#tw attempt in suicide

[lolsonic-idk-man]

Talk to Me: part 3

I'VE FINALLY DONE IT! like a week ago

Part 1, Part 2, part 4, part 5, part 6

It has around 3650 words so definitely the shortest chapter. Anyway, I've made my sister cry and I have some trigger warnings :D

TW: Suicidal idealization, Attempted self-harm, panic attacks.

How was Nightmare meant to feel?

Dream was crying, wailing the following day, sometimes sobbing words of discouragement to himself.

Nightmare would normally relish the idea of hearing Dream suffer, but…

No. Maybe the horrible turning in his chest was because he hadn't gotten the chance to see Dream's suffering. Yes, that had to be it, he wanted the true satisfaction of seeing Dream's suffering, not just hearing it.

Sci would more likely than not have some cameras that would do, somewhere in his lab. He would be sending Dust to pick up at least ten, he has had quite enough of Sci for a month.

In the meanwhile he and the rest of his men would survey Dream's hiding place after he made his return to the Omega Timeline.

Nightmare knew that Dream's place was probably massive,(Why wouldn't Dream pamper himself? He's the oh-so-loved guardian of positivity.) It was going to take a time to properly comb his house.

The sooner the better he supposed.

A quick study of the tracker's precise location before it went offline was all Nightmare needed for a portal of swirling negativity to open in front of him.

" So this is where the banana comes to be alone huh? " Nightmare's right hand said as they entered the small apartment. " Would have thought he would choose somewhere nicer, ya know, being the Guardian and all. " 

Horror granted an affirmative to Killer's note.

The apartment had only one room and a tiny bathroom that sat right next to an even smaller closet with three sets of Dream's usual drapings hanging and black strapless jumpsuits folded on the ground. A twin-sized mattress lay on the ground opposite the closet. A counter, sink, mirror that could be opened, and cupboard sat on the same wall as the door, facing the end of the mattress. 

Frankly, the worst part had to be the smell of mold that had wrenched itself into everything. (How did Dream not reak of mold? HE'S SLEPT HERE.)

Was this what Dream had let himself fall into? Did he truly live in such squalor? He came here to cry? Pity himself? Hide.

Didn't matter. All this did was make Nightmare's life easier. He could ambush Dream here, watch to find more weaknesses of his.

See? Nightmare could work with this. It's not like he cared about Dream's well-being, and it's not like Dream cared for him, regardless of the lies he spewed during their battles.

He supposed the only problem with this was that there were very few places a camera could go without being noticed, if any at all. He could always hope that Sci would come in with a somehow perfect device for the situation.

Actually, who needs hope, it's Sci, he always has something.

On the topic of the coffee addict and cameras, he should probably get Dust before he agrees to be a test dummy for one of Sci's experiments.

A portal grew from the shadows as Nightmare instructed his boys, " Find somewhere to place video equipment, I will retrieve them and Dust. " He walked through the swirling negativity as he finished.

Fuck, he was too late.

Dust was seated in a cheap office with one of his arms strapped to a metal table by him as he scrolled through his phone with his other hand, with Sci ready to inject Dust's arm with some unknown subsistence.

Nightmare's tentacles were quick to yank the needle out of Sci's hands grabbing his attention, " What was that for!? "

" You were about to inject my subordinate with something, and for all I knew it could kill him. " Nightmare snarled

" Oh please like I'd give him something like that, " Sci rolled his eye-lights. " It's just enough amino amides to knock out his ulna and radius so that I can get a proper sample. "

" And what do you plan on doing with it? " Nightmare crossed his arms, his tentacles twitching like a cat's tail.

" Figure out the density of magic that makes up his body. "

" Why would you want to know this? "

" Don't know, " Sci shrugged. " Thought it'd be interesting. Maybe useful in a medical field of some sort. "

" How large would this sample be? "

The scientist turned his head back to Dust's arm and studied it for a moment. He placed his hand on its side like a knife at the start of Dust's forearm, turned back to Nightmare, and shrugged.

" No, you can't have Dust's forearm. " Was he going to have to scold Sci like a child?

" Why not? He agreed to it. "

" I am his guardian, and I will not be giving you my consent. " Nightmare growled.

" So you admit you see us like your kids? " Dust piped up, still scrolling through his phone.

" I never said such a thing. "

" You said you're our guardian. "

" That is my title, and with how I have to look after you all I may as well be. "

" So you admit being like a father figure? "

" Do not put words in my mouth Dust. "

" I'm telling the Horror and Killer. "

" You will not. "

" Too late. "

The Guardian of Negativity rubbed the rig of his nasal cavity and groaned, already done with the next week. " We’re setting up so get your duff off that chair and grab the supplies. "

Dust shrugged and waited for Sci to finish grumbling about how Nightmare couldn't understand as he removed the straps holding his arm down and handed him the box with all of the supplies.

