows she’s a force of nature when she puts her mind to something.  She argued with near everyone about it.”

“Don’t know why she fought so hard for it,” Will added.  “Had to have been her senior year, didn’t even make a difference for her, considering the changes took place after she headed off to college.”

“Huh.”

“She never mentioned it to you?”

“No, not really.  But it explains where Jazz got her single-mindedness from.  She turned our annual Spirit Rally into a whole week at Casper High during her freshman year.”  Danny grimaced, “My freshman year, I got put in a diaper and thrown on stage for it.”

Will laughed and Danny scowled at him.  “Sorry, but just a diaper?”

“Are you kidding?” Alice was flabbergasted.

“Wish I was, it wasn’t funny.”

“Sorry, but you have to admit, that’s just a little funny,” Will chuckled.

“It really wasn’t.  Also, our counselor tried murdering Jazz.”

Will stopped laughing.  “What.”

“Yeah, she ended up getting, uh, jail, for it.”

Alice narrowed her eyes, “Really?”

“Yep,” Danny said, “last year wasn’t so bad though.  Hardly anyone called me a baby the whole week.”

“Damn.”

“What the hell is happening in those cities.”

The sudden somber shift made the conversation die down and dinner was finished quickly after.

The next morning, the bell rang out clear and sharp.  Danny blinked his eyes open, noticing it was still dark out.  Stumbling out of his cabin, he turned to Will, who was passing by.  “Why’re we up so early?” Danny yawned, pulling on a long sleeved shirt.

Will returned his yawn, jaw cracking in the early morning air.  “Oh, we do most of our harvesting in the morning or evening.  Means real early mornings the next few days.  S’not so bad, once you get used to it.”

“Mmm.” Danny responded, following Will downhill.

“Hey Alice.  You got the coffee brewing?”

“Hey, boys.  Sure do.  Another couple minutes or so, then we can get started.”

After getting their coffee in thermoses, the group headed up to the fields.  Danny was put on tractor duty.  Alice took over the truck with a wagon attached and Will was in charge of the forage harvester.  With the exception of taking care of the animals, Danny and Alice traded back and forth on filling up their collection wagons and running them to the silo.

Soon enough, the harvest passed and it was time for Danny to return to Amity Park.

“Yep, got it sis.”  A pause.  “Uh huh.” 

“No, no need, I’ll take him myself.”

“Of course I do.”

“No, it’ll be fine.  A short trip up.”

“Will can do what needs to be done.”

“Yes I’m sure.”

“Uh huh.  See ya then.”

“Take care Maddie.”  Alicia put down the phone and turned to Danny, seemingly unsurprised to see him leaning against the wall.  “Well, I’ll be driving you back up to Amity in a few days.”

Danny nodded, not looking particularly taken back, despite the fact that his aunt hadn’t gone up to Amity in the past 10 years or so.

The corners of Alice’s mouth turned up, “alright then, make sure you’re ready.  It’ll take a couple days, since you can’t help with driving, but it should be a nice enough trip.”

“Anything to do before then?”

“Nope, the only thing left to do is to check on the truck.  As much of a help as you’ve been with the tractor, I’ll be doing that.  You just make sure you help out Will with any odd jobs before then.”  Alice scratched the back of her neck.  “Uuh, ya excited to be heading back?”

Danny shrugged his shoulders.  “I guess.”  He looked out the kitchen window, “I’ll miss being here though.  I know I caused some trouble when I first got here, but it grew on me.”  Danny smiled softly.

“It has a way of doing that,” Alice agreed.  “Well, let’s get back to work then.  It doesn’t stop for rain nor shine.”

Danny finished loading up his bags in the short backseat and closed the back door.  Hauling himself into the front passenger seat, he closed the front door.

“Got everything squared away?”

“Yep.  Double checked and everything.”  Turning to grin at her, “but if I forgot anything, that just means I’ll have to come back.”

Alice laughed and shifted the gear to start the truck rumbling down the path.  Soon enough, bouncing along the road, a dust cloud behind them, the farm was swallowed up by trees. 

The journey itself was uneventful.  The mountains turning to valleys turning to farms turning to small cities and large ones, a one night stop at a motel, then back on the road, and finally Danny recognized the outskirts of Elmerton in the distance.  He could feel the rumbling of something in his stomach, and it solidified into a nervous ball when they crossed the town limits. 

Elmerton had enough tall buildings that Danny couldn’t see over into Amity Park, but he could feel the flow of ambient ectoplasm moving about like chem trails, signifying the presence of a visiting ghost.  Next to him, Alice clutched the steering wheel hard enough to turn her knuckles white.  Coming to a red light, she glanced over at Danny and noticed his pinched eyebrows, eyes on her hands.  She sighed softly, relaxing her hands and hitting the accelerator when the light turned.  The sun filtered through the buildings, casting long lines of shadow that waved over the truck passing through.  Danny turned to look out the window, head in hand, braced against the door.  It was quiet, no ghostly interference on this side of town.  Nevertheless, he could feel the ectoplasm that floated in Amity’s air reach out tendrils in Danny’s direction.  Welcoming him home, beckoning him closer, wanting to wrap him up in its embrace.  He shuddered.  After getting used to a non-ecto infused environment, the not quite alive reaction of the ectoplasm felt like a slimy slick hand on his shoulder, slipping off before trying to embrace him again.  He didn’t notice Alice next to him, her breathing becoming shallow and quick.

As the truck crossed over the interstate separating the two cities, Danny shuddered, feeling the sharp contrast of a decidedly unhaunted city to one that almost had more ghostly visitors than alive ones.  He could feel the boundary like he was pulled through a film, the ectoplasmic residue clinging to his skin on the other side, settling back into his nose and lungs, coating the back of his throat and cooling his hands.  It wasn’t enough that someone like Valerie – fully human - would notice, but being so attuned to the presence of ectoplasm as a being shaped by it, Danny could feel it like a physical weight, bearing down heavier on him the closer they sped to FentonWorks.  Alice’s hands lightly shook as she clasped the stick to shift down.

Pulling up to the side of FentonWorks, Alice stopped the car.  They both sat there for a moment, breathing in the quiet of the street, before a far-off blaster shot echoed in the distance.  Danny turned to Alice, a wobbly smile on his face, “home sweet home,” he said, punctuating it with a little laugh. 

Alice looked past him to the door, then back to Danny.  “I suppose so,” mouth set in a thin line.

Danny turned away, not wanting to parse what Alicia was feeling, and unclicked his seat belt.  He opened the door to slide out of the truck.  Alice followed him out and walked around to knock on the front door.  As her first rap against the door ended, weapons sprung out of the sides of the walls, focused down on her.  Alice jumped back a little as a light popped out of the door, scanning Alice from head to toe.  “Freaky,” she muttered darkly as something dinged and the door clicked open, the differential air pressure opening it further.  Alice turned back around to Danny, “What was that?”

Danny shrugged, “It seems Mom and Dad added some things while I was away.”

Alice gaped at Danny.  “Added some things?  What was it like before?”

Popping open the back door to grab his bags Danny said over his shoulder, “Oh, the weapons have been there since the first house defense upgrade, but the unlocking is new.”

Alice looked back to the door.  “That’s the new part?”  She hesitantly reached a hand out and tapped the door hard enough to swing it open the rest of the way.  She leaned forward a little.  “Uuuh,” she started, peering in.  Clearing her throat, she spoke up, “Anyone home?  I’ve got your boy back Maddie!”

Danny walked up beside her.  “I wouldn’t wait for an answer Aunt Alice.  It’s best to just walk in and take a seat.”  Danny did so himself, setting his bags next to the stairs and walking back to the truck.  Alice walked in, tentatively lowering herself down to the couch, and looked around wide eyed.

“Just what in the world has my sister been up to?” she said mostly to herself.

The slamming of a door and a loud beep sounded out as the truck was closed and locked.  Danny walked in with Alice’s bag and closed the door behind him.  “Seen anyone yet?”  he asked.

Alice swung her head around to stare at Danny, “No, not yet.”  She gestured around at the living room, a myriad of objects on the table, hung on the wall, or thrown onto a shelf.  “Danny, what is all this?”

Danny barely glanced down before making his way to the kitchen, “probably broken ghost inventions.  I wouldn’t touch any of them though, they can be a bit, well, temperamental.”

The sound of a cabinet door squeaking open, running water, and Danny came back with a water glass for himself and Alice.  “Here ya go,” he said, holding one of them out.

Alice absently took the glass and sipped from it.  Choking and spluttering, she set the glass down on the coffee table, slapping a hand against her leg.  She collected herself, wheezing, and looked up as green light tinted her peripheral vision.

“Oh Alice!  And Danny!!  I didn’t hear you two come in,” Maddie said after exiting the downstairs lab.  She quickly went over and swept Danny up into a big hug.  “Oh, I missed my sweet little baby boy.”  Giving Danny one last squeeze, she stepped over to Alice to do the same.

A clang could be heard, echoing up the lab stairs and then some thumps as Jack made his way up.  Danny set his glass down in anticipation.  No sooner did Jack realize Danny was home than he rushed over, knocking over a chair in the process, scooping Danny up into a bone crushing hug.  “DANNY BOY!” was shouted right into his ear.

Danny did his best to move his wrists enough to pat his dad back.  “Hey Dad.  Just got back.”  He paused and with no indication that Jack was going to let go anytime soon, “Can you let me go now?  It’s hard to breathe.”

Jack, embarrassed, let him go, giving him a firm pat on the back, “Sorry about that, I was just so excited to see you back home!  JAAAAAZZIE-PANTS!”  He called out.

Alice clasped a hand to her ear, scowling as Maddie looked on fondly.  “Oh honey, no need to yell like that.”  She turned to face her sister.  “It’s so good to see you here Alice.  I don’t remember the last time you visited and things have changed so much since then.  Jazz was just toddling around and we still had the play pen set up for Danny.”  Taking a seat, she pulled on Alice’s sleeve, inviting her to sit next to her.  “I missed you,” Maddie said.

Alice coughed and looked around the room, “I missed you too Maddie.  If you ever want to visit the farm more often, you could.”

Maddie laughed and waved her hand around, “Oh our work keeps us so busy nowadays.  Speaking of, I hope you didn’t run into any ghosts on your drive in?” Eyes twinkling, Maddie waited for the answer.

Alice frowned at her, “No, we didn’t,” and watched as her eyes dimmed a little.

“Aah well, that’s alright, I’m glad you two made the trip up here safely.  Speaking of, I was thinking we could all head out for dinner tonight?  I know it’s not often you’re in the city, so it might be nice.”

Jack leaned down to Danny and whispered conspiratorially, “We had an ecto sample explode in the fridge.  All the food is completely inedible, but wouldn’t you know it?  The old chicken and hot dogs started a little kingdom in there.  Fascinating stuff Danny.  Really.”  He looked over at him, “Would you like to meet them?”

Danny grimaced more than smiled, “Uuuh no thanks Dad.  I think I want to get started unpacking instead.”

Slapping a hand to his forehead, “That’s right!  I won’t keep you Danny.  Go take your bags up to your room, we’ll visit with your aunt down here.”

A boom echoed through the neighborhood and Maddie jumped, starting to reach a hand for her blaster before relaxing, continuing the conversation she was having with Alice.  Danny stopped briefly to grab his bags and headed up the stairs towards his room.  As he reached the top, Jazz’s door clicked open and she stepped out. 

“Danny!  You’re back!” she said.  Stepping forward, she wrapped Danny up in a hug, chin poking into his head as she said, “I missed you little brother.”

Danny awkwardly stood there holding his bags, “Missed you too Jazz.”  He swayed a bag a little to knock into her leg.

“Oh!” she said, releasing him, “Sorry, I’ll let you get to your room.”  Smiling at Danny for a moment, Jazz started down the stairs. 

As Danny kicked his door open, he heard Jazz greet their aunt.  Dropping his bags down in front of his dresser, he jumped up onto his bed.  “Uuuuuuuugh,” the groan rumbling throughout his chest.  He breathed out, then rolled over onto his back, arms flung out and over the sides of his bed.  Danny stared up at the glow in the dark stars, stuck on his ceiling years ago.  He had barely been gone for a couple months, but already his room felt slightly foreign - like returning somewhere he didn’t fit into anymore.  It was like an old sweater you found again after a few years.  Slipping it on and knowing every seam, texture, and fold as it settles around you, but no longer the same comforting weight – a little too thin, worn at the elbows and a hem starting to unstitch itself.  Not as soft as you wanted to remember.  Exactly the same, but time having polished away the fondness that once endeared it to you.

Danny rolled over onto his side, staring into his closet.  The sliding door left cracked open from when Danny slammed it shut, the recoil pushing it back open before he left.  He heard the cadence of a conversation float up the stairs and he closed his eyes.

Waking up to someone shaking his shoulder, he blinked awake.  His room had darkened with the setting of the sun and Danny felt groggy.  “MmMMMmm?” he hummed.

“Danny, we’re going to head out to the Nasty Burger for dinner.  You gonna get up and come with?”

Danny bolted up, smacking his head into Jazz’s hand still hovering above him.  “Up!  I’m up!” he said.

Jazz chuckled, “See you downstairs,” and left his room.

Danny braced himself on his arms, letting the thrum of his heart settle back down from the adrenaline rush.  After a moment he swung his legs down.  A quick detour to the second floor bathroom later and Danny joined everyone else downstairs. 

“Alright, now that we’ve got everyone here – to the GAV!” Jack announced.

Danny sleepily followed Jazz out to the garage and clambered into his seat.  Alice, who was following Danny, stopped at the open door.  Looking around the retrofitted RV, she hummed and side-eyed Jack who had turned the key in the GAV, prompting the consol to light up in a variety of buttons and gauges.  She stepped into the back and climbed into one of the open seats.  Maddie closed the door behind Alice and got herself into the passenger seat.  After clicking her seatbelt in and checking that the kids had as well, she pushed a button, the garage doors clanking open behind them.  Jack flipped on the headlights and backed out of the garage.

“Hold on,” Danny hissed up to Alice, who in turn, grabbed onto the hold bar at the top of the door. 

Once Jack cleared the sidewalk and safely backed onto the street, he stepped on the gas and catapulted the GAV down the street, careening around corners, and speeding through yellow lights till they swayed to a halt in the Nasty Burger parking spot.  Jazz sighed, Danny let out his breath, and Alice looked a little green.  “ Does your husband always drive like that Maddie?”

Maddie turned around, unclicking her seatbelt, “Like what, Alice?”

Alice eyed Jack nervously before looking back at her sister, “Uuuuh.  Nevermind Maddie.  Let’s go,” and she opened up the sliding door to shakily step out.

The Fentons and Alice went into the Nasty Burger, quickly ordering food and sitting down at a booth.  The chatter of the restaurant was pleasant, if a little overwhelming to Danny.  He decided to listen to his family’s conversation and looked out the window.  As Alice asked after Jazz’s college adventures, Danny saw a bright blast light up the sky.  He blinked and took a moment to process as a streak slithered through the air.  A ghost!  He turned around, nudged Jazz out of the booth, and slid out with a halfhearted excuse about the bathroom before making his exit.  Hiding behind the dumpster, Danny transformed and flew off after the ghost that he could still see winding around the tops of buildings.  The trusty Fenton thermos clattered against his leg as the wind whipped Danny’s hair into his face.  Coming up to a stop, he watched the ghost slow down over the park, then dive down.  Danny pushed himself into action, darting into the tree tops to see where it went.  He heard the whine of a blaster charge up below him and Danny looked down.  Tucker stood there, a small blaster leveled at the backside of the ghost.  Danny flew up towards the sky and starting arcing down the other side.  Before he could do much, Sam ran out from the other side of the trees shooting at the ghost.  A low hum joined the chorus of weapons and Danny turned invisible as the Red Huntress caught up to the ghost. 

Danny drifted up higher, watching the teamwork between the three of them.  They quickly captured the ghost.  He lazily drifted down to the trio.

“Huh, didn’t know you guys would team up,” Danny said, turning visible.

Tucker flinched and the girls rolled their eyes.

“Hey Danny,” Sam greeted.

Valerie retracted her helmet and stared at Phantom for a moment before, “Hi, Danny.”

Danny’s eyebrows flew up, pinched together.

Tucker laughed at his expression as it quickly morphed into a look of betrayal aimed at Sam and Tucker.

“Sorry Danny,” Sam looked away.  “Val kind of… figured it out?”

“Sam!” Danny hissed, voice crackling like steam.  “What does that mean?”  His eyes darted back to Valerie, who just stood there, looking conflicted.

“Exactly what I said Danny!”

Danny shifted so he could stand on the ground.  “But how?”  He was starting to get angry at the lack of answers.  It hadn’t even been two months and without being around Valerie somehow pieced together his biggest secret?

Tucker’s laughter died down.

“It’s – Danny please don’t be mad,” Valerie spoke up.  Her eyes darted around the clearing before landing back on Danny.  “When Phantom disappeared after Fenton left it wasn’t hard to figure out you two were connected somehow.  And then Dani stopped by in town and-“

“Dani came back?” Danny interrupted.  He glowered at Sam and Tucker, eyes glowing brighter for a moment.

“It wasn’t a big deal!” Tucker tried to defend.

“Yeah!” Sam chimed in.  “She was here for like, a day?  Maybe?  Hardly worth mentioning.  She spent most of it playing pranks on Vlad.”

“And Valerie met up with her?  But not me?”  Danny voice raised in pitch, “I missed seeing my cousin and you didn’t say a word?!?  I thought I wouldn’t have had to tell you two that Dani coming back would be something important to mention.”

Tucker’s shoulders crept up to his ears.

Sam rolled her eyes.  “Really, Danny, it is so not a big deal.  We didn’t even know for most of that day.  She only came to see us towards the end of her stop.”

Danny’s core felt a sting go through it.

“Did she know I was coming back?”

“Yeah dude, we mentioned you were sent to your aunt’s farm.  She asked about you!  Promise!  Once she realized that, she told us she’d try to stop by to see you.  Seemed really excited to check out a farm.”

“Although,” Sam chimed in, “I don’t think she realized you’d be back so soon?  If you never saw her, she probably got distracted by something on her way.”  Seeing Danny’s sad expression, Sam said, “I’m sure she’ll be back to visit you, Danny.  She did say she’d stop by at least a few times a year to check in, right?”

Danny sighed.  “Yeah.  I’m just bummed that I missed her.  And with no way to get into contact with her,” he trailed off.

“Actually,” Valerie started, “Uhm, I gave her a little, well, kind of like a cell phone?  It can make calls, but it’s also got a little button to send a distress signal to my suit if need be?  And seeing as it’s never gone off, Dani’s okay.  Ok, Danny?”

Danny looked down at the ground.  “Alright.  I guess that’s better.”  He looked preoccupied - lost in thought and still a little sullen.

Sam, Tucker, and Valerie exchanged glances with one another over Danny’s bowed head.

Valerie gave a little cough.  Seeing Danny head twitch at that, she said, “I saw Dani transform after one of her pranks.  I was stopping by Vlad’s office to see if I could find anything new.”  Valerie paused.  “She looks a lot like you Danny.  And once I saw that, and my suit recognized her like any other human, I approached her.  She explained a lot to me and after getting lunch, I brought her around to Sam and Tucker.”

Danny looked up at his best friends.  “Really?  Valerie had to bring Dani to you guys?”

Sam nodded and watched Danny’s expression lift at the confirmation.

“Anyway, Sam didn’t tell me anything, but Tucker told me about the whole,” she waved her hands around, “Cujo?  The ghost dog thing.”  She sighed.  “It wasn’t easy to sort through it all, but I realized that I was being really unfair to you Danny.  I’m sorry for not hearing you out about it earlier.”

Danny shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  “Oh, well.  That’s?  Ok?  I mean it’s not okay okay, but I understand.  Why you acted like you did.  Life dealt you a really bad hand with everything and you were dealing with a lot with your dad and his job and the A Listers and everything so – “ a hand settled on his shoulder.

“Danny,” Valerie cut in.  “You don’t to forgive me right away.  I’ve had a few weeks to deal with this.  I just wanted you to know that I know about your … situation and that we – Red Huntress and Phantom – are cool now.”  A bell tolled somewhere in the town.  Valerie looked up at the street lamps turning on.  “Anyway, I’ve got to get back, but it was nice to see you Danny.”  She gave him a little smile, activated her hoverboard and helmet, and flew off.

Watching Valerie fly off, all three of them stood still for a moment.

“Well,” Danny started, “I’ve got to get back.”

As he started moving to walk off, Sam grabbed his arm, “Are you mad at us?”

Danny turned around.  “No, Sam.  I’m not.  I just – I’ve had a long day and I want to go eat dinner.  Can we get talk about this tomorrow?”

“Promise?  I’ve got a new game I can bring over to play,” Tucker offered.

Danny smiled at them, “That sounds good.  I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Danny started walking backwards and turned invisible from one step to the next.  He flipped up into the air and flew off, back to the Nasty Burger.  He transformed in a stall, washed his hands, and walked out to the booth.  As everyone turned to look at him, Danny’s neck flushed red.  “Hi.”

“You doing alright Danny?” Jack asked.

“Uuuh yeah, just,” Danny paused, “had to take a dump?”  He slid into the booth, Jazz pushing over his tray of food.

“If you say so m’boy.” Jack shoved more fries into his mouth.

Jazz scolded her father for his manners and Maddie smiled fondly at her eldest.

Danny inhaled a third of his burger and as he took a sip of pop, looked over at his aunt.  Alice had a smile on her face, but it was stretched a little thin, eyes crinkling right underneath them, a fist on the table and body turned, supported by the window and booth back.  Danny went back to eating his burger.  Aunt Alice had looked like she was in pain that she was trying to hide ever since they entered Amity Park’s borders earlier.  He hoped she would be fine considering Maddie had wrangled her into staying for a couple days.  Danny ended up ordering another burger and Jazz decided to split a small shake with Maddie.  Once they had finished eating, they climbed back into the GAV and headed home.  Danny started feeling sleepy again, leaning his head on the cool window, watching the streetlights pass by.  Jazz looked over at her brother, noticing how relaxed he looked.  She missed him.

“You know Danny,” she started, “you look so much more relaxed than before.”

Danny glanced over at her.  “I’m not giving you the satisfaction of saying you were right.”

Jazz smiled softly as Danny’s head rolled back against the window.  “I wouldn’t expect anything else little brother,” she whispered.

___

Danny heard the clicks and whine of the Fenton door weapons activate and after a few seconds, the doorbell rang out.  He left his room, heading down the stairs to hear his mom invite Sam and Tucker in.

“Hey guys,” he called down the half flight of stairs.  He waited for them to start walking up before he turned around and led them to his room.

Pushing open his door, he dropped onto his chair.  Tucker grabbed a spot on his bed and Sam, after closing the door, took a spot at the foot of the bed.

“So,” Sam started.

“So,” Tucker added.

“Soooo,” Danny finished, “any thing else I should really know that you didn’t bother to update me on?”

Tucker winced at Danny’s tone.

“Nope,” Sam popped the p.  “Vlad’s still mayor,” she ticked up a finger.  “No new halfas that we know of, no new ghosts.”

“Oh!” Tucker interjected.  “Dash had a wipe out on a skateboard.”  He looked smug, “I caught it on video, wanna see?”

“Yes!” Danny cheered, leaning forward to watch.

Sam scoffed at them, but she also leaned in.

After catching up on all the little things Danny missed over the summer – a new girl moved in next to Tucker, Sam’s petitions and protests, teaming up with Valerie – Danny stood up and stretched.  His spine let out a loud crack and Tucker gaped at him.

“Geez, are you okay?  What were you even doing on that farm?”

“Yeah Danny, you sounded like my Bubeleh and she’s, like, 80.”

Danny laughed, sitting back down.  “Actually, I think that was because I’ve been sitting so much the past few days.  I was pretty active before that.”  He thought for a moment.  “I might be able to beat Dash in a race now.”

Tucker snorted, “I don’t know dude, he decided to start working on his legs this summer.  He’s no longer, like, a Dorito with sticks for legs.”

Sam definitely didn’t giggle as she said, “But sure, we’ll take your word for it, Danny.”

Danny rolled his eyes as he sat back in the chair.  “Alright, enough teasing me.”

“Yeah, let’s talk about Sam ditching our elective class to take environmental sciences.  Can you believe she disrupted our carefully crafted schedule that ensured we shared as many classes as possible just for?  What was it?  The earth?  Can you believe Same is ditching us like this?”

“Huh,” Danny said, he turned to Sam, “what’s that class even about.”

Sam glared over at Tucker before looking at Danny, “I’m glad someone here is taking an interest in the important things in life.”  Sam launched into an hour long explanation.  After the first five minutes, Tucker had pulled out his PDA to play a game, mouthing along to parts of Sam’s explanation from time to time.  Danny got the basic idea shortly after that.  He started to tune out, thinking about school.  How in 2 short weeks, he’d be back in the classroom, probably juggling ghost attacks, Dash, the other A Listers, homework, and sitting in a cramped chair for hours on end.  The sun coming through his window warmed Danny’s side.  He glanced outside at the street.  A bird flew across, but otherwise it was buildings, sidewalk, and asphalt as far as he could see.  No green at all.  He wondered if Undergrowth would make another appearance, and if Danny could convince him to –

“Danny, are you even listening to me?” Sam’s sharp voice called out.

Danny whipped his head away from the window, “Uh, yeah, Sam, I’m listening.  You were saying something about,” he searched his short term memory, “the climate?”

Sam huffed and crossed her arms, “So, as I was saying – “

“As she was saying,” Tucker interrupted.  “She’s shamelessly ditching us, Danny.  Can you believe it?” Tucker slid dramatically off the bed and grabbed Danny’s jeans, “and Sam doesn’t even care!” he cried.

“Tucker, you know that’s not it,” Sam reprimanded.  “Besides, didn’t you sign up for Advanced Algebra or Calculus or something?  You’re also ditching us.”

Turning around to face her, Tucker gasped.  “How. Dare. You.  It’s Finite/Brief Calculus and that’s only because they refused to put me in the computer class again this year.”

Danny laughed, “That’s because you hacked the school’s computers and played that banana song over the intercom for all of lunch.

“Because peanut butter jelly time is a classic,” Tucker grumbled.  He got up, sitting back on the bed.  “Anyway, you should have your schedule by now too.  Have you looked at it?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck, “eh?  I think my parents handed it to me this morning, but I didn’t take a look.”

“Oh, well then what are you waiting for?  Let’s see it!  I want to see how many classes we share this year!”  Sam demanded.

Danny sat up in his chair and rolled over to his desk.  Grabbing the school letter, he opened it, gave the schedule a once over, and then surrendered it to his friends.  Sam grabbed the paper and her and Tucker leaned over it.

“It looks like we share PE again Danny,” Tucker held up his hand for a high five as he continued looking at the schedule.

“We all share chemistry this year, right before lunch,” Sam added.

“Oh nice.  And look – we end the day together in art too,” Tucker pointed with his other hand.  Sam and Tucker looked over at Danny.  “Dude?”

Danny stared past them, eyes not focusing on anything.  When Tucker waved his hand in front of his face, he jolted back to focus and gave a half hearted smile as he high fived Tuck.  “Yeah, that’s great.”

Sam narrowed her eyes at Danny, “that doesn’t sound very enthusiastic.  Are you not excited for this year Danny?”

A shrug was her answer.  “I don’t know.”

Tucker glanced over at Sam, “What do you mean?  When you finished summer school, you seemed pretty thrilled to finalize your schedule request and send it in.”

Danny looked out the window, “Yeah, I know.  And I was.”

“Was?” Sam echoed.

“Well, this summer on the farm was a lot different.  I liked it, being outside and stuff.  Working on things, knowing that I was making a difference for people.”

“Danny,” Tucker started. “Do you not want to be in Amity anymore?”

Danny whipped his head to stare at Tucker, “Oh course I want to be here!  I missed you guys so much!  And I missed a lot of other stuff too!”

“Danny.”  Sam waited until he looked at her.  “You can have missed us, and not want be in Amity Park.”

Danny dropped his gaze to the carpet between their feet.  “Yeah, I know that.  I do want to be here.  I do!” 

He fell silent, struggling for a moment.

“I just – it’s so much, you know?  The ghosts, and Dash, and school, and my parents, and all of it.  It’s so much, all the time, without a break.  And I don’t feel like I have a choice in any of it either.  Obviously I can’t skip school and I can’t avoid Dash.  We live in the same town after all, and there’s only like, three places for teenagers to hang out.  And then the ghosts on top of that!  And the ghosts are here because of my parent’s portal, but I’m the one that turned it on – I can’t just ignore that the ghosts are causing problems even if I want to.  I don’t feel like I have a choice but to take responsibility and step in.  And I know you guys have been helping Val and stuff, but -”  Danny shrugged his shoulders. 

“I like being on the farm.  It’s quiet.  And even when there are ghosts,” he noticed their faces, “– and there are ghosts,” Danny confirmed, “they’re different!  They don’t cause trouble.  It’s like,” Danny waved his hand around, “everything’s so close to the cycle of living and dying and everything has it’s time from the plants to the animals and like – uuuuugh,” Danny threw his hands up.  “I don’t know how to explain it.  Death is always a part of living and everyone out there is used to it being a part of life, so when it happens it’s less of a tragedy?”  Danny looked away.  “I guess,” he scratched his arm and fell quiet. 

Sam and Tucker looked at Danny, waiting for him to clear up what he was trying to say.  The wind pushed against his window, a slight whistle from uneven weathering strips cutting through the quiet of the room.  Danny sighed and looked at the ground in front of his feet.  “I feel like less of a freak for dying and coming back when I’m out there.”

“Oh Danny!” Sam moved forward.

Tucker let out a quiet “Danny”.

Danny pushed away from them in his chair, rolling back some.  Rubbing his arms he said “I mean, I know I’m not a freak or anything, but it’s hard to forget that I died when I’m in Amity, you know?  I can’t escape reminders of it and that it makes me different from everyone else.  When I’m out there on the farm it’s just?  I feel at rest.”  He laughed, “that’s stupid isn’t it?”  He ran a hand through his hair. Looking up at them, “A ghost who feels at rest.  But DAMN!  I do, getting to be part of life and death like that makes me feel normal – I feel like I belong out there.”

“Danny,” Tucker glanced over at Sam before turning back, “Danny, do you want to stay there?”

“Tucker!” Sam admonished, “I don’t think –“

Danny laughed, “Yeah, I think I might want to….  Would you hate me if I left you guys again?”

Sam rushed forward to pull Danny into a hug.  “Oh Danny, I don’t think we could ever hate you.”

Tucker joined in, “Yeah, we’ll just have to visit you.”

Danny’s smile was smushed against both their shoulders.

“Do you think I could get internet out there?”

And all three of them laughed.

_________

“So, that’s what I want to do.  If I can,” Danny said.  He stared at the coffee table in front of him.  His parents sat on the couch across from him.

“Well, Danny, I don’t know if we’ll be able to do that.”

“But if that’s what you want, we’ll support you son!”

Danny looked up and gave him parents a smile, “Thanks.”

_______

It turned out Alice was familiar with the work programs that the local school utilized for their students.  It consisted of students taking the core classes, like math and science, in the mornings, and then working on the farm in the afternoons.

The trick was getting Casper High to agree.  But between Alice and Maddie, there was no trouble convincing Principal Ishiyama and Mr. Lancer that Danny would be better off in the modified program.  As long as he came back to take the state proficiency tests, he could even still earn credit for Casper High’s records without having to transfer them back and forth.

Within a few days, Alice, and now Danny, climbed back into the truck, ready to head back down to Arkansas.

“Bye!” Danny called, waving out of the window.

A chorus of bye’s and love you’s sent Danny off as they drove away.

Extra:

“Come on,” Danny laughed as he looked at his friends struggling up the side of the silo.

Tucker’s hand slid off a rung and he yelped.

Looking up at Danny, Sam asked, “are you sure this is safe Danny?”

Laughing again, Danny started climbing again, “Sure is.  Besides, I can always catch you guys before you hit the ground.”

“Wow, that’s sooo reassuring,” Sam grumbled.

Reaching the top of the dome, Danny disappeared from both their sights.  They heard some clangs before his head popped back over the edge, “come on!  Hurry!”  He grinned at Tucker’s frown as Sam reached him first.  Danny disappeared again as he gave Sam room to clamor up.  Soon enough, both their heads popped back over the side.  Twin grins met Tucker as he finished climbing up.  Hands thrust towards Tucker, he grabbed them and let himself be pulled up the rest of the way.

“Okay, we’re here.  What are we supposed to be doing?”  Tucker asked as they crawled their way to the middle of the silo.

Danny sat down, and pointing up said, “Look.”

“Oooh,” Sam breathed.

“Wow,” Tucker added.

The sky stretched up above them, shades of blue creating a fabric where streams of stars traveled across the expanse.  Blushes of red and green broke up the inky darkness and stars twinkled back and forth.  A light breeze caressed the trio and they laid back, enjoying the view.

[trypoed]

I'm just thinking.

Hoffman’s path as Jigsaw's apprentice began with revenge, with the desire to inflict suffering on the one who had caused him pain. And his path ended with revenge as well. His final act of vengeance was not only against Jill personally, but also against John. It was as if he was trying to make John suffer by taking the life of someone John cared about.

It doesn’t matter that John was already dead. It doesn’t matter that killing Seth Baxter wouldn’t have brought Angie back.

Revenge is blind.

"Fix me, motherfucker," Amanda cried to John. Nothing changed for her.

"Fix me, motherfucker" - this is precisely what Hoffman could have snarled in fury and despair, feeling betrayed, if John were still alive. Hoffman was hurt all over again, and the only way he knew how to cope with his pain was by inflicting it on others in revenge. For him, too, nothing had changed.

Both Amanda and Hoffman were ultimately defeated because John didn’t fix people. He broke them further. And they were both undone not by John’s hand, but by the consequences of his designs.

And I am curious about how John would have reacted to what happened to Jill. Would he have been as lenient with Hoffman as he was with Seth Baxter? “Everyone deserves a chance,” he shouted directly into Hoffman’s face, speaking about the man who had so unfairly and cruelly taken the only person he held dear from him. “You didn’t see the blood! You didn’t see what he fucking did to her!” and John showed no trace of understanding or sympathy in response. But what would he have said if he had seen Jill’s blood? If he had witnessed what Hoffman had done to her? Would he have given Hoffman the proverbial chance? I’m not sure.

[ajcrawly]

NOW COMPLETE!

Because I am of unsound mind, I've skimmed through HtN through the satirical and wildly unreliable eyes of our friend Augustine. Please find within:

Fifth House snobbery re the Third House and its efforts

Intense, codependent and psychologically unhealthy relationships with not one! not two! but (at least) three denizens of the Mithraeum

Just astonishing amounts of ennui

A simply unnecessary number of footnotes that add to neither plot nor characterisation but do vastly add to my enjoyment

In summation: pls <3

[onomatopoetic101999]

Strangers Like Me

Adam Warlock x reader

WC: 3,225

Warnings: lotttssss of kissing. Tons.

Inspired by "Strangers Like Me" by Phil Collins

________________

__________

Adam Warlock loved to learn.

 It was something he counted as a great blessing, finding out so many things he would never have known if he had stayed with the Sovereign. He had felt, even when only a few days old, that there was something better out there, and the Guardians had helped him find it. In the six months since his premature birth, Adam had learned so much, both about himself and the galaxies he now called home. 

He found out a new dislike or preference he had everyday, but one thing that he had learned early on was that he liked having you around. You were incredibly kind. You went out of your way to ensure he understood what happened around him, you never answered his questions with anything other than patience, and more than once you had fiercely defended him against those who attempted to take advantage of his ignorance. 

The things he experienced were just… better when you were the one helping him with them. Every time he learned something new, his first thought would be what your opinion on it was. He wanted you to show him everything you knew, wanted to do everything you did and learn why you did it. He rejoiced in every chance he got to find out something new about you and felt a need to always be somewhere in your vicinity.

You had stood out to him from the first moment he saw you. You had felt different than every other friend he had made so far, and he hadn't met anyone like you since. You had this serenity about you that drew him in, and your effortless beauty reminded him of the stars. He had quickly decided after meeting you that your name, while pretty, didn't encompass how amazing you were. 

He had called you "Starlight" once in passing, and had stuck with it ever since.

This desire, this longing, was so new to him. He didn't understand; why did he have this need to be around you constantly? You made him feel things he had never felt before. His need to be close to you reached new heights every day, and the day the Guardians visited Terra for the first time was no different.

 While it was nice to see Peter Quill again, learning about where you came from was the only thing Adam could focus on. To see what you first called home was magnificent. Adam wanted to know anything and everything you were willing to tell him about where you grew up, and as you gave him a tour of your childhood home, he was struck by two things. 

The first was how beautiful everything on Terra seemed to be. It only made sense, he supposed, that someone as beautiful as you would come from somewhere as beautiful as this. The second, and slightly more puzzling thing was how at home he felt, despite being on a planet he had never visited before. This he solved by simply remembering who he was with. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling he would feel at home anywhere as long as you were there.

After you showed him everything you could think of, Adam decided it was his turn to show you his "world" - what he considered his first home.

It wasn't hard to convince you to allow him to take you somewhere you had never been, and Adam's heart swelled at your trust in him. When you had fully prepared yourself to go somewhere without oxygen, you turned to look at him expectantly. He had originally planned to drive one of their smaller ships to where he wanted to take you, but that urge to be close to you rose up again. 

He scooped you up into his arms instead, and shot up towards the atmosphere, holding you close with one arm under your legs and the other around your back. At first he was worried you would be mad at him, but you responded exactly the way he wanted you to: by wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and hiding your face against his shoulder.

Adam hadn't even known it was possible for him to shiver, but when he felt your body shake against his as you let out a surprised and exhilarated laugh, he relished in the tremors it causes.

He didn't know what you were expecting as he flew you both towards the first place he had felt peace. It wasn't Sovereign, but he had a feeling that wouldn't surprise you. He waited with baited breath to see your reaction after whispering to you that you had reached your destination.

If you were surprised, you didn't show it. All Adam saw as he watched you take in the mesmerizing stars, planets, and moons he had brought you to see was pure, unadulterated awe. It seemed as if it was all you could do just to whisper, "it's beautiful." Adam murmured his agreement, though his eyes never once left your face.

He wondered if you felt the things he was feeling, what he always felt when he was around you. He wasn't sure how to ask; he didn't even know if he should. For a reason he couldn't explain, the thought of confessing his feelings to you made him nervous.

Still, being honest with you had never hurt him before. He had to at least try. When he landed back onto Knowhere soil, he turned to you, having built his courage on the journey back. 

While he had sucked in a breath to start, to attempt to find some way to express himself to you, the air left his lungs the second you turned to look at him. He had chosen to carry you before because it brought you closer to him, but the sheer lack of distance between your faces hadn't hit him until your still awe-filled eyes had come to rest on his golden ones.

 Suddenly, talking was a complete impossibility. Adam was positive you had never looked so radiant, hair tousled from your recently removed helmet and breathing still heavy from the adrenaline of flight. Adam was also positive that if he opened his mouth to speak, something horribly embarrassing would come out.

Luckily, knowingly or not, you saved him from the mortification of speech. You leaned forward to rest your forehead against his, and when Adam noticed the small smirk your mouth made when he gasped at the contact, he found himself unable to look away. 

As quickly as you had stolen his ability to breathe, the sight of your lips completely consumed Adam's thoughts. He tilted his head ever so slightly, and when you leaned back to look up at him, he started to lean forward. He couldn't explain why, but as his gaze roamed your face, briefly meeting your eyes before returning to your mouth, all he could suddenly think about was wanting to…. Wanting to….

You caught on immediately, and raised a gentle hand to rest against his lips, stopping him. At his frustrated huff and furrowed eyebrows, your enticing mouth lifted again at the corners as you ducked down to meet his eyes.

"Adam, are you sure? Do you even know what you're trying to-"

"Starlight, please," his words are muffled against your fingertips, and he watched as the feel of his mouth moving against them visibly flustered you. "I can't explain why but I want… I need to know." He didn't know how to articulate what exactly he needed, but he didn't have to.

When you hesitantly lowered your hand and nodded, Adam wasted no more time, surging forward to press his lips against yours. It was a clumsy kiss at first, but as you slid your hands into his hair to guide him, a single thought, word, feeling seeped deep into his bones. Right. This felt right. More right than anything he had felt in his life.

The longing he had experienced since he met you seemed to finally release him with a sigh of relief, giving way to complete contentment. He smiled against your lips and pulled you closer, delighted by the gasp you gave him in response.

He didn't know how long you let him hold you, pressing kiss after kiss against your lips, trying to figure out exactly what he had to do to hear that little gasp again. It didn't matter. It hadn't been long enough to satisfy him. 

He had wanted to pout when you finally pulled away, but the sight of your dazed eyes and parted, panting lips made up for the loss of what had immediately become the best thing he had ever experienced in his life. He mirrored your earlier action, resting his head against yours and closing his eyes.