With the cameras in hand, Nightmare pulled Dust through the still-open cut in reality back to Dream's run-down apartment. Nightmare would not adjust to seeing that this was the type of person he hated so.

" Have you figured out where to place them Killer? "

" Cours' Boss, " His right hand gestured to a corner of the mostly empty closet, and the now open cupboard that only had a cup and plate. " And we could tempt underneath the mattress, but I don't think any of us want to touch it. Don't know what's growing on that… Maybe Horror would! "

A firm slap to the back of his skull that made him wobble and a growl from Horror was the only thing he got from the statement.

" Well damn, okay, just a growl would have been fine, " He turned to Horror in fake annoyance. " Who am I kiddin', it was well deserved. BUT! Onto more pressing matters, " Killer turned to stare Nightmare down with his non-existent eye-lights. " You admitted to being the fatherly figure none of us had/remember having? "

" No. "

" HE DIDN'T STAB ME! WE HAVE A CONFIRMED FATHER FIGURE! "

Oh for fucks sake.

~~~~🌕~~~~

Luckily after his subordinate's celebration, the rest of the setup went without a hitch. The cameras were smaller than they had thought, making it easier to hide them, and considering how little space there was, it was quick.

Dream didn't return to his hole that day or the day after, he came back after the Bad Sanses next supply run.

" It's fine Dream, you're fine, he says it every time, nothing has changed, nothing has changed, nothing. Has. Changed. " Dream was leaning over the sink staring at his reflection. " And… it won't ever change… he'll always hate me. " Dream looked like he was slowly reaching a tipping point.

" Did he always hate me? Was I just that terrible of a brother? How many times have I asked myself that, far more than I should have that's for sure. " Tears flow from his eye sockets. " He may as well have done it out of spite. I wish I could tell myself how wrong I am, how he wouldn't have done it just because he hates me, b- but it's clear that I never knew him. " A smile that didn't match his quivering eye-lights tightened its thread.

" Why can't I let go? "

The dim glow of Dream's tears fell in silence, filling the sink's shitty plumbing.

What was the sting in Nightmare's chest? Why wouldn't it go away!?

Why did his anger only make it worse?

Dream ended up sleeping on the mold-ridden mattress that night and arose with dark bags that challenged Nightmare's corruption underneath his sockets.

He struggled to even sit up and used the wall to force himself to stand so that he could wobble his mostly asleep legs to the mirror and open it.

Inside were a few bottles and pellets of white creams or compacted dust, Dreamed reached for one of them without thinking and applied it underneath his eye sockets in an attempt to hide the bags that had formed.

Once finished he placed it back, closed the mirror, and looked himself in the socket.

Why were Dream's eye-lights so dim? So dull. He looked so tired like he had pulled three all-nighters and run a marathon every day. Where was the blinding light that Nightmare was forced to adjust to so that he could fight him?

Dream let out a shaky breath after a few moments and attempted to sew on a smile, only for the stitching to be wired. " Come on Dream, you've been doing this for the past… all, your life… " His eye-lights dimmed as he sank into thought.

" NO! No, no. New idea, I stop thinking and get back to smiling, go to the Omega Timeline, and act like I never came here! " A strained smile forced its way to Dream's face. " yeah… I never went through that… "

Dream stayed quiet, still trying to make his smile seem natural and forcing his eye-lights to be brighter before opening the bathroom door and walking into a world that was not there before.

Well now Nightmare knew how people got into the Omega Timeline, but it probably wasn't that simple.

Anger swirled in Nightmare. At whom? He didn't know. But it didn't matter his frustration would just be let loose whenever he deemed the positive side of the spectrum grows too large.

To which it did.

Dream had barely gotten the word " brother " out of his teeth and Nightmare lashed out. His tentacles were lanced with the intent to kill and his words to scar.

And it seems that his words succeeded. The Guardian of Positivity entered his tattered apartment a little more than an hour later and immediately fell to the ground, pulling his legs to his chest and burying his skull in them. His breathing started to quicken and become strained as he started to choke on his sobs.

" I'm a moron. I'm stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! " Dream started to murmur into his arms that curled around him. " I'm a selfish prick! I'm useless! So useless and so fucking dumb! I'm an asshole! He said so many times before! He's not my brother! He's not my brother, he's not my brother, not my brother, not my brother, not my brother, he's not, he's not, HE'S NOT! " A few ragged breaths, " I lost him a long time ago, I lost the right to call him my brother when I ran away like the useless selfish asshole I am. I just stood there, I just watched, I JUST FUCKING WATCHED. I ran away, I ran away from him, I ran away from everything instead of facing it like I'm supposed to. I let them hurt him when I was supposed to protect him because I'm useless, useless, useless useless useless! And I had the guts to cry about being overworked! I didn't work enough! The villagers were angry because I couldn't do enough! It's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault, my fault, my fault… "