"Thank you," his breaths were coming out in short puffs, but he found he didn't mind being out of breath if it was because of this. Because of you. He felt your forehead move against his as you shook your head, letting out a breathless chuckle in response to his gratitude.

"You are… unfairly good at that. You've never done that before?"

Adam shook his head no and smiled cheekily at how airy your voice was.

"Does that mean you'll let me do it some more?" He beamed when you nodded again and pulled you in for more kisses just as fast as the first time. 

When you broke away for a second time, Adam decided he still needed more, wondering what other sounds you would give him if he kept going. He tilted his head to kiss down your jaw and along your throat, and he rejoiced when he was rewarded with more gasps and sighs. You tugged involuntarily at his golden hair when he mouthed at one of your collar bones, and he hummed against your skin in response.

He had memorized the way to his apartment in Knowhere long ago and thanked his previous self for bringing you back so close to it. He carried you through his front door, shutting it behind him with a light kick before settling on his couch. When he realized he couldn't kiss everywhere he wanted to, he decided you needed to be closer and, lifting you up easily, shifted you to straddle his thighs. 

Your breathing had been getting steadily shallower, and at the feeling of his hands grasping at your hips to pull you closer, you couldn't handle any more. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him up to look at you, fighting hard to catch your breath. 

"You can't…. You gotta give a girl a break sometimes. I'm gonna pass out at the rate you're going." Adam just shook his head and leaned in again, unable to resist pressing another kiss to your lips before speaking. His hands slid up from their place on your hips to wrap around to the small of your back as he muttered an apology against your mouth.

"I'm sorry, Starlight, I can't help it," he nudged your chin up with his nose so he could kiss along the soft skin underneath your jaw. "Why haven't we done this before? Why aren't people kissing all the time?"

You breathed out a quiet laugh before explaining.

"Well, it's kind of intimate, you know?" You paused to gasp as he ran his nose down your pulse to mouth at the place where your neck met your shoulder. He smiled when you shivered in response to his encouraging hum to continue.

"It's usually only for between folks with romantic feelings or-" 

Adam stopped abruptly to raise his head and look at you, and he could tell it was taking a lot of your effort to not pull him back to you. If he hadn't been so curious, he would have been left dumbstruck again by your swollen lips and lidded, kiss drunk eyes, but he pressed forward, too interested in the words you had used. 

"'romantic'... I don't recognize that word…"

You shook your head to get out of your daze, trying to get your brain to function enough to explain the concept to Adam.

He didn't know why, but he felt strangely proud that he was the one that had so thoroughly distracted you. Your beautiful mind was muddled because of him. His kisses on your neck as you sat on his lap and his hands touched you- what was happening to him?

He ignored his increasingly possessive thoughts, trying to pay attention as you attempted to find the right words to use.

"It means you want to spend all your time with someone, I guess, but more than just in the way a friend would. You think about them all the time, you find them nice to look at, you want to protect them from things," you paused to check with him, "is this making sense?" 

Adam was nodding before you had finished the question. That was the feeling that had been plaguing him! He tilted his head to the side and watched you for a moment. He knew you were probably expecting more kisses, and while he already felt as iff he was going through withdrawal, he had a question he needed answering first. 

"How do you tell someone about those feelings?" At that you shrugged, fighting to keep your focus while Adam gently ran his hands up and down your back. 

"It depends. If the feelings are small then you should say something like,'I like you'," Adam immediately knew that didn't fit, "if it's all encompassing and groundbreaking, then you would say, 'I love you.'" Ah. That sounded right.

Adam mulled over his next move as he leaned in to plant light kisses on your cheeks and nose in thanks. His heart swelled at your giggle, and he made a decision. Love. Yes.

He leaned back again and did exactly as instructed.

"I love you."

His confession causes you to blink before giving him a sad smile, one Adam immediately wants to replace with something real. 

"No, Adam, just because you like kissing me doesn't mean you-"

"I love you!" He interrupted you to say it again, this time more insistent. At your unconvinced face, his continues, listing every way his feelings for you fit your criteria.

"I have felt a… a pull towards you since I first saw you, and it gets stronger every day," you opened your mouth to argue, but Adam wouldn't have it.

"I want to be close to you all of the time, I can never stop thinking about you, you're the most beautiful thing I have ever had the gift of looking at and I would rather die than see you hurt," he cupped your face in his hands and met your eyes steadily. His tone made no room for argument.

"I love you."

"Adam…" While you still looked skeptical, he could tell his words getting through to you. He tried to go for another tactic. 

"Do you know why I didn't fly us to Sovereign when I told you I was going to show you my world?" When you shake your head no, he continues, "it's because being in space, surrounded by the beauty and tranquility, was the only place I felt at home… until I met you. Now, when I think of home," his golden eyes glow with admiration, begging you to believe what he's telling you, "when I think of home, Starlight, all I see is you. I love you." 

He could tell you were almost convinced, and you tilted your head to the side, eyes roaming his face. Adam figured you were probably trying to gauge if he fully understood the gravity of what he was confessing; you were always careful to only let him commit to something important if he was able to articulate its significance.

His little Starlight wouldn't let him rush into something he didn't understand. The last thing you wanted was to take advantage of him. He loved that about you. He watched you watch him for a while, trying to figure out what to do to prove his understanding, more than willing to indulge your protectiveness.

When he finally landed on a solution, he stood quickly with you still in his arms. Now that he had gotten a taste of you this close to him, he didn't know if he'd ever let you walk again. 

Your surprised squeak was adorable, but it was the heady feeling of your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands gripping your thighs that he made a mental note to revisit later. What kind of sounds would you make if he pressed you up again his door? What about the wall...?

Adam shook his head to refocus himself. You would let him do all of that, he was sure of it, if he was only able to convince you that he loved you.

He walked with purpose through his apartment, past his small kitchen, straight into his bedroom. When he sat on the edge of the bed, he made sure you were comfortably seated on him before reaching past you to grab something he had been keeping on his bedside table for months.

He handed it over to you and watched you as you analyzed it, turning it around in your hands. It was a picture frame, and in it was a photo of you, smiling at whoever was behind the camera. You looked as if you were mid laugh, and the kaleidoscope of stars behind you gave you an almost ethereal glow.

Adam tapped a single golden finger against the frame, keeping his eyes on your face. "I have been keeping this by my bed ever since Drax told us about Ovette," you eyes snapped up to his at that, and he continued, "he had said he wished he had kept some kind of photo of her so he could see her face before he fell asleep and after he woke up. He said he wished he had looked at her, really looked at her, for longer, so that her face wouldn't be forgotten as easily." 

He took the photo back gently and returned it to its rightful place on his nightstand before he turned to look back at you.

"When he was talking about how much he missed her, all I could think about was how devastated I would be if I never saw you again. If I forgot what you looked like. I didn't know what to call it, but even back then, I knew if there was someone who I would spend the rest of my life with, it was you." 

Adam reached out and grabbed your hands, placing a kiss against each palm before resting with them in your lap. At first he was alarmed when he saw tears in your eyes, but then he noticed you were smiling, and continued, feeling his own eyes starting to well up too.

"I didn't say it just because I like kissing you, although I can already tell I could do that forever and love every second," you laughed and a tear escaped. Adam brushed it away with a brush of his thumb. "I'm saying it because from the moment I met you, I have longed to know you, where you came from, everything I could, just so I could talk to you better.

I'm saying it because you have become the one place I feel I truly belong." He ran his hands up your arms and shoulders to sink into your hair, bringing you close enough to nuzzle his nose against yours.

"I'm saying it because I have felt it, for months, and now I finally, finally have the words I need to express it. Starlight, with my entire body and soul, I. Love. You."

Adam loved to learn, and today he learned that his favorite sound in the whole universe was hearing his darling Starlight say, "I love you too."

[skellagirl]

Hello everyone from the Potion Permit twitter!!!! Here's some more silly doodles of my beloved pathetic loser man 🥰

Also read my super self-indulgent Matheo/Chemist enemies-to-lovers fic??? 🥺

(descriptions in alt text)

[starstruckodysseys]

bustin’ makes me feel good! —

complete, 20.8k words

dave’s video world isn’t truly going out of business — not because people are miraculously getting back into physical media, or because they mysteriously uncovered tons of funding, or anything like that.

it’s just that it’s really a front for a ghost hunting business. that’s all.

read here on ao3

[leviathanlazarus]

Back From the Dead

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~6700

Warnings: lots of angst & tears (Sam really is my token boy for that lmao sorry to my Sam girls <3); some sexual content (PIV--18+)

Another post-concert Sam fic. Hope you enjoy <3

---

Countless photos and videos of the boy who broke your heart, the boy who you loved so much it made you sick, continued to assault you day after day, month after month. You couldn’t help but become transfixed despite how it made your chest ache so deeply–Sam in shimmering cream, backlit by pillars of orange flame. Sam in glittering crimson, dripping jewels. Each photo and video captured that natural charm, that honed magnetism, all of that slick seduction that had won you over so long ago, and you were left feeling whiplashed with each scroll.

When the end came, your friends all told you that you were better off without him. They tried to raise you back up, tried to paint you as the victor despite you feeling like you’d lost the most precious thing in your life. You’d tried to rally along with their support but you never really felt it, not for one second. And as the months dragged on, your quiet heartache and gray despondency became old. Your friends didn’t want to hear about it anymore, not for one more second. You couldn’t blame them. You were sick of your own thoughts that tormented you–no matter what you did with your days, Sam was at the forefront of your mind, always. 

Not even sleep was much of an escape. You dreamed about him frequently, in situations that were nonsensical sometimes, but sometimes in situations where he’d come back to you. Sometimes the dreams erased the breakup entirely and there you two were, together like nothing had ever happened. Then you’d wake up covered in sweat and chilled with grief, your heart once again like a dead-weight in your rib cage.

Summer was here, but instead of feeling excited for beach days, boat rides, barbeques and all the weekend trips that had been tacked onto your calendar, you just felt the same old familiar grief and desperation. You were so exhausted from the pain that came from that horrible breakup that had come out of nowhere, a pain that should have left you long ago. 

Of course, despite the clear blue skies and beaming sunshine as you drove to meet your friends–yet another gathering that wouldn’t distract you–your thoughts found Sam and that final day with him. You never thought you’d beg any man for anything but when he’d dropped the bomb, you’d begged him not to, to take it all back, to just stay, to work it out. Because you loved him too much and truly couldn’t imagine your life without him. And you’d said all of that–you’d laid your heart out on the line, vomited your love, adoration and commitment up, but it hadn’t mattered. Sam said it was over, so it was. 

What made it so much worse was that you couldn’t even talk to him. You’d given up quickly–he’d made it clear that friendship was not part of the breakup package. For a little while, you’d held onto hope that he would reach out and at least mend that. But he never did, and it was another hard thing to accept. But what was harder was how everyone else in the world got to see him and experience him every night and it didn’t take long before you found yourself scrolling through apps just to see his digital beauty in the palm of your hands since you couldn’t have the real thing anymore.

The evening at the beach with your friends moved slowly. You tried, as always, to smile, to laugh, to match everyone else’s energy. But the cold drink in your hand only reminded you of how much you missed Sam’s warm hand holding yours; the blazing sunset, brilliant and beautiful reflected in the lake, only made you think of the flames that reflected in Sam’s dark eyes each night. The sand beneath your bare legs and feet only made you want the sensation of his silky skin against your own, and when you brought a cigarette to your lips, you knew you could still feel the long-lost ghost of one of his kisses. You’d never feel that again, you reminded yourself for the millionth time, and it almost made you cry right there.

But you managed to save your tears for the drive back home. They swelled into big droplets that rolled down your cheeks in the dark and you wiped them away continually, rubbing at your eyes too so the road would stop being a blur. Dejected and lonely, you dragged yourself back inside your home that always felt so empty without Sam’s scattered messes, even without his smell. 

The only one that you still managed to keep in touch with, though infrequently, was Josh. Bless his heart, and bless it even more because when you kicked off your shoes, dropped your back and checked your phone again while standing idle in the hallway, you had a text from him waiting for you.

Hey baby doll, what’s shaking? Sorry it’s been so long since we’ve talked. I was thinking about you tonight!

For the first time all night, a real smile curved along your lips. You started to type as you meandered over to the couch, sinking down just as you hit send.

Josh! I miss you <3 Did you guys have a show tonight?

Ironically, it was only when you got to talk to Josh that you ever felt relief. He was not only your one remaining link to Sam, but he was also just so pure of heart and kind–such a gem that you couldn’t not feel comforted whenever you two reconnected. Josh was your last thread to a whole world that you missed dearly and he was a true friend even if you wished you could talk to him more. 

Not even a full minute passed before your phone began to ring with Josh’s name and contact photo illuminating the screen. You took the call quickly and eagerly, settling back into the couch, your whole body feeling so much more alive than it had in ages.

“You know I’m not big on texting,” was the first thing he said when you picked up, a smile evident in his tone. 

“I’d much rather hear your voice,” you told him, smiling too. “I was thinking about you tonight too. Well–all of you.” You sighed, though Josh being on the other line kept the smile on your face. “As always.”

Josh said he missed you too. He launched into a whole recap of how much he and the boys had been writing and jamming, working on new songs, in addition to the touring that you were well aware of thanks to your incessant internet upkeep. You could visualize so much of it–you had garnered a fairly intimate knowledge of the boys’ creative process through dating Sam, plus you had seen them play numerous shows in the flesh. One thing you’d always loved about Sam was how he always found what you did and what you loved just as fascinating as you found his life.

Your life felt even less fascinating since Sam left it, but as you told Josh all of your most recent updates, he followed along with so much intrigue that you began to feel as though maybe things weren’t as boring as you once thought. Despite the constant heartbreak, you’d been pushing forward, carrying on doing things you love in addition to the regular grind. Even though you’d felt so broken, Josh affirming everything you’d done and were going to do made you feel whole again, if only temporarily. 

But then, just when you thought you were in the clear of even bringing him up, you blurted, “I still miss him so much, Josh.”

Josh let out a soft sigh on the other end. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ve never been able to understand why he didn’t think it’d work. To me–to the rest of us–it always looked like it was working.”

“I thought so too,” you said, lying back flat along the length of your couch. You were vividly remembering some of Sam’s final words to you: “I’m not unhappy. I know you’re not unhappy. But eventually, we will be.” It had made you more angry than hurt the moment he’d said it–what a cop out. It had been way, way too late in the relationship for him to suddenly become noncommittal or to pull out a random excuse of fear. A preemptive breakup with no reasonable cause in sight, as far as you could tell. Fame wasn’t enough of a reason for you. It never was, it never would be. Eventually, you began to realize that Sam maybe–probably, if you were being honest with yourself–just never loved you all that much.

But as you conversed with Josh, his next statement gave you a light of hope that you wanted to dash away before you ran with it in futility: “Honestly, Y/N…I think Sam misses you too.”

You shot up into a sitting position, feet flat on the floor. “Why do you say that?”

There was such a long pause that you thought Josh had hung up. Then, slowly and softly, he said, “Well, for one, he hasn’t really been with anyone else since. Not that I know of anyway, and it’s not like there’s an abundance of privacy while we’re touring, anyway.”

“Okay…” you said, also slowly, the wheels of your brain already turning.

“He’s been bringing you up lately. Just like, in normal conversation…it’s like he openly reminisces about you. He didn’t do that before.”

You frowned. “Oh.”

“I also saw him looking at pictures of you, and of you and him together, recently. I don’t think he deleted any of them.” 

Your frown twisted into a confused purse of your lips, your brow tightening along with it–the statement, though encouraging, was so stark that it made you flinch. 

“I don’t–” You began, then shook your head. “Why won’t he just talk to me?”

“I wish I had an answer for you, love. But I do know, as you do too, that Sam is incredibly, ridiculously stubborn.” Josh clicked his tongue. “I think that his feelings for you are not totally gone. Personally, I never thought they were.”

-

Instagram alerted you to yet another end of the band’s tour. Well, a break–they’d all be off again soon and you were once again left to eventually play catch up with Josh, whenever that would be. You sighed as you paused on a photo of Sam. You gave yourself permission to look for another second, then just one more, before you locked your phone. It was time to move on, not only with your day but with everything. Sam wasn’t coming back to you. 

But then, when Sunday came around and when you were simply trying to focus on some back-to-basics self-care, Josh called.

“Hey, listen, mama,” he began, sounding a little on edge, which instantly put you on edge in turn. “I was sworn to secrecy but I just can’t keep it in. You deserve a heads up so you can figure out what exactly you want to do.”

“Josh,” you said, pausing your words as you began to peel away the Korean face mask from your cheeks. “What the heck are you talking about?”

“Sam’s coming to see you. Today. He flew in last night.”

A terrible, overwhelming wave of emotions swept over you. You didn’t know what to do with your hands–the used up face mask was stuck to one of them, your fingers clinging to it, with the bathroom trash can feeling so far away. The entire room surrounding you suddenly felt too small though, like the walls were closing in on you, and your heart began to beat frantically as the blood rushed into your ears.

When actual words entered your personal stratosphere again, you were tempted to ask if it was a joke. But Josh wouldn’t joke about this. Never. So you asked, “He was serious? How do you know?”

“Because he told me. He told all of us. He got on a plane, Y/N. He wants it to be a surprise and I just–” Josh let out an exhausted-sounding sigh. “I just don’t know what’s going through his head. I mean, do you want this?”

For the first time, you weren’t sure. 

But it didn’t matter–Sam showed up, just like Josh said he was planning to, just a few hours later. 

Nauseating panic made it hard to move right after the doorbell rang. You remained standing, totally frozen, right outside the door until it rang again and then, without having a coherent thought to drive your actions, you opened it.

No picture or video could ever compare to the real thing–you already knew that, but finally seeing Sam again in the flesh after so long was so uncanny and surreal that you wobbled back on your heels, so physically and mentally unstable. Josh may have warned you about Sam’s incoming presence, but there was nothing that could have warned you of the feelings his presence evoked–anxiety and confusion were at the forefront, so much anxiety that your vision blurred for a moment as you met Sam’s gaze, but also softer things. Adoration was there–that same adoration you’d felt throughout all of your time with Sam. Once upon a time, you’d looked at him like he was the sun, stars and moon combined. You just adored him that much.

“Hey,” Sam said, the first one to speak after what seemed like an eon of silence to you. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, long legs flexing slightly but visibly in just a pair of shorts. He inhaled deeply and his chest and shoulders rose and fell beneath the cream button-down shirt that you didn’t recognize. It looked like it could have been a thrift find, but you bet it wasn’t. 

“Hi,” you finally said, your own voice sounding strange to your ears. You left it at that, though there were so many other things another person might say–what are you doing here? Being the most reasonable one, and a question you were wholly justified in asking. But you didn’t.

“It’s been a long time,” Sam replied, and instead of the impossibly self-assured rock god you saw online every day, he looked sheepish. Trepidation wafted from his energy like a perfume, like he himself wasn’t even sure what he was doing on your doorstep.

You took a deep breath through your nose, trying to center yourself, and got a whiff of what Sam actually smelled like–amber and patchouli. A little bit of smoke. “Yeah,” you agreed. “It really has.”

Despite all the emotions that were gearing up, it took absolutely no convincing for you to let Sam inside. It was like muscle memory to open the door for him and to step aside, to follow behind and watch the subtle movements of his traps, shoulders and thighs as he made his way into your home. But now, he moved more slowly and his head turned from side to side, looking around as if to see what had changed. Not much had, you realized, apart from his own missing pieces. 

You needed a drink; Sam probably did too. So you both sat there on the couch, the ceiling fan above circling, sending drift after drift of his scent to you, and slowly sipped from beers you only ever started buying because of him. Awkward, tormenting silence ensued for far too long before you finally asked the necessary question of, “Why are you here?”

Sam looked at you, then looked down at the can in his hand. He brought it to his lips, tilted his head back and chugged the rest. After he wiped his mouth with the hem of his sleeve, he answered with, “I miss you, Y/N. I made a mistake.”

Your jaw dropped–then, quickly you realized you didn’t want to be so vulnerable again. Sam didn’t deserve to see you surprised. He didn’t deserve to see any emotion at all. You looked away, to the blank space of the wall above your TV–once upon a time, there were pictures of the two of you, and of you and all the boys, hung up there. 

“Oh,” you said, taking another drink. The beer tasted extra bitter on your tongue, and you felt your own bitterness, all the hard feelings that had been locked away inside your heart for so long, begin to seep out. “You seemed so sure of your decision before. I don’t see why anything would have changed.”

“At the time, I didn’t think we’d make it. We barely made it through that first tour together. Don’t you remember?” Sam asked, stuck in your peripheral vision.

You thought back to that time a couple years ago. Sure, it’d been hard–you couldn’t be with Sam as much as you’d wanted, but you were never the clingy girlfriend. You never made him feel guilty about any of it. Yet you’d come to learn that he felt guilty anyway, which led to resentment, all of which could have been avoided if Sam just learned to communicate better. But you never made him feel guilty for that either.

“You barely made it through,” you corrected, turning to face him again. His beauty struck you again like a slap in the face, making you falter silently–just a few weeks ago, you would have done anything to kiss those soft, plush lips. Has anything really changed for you?

“I know,” Sam said, one of the few times he’d ever admitted any kind of fault. “It was stupid. I should have trusted what we had.”

You looked away again, blinking as you felt a surge of rage and deep pain in your chest that was threatening to make you cry. How many times could you cry over one person? You were so drained. Then you felt Sam’s hand on your knee but refused to look down at the touch, though the sensation sent a shiver up your spine and a whirlpool of desire in your belly. 

“I’m so sorry,” Sam said, his voice soft, but too sad. You didn’t think he deserved to feel sad. 

You shoved his hand away and shrank back against the arm of the couch, knees drawn up to your chest. “What did you think would happen here?” you demanded, the threat of tears in your eyes traded for blazing anger that you hoped was cutting through Sam’s soul. “You don’t talk to me for all this time–you didn’t even want to be friends, Sam!” Your voice was rising like the tidal wave all your heartache felt like. “You toss me aside like trash then just decide to come back when, what? When you’re desperate? Because you finally feel real guilt, not just your bullshit self-pity?”

Sam’s mouth gaped in shock, just staring at you. You stared back until he stood up, shaking his head. “You’re right,” he said. “This was wrong. Another mistake.” 

But as he began to head out, steps trailing a line right for the front door, you knew you couldn’t bear to see him walk out again. 

You shot up to your feet and grabbed his arm–you pulled him back with more force than intended, making him stumble back against you with a surprised grunt. He actually looked scared when you physically turned him around but the anger you felt was drifting away–now you just felt charmed. Despite the changes there, you saw the same boy you fell in love with years ago.

“You ruined everything, you stupid idiot,” you said quietly, no heat in your words. Surprisingly, Sam smiled. He brought his hands to your shoulders and gently rubbed them as if he could massage all the turmoil of the past straight out of you.

It was also like muscle memory to have Sam beneath you as your legs splayed over his hips, knees pressed into your mattress. His hair was fanned out against your pillow as you swept your fingers through the long strands while your other hand kept a determined hold on his face, your thumb aligned with his jaw to keep him in place. 

His hands roamed down your sides, his touch fluid and familiar, his kisses the same, and all the daydreams and real dreams of doing this again flooded your mind, making you question if what was happening was even real. You pulled back to look at him, to assure yourself that he was here, that it was real, and those dark doe eyes looked back into your own, his lashes fluttering as a little smile graced his rosy lips. 

“Did you really miss me?” you asked as you released his jaw and touched your fingers to his mouth, tracing down his chin, his neck.

He nodded, hands squeezing your hips. “Every day.” Then he answered the next question you had: “I felt too embarrassed to go back…to try to undo it.”

You shook your head with a sigh, stroking his hair. “For being so smart, you really are so stupid, Sam.”

“I know.”

You sat back, removing your hands from him entirely. “So…what does this mean? Are you just gonna ditch me when the tour starts up again?”

“That wasn’t my plan. But I don’t expect you to forgive me or get back with me either.” He sat up as much as he could, propping his upper body up on his elbows. “We can stop right now if you want.”

Maybe you’d jumped back into things too soon. Especially without a real declaration and a real commitment to, well, commitment, it seemed way too likely you’d just end up heartbroken again. 

“What do you want?” you asked, still keeping your hands to yourself. 

Sam sat up more and wrapped his arms around your middle. He rested his head against your chest and sighed, but didn’t answer–not with words, anyway. You knew what that hug, what that hold on you, meant. You could remember like it was yesterday the first time Sam hugged you like that.

“I was such a fucking idiot,” Sam said, breaking the silence. He pressed his face into your sternum and groaned. “I am such a fucking idiot. I wanted you to come back to me so bad. Why would I have ever expected you to do that?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, finally wrapping your arms around his shoulders in return. “Why would you expect that?”

One of the many troubles you were now experiencing was how you knew sleeping with Sam right away wouldn’t be fair to yourself. It’d be like rewarding bad behavior, you thought. But you wanted to–that was never an issue. There had never been a moment with him where you hadn’t wanted to do but, more than that, there had also never been a moment where you’d felt even mildly uncomfortable with him. From the beginning, despite his chaotic, fiery and slightly unpredictable nature, you flowed into him easily, like a steady river.

With a sigh, you moved off him and sat up against the headboard. Sam followed, sitting next to you without touching. “You still haven’t told me what you want,” you reminded him as you glanced at your dresser across the room. Inside the top drawer, the photos of you and him and you and the boys that once hung above the TV and all over your fridge were trapped, hidden beneath socks and underwear. 

It was against his nature to not be touching you–you knew it was probably taking a considerable amount of willpower to curb that–so when Sam leaned against your shoulder, you stayed put. 

“I wanna be together again,” he told you, and the words sounded sincere. “I should have never ended things. I never should have stopped talking to you. It was the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

You were inclined to agree, but you kept that thought to yourself. 

“You came back…and came back to me,” you began while Sam leaned more of his weight on you. “But it doesn’t really feel like it.” At that, you felt him shift away, almost not touching again. But not quite–his knee was still just barely pressed into your thigh. 

“Why not?”

You hadn’t completely realized it until you said it, but it felt so painfully true as the words came out of you: “I feel like I don’t really know you anymore, Sam. The last time we spoke, you were telling me it was over. You were dumping me for–for what? I still don’t get it. Maybe I never will. All it seemed like to me was that you just didn’t love me. Like you never did.” You turned your head, not even wanting to see a glimpse of him. “I’ve had to try and swallow that epiphany all this time. And all this time, not only did I feel like you never loved me, but you never spoke a single word to me to try and correct that.”

Silence returned, heavy and confounding, for a long minute, maybe even two. Then Sam said, “Fuck.” You physically felt more than you actually watched him get off the bed, but you looked right at him when he was standing on the other side of it. “You think you don’t know me anymore, Y/N. You don’t love me anymore.”

That wasn’t true, but you weren’t opposed to him thinking that for a little while. Who the hell was Sam to just waltz up to your door out of the blue, to step right back into your home and your life as if he’d never left after all the shit he’d said to you? After he tore your heart right out of your chest, threw it to the ground and stepped on it? He could sit with some heartache himself, you thought, for a little while. You’d had enough for a lifetime.

Still sitting on your bed, you watched him in silence–instead of actually leaving, he stepped over to your desk chair and ran his hands down the cardigan that was lying over the back of it. Like he was waiting for something, because he also knew what he said wasn’t true. 

Your hand found the warmth his body had left behind on the sheets and you definitively, without a shadow of a doubt, knew that you really couldn’t ever let him go again. 

“Don’t go,” you said, standing up and moving to meet him at the chair, standing behind him. You laid one hand over his. “I do love you, Sammy. I never stopped.” Before he could reply, you went on, resting your cheek on his shoulder: “Even though you’re selfish and stupid and infuriating. Even though you don’t deserve it. I can’t help it.” You closed your eyes and rubbed your nose into the fabric of his shirt before you added, “You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, turning his hand over so he could lace your fingers together. “I know that.”

Despite craving any words from him for so long, you wanted something else now. You wanted Sam’s skin under your hands, his kisses back on your neck–as you both fumbled to get your clothes off, writhing on the bed, you got those wishes. And now that Sam knew he had you, his kisses were a little softer, a little slower as he straddled you; now that you knew you had him, you felt like you could breathe again. Your fingers danced easily over his skin, from the subtle slope of his shoulders down to his warm chest; he let out a soft little huff when your hands squeezed his sides, then used one to press against his belly, your thumb lingering right at the waistband of his briefs.

“We really can wait, Y/N,” Sam reminded you when you slipped your hand beneath the cotton. “If you think that’d be better.”

“I don’t wanna wait. I’m sick of waiting.” You arched your back, trying to get more of Sam’s weight on top of you. A confession, one that you’d been shamefully keeping all to yourself, rolled out next: “I haven’t been with anyone since you left.”

“No way,” Sam said, sounding both smug and in disbelief. He smiled a little while his own fingers roamed, making their way down between your legs. “Does everything still work correctly?”

His ticklish touch along your inner thigh made you giggle and tremble a bit. “As far as I know.” You looked down, watching his fingers slide down the center of your panties. When Sam didn’t confess on his own, you felt inclined to pry–against your better judgment: “What about you?”

Sam wrapped his free hand around yours, encouraging you to keep touching him–he was as hot and as hard as ever. “Feel for yourself,” he said, making your hand wrap more firmly around his length.

Your cheeks were blazing hot. “Seriously,” you insisted, keeping your hand still. “What about you?”

He planted his hands on your hips. “Just a few. Probably less than you’d expect, honestly.” He leaned down, bringing his face close to yours, his hair hanging down like a curtain. “I realized fairly quickly that no one made me feel like you did and I didn’t want to keep trying.”

“Oh really?” you replied, sounding more haughty and jealous than you’d intended. But Sam always unraveled you so easily, without even trying–it was no different now. You were honestly surprised you hadn’t burst into tears at some point since he’d shown up. 

“Yes, really, Y/N. What do you want me to do to prove how much I missed you? Want me to sing all your accolades and beg for forgiveness?”

You scoffed. “Yes, actually.”

Sam didn’t even look surprised. He smiled and leaned back, his hair falling back over his tanned shoulders, and shimmied down to sit between your thighs instead of on top of you. “Fine. I can do that.” He cocked his head to the side while his fingers tapped your thighs, looking you over. You were already almost naked but his gaze was lingering and penetrating over every part of your body, making you uncomfortable–what did all those other girls look like? Did he try to find ones that looked like you, or the opposite? Did he miss your personal brand of warmth and softness as much as you’d missed his? 

His hands reached out and quickly you were freed from your bra, it being cast aside to fall to the floor, and your underwear too. Your body tensed up instinctively, feeling far too exposed in front of the boy who’d destroyed your heart so easily, but then Sam stood up just long enough to match your nakedness.

He settled back down between your legs, draping his body over yours so he could meet your lips again. The kiss was deep and slow–no tongue, just his impossibly soft, sweet lips on yours while one of his hands cradled the side of your face and the other swept through your hair.

“Don’t get me wrong–I missed this,” Sam told you, pulling back. He looked down as his hands smoothed down your shoulders to gently squeeze your breasts. “But I really just missed being with you. I missed talking with you–you’re always so good at calling me out on my bullshit.” He laughed a little and your heart began to race harder–Sam was always more natural and skilled with physical action to express his feelings than words. The fact that he was letting his thoughts flow freely from his lips, speaking of love instead of destruction, made you wonder yet again if you were just in a dream. 

“I missed your voice. I missed you singing in the car,” he went on, lowering himself–he began to press kisses to your neck and chest as the rest of the words emptied out of him: “I missed the smell of your perfume on my clothes and your lipstick on my mouth.” You brought your hands to his head, finally feeling like you could move again, and let your fingers glide through his hair. “I missed hearing you laugh, especially when I was the one who made you laugh. All the noise from the crowds every night–” He shook his head with his face pressed against your sternum. “I always wanted to somehow hear your voice in all of that. I kept wondering if you’d surprise me by showing up at one night. But that was very selfish, wishful thinking.” 

He looked up into your eyes. “This is just the first step. But if you keep going with me, I swear that I’ll never let you go again.”

You let that declaration hang in the air for a moment before you asked, “Really, Sam?”

Without hesitation, he replied, “Yes, Y/N. I won’t go anywhere unless you want me to.”

Traitorously, the tears returned. They swelled big and hot in your eyes and you turned your head away, bringing one hand up to try and wipe them away as if Sam might not notice, which was impossible. You felt his whole body stiffen, like he didn’t know what to do–you didn’t either. But then, a second later, his arms were around your shoulders, holding you up against his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head, just letting you cry.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” Sam said softly. 

“I just wish you’d never left in the first place,” you said, the words strangled with the attempt to suffocate your sobs. 

“Me too, baby. Me fucking too.”

All the times you’d cried since he left, you’d just wished Sam was still the one to hold you. Now you had just that–shocking and destabilizing, he was really there, and when the tears wouldn’t stop, you became desperate just for some relief from the ocean of emotion that you needed to break free from.

“Please say something funny,” you pleaded, sniffing, embarrassed that your tears were soaking his hair and his skin now.

Sam laughed. “Okay. Hmm…the last time we played Houston, I got so drunk after the show that I went to the wrong hotel room. I kept trying my key card in the door, wondering why the fuck it wasn’t opening, and eventually after me making such a racket out there, the person staying in the room opened the door.” He pet your hair and your shoulder blades and you found your tears slowing, your chest feeling more open. “And instead of just like, recognizing it wasn’t my room, I started arguing with them because I was so wasted I still really thought it was my room.”

That little story did make you laugh–the crying was traded for giggles, then louder, open-mouthed laughs. “God, Sam. What’s wrong with you?” you asked, hugging him tighter.

“So much. But you already knew that.”

Your laughter was contagious for Sam; all the laughter turned into silly, giggly kisses and then, when your skin was warm from love and not fear and your heart felt whole for the first time in a long time, Sam was all over you once more.

“Jesus, you feel so fucking good,” he panted with his mouth pressed just below your ear. His breath and saliva had made your skin and hair there wet–you didn’t care. You were both sweaty already, with Sam thrusting even and deep inside of you, his hips pounding against yours, and your hands all over him to keep him as close as possible. 

He felt amazing too. Not just the way he was fucking you–or really, as cheesy as it sounded in your head, making love to you–but his entire body. His whole essence. From his hair to his chiseled cheeks, the slightly scratchy beard, his warm chest with the fast-beating heart beneath and all of the silken, golden skin on yours, his beautiful body back in your arms, Sam was amazing. 

One particularly dense thrust against your tight walls made you gasp and dig your nails into his back. Sam groaned and sank his teeth into your neck, growling, “Fuck yeah, baby. Mark me up. I’m all yours.”

The sharpness of his teeth was brief–he resumed soft kisses to your neck then your mouth, capturing your moans and signs with his lips and tongue. You’d been on your back with your eyes closed moaning and sighing about him countless times since he’d left, but could never capture even a fraction of the real thing in those fantasies. When you would come, his name would crescendo from your throat like another sob, and when you’d open your eyes, you found yourself more alone than ever.

This time, when you came, his name didn’t sound like a desperate, aching plea–it sounded light and free even to your own ears, and when Sam kissed you right after the sound echoed through your bedroom, you could feel his smile on your lips. 

You hooked your fingers in his hair and held him against you while the movement of his hips actually slowed instead of sped up. Confused, you opened your eyes and turned your head to break away from his lips, to look at him instead. 

Flush-faced with his eyes bright, Sam smiled again and brought his hand to the crown of your head, his thumb stroking your forehead, his fingers curling into your hair. “That’s good,” he said, voice as soft as the summer breeze whisking through your open windows. “I wanted to look at you too.”

“I can’t believe I really am,” you said a little breathlessly, the last few aftershocks of your orgasm rippling through you. “After all this time.”

Sam smiled and worked up to his previous pace, never taking his eyes off yours; when he let out a huff and bit his lip, you pulled him down to do that yourself–your lips captured his in fierce kisses that you hoped wordlessly translated into “you’re mine forever,” your hands gripped his body like you’d never let go, and you squeezed yourself around his cock to make him whimper, then whimper your name in return as the muscles in his thighs fluttered and he let his whole weight drop on top of you.

Thankfully, he really didn’t weigh all that much. You hugged him, the two of you just breathing together, recovering from the confusion and madness and anguish to, as you now knew, steadily blossom together like the backyard garden you’d tended to in his absence. There was so much to catch up on, you thought while you stroked his hair and he stroked your skin, and so much to look forward to. 

Later, when the sun had almost completely dipped behind the trees and the stars were beginning to sparkle overhead, the two of you sat in the backyard, hands clasped together.

“How long are you going to be back home for?” you asked. That question had never bothered you before the breakup but now, you felt a little edginess as you asked it. You were now sure Sam meant everything that he said, that you two were as solid as ever, but simply knowing he’d be on the road again for however long after he’d finally come back to you made your heart feel heavy. 

“Tour starts up again in a month,” he told you, catching your gaze in the last little lingering bit of the warm sunset. “I was hoping I’d be here until then.” He brought his hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “If you still want that.”

A month. It wasn’t enough, because nothing with Sam was ever enough, but you silently vowed to yourself to make every second of it count more than it ever had before.

“I want infinity with you, Sam,” you told him, unable to help the smile that broke out on your face as he smiled with a lot of glee and just a little of that familiar smugness. “Always have, always will.” 

---

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[oftenlyshitposting]

a wolf, a warrior, and a hotspring | wolfwren fic

"meet me here again tomorrow. at noon."

sabine finds that slumber has been kinder to her. she awoke to the hazy peridean early sun, to the smell of cookings just outside of the fulcrum. the noti people must have been up for sometime now. with the scent of food entering the ship, that means ahsoka is, too.

oh, right. she hasn't told ahsoka.

sabine rises from her bunk with a soft grunt, already fabricating a plan to sneak out of camp. she glances at the clock she and huyang constructed; the time is indicating closer towards midday. sabine leans out of her bunk to search for ahsoka and huyang, not finding either at the common table or the practice floor. the door to the cockpit was also open, showing vacant seats. they're outside then, sabine concluded.

without wasting anymore time, sabine tiptoes to the refresher for a quick wash and to get dressed. her fingers were crossed that ahsoka stays occupied until she could sneak out, but luck betrayed her. by the time sabine got out of the refresher, ahsoka was at the common table, plating some bowls that looked like breakfast and a jug of what sabine assumes as the tea she usually drinks.

"morning," ahsoka calls, her tone sounding suspiciously humoured, "had a good sleep?"

sabine scratches her hair, avoiding eyes with ahsoka. "uh, yeah. slept alright."

"that's good."

sabine nods, quickly making her way to her bunk to pack up her blasters and to put on her beskar. her periphery catches ahsoka's eyes on her, but she tries her best to ignore her master. plan A of quietly sneaking out failed, so sabine decides to just play it coolly and find the right time to sneak out again. she casually walks to grab a cup from the storage, pouring herself the tea.

"what's all this?" sabine nods at the bowls and plates at the table, sipping her tea to calm her nerves.

ahsoka pushes a bowl at sabine's direction, "late breakfast. the noti found native fruits and berries, you should try some," and made a gesture sabine interprets as an instruction for her to sit and eat.

sabine shrugs. "alright." she began scooping the bowl; it consists of some kind of mushy grain-like porridge with various haphazardly chopped fruits. the texture initially puts her off, but the taste wasn't so bad. it reminded her of some kind of pudding. "hey, where's huyang?"

"he's outside. last i saw, he was helping a noti folk fix up their little pod," ahsoka replies easily, munching on a crunchier chopped fruit. sabine hums in response, mouth a little full. ahsoka then looks at sabine inquisitively as she asks, "where'd you run off yesterday? you were gone for a really long time."

"uh, i went out to hunt?" sabine cringes internally, not intending her answer to sound unconvincing, which she follows up with, "no luck, though. no game, or stuff. but, i did find a hotspring."

"did you?"

"yep."

ahsoka's brow quirked, and sabine can't really tell what her master is thinking. "you found someone, though. didn't you?"

well, shoot. sabine doesn't really know how to deny that question, so she decides to dance around the whole truth, "yeah. baylan's blonde padawan. i ran into her at the spring. surprisingly, she didn't try to kill me."

"i can see that," ahsoka chuckled. "did something happen?" when sabine tilts her head questioningly, ahsoka adds, "i felt something shifted, in the force."

double shoot. guess plan B of sneaking out and postponing the conversation failed too. sabine sighs. "i guess so...? i... i don't know. i can feel her, and she can feel me. through the force."