He continued the loop for a few more minutes, slowing down till the only sound left in the room was the once-a-while hick in his breath as he slowly went limp, falling into sleep in the same spot on the floor that he started.

The black apple in Nightmare's chest stung. It wanted to go to its twin and comfort it, but it also wanted to hide. Run away from the pain that he caused.

But he didn't know why.

Normally his soul would sing to the idea of anyone's misery and especially loud at the idea of his brother's. After all, Dream neglected them for the villagers.

But Dream blamed everything on himself. Nightmare didn't even blame Dream that much. He couldn't blame Dream for the villagers' actions. They were not his.

In the past, he wanted to and did. The only reason he didn't now, was because his boys had questioned why he blamed Dream for what the villagers had done. (They also jammed the fact that Nightmare was much younger at the time and was no longer allowed to call his past form weak. BUT IT WAS!)

He admitted that he was a terrible sibling at least. He wasn't. So far that was one of the only good things to come from this venture, and with how it was going there was no point in having his boys waste their time watching this with him. He didn't want them to see his weakness.

Dream came back multiple times while Nightmare planned the next attack. Nothing new was said in his brother's latest cries for peace, the same guilty pleas as before. The only thing that was new were the stings of guilt from his soul and how they got worse every time he saw Dream's dim eye-lights.

His men had also grown worried for him as he locked himself in a room to watch and listen to his brother, but today was the first time any of them said anything.

" … Nightmare? " Horror was the first one to say anything.

" Is there something you need, boys? " The Guardian of Negativity looked up from his latest draft of a deal that should get them some new chemicals for Dust to play with and sell to Sci.

Killer, Dust, and Horror stood in the opened door of his office, each with varying levels of concern. " Not much, " his right hand continued. " Just wondering if you're okay, ya know, considering the Dream situation. "

Nightmare sighed knowing fully well that was what the question was going to be. " I am fine, just struggling to figure out what to do with the information we have. "

" Yeah, figuring out that you still care for someone is hard lol. "

" What did you say, Killer? " Nightmare's eye-light stared him down.

The sadist looked over to his coworkers, " See told you he hadn't figured it out! "

" Killer, what is the meaning of this? "

Killer chuckled a little, " Come on Boss, no one looks at someone who they say they hate having a panic attack so uncomfortable unless they cared to some extent~ "

" Out. "

A kackle, " Mmmkay, see ya Boss. "

That was a concept that Nightmare did not like. He had spent centuries with a hatred of Dream. How in all of the world could he care for him?

The statement that he hated oh so ended up being what he couldn't stop thinking about. Even during his latest battle with Dream. He was silent. Dream made a few attempts to talk to him, not once calling him brother, why did that hurt? All failed.

In all honesty, Nightmare was barely paying any mind to the fight, it was still in debate. And it seemed that his turmoil only stirred Dream's own.

" He didn't say anything… " Dream stood stunned and confused, to say the least. " Is that good? N-no, it can't be good, he was so angry last time. Is he planning something big? " He let out a singular huff of air. " Of course, he is, he always has something ready. But why was he so quiet? Was he trying to shut me up? That wouldn't be shocking, I doubt he's ever enjoyed listening to me blabber about things, even then. So what!? " Dream rubbed his face. " Am I just not worth talking to… Of course, I'm not worth talking to. When have I ever been? " He groaned, walked to his bed, and sat in the corner with his head hidden in his legs as he continued to question Nightmare's intentions.

Why? Why does it hurt Nightmare so? Why does Dream thinking he is only capable of causing pain, hurt his soul? Why in the name of Toby Fox would he care what Dream thought about him? Why would he care at all!?

Why does he want to hate the one being that has done nothing wrong to him? Why did he hurt Dream? Why did attempt to injure his brother? 

Why did Dream still care for him? Nightmare had done nothing but torture him since he had been freed of his stone prison. What was wrong with Dream!? Maybe something was wrong with Nightmare?

Dream definitely had something wrong with him, (Didn't everyone in this multiverse?) He returned to the small apartment a few days later with a small purple cupcake with a candle. He placed it on the tiny counter and opened the middle drawer, hesitating before reaching in, grabbing a lighter, and placing it by the cupcake with his hand still around it.

He stared the dessert down, letting out a sigh as his eyebrow creased. " It's gonna be seven years tomorrow. Well, I guess 507 years. It doesn't feel like that though. It doesn't even feel like one… " Letting go of the lighter Dream makes his way to his bed and sits in the corner. " I should be 19 tomorrow, not 507. "

How did Nightmare forget such a thing? The following day was the day Nightmare gained his freedom, the day the villagers regretted their actions, the day Dream was trapped in stone, the day Dream was freed from stone, and the day they were created.

" What are you going to do tomorrow? What big event is going to push the balance to its limit this time? "

Silence.

" Why am I even doing this? Why would you want me to celebrate your birthday? " 