"that's not uncommon. you've finally tapped into the force, making your presence known within it and to anyone who can access the force." ahsoka gestures between them, explaining further, "like how i can sense you, and you can sense me."

ahsoka's explanation makes sense. though, sabine can't help but think that there's more to the connection between her and shin. she knows that ahsoka and her have a bond, as master to padawan. it doesn't quite make sense to her as to why she would share a connection with shin; the kind of bond that they have.

thinking about their bond might have subconsciously triggers it in sabine's mind, as she finds herself reaching for shin within the force. she sees shin, on the other end of their connection, hunting with a group of the red-armoured bandits. sabine can feel shin sensing her presence in their connection.

shin pauses atop her howler, turning her head to the side where sabine is sitting inside the fulcrum. sabine's breath choked in her throat when she hears shin's voice... inside her mind?

'you missed me already?'

sabine wants to scream out loud; shin sounded unbearably cocky, like she was teasing her. and the fact that shin's voice filled her whole mind like an echo in a chamber doesn't help her clear her mind. even in an odd psychic link, shin can be infuriating.

'you wish,' sabine replied in her mind, trying to put up a convincing annoyed act. 'this happened out of my control, okay?'

shin lets out a noise that sounded like a chuckle. 'you are a lousy liar, if you did not know already.' when sabine was about to protest her, shin interrupts, 'as much as i enjoy to watch you try to lie your way out, i am in the middle of hunting. you, are a distraction.'

sabine rolled her eyes, disconnecting herself from the freaky little mind connection thing. she almost choked on her tea when she finds ahsoka looking at her with such a knowing look. sabine finds it oddly infuriating and similar to shin. she hid her face behind her cup, shooting an unamused glare back.

"what?"

ahsoka smiles, and sabine has a bad feeling about it. "you were with her just know, weren't you?"

sabine chokes, "i- what are you–?" she sputters with flushing cheeks. she then manages, "how did you...?"

"well, you went quiet for a while," ahsoka points out the obvious with a smile, sipping her tea, "and i felt the presence of someone else briefly. someone you ran into rather frequently, on top of that."

"that's great," sabine grumbles. "so, the cost of using the force is no privacy for my mind, got it." perhaps she should learn the whole force mind-shield trick, if it's possible to learn it this early.

ahsoka laughs. "relax. i wasn't in your mind, ever." she then makes a move to stand, placing a hand on sabine's shoulder as she says, "i only felt something in the force, and i put two and two together."

sabine pouts, but didn't say anything to that. she opts to finish her bowl of food quickly, knowing ahsoka is going to prepare her for more training. when she finished eating, she quickly cleans the table and brought the dishes to get it cleaned.

ahsoka was preparing the practice floor by the time sabine finishes cleaning up, presumably for meditation training. not exactly sabine's most favourite part of training, but she really doesn't have much to say as a padawan. perhaps ahsoka might teach her how to not let other people look into her brain, that would be neat.

it was a few hours later when ahsoka concurred sabine's training for the day. her master had thrown in a little zatochi session post meditation, testing if her senses are more honed in than the first time sabine did it. to ahsoka's pleasure, sabine did improve when it comes to sensing ahsoka's intents. didn't entirely surprise ahsoka that sabine still falls victim to getting frustrated easily, resulting in ahsoka tripping her again.

"going to meet her again?" ahsoka called out as sabine was packing up a bag, smiling teasingly as she leans against the backrest of the common table.

sabine rolled her eyes. "oh, ha-ha."

"sabine, relax, it doesn't bother me what you do in your spare time." her togrutan master laughs, amused at sabine's defensiveness. ahsoka reaches over to a storage compartment, taking out the large fur coat that she doesn't wear, handing it to sabine. "take this. give it to her."

"what? why?" sabine frowns, looking down at the coat. she recalls that shin has her own cape thing that she wore to the hotspring yesterday.

ahsoka steps closer, her expression a little serious. "it's better used with her than it stays here, gathering dust. and sabine?" when sabine raised her brows expectantly, ahsoka continues, "ask her if she'd like to stay with us."

sabine eyes widened, unexpecting ahsoka's request. "wh– what do you mean 'stay with us'? why?"

"her master's abandoned her. she's alone."

"not as alone as you might think," sabine scoffs, petulant. "she's running with the bandits."

ahsoka shoots her a look, unimpressed. "you know that is not what i meant." she sighs patiently. "you can feel her, more than i do. you know what she feels, her emotions and her thoughts."

"yeah, i guess so..."

"and you of all people, knows best what it's like when your master walks away from you."

and there it is, the final strike home. sabine groans, "y'know, i hate it when you're right about things."

ahsoka laughs, deep and low in her torso. she pats sabine's shoulder and gave it an assuring squeeze. "i'm not always, and you know this. just try, sabine. she just needs someone at the moment."

"you think that someone is me?" sabine raises her brow, uncertain and expectant. ahsoka doesn't answer immediately, and sabine nods somewhat understandingly.

"you saw how she reacted when i offered my help the first time," ahsoka recounts to their last battle, where shin had looked so defeated and fled her and sabine. "i didn't believe she was ready then. but, like most things in life, we sometimes just needs to give it a little bit of time. i think she is more ready now, and with the right person," she nods at sabine, who pursed her lips in a tight-lipped smile, "she may accept our help."

sabine sighed, long and drawn. "alright, fine." the mandalorian grabs the fur coat, stuffing it in her bag. she huffs as she saddles the bag, walking towards the landing ramp. "i'll try to talk to her, but i can't promise anything. and if she kills me, you're responsible for murley!"

ahsoka merely laughs amusedly. "go!"

sabine waves at her master, before disappearing towards her howler and hops onto it's saddled back. her companion animal instantly takes off on it's strong legs, racing towards where it took her yesterday. sabine was tempted to search for shin again in their bond, but restrains herself and hopes that the blonde padawan will be there anyway.

her howler's speed began to decrease as the path to the hotspring becomes familiar to sabine's eyes. she scouts the surrounding, naturally out of instinct, for any bandits or nuisance that she'd have to fight off. the mandalorian sighs in relief when she saw nothing, and more importantly, sensed nothing dangerous in the force.

sabine hops off from her howler, keeping a gentle guiding hand on it's neck as they walk closer towards the spring. she finds a patch of thicker grass and softly commands 'tota' at her howler, unloading her bag and the sack of food for her howler. she scratches it's snout with a smile as it munches on the food sabine brought, whinying joyfully.

"you actually made it here again."

shin's voice filled sabine's surrounding and mind, and sabine wasn't even remotely surprised. she had sensed her arrival a few moments ago. and before she can say anything smart, shin had stolen the moment from her. sabine huffs amusedly.

"aw, were you expecting me to bail?" sabine teases with a smirk, turning from her howler to find shin. the blonde padawan is atop her white howler, head held high as always, and a ghost of a smirk on her lips. something felt a little off, though.

shin barely huffs out a laugh, sounding more like a restricted exhale. sabine watches closely; shin's arm is circled around her waist. like she's holding something in. sabine frowns, strutting closer towards shin, her skin breaking in sweat and her lips looking a little paler.

sabine then feels it; a pounding pain across her abdomen, the same area shin is clutching onto.

shin's tunic is leaking in red, sabine only now realises.

"shin!" sabine frantically approaches shin, wincing as she feels shin's pain on her body. the blonde padawan tries to get down from her howler, but could barely hold herself together. sabine commands the white howler 'tota' so she can help shin come down easier. "y-you're bleeding. what happened?"

shin grunts, pushing herself off of her howler. "i... we ran into a different group of bandits." her face contorts in pain as sabine lays her down on the ground, arm still clutching her bleeding abdomen. "they were not friendly." shin attempted at a joke, sabine assumes, but it came out as a whisper.

"i need you to remove your clothes." sabine hadn't realised what she blurted out, only registering what she said half a moment later, when shin looked at her with an incredulous and amused look. she tries composing herself as she says, "i brought a medkit, i'll wrap you up."

shin doesn't say anything, only nodding. sabine takes the sign to scramble back to her howler, grabbing her bag and searches for the medkit. she hopes it's sufficient enough to dress shin's wound, because if it's more serious, she'd need to take her to the fulcrum's medbay. that's about two dozens klicks from here, and sabine isn't sure shin can hold off that long of a journey back.

sabine returns to shin, laid on her back with the top part of tunic undressed. with it, reveals shin's wounded stomach. the injury is caked with a layer of crusted blood, mostly browned from oxidation, but still slightly leaking. sabine winces as she gauges the depth of shin's injury, but it's hard to conclude with the amount of blood covering the wound.

"i'm gonna start cleaning it up, okay?" sabine warns shin as she prepared a disinfecting kit, in which shin merely nodded weakly in response to. "it's gonna be a bit painful, so tell me if it's too much."

"do it," shin grunts, preparing herself. when the disinfectant grazes her injured skin, shin barked out a long and painful groan. sabine winces when shin grabs her arm, seemingly out of painful instinct. shin's body writhes as sabine continues wiping the bloodied wound, head thrown back whilst her eyes shut tightly in an agonizing manner. her eyes bolted open in a frenzy as she growled out, "fuck!"

sabine whispers calming phrases that she can remember in mando'a, working quickly and precisely on shin's injury. once cleaned, sabine can finally measure the depth of the gash on shin's stomach, and deduces it isn't as deep as she thought. it definitely requires stitching, and with limited kit, sabine had to resort to the quick-stitcher.

shin had gone quieter, huffing barely audible grunts. watching shin this awfully pale and unusually languid terrified sabine; she's always used to viewing shin as this indestructible force, that she's forgotten shin too, can bleed. her chest rises and falls in an arrhythmic pattern, lips pale and eyes sunken in.

"hey. shin?" sabine gently touches her shoulder, and shin sluggishly moves her head to face her. she smiles, tight-lipped and half apologetic. "i'm gonna stitch you up quickly, yeah?"

"alright." shin nods weakly, dropping her head back to the side again, facing away from sabine.

sabine sanitizes the quick-stitcher, a stapler-like device, and applies a topical numbing gel around the gash. shin hisses at the contact, but exhales softly afterwards. sabine works her way quickly, stitching shin's wound closed. the numbing gel works, sabine can tell from the way shin merely jumps at the first few stitches but didn't groan in pain.

when the last stitch was applied, sabine applies healing ointments before she props shin up to a raised position as she quickly wraps shin's wound with a sterile gauze neatly. sabine reaches to a boulder nearby through the force, placing it behind shin so the blonde padawan can lean her back against it to support her body.

"okay," sabine said in a relieved half-whisper, haphazardly storing her equipments back to the medkit box, "there. you're all good."

shin was quiet for a bit, huffing a long drawn-out breath. her eyes slowly opens, and sabine can guess she's slightly disoriented and hazy. shin's hand raised to hold her neatly bandaged torso, still partially naked as her tunic hangs open on her shoulder.

"this was not how i expected the day to go." shin winces as she tries sitting more upright, making a move to redo her tunic. the tone of her voice is indecipherable, but if sabine dared to guess, she sounds somewhat embarrassed of herself.

sabine's lips quirk to a half smile, sitting properly. "yeah, well. i don't think anyone ever really plans to get ambushed by a group of rogue bandits, huh?"

shin rolls her eyes weakly. "you are really not as funny as you think, did you know that?"

"you have a really funny way of saying thanks, did y'know that?" sabine returns with a cock of her brow. that earned her a faint disgusted look from shin, making her snort. she nudges shin, teasing but careful not to hurt the wound. "i did, just save you from bleeding out."

"you are infuriatingly confusing," shin sighs, leaning her head back against the rock behind her, but smiling at sabine nonetheless, "but i appreciate your help. you worked quick enough that it was not torturous for me."

this time, sabine rolled her eyes at shin's dry joke. "ha-ha. maybe i should have, if you wanted me to hurt you that much."

shin doesn't say anything, her faint smile shifts a little more somberly as her lidded eyes stays fixated on sabine's. the mandalorian sinks into shin's darkened greenish-blue eyes, couldn't tear her eyes away even if she wants to. not like she wants to, anyway. shin's pupils are slightly blown, but her gaze is strong. it reminded sabine when she stared at her at the shuttle ship, descending from morgan's golden hyperspace donut.

"what is in your head?" shin mutters with her usual tilt of her head, voice slightly scratched and accent heavy on her tongue. her evergrowing pale fringes are sticking to her forehead, edges poking her lids. sabine couldn't stop herself from brushing them away gently with the pads of her fingers.

sabine smiles. "aren't you usually in it? 'soka told me everyone can hop into my brain now, because i can access the force."

shin had this ghost of an unimpressed look on her face that sabine finds mildly hilarious. "just because we are intertwined in the force, doesn't mean i know what you are always thinking. your mind is always... a forest. a colourful and loud forest."

sabine typically doesn't blush this easily, but the things shin says or do makes it really hard for her to contain her flustered reactions. she had to actively fight her blush down so she wouldn't turn half as red as her hair when she was twenty six.

"uh, thanks?" sabine manages lamely, losing any remaining ounces of eloquency. when shin had this barely readable expression on her face, something that sabine tries to decipher as amusement, she tries to shift topic, "anyways. i was about to hop in for a relaxing dip before i had to stop you from spilling your whole guts out, literally."

shin rolled her eyes at sabine's joke, earning a satisfied smirk from the mandalorian. she then tries to get up, which immediately sprung sabine to help. "a soak in the hotspring does sound nice."

sabine tries to sit shin back down. "whoa, hey. what do you think you're doing?"

"going for a dip."

"uh, not with a big ass gash on your stomach, you won't?"

"you dressed it already." shin stubbornly retorted.

sabine groans, exasperated. "yeah, and it'll undress if you go for a soak, di'kut."

shin's brows dipped, contorting in a mild confusion and surprise. "what?"

"your bandage. it's gonna get ruined–"

"no, i know that," shin quickly interrupted sabine, inching closer in an unlikely speed towards the mandalorian's space, ultimately sending sabine backward out of reflex. shin's eyes narrowed. "you said something earlier. in an alien language."

"ali– huh?" sabine face contorts in confusion, before things began to click in her mind. "what, di'kut?" she repeated the word at shin, who nods in confirmation. sabine snorts. "that's a mando'a word. it means 'idiot'. because you were."

shin's brow furrowed, and sabine swears her bottom lip quirked up to a pouty frown. "i am not an idiot."

sabine shoots shin an unimpressed look, which the blonde padawan returns with an empty glare. "you literally wanted to soak in a hotspring after someone tore your whole stomach open."

"didn't you dress my wound with a waterproof gauze? it should keep dry for a few hours."

"i-" sabine tries to argue, but shin did have a point. the mandalorian sighed. even if she had better argument points, shin most likely would have ignored sabine and do as she wishes anyway. "alright, fine. but, if your bandage undressed and your wound reopens, you best believe i'll make it hurt when i have to restitch it."

shin quirked her brows in a manner sabine interprets as impressed. the blonde padawan smirks wolfishly. "is that a threat?"

sabine wants to wipe that infuriatingly attractive smirk on shin's face so badly. the mandalorian leans closer towards shin, closing the already small space between them, her eyes darting towards shin's now vanishing smirk. sabine's eyes finds shin's stellar blue eyes as she tilts the blonde padawan by her chin.

"it can be a promise."

sabine swears, for a miniscule split of seconds, shin's pupils dilated and she can hear the soft hitch of her breath; like it was caught in her throat.

shin huffs, amused. "i'll be waiting for it then."

sabine scoffs, but shin had ignored her. shin unclasps her armour and stacking them neatly beside her rock, struggling to lean forward to strip away the lower part of her clothes and armour. shin had kicked off her boots, and is now left with her tight fitting black tank and her matching underwear.

"are you gonna keep staring at me?"

shin's voice snaps sabine out of her blatant staring, turning away with the speed of light to hide her blush. to stop herself from thinking about shin undressing in front of her, sabine immediately began taking off her beskar, one plate at a time.

sabine heard shin rustling behind her, attempting to stand and walk on her own. she had to turn, and saw shin wobbling unsteadily on her feet, but after a few steps, she regained a somewhat more stable stride. when shin finally got into the water, sabine had just finished stripping out of her jumpsuit. she left her beskar pieces neatly next to shin's own armour.

the hotspring feels a lot warmer than yesterday, but it isn't like the heat is intolerable. shin had sat herself down closer towards the deeper parts, the clear water stopping just at her collarbones. her eyes are closed as she dips her head back into the water, and comes back up swiftly. she wipes away water and stray hair clinging to her face, and sighed.

"the water just fine for you?" sabine asks as she dives headfirst, feeling the warmth prickling her cold cheeks. she resurface with a gasp, brushing purple locks away from her face and swims towards shin.

shin hums, eyes still closed. sabine couldn't help but watch shin's throat bobs up and down, and nearly drowned herself after catching herself doing it. shin's voice is soft when she spoke: "the springwater feels nice. i find this place to be a sanctuary in the midst of this wasteland of a planet."

sabine swims closer, stopping herself only a few inches away from shin. "yeah?"

shin nodded, finally peeling her eyes open. her gaze finds sabine's, and sabine began to wonder why are shin's eyes so captivating that she couldn't look away even if she tries. her aquamarine eyes began to roam sabine's face, dancing all over to find whatever it is shin is trying to find, before settling on her lower lip for a few seconds.

sabine feels shin reaching out to her, spread out in thr force. she reached towards shin, trying to meet her in the middle. her eyes almost rolled shut when she finds shin within the force, feeling an intense wave of warmth washing over her whole body.

shin is pulling her closer.

sabine hadn't even realised that she was physically padding towards shin's body until she opens her eyes and finds herself in between shin's legs. her face was much too close to shin's face, but shin isn't showing signs of protest. the blonde padawan's skin has regained some colour from sitting in the hotspring that she lost from the injury, and sabine finds herself staring unashamedly at shin's lips.

it's safe to say that shin barely noticed anything from sabine, because she's also much too occupied eyeing sabine's own lips hungrily. their bond in began to pulse and pull each other in as they feel each other and the ever growing tension that seems amplified. shin had already engulfed sabine in the force with her own tendril-like connection, wrapping her in an intense wave of pleasure and warmth.

"shin…" sabine couldn't stop a breathy whine laced underneath as she says the other padawan's name, the sound escaped her lips straight into shin's mind.

shin winces when sabine wraps herself around shin through their bond, and for a fraction of seconds, the mandalorian was worried she might have hurt shin. alas, with the way shin is grabbing onto sabine's hips, sabine can easily concur that it isn't out of pain. shin's skin burns under her touch, and not because of the warmth of the water surrounding them.

sabine hadn't even realised her body was being yanked forward and found herself seated atop of shin, suddenly looking down into a pair of darkened blue-greenish eyes and drowning into her.

shin's eyes flickered from sabine's down to her lips again before coming back up to meet her again. there's raw and hungry need behind those eyes; sabine doesn't even need to look at shin's eyes to know. sabine ran the pad of her thumb against shin's lower lip, almost sighing when her lips nibbled against her thumb.

she can feel shin; everything that shin is feeling.

shin's lips tremble against sabine's thumb, leaving her lips parted expectantly, and sabine is actively fighting the urge to slip her thumb inside. instead, she drags her thumb down to shin's chin, tilting her up even further. a surprised whine escaped shin.

"sabine…"

sabine shuts her eyes again. she reels in the way shin had said her name in the exact same way as she did yesterday; the way it sends chills up her spine and warmth down her abdomen. shin's grip on her hips tightened, threatening to dip lower. sabine couldn't help but smirk when she opens her eyes again, finding a new and much more satisfying look on shin's eyes.

shin is desperate; oozing with so much want.

"tell me," sabine whispered just above shin's lips, pulling back when the blonde padawan chases after her lips; smiling so teasingly as she hovers above, "what do you want, shin? use your words, cyar'ika."

a soft grunt escaped shin's lips, going straight into sabine's mouth, incoherent, but sabine heard it fine. "i need to kiss you."

sabine smiles, satisfied. her hand finds the side of shin's head, fingers gripping her mane of blonde as she dives her lips into shin's hungry ones. she can feel shin instantaneously grabbing her by her ass and pulls her closer into the open mouthed kiss, moaning from her touch straight into shin's throat.

shin is impatient; jagged and hurried, as she devours sabine whole. her teeth found flesh so easily and efortlessly as sabine allows her to nip and bite on her bottom lip. sabine tasted shin's pure, unadulterated raw need and want bleeding into her tongue, gripping into shin's neck and hair like a lifeline.

everything felt explosive; within her, within shin, and the area around them. their bond heightened every single senses in their body and tuning them to each other and everything surrounding them. it's sending sabine to a huge overdrive.

sabine began to wince in a mix of pleasure and pain; everything pricks at her skin but it feels so good at the same time. her fingers slipped further into the back of shin's head, yanking her hard enough to pull shin out of their hungry kiss. shin, much like a hungry animal, instantly chased for skin when they separated from the kiss, her lips and teeth latching onto sabine's pulse.

"shin... it's–" sabine chokes a moan when shin sucks just right on her pulse point, "fuck… shin... we need–" a louder moan escaped her, unsure why, "shin, it's t-too much now… we need to stop… shin!"

sabine's words fell on deaf ears as shin ignores her and kept her mouth busy on her collarbones, hands roaming on her ass like it's the only thing keeping shin alive. sabine wishes she could give in to the pleasure, but the pain is getting unbearable. the hand on shin's neck pushed her down hard enough, eliciting a surprised choked moan from shin.

sabine had to pretend that the noise didn't arouse her so much more than shin already did.

"shin, we need to p-pull away..." sabine hisses sternly through pain and pleasure. when she felt the bond between them pulsing again, she had to fight back another moan. "shin, pull away. right now."

shin regained a little more coherency and restraint at the urgency in sabine's tone, nodding as she began to slowly detach herself from sabine, physically and through the force.

somehow, pulling away from each other has become more painful than when they were engulfed in each other. shin growled carnally while sabine is on the other end, clutching her whole body in her arms because of the pain.

sabine immediately shuts off the bridge between them the same time as shin did, and much like yesterday, they both laid on opposite ends with bated and uneven breaths. shin laid flat on her back against the edges of the spring, whereas sabine was on her stomach and propped on her arms weakly.

"shin," sabine breathlessly called, trying to crawl closer towards shin. she gargled on the water, choking out, "are you okay?"

shin grunts as she rises from the water. "i'm alright." she turns to find sabine beside her. "you do not look or sound as alright."

sabine shush her as she tries dragging her body upwards, flipping over wetly so she's on her back. "shut up. not everyone who just had what felt like force-sex on spice gets to walk away as easily as you do, okay? i think i fried a bunch of my nerves."

"i see you've found your eloquency back."

"fuck you."

shin kinked a brow, amused. "didn't you already?"

sabine shot her a glare, but with the flushed cheeks, it's really not putting much effect. "shin hati, i swear i'll shoot you with my blaster if you keep talking."

sabine swears she saw shin's cheeks and neck flush a faint red, but doesn't think much about it, blaming it on the heat of the hotspring. speaking of necks, sabine starts to feel the dull throb of where shin had latched on her skin, groaning loudly.

"please tell me you didn't leave any marks," sabine moans as she touches the tender spots.

shin eyes sabine's neck, a ghost of her infuriating smirk began to haunt over her lips. guiltlessly, shin says, "there are some red marks all over."

"oh, come on! i bruise easily, shin!"

"you are a lot more adorable than i thought, then."

sabine grumbled loudly, but can't really bring herself to be actually mad at shin. "i really am going to shoot you with my blaster one day."

shin tilts her head back. "i will be waiting on that." she then slowly starts to rise from the water, walking slightly bent forward while clutching her bandaged wound. sabine watches with narrowed eyes as shin struts towards their pile of clothes and armour.

sabine had suspected something, immediately rising from the water to chase shin. shin quirked her brows, expression confused, but her body is shifted away from sabine's eyes as shin fumbles over with her tunic and pants.

sabine crossed arms. "your wound opened, didn't it." when shin ignored her, sabine grabbed her by her hips to look for the injury. and sure enough, the now soaking bandage is seeping with red right where shin's wound is at. "i told you it'll reopen."

shin merely shrugs, putting on her pants and tunic over her wet clothes. she began clasping up her armour pieces, while sabine huffs and puts on her own jumpsuit, skipping her beskar pieces. she takes out the large fur coat in her bag to make room for her beskar, tossing the coat at shin.

"what is this for?" shin asks, puzzled.

sabine zips up her jumpsuit. "put it on. it's almost nightfall and it'll get cold. you're coming back with me to my camp."

shin frowns. "no. i will go back to my own."

"shin, for fuck's sake," sabine groaned, unamused, "your wound is open. you come back to your camp with a gaping wound like that, and i'll have to look for your cold body tomorrow. i doubt the bandit's camp is crawling around with medkits or droids." when shin is unmoving, sabine sighs, speaking softer, "come with me. just for the night. deal?"

shin was quiet for a few beats, before sighing curtly. "fine. just for tonight."

sabine nodded, helping shin get up on her howler. "stay slumped over so your stitches won't get any more loose."

shin nodded quietly, and sabine hops onto her howler, guiding the white howler behind her as they make their way back to the fulcrum and the noti camp. sabine made a couple turns to look back at shin, making sure she didn't fall off her howler, and was relieved each time shin stays slumped over. her white howler is swift, but is gentle with shin.

they made it back to the fulcrum in only a couple of minutes, and sabine quickly got down from her howler to help shin come down from hers. sabine saddles her bag on one shoulder, and props shin on her other shoulder as they walk into the fulcrum's landing ramp.

"huyang!!" sabine yells into the fulcrum and drops her bag haphazardly. "is the med droid online?"

huyang appeared from the lightsaber parts storage room, halted in his track as he finds an awkwardly standing sabine with shin on her shoulder, looking at him expectantly and impatiently.

"i believe it's rebooting. i'll go and check it."

sabine mutters a small 'thanks' as she drags shin towards the medbay, the sliding door hissing open and the whiff of sanitary disinfectant hits both of their nostrils. shin wrinkles her nose, disagreeing with the scent, but made no comments.

"c'mon, let's get you up on the bed."

sabine hurriedly unclasped the fur coat and diligently undoes shin's damp tunic. she turns to the shelf to grab a pair of scissors to rip open shin's bandage, tossing the damp and bloodied gauze away. she snips away at the quick-stitches and threw them. she was preparing a disinfecting wipe when the door slides open and revealed an inquisitive ahsoka.

"sabine?"

"oh, hey, 'soka." sabine nods at her master. she then began to dab the disinfectant wipe on shin's without warning or preparation.

shin instantly growled, "fuck, sabine!!" while yanking on the sleeves of sabine's jumpsuit. the blonde padawan threw her head back in pain, before shooting a rabid glare at sabine as she spits, "a warning would be nice."

sabine rolled her eyes, ignoring shin. "i told you. if your wound reopens, i'll make the restitching hurt. you wanted my promise, didn't you?"

"fuck you." shin barely hissed it out because she had to throw her head back in pain when sabine pressed the wipe on her wound harder, groaning loudly.

"lady wren, the medic droid is online." huyang calls from the doorway, just behind ahsoka. "do you still need it's assistance?"

"no."

shin glares at sabine, borderline murderous. sabine thinks it's familiar to when they first met.

ahsoka steps in, lucky for shin. "let the droid work. sabine? a word."

sabine nods, tossing her wipes away. she sneers at shin. "you're lucky tonight, shin." she skids over to let the medic droid in to the medbay, grabbing huyang by his metallic arm, softly whispering, "keep an eye on her, will you?"

huyang nods, and sabine left shin with the droids in the medbay as she struts towards the common table with ahsoka sat on it. sabine pours two cups of tea, and slides the other cup at ahsoka while she sips on her own cup.

sabine was the first to ask. "what's up?"

"did you fight her?" ahsoka nods at the medbay.

"no, i found her like that. said she ran into a different kind of bandits and someone nearly gutted her." sabine sets down her cup, crossing her arm forward. "i patched her up, but the stitches were loose. had to bring her here, else she'd spill her whole intenstines out."

ahsoka nods, slow and processing. she sighs, and sabine isn't quite sure what that meant. "do you trust her, sabine?"

"shin?" sabine's brow quirked, chuckling. "she's harmless as a loth kitten. a bit feral, but a kitten, nonetheless."

"did she come with willingly?" ahsoka shifts to face sabine, curious.

sabine shrugs. "only for the night. i don't know about next, but that's a problem for tomorrow." the mandalorian stretches her arms up high, feeling her muscles tightening in coils. "she can have my bunk, i'll sleep at the cockpit."

ahsoka chuckles. "no, you won't. stay with her."

"what do you mean stay with her?" sabine had whipped her head at ahsoka in a speed of light.

"no need to pretend like you don't like staying by her side when you're with me, padawan," ahsoka teases sabine, nudging her shoulder as she heads towards the medbay. her togrutan master had an amused look in her eyes that sabine does not like, and it doesn't help stopping herself from getting flustered. "i'm gonna have a sit down talk with her for a bit."

the medbay door closes, and sabine groans. there's really no arguing with ahsoka at this point, so sabine heads to the bunks to clear out her bunk. she shuts the door to the bunks to change from her jumpsuit to a more casual, loose fitting sleepwear clothes. subconsciously, she draws another pair of light shaded sleepwear clothes for their guest.

sabine gets out of the bunks to grab her bag and unpack her beskar pieces and stores them properly. she scatters her armguards and blasters on the common table, inspecting and polishing her weapons.

she reloaded her blasters with new rounds, and was in the middle of inspecting her armguards when the medbay door hissed open, producing ahsoka and a topless shin, with neatly stitched stomach.

sabine had to forcibly peel her eyes off of shin, and catches ahsoka telling shin, "rest for the night. we can discuss more in the morning."

shin doesn't say much, only nodding at ahsoka. sabine watches as her master gently pats shin's shoulder in a similar gesture as ahsoka always does to sabine. ahsoka heads towards the cockpit and shutting the door, leaving the two padawans in an awkward silence in the common table. huyang had left elsewhere, probably going to low power mode after rebooting the medic droid.

sabine looks at shin, who was already staring at her. the mandalorian leaves her weapons on the common table, grabbing shin by her hands to drag them towards the bunks and shutting the door behind. shin stood like a lost puppy, half naked, so sabine hands her the pair of sleep clothes.

"put these on," sabine instructed, kinking her brows, "what happened to your tunic?"

shin puts on the loose sleeveless shirt, struggling slightly due to the fresh stitches. sabine tries not to think of how adorable shin is with dishevelled hair. "your droid took it to get it cleaned. he insisted."

sabine laughs. "ah, yeah. that's huyang for you."

shin looks around curiously, holding her pauldrons. "where should i put my armour?"

"just put it on the storage compartment over there." sabine yawned, stretching her back. "you go ahead and sleep on my bunk. i'm gonna take the spare."

"and your master?"

"ahsoka? she seems content with sleeping in the cockpit. i don't blame her. she purrs in her sleep."

shin had an incredulous look on her face, but didn't comment on it. she sighs as she strips off her pants to switch into the matching sleep pants sabine gave her, before tucking into sabine's bunk. sabine watches curiously as shin squeezes far into the wall, leaving space beside her, turning to look at sabine expectantly.

"there's more than enough space here."

"what, you want me to sleep with you?"

shin shot her a look. "do not pretend like you weren't considering it. i can still feel your thoughts."

sabine tries to argue, but purses her lips anyway. she huffs, taming down the blush rising on her chest. "fine, alright. stop peeping into my brain."

shin shuffles as sabine lays down beside her, a faint smirk curling up her lips. "i am not. besides, there isn't much to look into anyway."

sabine wanted to say something snarky back at shin, but watching shin with her dishevelled hair and face much too close than sabine expected, she couldn't stop herself from letting her gaze drop to shin's lips. without thinking, sabine caught shin's lips in hers, smirking in satisfaction when shin made a noise akin to a soft mewl. it was swiftly replaced with shin kissing her back hungrily in rushed little pecks.

"eager, aren't we?" sabine mutters in half-whispers against shin's lips, pulling back teasingly when she frustratedly tries to chase sabine's lips. she supressed a moan when one of shin's hands grips at her hip, rewarding the blonde padawan with another kiss and tugs at her now reddening lower lip.

shin doesn't reply verbally, opting to slot one of her thighs between sabine's, humming in satisfaction when the mandalorian instinctively bucked her hips against her. when she spoke again, her voice is husked and low, "you were saying?"

sabine sighed, finding shin's hungry gaze again.

oh, this is definitely going to be a long night.

[strawberriesinmoominvalley]

After Max saves Arthur from their abusive pack and never returns, Charles and Lando escape with the goal of finding them. But when they are only reunited with Arthur, it becomes clear that Max has been caught within the abusive pack once more. There is an obvious solution to this: destroy the pack once and for all.

Charles can’t afford to lose anyone else he loves. Lando doesn’t know how to trust alphas. Alex wants his and George’s second chance to work. George wants everyone to be safe. Oscar doesn’t know how to cope with the responsibility he’s been forced into. No one knows how to deal with the loss of Max; everyone wants Max back.

Long story short, this is easier said than done.

[sorinethemastermind]

Blackest Night (3/4)

In which Soren's family search for him in the hopes it's not too late, and Soren has to choose his destiny. @honeii-puff here's like 9K words of emotional devastation.

 Soren opened his eyes, but he might as well not have. His surroundings were pitch black. Until they weren’t.

 A beam of light pierced the endless darkness overhead, shining directly down onto him. He squinted, throwing up a hand to shield his eyes. It was then, with his hand over his face, that he realized the purple veins were gone. He turned his hand over and over, inspecting it. The cut on his palm was gone as well. And… he felt fine?

 He looked around, eyes slowly adjusting to the dichotomy of complete light and darkness. There were no trees, no sky, no grass beneath his feet. And most importantly, no Aaravos.

 “Hello?” he called, turning to take in the endless dark surrounding him. No shapes loomed out of it, no figures appearing to tell him where he was or what this was. Did he cast a spell on me? Soren wondered, beginning to panic. Does that mean Aaravos survived? 

 “Hello? Is anybody there?” he called again, stepping out of the beam of light. Or, trying to. It moved with him and he glanced up, searching for a source. That was a mistake, it was blinding, and he looked away quickly, blinking rapidly. 

 “Alright, fine.” he said to the darkness. “If you won’t tell me what you are, then I’ll just figure it out myself.”

 He started to walk. The light followed him, the darkness on every side remaining otherwise absolute. It gave him the impression of walking in place, which as good a work out as that could be, was not his intention. But he had to be going somewhere. This place couldn’t go on forever. Could it?

 It took him a little while to realize that there was something different under his feet. Soren looked down, confused to see footprints that weren’t his own. He looked behind himself, the vague outlines of them just visible in the dimness where the light met the darkness, fading out of view behind him like they went on forever, too. He turned back ahead and saw them stretching before him as well; definitely not his own footprints, then.

 He followed them, his own feet fitting them perfectly, as though the path had been made for him. As though some other version of him had walked it long before he had ever come to this place. Or, Soren thought more logically, maybe I’m just going in circles and I didn’t realize it. 

 But that made less and less sense the more he thought about it. He’d been walking straight this entire time, never even weaving to one side or the other. Which could only mean one thing; he wasn’t alone.

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 Thankfully, Corvus was a tracker and Soren wasn’t the most subtle man in the world. They were able to pick up his trail fairly easily, once they realized he’d left straight out the main gate. His footsteps in the ash led them to the edge of the road, and from there into the woods. His destination was clear to all of them, and they picked up the pace, moving as quickly as they could over the uneven ground. 

 Aaravos had thought of that, too. Callum thought bitterly. The trees were too thick for horses, the ground uneven enough to make sure a larger force would have a hard time picking their way through. 

 “Why would Soren do this?” Ezran was asking, panting as he trudged alongside them. His shorter legs were having to work twice as hard for him to keep pace with them. 

 “I don’t know.” Callum said, the animosity between them forgotten under the current circumstances.

 “You two don’t pay very good attention, then.” Corvus said from up ahead, turning back to them. “He would do anything for you.”

 “But we didn’t ask-”

 “You didn’t have to.” Corvus said, turning back to the trail. 

 Callum felt chastised, and maybe rightly so. Soren had always been there for them, even after things got complicated. Sure, there had been some bumps in the road. But he was practically their brother. Callum shook his head.

 “I just don’t understand why he’d be so stupid as to go and do it alone.”

 “He’s Soren.” The other three said at once.

 Callum grimaced. The spell had certainly seemed like a better idea when it had been his own life on the line. Now though… he just hoped they wouldn’t arrive too late.

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 Soren followed the path of footsteps for a long time. He wasn’t honestly sure just how long, but it was enough for him to start to wonder if he really had just been going in circles this entire time. He was on the verge of giving up; breaking off and walking into the darkness in some other direction just to see what would happen, when he saw a glimmer of movement in the distance. He picked up the pace, at first shifting into a light jog, but it turned into an all out run not long after.

 The glimmer slowly gained a form, and then features, and then Soren came to an abrupt halt. He was close enough now that the light shone on the both of them, and he reached out towards the familiar figure.

 “Clauds?” he asked, hesitating for a moment before grabbing her arm. “Claudia, is that you?”

 She didn’t wrench away from him like he’d expected her to, instead turning slowly to face him. Her skin was a pale gray, marred with the dull purple scars of dark magic. Her hair, once black, was almost entirely white. 

 “Sorbear?” she asked, eyes going wide, her smile wider. “Oh, it is you!” 

 She threw her arms around him in a tight embrace, catching Soren off guard and nearly throwing him off balance. 

 “I’ve missed you.” she said before releasing him, stepping back to smile up at him. “But now you’re here!”

 Claudia grabbed his hand and started pulling him on along the path, their footfalls landing perfectly in the indents already laid out before them. Even though he’d found Claudia, the prints were still stretching ahead of them both; like a preordained road to… somewhere. He didn’t know where, and didn’t know if he wanted to.

 “Claudia, wait.” Soren pulled his hand from her grasp, forcing her to stop and turn back to him. “Where are we?”

 “We’re not there yet, silly.” she said, rolling her eyes. “Come on, we will be soon.”

 “No.” Soren said, glancing around them in steadily growing alarm. “Where are we right now? Did Aaravos trap you in here, too?”

 “Trap me? We’re not trapped. We’re almost there.” She reiterated, trying to take his hand again. He pulled away from her. 

 “Clauds, I don’t think this is right.”

 She frowned, eyes flickering solid black for a split second, and Soren took a step back. But then it was gone, like he’d made it up. Maybe he had, along with the rest of this place. Or maybe…

 “Claudia, it’s okay. I’m going to get you out of here.” Soren placed his hands on her shoulders, only seeing the smiling face of his little sister despite the gray complexion and violet markings.

 “It’s going to be okay.” he repeated.

 “What do you mean it’s going to be?” she asked, tilting her head to give him a confused half smile. “It’s already okay. We’re almost there.”

 “I don’t know where there is.” Soren told her. “But if Aaravos wants us to go that way, we definitely shouldn’t.”

 “Aaravos is dead, Sorbear.” she told him, patting him on the shoulder. “You killed him, remember? Now come on, Dad is waiting." 

 “Dad-” the word shot through Soren like lightning, his grip on Claudia’s shoulders tightening. 

 “Ow!” she pulled away from him and he released her instantly. “Soren, you’re scaring me.”

 “I- I’m sorry.” he stammered, reaching out for her momentarily before pulling his hands back. “It’s just… Dad is dead, Claudia.”

 “No.” She shook her head. “No. No, no-”

 “But it’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of here. We still have each other. We’ll figure it out. ” 

 Claudia’s shoulders were shaking, and Soren glanced around desperately for a way out, another pathway, anything.

 “No-no-no-no.” Claudia was saying, the words bleeding together as her voice climbed higher. “No-no-no-no-no!”

 Soren turned back to her, searching for something to say, some way to explain what had happened. But before he could say anything she threw back her head, a hysterical burst of laughter escaping her throat.

 “No, no, no!” she screamed, and when she looked back at him, purple tears were leaking down her face. “Dad isn’t dead, because if he was, then it would be your fault. And you wouldn't do something like that, would you? Not again. Because I don’t think I could forgive you a second time.”

 “Oh, no, no, no.” Claudia shook her head. “I don’t think I could forgive you a second time.”

 “Clauds, please, you have to understand.” Soren reached for her, his voice breaking.

 “How could you?” She screamed. “How could you? How could you?”

 Soren covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, the shrill sound echoing through the darkness around him. 

 “How could you? How could you? How could you?”

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 Rayla was pretty sure this was all her fault, somehow. Then again, she was pretty sure that most things were. She was exhausted; both mentally and physically. But she couldn’t let that stop her. Not now, not when Soren could be dying around any corner. 

 If only I hadn’t asked Callum to come sleep in my room, she berated herself. How dumb am I? How could I have not seen this coming.

 “Rayla, are you okay?” Callum’s voice broke through her internal litany and she turned to where he was walking beside her. It was nearly midday, and she could see the sweat on his brow, the tired bags under his eyes from another sleepless night. Even when they did reach the glen, they were in no position to face Aaravos. Their only hope was that Soren had succeeded in casting the spell and killing him. And that meant hoping that Soren had, in fact, poisoned himself with Dark Magic. It was a grim hope. One Rayla would rather not have. 

 “I’m okay.” she sighed. What else was there to say? It wasn’t like they could turn back. Not when this was their fault in the first place.