Something shattered.

Dream's skull wiped to the source of the sound, the bathroom. Removing himself from his mold-ridden mattress and into the room of origin.

Glass was scattered across the room, when Dream opened the door – Yes, Nightmare had the decency to let his brother have the privacy of the bathroom. – A rock sat in the walk-in shower. Dream looked up at the small foggy window above the shower head that was now forever open.

" O-oh… " Dream's skull dropped. " Well, I guess that answers that… "

He sighs, " Why am I still doing this? Why am I doing any of this!? Why am I still fighting Nightmare!? Why am I trying to make sure the multiverse stays balanced when I couldn't even take care of a single village!? Or Protect my brother! I was the worst choice for this fucking job, also I never asked for it universe! " 

Dream grabbed his golden cerite off his head and threw it across the room hitting the mirror, making glass spray all around the small apartment. " I never wanted to be your damned Guardian of Positivity! I just wanted to sit under a damn tree and listen to my brother! " Tears prick out of the corners of his eye-sockets as he screamed angrily at the multiverse. " Why can't I have that!? My entire life has been centered around making everyone else happy! But I can't be?

" I could've been a normal person! Nightmare could've been normal! No one would've hurt him, neither of us would have been so stressed, we could have just been happy!

" I could just stop, what would you think of that universe!? Mmmm? Mmmm? What would you do then? What would you do if I stopped working!? Mmmmm!? " A few heavy breaths. " I could… I could stop… I could just quit. " A crooked smile crawled onto Dream's face. " The multiverse would be thrown into chaos, but who cares? I could be selfish for once! Would it be that selfish though? The multiverse would probably be better off if someone else took the responsibility, and Nightmare would like that! He wouldn't have to put up with me anymore! And I won't have to do anything anymore! "

Dream rushed to the counter where he left the cupcake and opened the same drow that he got the lighter from, but this time pulling out a box cutter.

Was he?

His brother pulled out his soul, staring down at it wordlessly as he held the box cutter.

The once soft golden glow his soul held was gone, in the apple's stead was a brown rotting mush of what should be.

Had Nightmare pushed Dream to this?

He did, didn't he? Nightmare had done nothing but torture, someone who had tried their best for everyone, had their childhood stripped away from them, had a larger responsibility than anyone should bear thrown at them when they were young, and his brother.

Dream had done nothing but try to understand, try to fix whatever the problem was, and Nightmare only pushed him away and blamed him for feeling scared of his abusers.

A sound pulled Nightmare from his realization. 

" No…  " Dream pushed his rotting soul back into his ribs. " I can wait till tomorrow. That way it's a birthday present for both of us, I can be free and he can do it himself. Like he's always wanted. It should be easy enough, I can slow down a bit. Maybe I'll trip. I've been fairly tired lately after all. "

Nightmare's original plan for their birthday was to attack the Omega Timeline, hence why he was trying to find a way in. Now though it was definitely too late to attempt that and Nightmare had lost the will to after all he'd seen.

But he was going to have to do something, or Dream would probably kill himself.

[mooseymi]

"All you wanted was to make the hurt go away," is just the standards and practices friendly way of saying he was suicidal. "Some things are better left unsaid," is just the standards and practices friendly way of saying he committed (assissted?) suicide.

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

hey you know what would be like. the WORST possible thing? if no time had passed for mortals during God Games. if the entire time, Odysseus had just been frozen on that ledge. and at the start of the Vengeance Saga, Ody's still on the ledge. he looks to the skies, to the trees, out over the ocean. he looks for an owl with knowing eyes and strains to hear her voice over the waves, because surely, surely she'd come for him. the haven't spoken in nine years and he ruined whatever relationship they had when he stupidly, foolishly let the cyclops live, but she has to still care, right? she was his mentor. she was his patron. he meant something to her. he's sure of it

but she's not there. he waits, but she's not there. he closes his eyes, sparing himself the view, and steps off the ledge

and is saved by Hermes. and Odysseus briefly thinks that he has died, since Hermes escorts souls to the underworld. but Hermes assures him that, no, he's alive, Athena heard him, she bargained with Zeus, he can go home now. he can finally go home

his friend came through

[businessboybrick]

Without spoiling anything, PLEASE be advised that the first three episodes have A LOT of suicide shit in them. Like not just ideation, full on behavior and attempts shown on screen. Huge warning if you have any kind of trigger for suicide

[mythtakens]

9-1-1 + a thesis on love

[second-star-to-motunui]

It’s Going To Be Ok

✨feat. Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia✨

Summary: They found you trying to hurt yourself and stopped you. Now they’re doing their best to remind you that you aren’t alone.

reader is referred to as Yuu (they/them)

tw// self harm, eating disorders, suicide attempts

note: life hasn’t been easy lately. most of what’s written is based on personal experiences. I wrote this to comfort myself, and I hope it can bring you comfort too.