 “Do you need to rest?”

 “We can’t rest, Callum.” Corvus told them from up ahead. His lead had only grown over the last couple hours; nearly doubling so that now she only caught sight of him when he doubled back to check on them. Now must have been one of those times.

 “Soren could be anywhere, don’t you realize that?” he continued, voice hard and pointed. “Because of your spell.”

 “I didn’t ask him to do this!” Callum snapped back, instantly defensive. “And anyway, when did you start to care so much about Soren?”

 Rayla could see instantly in Corvus’ face that Callum’s words had actually hurt him, and she stepped between them. If Soren wasn’t here to do it, then she would have to fill his shoes. 

 “Stop it, both of you.” she told them. “Callum, I’m fine. And Corvus is right. We don’t have time to rest, anyway.”

 She turned to where the tracker had stopped in the woods up ahead of them. “And Corvus, you know he didn’t mean that. We all care about Soren. That’s why we’re on edge.”

 Corvus just sighed, the hurt in his eyes lingering despite her words. But it wasn’t hurt from what Callum had said, Rayla slowly realized. It was something deeper, older.

 “I just… couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to him, and I’d never told him.” Corvus said, slowly. 

 “Told him what?” Rayla asked softly, taking a few steps closer to him.

 Corvus didn’t meet her gaze, instead leaving it firmly fixed on his shoes. “That I love him.”

 She heard Callum’s stifled gasp behind her, but didn’t pay it any mind. Instead she crossed the remaining distance separating her from Corvus and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be able to tell him. I know it.”

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 When Soren opened his eyes, Claudia was gone, the shrill echoes of her laughter fading into the luxurious, if somewhat threadbare, upholstery of his father’s office. He let his hands fall back to his sides. What kind of prison is this, he thought desperately.

 “Ah, Soren, you’re here.”

 He whirled at the sound of his father’s voice, hand going for the blade at his side, except, of course, it wasn't there. Viren was facing a bookshelf a few steps away from him, one hand absently tracing the spines of the books even as his eyes roved over them. 

 “Good. Here it is." He took one of them down, walking past Soren as though this was a normal occurrence - as though he wasn’t a ghost - and cleared a space for it on the table. The tome made a loud thump as he dropped it onto the scarred wood, the cover falling open to reveal a page near the end, the paper creased and stained.

 “Come. I want to show you something.” his father said, beckoning him forward with a finger. Soren found his feet moving nearly of their own volition, carrying him towards the table. He considered resisting, but there was something oddly comforting about his father being there, just like he used to; dressed in his old robes of office and hunched over a book.

 “What is it?” Soren asked as he came to a halt beside Viren, only to find that he was too short to see over the top of the table. “I can’t see.” 

 His voice had climbed in pitch, and when he looked down at his hands, he found a familiar dragon plush clutched in them.

 “Daddy?” he asked, looking up. “Daddy, I can’t see.”

 His father reached down and picked him up, setting him on the edge of the table. Soren sat there, legs dangling over the side of the table, and peered at where Viren was pointing. The book depicted a smiling family; a mother, father, and two children. A son and a daughter. 

 “It’s us.” Soren declared, pointing at each in turn. “That’s you, and that’s Clauds, and that’s me, and that’s-”

 Except when he went to point at the mother, she was suddenly gone, and in place of the little family portrait were the instructions to a spell.

 “Where did Mommy go?” Soren asked, looking up at his father. His eyes, once smiling, had gone cold. Viren turned away. 

 “She left.” he told Soren, and the lights in the office began to snuff out until only one remained, directly above Soren’s head. He squinted against the harshness of it as his father’s form retreated into the dark.

 “Daddy?” he asked, the dragon plus falling from his grasp as he reached for him. But the darkness continued to swallow the room, and him with it. 

 “She left, just like you did.”

 “I- I had no choice.” Soren stumbled to his feet, legs suddenly long enough to reach the floor again. He grabbed for his father, but he was trapped inside the light, unable to reach him. “You didn’t give me any choice!”

 “You always had a choice.” Viren spat, turning back to him, eyes shining black, dull purple scars creeping out from beneath his collar and stretching up across his face. “I made sure of that. You would be dead without me, Soren. I gave you everything. And you still left. What did you want from me? What more could I have given you? I gave you my heart.”

 And the darkness ate up his father, and it ate up the room, and Soren was falling. 

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 Neither Ezran nor Callum really knew what to say to Corvus’ proclamation, so they just continued on. Rayla walked beside him for a little ways, offering comfort. She understood more than most, Ezran guessed, what waiting too long felt like. If in a different sort of way.

 Ez looked up at his big brother, plodding along beside him. He could see the tired lines in his face, reminding him of the way their father had looked after an especially long council session. 

 “Are you okay?” Ezran asked him, quiet enough that neither Rayla or Corvus could hear. He knew his brother well enough to know that if Rayla was present, he would be too worried about her to really talk about whatever was bothering him. They were both so silly, sometimes. 

 “I’m fine.”

 “You sure?” Ezran pried. “You certainly seem like you’ve got some big feelings in there.”

 “I said I’m fine.” Callum snapped, but after a moment his expression softened to one of remorse. “Sorry.”

 “It’s okay. You just needed to get it out of your system.”

 “I- I’m sorry, about a lot of things.” Callum admitted.

 "Well?" Ezran waited, raising an eyebrow at his older brother. Callum sighed, half laugh and half exasperation.

"I'm sorry about the way I've been treating you." he continued. "And I'm sorry about not warning you about Runaan, and I’m sorry about-"

"Wait, Callum." Ezran interrupted him. "I'm sorry, too. I… I understand why you brought Runaan back. I don't necessarily agree, but I understand. You did it for her."

 Their gazes both trailed up the path to Rayla and Callum smiled a little weakly.

 "I'd do anything for her." He looked back down to Ezran. "Just like I would do anything for you."

 "I know, Callum. But did you ever think that maybe I don’t want you to?”

 Callum paused, looked away. “That’s not how it works.”

 “Are you glad that Soren did this?”

 “What? No, of course not-” he broke off, shaking his head. “You’re good, you know that?”

 “I know it.” Ezran said, flashing his brother a quick grin before continuing; “So… you wish that Soren had come to you for help, and let you help him? Do you, maybe, I don’t know; wish he hadn’t of run off to sacrifice himself for the greater good even though you didn’t ask him to? Do you maybe wish that you could do something to help him other than just hope he’s alive?”

 “I think you’ve made your point.” Callum told him. Ezran stopped abruptly in the middle of the forest, turning to throw his arms around his brother.

 “Good.” he said, voice muffled by Callum’s shirt. After a moment his brother’s arms closed around him, and he rested his chin on Ezran’s head the same way he used to when Ez was small. He still was small. Sometimes even Ezran himself forgot that. 

 “No more stupid hero stuff.” Callum told him.

 “No more stupid hero stuff.” Ezran agreed. “We’re family. We’re supposed to be stupid together.”

 “Are you going to tell Soren that if we find him?”

 “When.” Ezran said, pulling away and looking up at Callum, expression set. “When we find him.”

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 Soren landed on something hard, and cold, and distinctly familiar. He gasped as the wind was knocked from his lungs by the force of the impact, taking a moment to regain it before trying to push himself back up to his feet. But his arms and legs didn’t obey. He tried again, but only achieved the same result. 

 A familiar panic filled him, and Soren fought to keep his breathing steady. Rain began to fall from the sky as he lay there, alone in the dark, unable to move. It was just him and the boulder. Until it wasn’t. Somewhere nearby a dragon roared and Soren flinched, or he tried to, but he couldn’t. 

 It’s okay, he told himself, desperation rising in his chest even as he tried to remain calm. His heart thudded against his ribs, the sound climbing in his ears. It’s okay, this isn’t real. It’s all just a trick. 

 But the roar of the dragon came again, closer this time, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing it away. It’s just Pyrrah. You and Pyrrah are friends. You’re friends with dragons. You’re one of the good guys now. 

 The roar sounded so close he imagined she had to be right in front of him, and his eyes flew open. But there was nothing there; only more darkness. 

 “Hello?” he tried, voice wavering. The rain filled his mouth when he opened it, and he spat it out. It tasted acrid, not like rain at all. “Hello!? Anybody?”

 Nobody appeared out of the darkness, not even Pyrrah. Was it Pyrrah? What if it was someone else, like the dragon that had destroyed Katolis? 

 As if summoned by the notion, buildings began to loom out of the darkness around Soren; crumbled battlements and the charred remains of the stables. His breathing quickened, what once had been rain turning to ash. It landed on him; coating his skin and filling his nose and mouth with every breath. Soren coughed, choking on the thick, cloying flakes. 

 “Help!” he called, watching as the ash began to build up on him. He tried again to move, but it was pointless. “Help! Help, anybody, please! I can’t move!”

 The ash was endless, covering everything in sight. It wasn’t long before it had built up enough of a layer on him that he blended into the already covered ground. 

 “Help!” he called again, but it just filled his mouth more. 

 Then, movement. Soren’s eyes tracked it along the edges of his peripheral vision, wondering if it was the dragon, come to finish him off. 

 “Hello?” he called anyway. If it was, then it was. And if it wasn’t, then maybe they could help him.

 “What is it that you said?” A voice answered from the dark, almost playful. “The castle is just a building, we need to save lives.” 

 “And how did you save those lives?" the voice asked, becoming painfully familiar. It was behind him now, but Soren couldn’t turn his head. It answered it’s own question. “By taking one. You really are your father’s son.”

 “I’m nothing like him.” Soren snarled.

 “Oh, but you are.” Aaravos crooned, stepping into view from around the other side of the boulder. “Asking others to sacrifice themselves for your greater good. Isn’t that why you left him, after all? And here you are, turning to Dark Magic the moment it’s convenient.”

 “There was no other way.” Soren said. “I- I didn’t ask him to do it. I offered to-”

 “Oh, you knew he would never agree to that.” Aaravos waved the notion away, but paused at the look on Soren’s face.

 “You really thought he would do that to you? Your father was never that much of a monster.” he laughed. “No matter how much you want to think him one, he always cared for you and your sister. It was his greatest weakness. It was what stopped him from being great.” 

 Aaravos clucked his tongue and gave a shake of his head. “A pity, really. He couldn’t be good, but if he hadn’t of had you holding him back, at least he could have been great. Your sister, on the other hand.” he smiled. “Now she will be great.”

 “You stay away from her!” Soren shouted, desperately trying to move. His body didn’t listen any more than it had before.

 Another voice came from the shadows then, and Claudia stepped into the light beside Aaravos. Her hair was solid white, her features scarred and distorted. Soren’s eyes widened. 

 “I thought you wanted me to make a choice?” she said, lingering at the elf’s side. Aaravos reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

 “No.” Soren choked out. “Please, Clauds, he’s dangerous.”

 “You said that about Dad, once. And look where he is now.” She waved a hand and gestured to the debris surrounding them. “Buried under the rubble of your failings. Maybe he wasn’t the dangerous one. Maybe it’s you.”

 “Claudia, please.”

 “You wanted me to choose, Soren. I made my choice.”

 “No, Claudia, you can’t do this.” But they were already fading into the darkness and he couldn’t even try and reach for her. “Claudia! He’s using you!”

 “Then what were you doing?”

 “What-”

 “I’m like this because of you.” she turned back to him, stepping out of the dark just enough for him to see her face again. Her hair had reverted to it’s original black, all but for a single white streak. “Everything I did, I did for my family. But you, you abandoned us. Just like Mom did. Just like everybody does.”

 “It wasn’t-”

 “You left me.” she sobbed. “You left me. You said that no matter what happened, we would always have each other. And then you left me.”

 She turned away again, her form retreating into the darkness. “See how it feels.”

 “Claudia! Wait, come back! I won’t leave you! I’m sorry! I won’t ever leave you again!” he called after her until his throat was raw and every breath was choked with ash. Until the rubble around him was buried in it, and he was too. Until all he could see, and taste, and breath was gray.

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

 When they found him, they almost couldn’t believe it. They arrived well after sundown, the moon and flitting forms of lighting bugs offering the only light. Corvus almost didn’t see it through the darkness, but at the last moment the moonlight reflected off a half broken statue of an elf, standing in a clearing, and he stumbled forward, feet crunching on something jagged.

 He looked down, lifting his foot carefully off the smashed glass jar on the ground. A book lay on the stone next to it, small droplets of blood smearing the page with the incantation.

 “Soren!” Corvus cried, not caring who might hear. “Soren, hold on!”

 He stumbled forward, hearing the others picking up the pace behind him. They burst into the clearing at about the same time that he spotted him, lying on the grass near the statue’s feet. But he wasn’t alone. There was a cloaked figure leaning over him, small and frail. Corvus’ hand drifted towards his weapon even before he realized who it was.

 Claudia looked up at him, the hood falling back from her face to reveal hair almost entirely stark white. The only thing that stalled his hand was the sight of the tears in her eyes, her cheeks already wet with them.

 “What did you have him do?” she asked, voice harsh and quavering. 

 Corvus came to halt above them both, and Claudia looked past him and towards the others. Her mouth twisted into a snarl. “What did you have him do!?”

 Ezran was the one who answered. “We didn’t ask him to do this, Claudia.”

 “And why should I believe that?” she hissed, standing up to face them, hands going to the staff slung across her back. “All you’ve ever done is use him.”

 “What are you talking about?” 

 “You- you manipulated him, lied to him. It’s the only way he could have… have turned on us. Turned on me. You did something to him.”

 “We didn’t do anything, Claudia.” Ezran’s voice was gentle, like he was trying to calm a wild animal.

 “Then why-” her voice broke, hand falling from the staff as she dropped back to the ground beside her brother, both hands clasping one of Soren’s. “Why would he leave me? Why would he do this?”

 “Aaravos is the one using people.” Callum said from behind Corvus. “Or, he was.”

 “Don’t talk about him that way.” Claudia snapped. “Aaravos believed in humans. He gave us magic.”

 “He destroyed Katolis! He killed your father!” 

 Claudia turned to them then, horror painting her features, but it was just as quickly replaced by disbelief. “He would never. You killed my father. You and your elf.”

 Corvus let them argue, he couldn’t care less. He dropped to Soren’s side even as Claudia rose from it, her and Callum’s voices rising as they began a shouting match. It wasn’t long before Ezran and Rayla joined them.

 Corvus brushed Soren’s hair from his face, clutching one of his friend’s hands to his chest. It was crisscrossed with purple veins, standing out against his pale skin.

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 “Come back to me, Soren. Please.”

 Soren was floating, drifting lazily through the dark as he sank further and further below the surface. The ash had given way to the endless churning of a gray sea, the crashing waves just vague flashes of movement far above him. But the familiar voice pierced the depths like a ray of light, illuminating the water around Soren. 

 “Corvus?” his question emerged as a stream of bubbles from his lips, and Soren was suddenly aware of the fact that his lungs were full of water. He choked, gasping desperately for air even as the feeling returned to his limbs and he began to kick towards the surface.

 He swam upward, but the churning waves above him never seemed to get any closer. Pushing frantically at the water, he tried to propel himself further, but what oxygen had been in his body was swiftly running out, the water in his lungs like a weight dragging him down further. He fumbled awkwardly with his armor, detaching it and letting it fall away. Lightened, he tried again, kicking at the water until-

 “Soren, please. Please come back to me. I need you.”

 His head broke the surface, coughing up water, and then his father was there, leaning over his bedside, and the waves had transformed into the rumbled sheets of his bed.

 “It’s okay, Soren.” His father said. “Breathe. Just breathe. In through-”

 Soren threw the remaining covers aside, stumbling from the bed and towards the door. He wasn’t going to do this again. He wasn’t going to fall for whatever trick this was.

 “Soren?” Another voice brought him to an instant standstill, and he stood there, eyes squeezed shut, as though that would stop him from hearing it. Stop it from being real.

 “Soren, are you alright?” his mother stood from her place at the foot of his bed, crossing the room to place a gentle hand on his arm. And suddenly he wasn’t trying to escape, he was trying to stay. To stay there in her arms, because she was enveloping him in a warm hug, and somehow she smelled the same way he remembered from when he was small. He hadn’t even realized he remembered until now. 

 He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, as though she could slip away at any moment. 

 “Soren, it’s okay. It’s okay, now. Just breathe.”

 And he did, shakily at first, but growing stronger and steadier, until his lungs weren’t burning anymore. She let him go, stepping back to look at him with a smile in her eyes and on her face.

 “There we go. Isn’t that better?”

 “You’re not real.” he choked out. “None of this is real.”

 “Of course I’m real, Soren.” she reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair out of his face. “I’m right here.”

 “No, you’re not.” he managed, almost as though convincing her would make it better. Would make this all end. “None of this is. You’re… you left. And Dad-”

 “What about me, son?” his father stood up, looking at him the way he used to. The way he looked at him before he got sick.

 “You’re dead.” Soren told him, voice breaking. “I killed you.”

 Something crashed above them and the beams of the house shook, but neither of them so much as glanced up. Soren could hear screaming outside, and he looked around wildly for the door. 

 “What’s happening?” he asked, but when he turned back to them, it was only his father, dressed in rags, standing in his cell. 

 The cuffs clattered from his wrists as Soren watched, and the screams outside rose in pitch. When Soren looked down at his hands, he found the Staff of Xiard clutched in them. He dropped it in horror, staggering back against the cold iron bars of the cell.

 “It’s okay, Soren.” his father stepped closer, leaning down to pick up the staff. “I have to do this.”

 “No.” Soren shook his head, blocking his way to the door. “I- I’m not going to kill you again.”

 “Oh, my son.” Viren took a step forward, reaching out for Soren hesitantly before letting his hand fall back down to his side. “You didn’t kill me. I made the sacrifice, the same way you did. Anything for family. However dangerous, however vile.”

 “But I-”

 “Don’t. Let me do this for you.”

 Soren hesitated. Anything for family. His expression hardened. “You’re right.”

 He reached out, snatching the staff from his father’s hands and running from the room. He let the cell door clang shut behind him, turning swiftly to lock it before his father could follow.

 “Soren!” Viren called, reaching for him through the bars. “Soren, don’t! Dark Magic is dangerous!”

 However dangerous. Soren ran for the stairs that led from the dungeons, turning back one last time as he neared them, just long enough to see his father’s sad smile. 

 “I’m so proud of you, son.”

 Soren turned and he ran away. He didn’t even notice that he was crying.

 The great tree in the courtyard was burning, raining flaming leaves onto the stones below. They singed Soren’s arms and face as he ran beneath it, yelling at everyone to get out; to leave everything and run. He thundered up the stairs and down the halls, barely stopping to catch his breath, and crashed through the already damaged doors and into the king’s quarters. There, he thought. That's where he did it. 

 Soren glanced around wildly, searching for a weapon. Ezran wasn’t the type to keep a blade in his chambers, but King Harrow had been. Soren pulled the halberd from the iron grip of the suit of armor that clutched it, trying desperately to remember what the rune was that he had seen on his father’s chest when he pulled him from the rubble. Despite his attempts not to look at it, the image had burned itself into Soren’s mind. He’d never thought he’d be grateful for that one day.

 He went to the edge of the bed, bracing the thinnest point of the metal against the footboard and applying as much pressure as he could. The cold steel cut into his hand as he pressed on it, but he didn’t stop until a small part of it snapped away. Discarding the rest of the weapon, he lifted the shard from where it had landed on the ground and - realizing he’d already abandoned his chestplate in the gray sea - set to work. 

 He hissed with pain as the metal bit into his skin, but the rune didn’t need to be deep. He hoped. Once he had finished, he let the shard of bloodied metal fall back to the floor and staggered towards the open doors of the balcony. He could still hear people screaming, their voices rising as he stepped out into the open air, thick with smoke and ash. Flames crackled nearby, and he could feel their searing heat on his face and exposed skin.

 The dragon swooped by overhead, and he could swear that he heard laughing. The cold, ruthless laugh of his enemy. Soren staggered forward, supporting himself on the carved railings of the balcony. Reaching the end, he hefted the staff before him, fingers slotting into place as though he’d done it a thousand times before. As though it were destiny.

 Maybe it was, some bitter part of him though. A destiny he’d spent his entire life running from. Well, he wasn’t running now. 

 “Hearts of cinder… do not burn.” he muttered it to himself the first time. “Hearts of cinder.. do not… burn.” he said it again, more forcefully this time. And when the dragon swooped by again overhead, he raised the staff, and he proclaimed it to the sky.

 “𝔑𝔯𝔲𝔟 𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞𝔠 𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔢𝔥!” the dragon’s head swiveled to face him at the sound of his voice, and it roared. But Soren wasn’t afraid. 