“Yuu? Are you crying? What happened—hey, hey stop that, stop doing that!”

Riddle stopped Yuu from scratching, their arms red and bleeding from their nails. He rushed them to the infirmary and it was there that they broke down and spilled everything.

Riddle didn’t know what to say in the moment, but he hugged Yuu and let them cry into his shoulder. He apologized for all the horrible things they were dealing with and swore to them that they could come to him if they needed.

He makes it a part of his routine to check on Yuu after that and provide anything they need, from assistance with studying to even just a hug.

“How has your day been? Good? I see… I bought these gloves for you. Anytime you feel like scratching just put them on, then you can’t hurt yourself. Please come to me if you feel like hurting yourself again. We can have tea and talk instead.”

“The hell? What the hell are you doing?! PUT THAT DOWN!”

Leona had come to the botanical garden for an afternoon nap when he smelled blood. He found Yuu hiding behind a tree with a switchblade. They had scars on their arms and they were about to slit their wrist before Leona caught them.

Yuu dropped the blade and burst into tears. Leona took them to his dorm room and took care of them. He was scolding them for doing something so dangerous, but it was clear that he cared and was genuinely concerned for them.

If he wasn’t already around Yuu often, he’s glued to their hip now. He’ll eat lunch with them, nap around them and wait for them outside of their classroom so he can walk with them.

“Look at me. Look at me. You are not worthless, ok? Whoever put that idea in your head, ignore them. And if there’s somebody bothering you, you better tell me and I’ll deal with it, ok? I’m here for you.”

“Yuu, I’ve been looking for… Are you alright? You’re not fine, you’re barely standing! YUU!”

Azul caught Yuu before they could collapse. He asked when they had eaten last only to learn that Yuu had been deliberately starving themself from stress.

Azul gently escorted them to Monstro Lounge to get them something to eat. He was reminded of his own struggles with eating when he was young, and he couldn’t bear to see it on Yuu now.

He sends messages to Yuu throughout the day to remind them to take care of themself. Jade and Floyd keep a close eye on Yuu too. If they get even a whiff that Yuu is falling into bad habits, then it’s off to Octavinelle for lunch.

“Angelfish, may I speak with you? Listen… I know what it’s like to hate who you see in the mirror, but trust me when I say that hurting yourself won’t make it better. If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you. We can even do it over lunch if that helps.”

“Why are you crying? Was it something I said? Wait, wait, please don’t do that, please stop! I can fix this!”

Kalim doesn’t understand why, but one second he was talking to Yuu and the next they had burst into tears and started hitting themself in the head.

He stopped Yuu and hugged them tight, offering to do something fun to cheer them up. He tried dancing with them, playing a game, but nothing seemed to help. Jamil ended up having to step in.

In the end, (after a difficult conversation with Jamil) Kalim learned that the best thing he could do was let Yuu feel their feelings rather than ignore them with positivity. He doesn’t like seeing Yuu cry, but he’s more than happy to hold their hand through it.

“Hey so… Jamil said there’s something wrong in your brain that makes you sad all the time? No, no, not wrong! Uh… different? … A disorder? I see… well, if you want to talk about it I’m here to listen. Just… please don’t hit yourself like that again ok? Hit me instead! No? If you change your mind you can do it, I can take it!”

“What do you have there? Don’t try to hide it, give it here! Are you an idiot?! Don’t you realize what this is?!”

When Vil snatched the potion bottle from Yuu’s hand, he really hoped they genuinely didn’t know they were about to drink a deadly poison. Yuu began to cry and Vil’s heart broke because he realized they knew exactly what they were doing.

Vil has a long talk with Yuu about their troubles. They hated their hair, they hated their body, they hated themself. Vil takes their hands and swears to them that he’ll do whatever he can to help them. But first he has to know where they got the poison so he can assure they’ll never get their hands on another one.

Self care days become a weekly event. Light exercises, home spa days, clothes shopping, Vil will even allow himself a cheat day for desserts if it means bringing Yuu comfort.

“Oh no, have you been pulling your hair out again? It’s ok, no tears, let me see… Ah, it’s not as bad as it was last time. Don’t apologize, darling. Hair grows back. Come, let’s see how we can take care of it now and you can tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Yuu? Are you here I brought… Yuu? Oh no—hey! Wake up! Wake up! Ortho, I need help!”

Idia found Yuu unconscious on their bedroom floor, having swallowed half a bottle of pills. Together, him and Ortho get Yuu to a hospital and don’t leave their side until they awake.

Idia beats himself up so much after that because he knew Yuu was in a bad place mentally, he just never thought they’d do something so drastic. He wraps them in the biggest hug when they wake up, sobbing and apologizing and promising to be a better friend.

Yuu spends a few weeks in Ignihyde once they’re discharged from the hospital. Idia doesn’t say much, but he does watch their favorite shows and plays their favorite games with them.