 “𝔑𝔯𝔲𝔟 𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞𝔠 𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔢𝔥!” he told it, watching as the purple light shone from the staff and washed over the people below him. It moved like a wave across the courtyard and the castle, enveloping everyone. It was kind of pretty, Soren thought dimly. 

 The dragon roared again, mouth opening wide, and he could see the flames building in its throat. But he just roared back. “𝔑𝔯𝔲𝔟 𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞𝔠 𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔢𝔥!”

 And the spell settled into place, protecting everyone below him. “My heart for Katolis!” he screamed at the dragon as it spewed it’s fiery breath down upon them. 

 And nobody burned, but Soren did. 

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

 Claudia shouted at them until her voice was hoarse and none of them had anything left to say. She probably would have kept shouting, even then, except as she was opening her mouth to do just that, Soren gave a horrible, blood curdling scream behind them and everything else was forgotten.

 Claudia fell to her knees beside her brother. Clasping his hand in hers and clutching it to her. His chest was rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths, and she could feel her own quickening to match. 

 “What’s happening to him?” Corvus asked her in a panic. Even as the rest of them argued with each other, he had never left Soren’s side. Claudia looked up to meet his gaze, finding tears in his eyes. She felt her own fill as well.

 “He’s dying.” she managed. Nobody, not even Callum, had the heart to yell at her then.

 “What do you mean he’s dying?” The elf - Rayla - dropped to the ground beside Corvus, looking anxiously down at Soren before glancing back up at Claudia. “He- he can’t be…”

 She trailed off, eyes roving over the spiderweb of deep purple veins stretching under his skin like tiny fissures. Some of them had burst, forming deep violet and magenta bruises across his body.

 “What’s happening to him?” The elf asked, a quaver in her voice. 

 Claudia remembered what her brother had said in the Drakewood about being friends with elves and dragons. Maybe he hadn't been full of it after all. But if he was right about that, then… she looked up at the statue looming over all of this, Aaravos’ face frozen forever in a snarl, a single line of moisture having leaked from his eye and down his cheek.

 She had tried not to think about what the others said. Not really. Aaravos had tried so hard to save her father, why would he turn around and kill him? And destroying the castle, that didn't make any sense at all... except that it did. And that reality had kept nagging at her even once they’d all stopped shouting and fallen into angry silence.

 Because the pearl had been there, waiting for him. Waiting for her. And the dragon that had done it - and died in the process - was an ancient enemy of his. Like from the story. She remembered Terry telling her how things got twisted along the way; warning her that she couldn't trust Aaravos.

 She didn’t know if she could bear it all being a lie. If she had just been a pawn. Claudia squeezed her eyes shut, lying her head on Soren’s chest and listening to the rapid thumping of his heart.

 “He won’t die.” Rayla said, as though willing it to be true. “Soren is strong. He’ll get through this.”

 “You don’t get it, do you?” Claudia murmured, not bothering to raise her head. “This isn’t like when Callum or I used Dark Magic. Soren is different.”

 She waited for them to put the pieces together, but they didn’t. Instead, after a moment, Callum asked; “What are you talking about?”

 Claudia did raise her head then, just enough to glare at him. “Can you really not put two and two together? The spell is reacting with the Dark Magic already in his system.”

 Callum looked like he was about to snap back at her, but Ezran interrupted his brother, raising a hand to shush him as he turned to Claudia. “Already in his system?”

 “Do you ever even talk to him, or do you just send him off on errands for you?”

 “Claudia, please.” And it was Corvus this time, voice filled with pain and fear, and she couldn't snap at him; not when it was so clear how much he cared about her brother. Claudia remembered, bittersweetly, how Soren had tried to shave a scar into his eyebrow like the one Corvus had. How cool he’d thought the older guard was, even then. So she sighed, and there wasn’t venom in her voice as she answered; only sadness.

 “You act all high and mighty, like it’s beneath you, but Soren wouldn’t be here without Dark Magic. Without me and my Dad’s magic. You were there." she said, looking up at Callum and his elf friend. "You saw the dragon. Did you really think he just got up and walked away after it slammed him with it's tail? Threw him into a rock?"

 She shook her head and laughed bitterly. "Of course you did, because if that's what happened, then him getting hurt wouldn't be your fault. This-" she thrust his hand out to them again, making them really look at the purple lines stretching across his skin. "This is how he's still standing. So you're welcome."

 Nobody interrupted her as she continued, the story pouring out of her now that she’d started. “He was paralyzed. None of my other spells were working, but I knew I couldn’t leave him like that. So I did what I had to do. However dangerous, however vile. Anything for family.” 

 She looked up at them, and she could imagine the way they saw her then. The monster they thought she was. “Anything.”

 But nobody called her names, or told her she was wrong, or that she was evil. Instead they just watched as she gently brushed her thumb across the back of Soren’s hand, willing him to wake up. When he didn’t, she went on.

 “You probably don’t remember, it was before you moved into the castle, Callum. Before Ezran was even born. But you do remember your Dad. You talked about it sometimes, after. Not much. Nobody likes to talk about those things. But I realized, later, that it must have been the same thing. When Soren was little, sometimes he couldn’t breathe. I didn’t really understand what was happening at the time, I was too little. But it was scary. And then it got really bad. He would just lie in bed all day, trying to breathe, and I could hear him through the walls. Fighting for every breath, every second of life.”

 She looked up at all of them, daring them to judge her. To judge her father. “So my Dad fixed it. He did what he had to do for our family. However dangerous, however vile. Soren is only alive because we’ve been willing to do whatever it takes. And I would do it all again. And maybe you think you wouldn’t, but you would. If it was Ez, or Rayla, or your Dad. You would do it too.”

 She was just speaking to Callum, then. Because he had always been the one who hated her for it the most, she knew. Who had been the most afraid. The weakest. But he didn’t look weak now. Or afraid. Instead she saw the harsh recognition in his eyes that yes, he would have done the same. However dangerous, however vile. 

 “And now he’s going to die.” Claudia said. “Because of all of you.”

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 Soren was ashamed to admit that he had screamed when the fire washed over him. It had only burned for a moment, but it had been one moment too many. He hated to think how long that single second had dragged on for his father. If it had been more than one; how long he might have lain there, alone, as the castle crumbled around him.

 But Soren had gotten lucky. From the fire he fell into a deep, cool blue ocean, and the water washed the heat and the burns away. Soren let it hold him, let it fill him up with peace and quiet and float him away wherever it liked. He was tired. He was done. He didn’t want to see what the next vision had in store for him.

 But eventually the waves washed him ashore and he found himself on a sunny beach, looking up at a blue, cloudless sky. Soren closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed himself to his feet. He couldn’t give up yet. 

 Surveying his surroundings, Soren tried to imagine what sort of monster would appear this time. Maybe a dragon, swooping down from overhead? Or an endless army of foes, rushing at him from the woods? Maybe it would be nice and simple; a Banther or something, come to gobble him up. He trudged over to the forest’s edge and snapped a large branch off one of the trees. At least this time he would have a weapon. But nothing came. 

 After a while of standing around, brandishing a stick at every rustling leaf or twittering bird, Soren began to feel silly and returned to the beach, settling down with his legs crossed before him to watch the gentle lapping of the waves. It was peaceful, and he was exhausted. First he let himself sprawl out on the beach, feeling the waves wash over his feet and enjoying the feeling of the sun on his face. Then he let go of the stick, using his arms as a pillow instead. Finally, he let the drowsiness of sleep take him .

 Soren dreamt of worried voices, calling his name and asking him to wake up. They started as a low murmur; the voices undistinguishable from each other as they wove in and out. But slowly, steadily, they grew in strength until he could hear Claudia and Corvus, Callum and Ezran and Rayla. Soren tried not to listen to them, to the worry in their voices and the fear, knowing that it was all just some cruel trick by whatever purgatory he was trapped in. 

 But then Claudia’s voice started to sob, begging him to wake up, telling him that he was the only family she had left; pleading for him not to leave her again. Saying that she needs him. And Corvus told him that he wasn’t allowed to die, that he had something important to tell him, if he would just wake up. And Rayla was saying that he was stronger than this, and Ez told him that he needed him, and Callum said that he was a part of their family, and Soren couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t ignore them and pretend that they weren’t there; because he needed them too.

 So he forced his eyes open, hand reaching for the stick, expecting to find himself back on the beach. But of course not, that would have been too easy. Instead his hand closed around his sword, lying at his bedside, and his eyes opened to find himself in his bedroom at the castle. Alright. He thought, standing and rolling his shoulders. Prepare to be dominated, evil dream world. My family needs me.

 Or maybe that was just a part of the hallucination, too. He pushed the thought from his mind. No. They need me. I just need to wake up. 

 Soren tried pinching himself to be sure he was still asleep and hadn’t just somehow been brought back to the castle, but while it hurt like all heck (he might have done it a bit too hard) he still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t a part of whatever hallucination he’d been having.

 Especially not when it was suddenly the dead of night. 

 The change had occurred as soon as he stepped out of his room and into the wider halls of the castle; the torches along the walls all bursting into flame, shadows growing in the dark recesses of the corridors until it was night inside and out. Soren’s grip tightened on his sword as he began to creep down the hall, feet carrying him towards the distant sound of fighting. It grew steadily louder as he approached, until he was stepping over what must have been the beginnings of it; fallen guards, pierced through by arrows with terrifying accuracy. 

 Soren almost came to a halt as he recognized the fletching on them; the all too familiar blue and green of the Moonshadow assassins that had taken King Harrow’s life. Alarmed, Soren glanced down at his armor, horrified to find that it was the old model; familiar silver, black, and gold. As if called into existence by his realization that it was there, his old cape billowed around his legs. Soren gritted his teeth and continued onward.

 The sounds of fighting only continued to grow in pitch and intensity until the clang of blades and muffled grunts of combat filled the entire hall, echoing around Soren like the chorus of some especially brutal song. His pace quickened, knowing now where he was going, until he was running through the halls of the castle. He skidded to a halt before the great doors, already pierced through and peppered with arrows, just like the bodies of the guard strewn before them. 

 He pushed them open and stepped inside just as one of the assassins withdrew their blade from King Harrow’s chest. Except it wasn't King Harrow. Soren let out an anguished cry as Ezran’s body slumped to the ground. The moonlight glistened off the polished silver of the assassin’s weapon as it dripped blood onto the floor, and they turned to Soren, pushing the hood back from their face to reveal a horrifyingly familiar face.

 “Rayla?” he gasped, taking a step back. She unsheathed her other blade, falling into an attack stance. “Rayla, please, I don’t want to fight you.”

 “I thought that was all you wanted?” she hissed, springing towards him with superhuman agility. He just barely managed to bring his blade up to block her strike in time, the pair of them stumbling back out into the hall. Soren fought desperately to keep his footing as she pressed him with everything she had, but he was exhausted, and she seemed to be enjoying herself. 

 “Rayla, stop! This isn’t you!”

 Her next blow sent the sword flying from his hands and she kicked him hard in the chest, knocking him to the ground at her feet. She leveled her blade at him, the tip of it hovering just above his face.

 “I thought this is all we were to you? Monsters to hunt for sport.”

 “I never-”

 “A dead dragon and a dead elf all in one day.” she mocked. “Everything’s coming up Soren.”

 “I’m sorry.” he told her, desperation entering his voice. “I was wrong.”

 “You bet you were.” Rayla snarled, eyes flashing with cold anger. “And now you’ll pay the price. Justice will not be denied.”

 She raised her blade, and Soren looked away, squeezing his eyes shut. But not before he saw that every fallen guard around him had Corvus’ face.

 “I’m sorry.” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

 Soren had stopped breathing. Why had he stopped breathing? 

 Corvus’ own breath quickened, as though to point out just how much Soren’s wasn’t. His voice climbed in pitch as he turned to the others, all of them already exchanging worried glances even before he told them.

 “Soren isn’t breathing.” he said, panicked. “What do we do? Does anybody know what to do?”

 Claudia was sobbing quietly, her hair falling in curtains around her face as she clung to her brother’s body. Corvus heard Rayla’s sharp intake of breath, another stab in the gut of what precisely Soren wasn’t doing. And Ezran buried his face in Callum’s shirt, shoulders shaking. His older brother’s stunned expression slowly gave way to horror.

 “Why isn’t anyone doing anything?” Corvus nearly shouted, clutching Soren’s hand so tightly that he worried he might hurt him. “We need to do something.”

 “There’s nothing we can do.” Claudia sniffled, rubbing the tears from her eyes. They just as quickly refilled. “There’s nothing we can do. No spell to fix this.”

 “Then we don’t use a spell.” Corvus said, placing a hand on Soren’s neck, feeling for a pulse. It was still there. Faint, but present. “I’m not giving up on him.”

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

 “Come on, Sorbear. Wake up.”

 Soren’s eyes snapped open, and the light above him flickering into life, illuminating a small swatch of the empty blackness that stretched all around him. He was back where it had all begun; the path of footprints stretching behind and before him. Claudia was leaning over him, her face still scarred with Dark Magic, but she didn’t seem angry anymore. She offered him a hand and he took it, letting her help him to his feet.

 “Why am I back here?” he asked her, surveying his surroundings. Rayla was nowhere to be seen. None of them were. It was just as blank and empty as the first time he’d set foot here.

 “Don’t worry about it.” 

 “Of course I’m worried about it.” Soren said, snapping a bit more than he’d meant to. He checked his tone back immediately. “Sorry.”

 “Hm, well. It’s okay I guess. I’ve decided to forgive you. Everybody makes mistakes. And anyway, it doesn’t matter. I fixed it. Come on, Dad is waiting for us.”

 Soren could have laughed, or he could have cried, he didn’t know which would have happened first. Maybe both. But he was too tired for either. 

 “Clauds-” he began, but she shook her head,  stamping her foot like she used to when she was little.

 “Stop it! I fixed everything. You’re okay now, and he’s okay too. That’s all that matters.” She took his hand in hers, gentler this time. “Now come on. He’s waiting for us.”

 Soren let her start leading him down the path, following in their father’s footsteps. At first it was kind of nice, listening to her talk about what they were going to do when they finally reached Dad. She said that they would all be together again; one big happy family the way they used to be. She said that she would make pancakes, and Dad had a surprise for them. She said he wanted to make up for lost time; that he was different now. That he’d changed. And Soren wanted to believe her, he really did. And when he’d seen his father in the dungeon, he had seemed different, even if believing that had felt dangerous.

 So he followed her, and he ignored the fact that she was leading him deeper and deeper into the darkness, and he didn’t think about the fact that the light around them was growing smaller, fainter. But after a while, he couldn’t ignore the fact that they weren’t alone anymore. 

 He didn’t know when the other person had started following them, and hadn't looked back to see who it was. Soren didn’t really want to know; it could have been anyone or anything. But whatever next torment this place had dreamed up, Soren figured the longer he could go without having to face it, the better.

 But now it was beside them, keeping pace with them just out of view in the darkness. He felt like he recognized the silhouette, the stride, the way the figure carried itself. But he couldn’t place where he’d seen it before. Not until it strayed a little too close to the light.

 Soren dropped Claudia’s hand, coming to a standstill. The figure kept on walking, going past them and continuing into the dark, and Soren watched himself march past. His blonde hair was streaked with white, his skin a chalky whitish gray, marred by violet scars. Whereas Soren usually wore a sword, the other him held a staff, one that was far too familiar.

 Soren closed his eyes and waited for the apparition to pass. 

 “Sorbear, what’s wrong?” Claudia asked him after a long moment of silence. 

 “You- you saw that, right?” he asked her, sure that if he opened his eyes it would still be there. Maybe it would be looking right at him with its pitch black eyes and twisted sneer, just like the one his father used to wear.

 “Soren, you’re not really scared of your own shadow, are you?”

 He opened his eyes at that. “That thing isn’t a shadow, Claudia.” 

 “Sure it is. Well, maybe more like you’re his shadow. And don’t call yourself a thing.”

 “That wasn’t me.” Soren said, putting extra emphasis on each word, as though that would make it true. “It wasn’t.”

 “I mean, not yet he’s not.” Claudia held out a hand to him, smile gentle. “Come on, Sorbear. Dad is waiting.”

 “No.” Soren flinched away from her, fists clenching at his sides. “I’m not going if that’s who I’ll be when I get there.”

 “Sor-en.” she complained, rolling her eyes. “Come on. It was always going to be this way. This is your destiny.”

 “No.” Soren said again, taking a step back from her. The light moved with him, leaving her half in shadow. “No. That’s not who I want to be.”

 “But it’s who you are.” Claudia insisted. When he still hesitated, her face scrunched up, tears filling her eyes. “Come on, Sorbear. Please. It’ll be okay, I’ll be there with you. We both will. Don’t leave me again.”

 “Come with me.” he begged, reaching out to her. But this time it was Claudia who took a step back, disappearing into the darkness.

 “I- I can’t.” she whispered, her voice seeming to come from all around him. “This is our destiny…"

 “It’s not my destiny.” he told the darkness, searching it desperately for his sister. “And it doesn’t have to be yours. Please, let me help you.”

 “I made my choice.” the darkness told him, and he knew without having to see it that she was gone.  Soren squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears away, and he turned to walk back the way he’d come; forging his own path through the endless black. We all have choices to make, he thought. This is mine.

[endwersed]

striking out, chapter one of six - a sterek college au

Theo is Derek's new teammate on the college baseball team. Theo is also Stiles' piece of shit boyfriend.

“What did Theo do to win you over?” Derek presses. “Grand gesture at the big football game?” “He stopped shoving me in lockers for a year and asked me out for curly fries.” Stiles shrugs a casual shoulder at the distressed look Derek shoots him. “I really like curly fries.” “Right,” Derek says slowly. “I’m – starting to think bully might have been the right word, actually.” “It’s not as after school special as it sounds,” Stiles assures him. “I was a huge nerd. A lot of the sports guys liked shoving me into lockers in middle school. He’s just the only one that got the hots for me once I started to grow my hair out.” “Very romantic,” Derek says drily. “I’m sure Hallmark will be reaching out for the story rights in no time.”

[giurochedadomani]

“Mmm— That’s nice”, Shanks whispers in Mihawk’s ear, encouraging as the swordsman finds a rhythm grinding against him. Hands slowly tracing his legs settle loosely around the other’s waist. He thinks about the duel, and about their knives, and wonders why not knowing how to do a thing is such an unmatched horror for the other. “How did it go down?”, he asks, adding a quiet “your little dream” when Mihawk frowns. 

The swordsman opens his mouth, and for a moment Shanks thinks that he’s going to actually share details— that he’s going to get him to dirty talk, the serious bastard— but then he huffs, hands freezing on Shanks’ shoulders. Well, then. 

It’s the thing with Mihawk, this whole— putting himself in a position that invites Shanks to step in, but never actually telling him when and how to do so, and then getting mad, as if Shanks is supposed to magically know. Not for the first time he wonders if it’s some sort of test, if the other wants to make sure that he’s a worthy companion, and although he usually likes the challenge, it’s the root cause more often than not of his headaches. 

Shanks kisses his cheek to avoid Mihawk noticing the bit of frustration growing on him, and then continues down the other’s neck, leisurely, focusing on a point over his collarbone that makes him hiss, and then whimper when Shanks starts sucking on it. Trying to picture Mihawk’s reaction if he does leave a hickey, automatically he makes a mental note to pay attention to which places would be best (more visible) to leave one, taking in account Mihawk’s open coat. 

Their encounter on the beach comes to his thoughts, and he licks his hand and sneaks it between them, giggling when Mihawk’s indignant squeak (that judgy look that says nasty) breaks into a moan when he wraps it around their cocks. 

“Shanks”, Mihawk warns, curving against him as he loses the remnants of his composure in the face of Shanks’ relentless attack. Little whines pull out of him against his will. With his face flush, eyes closed, as he grinds against Shanks’ grip on them, he’s the hottest sight the captain has ever laid his eyes upon. 

“Come on, sweetheart, tell me. You can tell me”, he insists, attacking as well the other side of Mihawk’s neck, his hands a vice grip around the other’s back. 

“Shanks”, the swordsman warns again, a bit more desperate. He wonders whether he’s about to make him come then and there, heart beating excitedly at the prospect. “I— Nnnn— You were— You used— your tongue on me”. 

Oh?

[maximura]

[sluttyhenley]

Phoenix isn’t even sure when she made the decision, but she knows it deep in her bones. She’s going to do this. It’s terrifying and it’s going to throw a terrible wrench in her career plans. It doesn’t make sense, but she wants this.

put a hold on my heart a rooster/phoenix story by @sluttyhenley