“… You’re moving back to your dorm today, right? Ok… um—t-this is for you! It’s a new phone, I know the one Crowley got you sucks ass. Just… call me if something happens again. Or Ortho! We’ll be there for you ok? W-We care about you…”

“The view from here is lovely, isn’t it? You should watch your step, the fall would be quiet devastating.”

Malleus appeared at Yuu’s side before they could take another step towards the cliffs edge, holding their shoulder firmly and keeping them in place.

He talks about meaningless things for a little while before he gently holds Yuu’s hand and invites them to join him on a walk and get some ice cream. They leave together, right after Yuu has short cry in Malleus’s arms.

Malleus drops by Ramshackle every single day after that. Sometimes it’s for ice cream dates, sometimes it’s to invite them to Gargoyle Studies Club activities. Often he’ll just be there while Yuu does whatever. Yuu doesn’t know it, but Malleus waits until he knows they’re safely in bed at the end of each day before he leaves them.

“Thank you for spending time with me today. I do enjoy your company… I know human lives are rather short compared to that of a fae’s, but please don’t try to shorten it. You aren’t a burden. You’re wonderful. I’ll remind you that you’re wonderful every day if I have to. You’re very precious to me.”

[losthavenmine]

Clown (2014)

[mooshkat]

i haven't watched the episode. don't really care to. but apparently eddie is looking at houses in el paso?? and i've always related way too much to buck and the way people in his life leave so much so.

listening to 'please don't go' by abbey glover while writing this is devastating btw. highly recommend to add to the hurt.

tw for suicide attempt. now on ao3.

Buck drops Eddie off at the airport and then just...doesn't go home. He doesn't think as he drives, taking turns and just alert enough to be safe on the road, but honestly? He has no fucking idea how he ends up in the mountains, parking in the small dirt lot at the end of the hiking trail.

Everything feels numb. Static fills his brain and spreads down his neck, all the way to the tips of his fingers.

He turns off the Jeep and takes out the keys. Drops them carelessly into the cup holder.

He should've seen this coming, right? People leave; they always have, and always will. Everyone from his own sister to his ex-girlfriends, and his ex-boyfriend. Now his best friend.

There's just something buried deep into his very being, something built into the coding for Evan Buckley, that makes people leave him. No matter how much he clings and wants to fight for it, they'll walk away from him and his love.

It's him, it has to be.

Buck leaves behind his wallet, his keys, his work bag. Everything is left in the Jeep except for his phone, because no matter how much people leave him with barely a goodbye, it goes against everything that makes Buck, well, Buck to do it himself.

He knows this trail. Tommy and he have been on it before, once or twice after Buck dragged him along with him. They'd stopped at the top, where a small cliff overlooks the beautiful scenery with LA off in the far distance.

He remembers the way Tommy pushed him against a tree and sank to his knees, looking up at Buck with an adorable, bright grin with scrunches up his nose. Buck misses that grin fiercely.

The sun is just beginning to rise as Buck starts his walk. He doesn't go up the mountain with a specific plan in mind, didn't wake up to take Eddie to the airport at four in the morning, and think I'm going to kill myself today, but the higher he gets on the trail, the more he knows.

It's early enough that he has the trail to himself. That's good. It's not, he needs to turn around and go back to the Jeep, go home but his feet keep moving him up, up, up. There's nobody around who will have to see what he's about to do and be traumatized by it.

He's seen more than his share of deaths through work, he knows how badly it can fuck you up. He doesn't want to do that to someone else.

When he gets to the top, Buck stops and just breathes. The air is fresher up here, cleaner. It makes some of the buzzing in his head quiet down. He can feel his fingers again, feel the way his heart pounds from the cardio workout of climbing, and make his hands throb.

He walks to the edge of the cliff and sits down, his feet dangling over the edge. There's a boulder a few feet away from the edge that holds memories of him leaning back against it as Tommy kisses him, holding Buck's hips with hands hot enough to brand him.

His very soul feels branded by Tommy. His chest aches every day, making his stomach sink with a homesick feeling he hasn't had since before he moved to LA. His apartment is still full of the baked goods that he creates every time he has to try to not call or text him.

He doesn't stop himself from calling him today.

Buck almost thinks it's going to go to voicemail before it's picked up at the last second.

"...Go for Kinard?" Tommy answers, clearing his throat. His voice is sleep-rough and deep, and Buck hasn't heard it in so long that it's like applying balm to very shattered, torn edges of a wound. "Hello? Who is–Ev—Buck?"

"Did I ever tell you," Buck starts, and he sounds just as rough, but he's more awake than he ever has been, despite the bone deep tiredness that fills him, "about the fact that I was made to be a savior baby for a brother I never met? My parents made me in a science tube so that they could use my bone marrow to heal my brother, Daniel, but it didn't work. I thought for a little while after I found out that it was because I was defective, but I get it now."

Sheets rustle on the other line before Tommy sits up again. "What are you talking about, Evan? What's wrong?"

Buck continues talking, bowling over Tommy's questions like he didn't hear them. "I think there's something inside of me that's toxic. Toxins drive people away, it makes them sick, it's the only thing I can think of that makes sense for why everybody I love gets sick of me and leaves. It has to be me, right? Nobody stays, not forever. There's something wrong with me and I've finally figured it out."

"No, Evan," Tommy says, voice soft. He can hear the concern, though, the urgency hidden under his tone. There's the sound of jingling keys and a door opening and closing. Tommy's too far away to stop him.

"Sometimes, people leave. It's just what they do, it is nothing about you or what you've done. It's them. Their problems. My problems, that we should–we should sit down and talk about. Evan, where are you? I'm worried."

He almost doesn't want to tell him, but maybe it'd be better for someone to come out and collect his body so he doesn't ruin the trail. Leave it as you found it, or whatever. He gives Tommy his location and ignores the way it starts a mental countdown in the back of his mind. He doesn't have long now.

"It is me, Tommy. I want to believe you, but I can't. Not when hard evidence for almost my entire fucking life says otherwise. My parents emotionally left before I was even born. Maddie. Abby. Other girlfriends. I even lost the 118 at one point–thanks to that stupid mistake with the lawyer. Everybody leaves. And–and now with you, and Eddie. I'm tired, Tommy. I'm so goddamn tired."

Tears drip down Buck's cheeks. It's exhausting, viewing every relationship as a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, waiting for them to exit left out of his life. He thought things might be different with Tommy, it was one of his longest relationships, but he was wrong.

"You know, when you broke up with me that night, you said you'd be my first, but not my last. You were wrong. I-I love you so much, Tommy, even though you broke my heart. I hate you for leaving just like everyone else, but I also love you. You'll always be my first and last now. It's my turn to leave."

"Evan!" Tommy shouts into the phone and Buck cringes. "Evan, please, don't do anything. I'm on my way, okay, baby? Please just sit still and wait for me and we can talk–about everything. Please."

It'd be so easy to lean forward and let gravity do the work to drag him off the edge. The side of the cliff digs into the bottom of his thighs and he kicks his feet, knocking against some of the dirt and watching it tumble down.

His phone starts buzzing insistently in his hand with texts. Tommy must have sent out a message. He doesn't look at any of them as he pulls his phone to set it on Do Not Disturb before putting it to his ear again.

He doesn't know what to do. He wants the hurt to stop, he just wants it all to stop, but he's afraid. What if he's too weak to commit? Just like he's too weak to not let people back into his life, even if he knows they'll just leave again.

Weak and toxic.

He drops his phone onto his lap and hunches down, elbows pressing into his knees as he covers his face. He can hear sirens in the distance getting closer.

A strangled sob rips its way from his throat and he makes his decision.

"Okay. I'll wait for you."

There's an audible sigh of relief from Tommy. "Thank you, Evan. I'll be right there, okay? Keep talking to me, baby."

He doesn't know what to say anymore and tells Tommy as much.

"That's okay, Evan. I-I heard from Howie that you were baking lately? What have you been baking?"

Buck knows what's Tommy's doing. He's stalling so that Buck doesn't kill himself before Tommy and the first responders can get to him. He's done it dozens of times before to people on the edge while he's rescuing them.

"A lot of bread, really. Pumpkin bread, banana bread, butternut squash. I even, uh, have a sourdough starter that I've been feeding for a couple of weeks now. I named it Billy because it looks sometimes just like the, uh, boils I got from the curse when it expands."

Tommy lets out a watery laugh. "Of course, you'd name your sourdough starter." He clears his throat and the sirens are suddenly much louder in Buck's ears before they cut off abruptly. Quiet, rushed talking that Buck doesn't understand before Tommy starts running. "What else?"

"I made baked Alaska pretty soon after we broke up. It took me hours to make, and the entire time it was setting in the freezer, I had to bake other things to stop myself from calling you. I-I don't know if Chim told you that's why I started baking, but it is."

When Tommy responds, it's not through the phone. He comes to a stop beside him. "It sounds like your coping mechanism was more productive than mine, at least. Want to get away from the edge for me, Evan?"

He holds out his hand and Buck takes it with a shaky laugh. "Oh, yeah? What was yours?" The knowledge that Tommy was moping just as bad as Buck makes him feel...something.

"Eating entire pints of ice cream by myself on the couch while watching rom-coms." Tommy pulls Buck to his feet and wraps his arms tight around him. Buck can feel how badly Tommy is shaking. "Thank god you're okay. Thank you so much for calling me, Evan. Fuck."

Buck hugs him back and ignores the paramedics lingering behind him. He knows he's going to be taken away in the ambulance and put under a 72-hour hold because of this. He doesn't think about that, or what it means for his job when he's let out.

He focuses on Tommy and the way he clings to him. He came back. Sure, maybe he'll leave again when the initial scare of everything fades away, but it's more than most people have done in the past.

Tommy pulls away first and holds Buck's face gently in his hands. There are tear tracks on his cheeks and more spill over as he looks Buck over. "I love you too. I didn't say it earlier and didn't say it then, but I am now. I love you so much, Evan Buckley.

It doesn't fix everything, doesn't even scratch the surface, but it raises something dangerous in Buck's chest.

Hope.

[tradgedyinwaves]

part two (final) of this

Tw: coma, attempted suicide, successful suicide, death

The first few moments after you were hit were a blur to Kate. She heard the crunch and your scream, her own voice screaming into the mic of her phone as she called out to you.

Quickly, her rational brain took over and she ended the call with you, quickly calling emergency services. 

It took them 10 minutes to arrive, 25 to get you out, and 10 to the hospital. You were placed into a medically induced coma so that the swelling in your brain could go down and give your body a chance to possibly heal. 

Kate’s next call was to John.

“ ‘Ello?”  “St. John’s. Get your squad and get there” 

Click.

Kate kept her words to herself for the time being, bag already slung over her shoulder and out the door by the time her short conversation with John was over.

On the other end of the line, John sat still for all of 15 seconds as he processed Kate’s words. Shooting texts to each of the other members of the squad, he grabbed his coat and was out the door. 

The team arrived shortly after Kate, who was pacing in the waiting room. The doctor had already been out to speak with her and it hadn’t been good news. 

“What’s going on?” “What happened?” “Who got hurt?” “Are they dead?”

Kate stood and stared at the four men in front of her. She only knew from what you’d said that John and Soap were involved and she could see it from the way they stood close to each other. Stepping forward, she reached up and slapped John across the face before doing the same to Soap, tears staining her cheeks. The way the other two men stared, they had no clue about John’s infidelity.

“If she wakes up, I hope she kills you, John.” 

“If?”

“Who?” 

Kate turned to the other men and sighed, wiping her eyes as she whispered your name. “If, Kyle. Her brain is swelling too much. They’ve put her in a medically induced coma while they try to save her ability to walk.” Kate shot the Johns another glare, vowing to kill them for you if you couldn’t do it. 

Her announcement was followed with silence as the four men took seats in the waiting room. Kyle and Simon stayed close to Kate while Price and Soap sat off in the corner. They knew it was their fault. You wouldn’t have been on that road if you hadn’t seen them. 

Hours later and the doctor came back out. He approached Kate immediately, seeing as she was the first one there. The others gathered around to hear. 

“-lost a lot of blood, but we’re hoping that with the rest, her brain will stop swelling and her spine may heal enough that she could walk. But for now, she’s stable.” 

It had broken the team apart. Kyle and Simon were transferred to another team at their request. Soap was sent off to help other teams all the time in an effort to keep Price and him separated. Which only left the Captain. Except, the title was hollow. He didn’t have a team to lead anymore. 

Kate didn’t speak to him anymore either. So when he found out you’d woken up, it wasn’t for a couple weeks after the fact. When he did find the courage to visit you in the hospital, he was told you were no longer there. 

He called Kate, or Laswell as he was only allowed to refer to by her last name now, to ask where you were. 

“Not that you deserve to know, but she’s in the psych ward now. Tried to take her own life.”  “I-” “Don’t bother, Price. This is your fault.” 

A click on the phone and the call ended. He stared down at the device before throwing it and shattering it. He was weak and in that weakness, he’d ruined everything good he’d had and most importantly, your life. 

After a two month stint in the psych ward, you were cleared to go home. Which meant Kate set you up in a spare bedroom in her house. You’d been cleared, so she wasn’t worried that you’d try again. 

But boy, had she been wrong. A month later, you’d locked the door and broken the window, taking a piece of the glass and stabbing it into your legs that you could no longer feel. By the time they got the door open, it was too late. You’d lost too much blood, but you were finally free. 

When Price tried again a few months later, he was informed of your death. 

Seven months in a coma and you woke up to be told you were paralyzed from the waist down. Told you’d never walk on your own again. 

In another two, you would try to take your own life. 

Another three and you would succeed. 

In just a year, the world was left without your sunshine. 

John Price and John MacTavish never forgave themselves, living lives of solitude until the day they died.

Spoiled the hell out of you guys today. 2600 words that includes an alternate ending? Damn. lol

[sad-leon]

TW Suicide Attempt

we all talk about him portal chopping an arm off but,,, it would be so easy. so quick

KoFi || Patreon

[krystaljungs]

DEAD FRIEND FOREVER เพื่อน ตาย (2023-24) episode 7 dir. Ma-Deaw Chookiat Sakveerakul, Chantana Tiprachart

[ossiethegreat]

kimya dawson and color spectrum duo … grrr….

@howlsofbloodhounds

Color belongs to superyoumna

Killer belongs to rahafwabas

Song - Anthrax by Kimya Dawson

there’s so much fanart of killer sinking in water or something and honestly it’s kinda funny

[tommykinard6]

TW: past suicide (not main character), past attempted suicide, suicidal ideation, mental health crisis.

The water was dark and choppy below his feet, dangling over the river from where Eddie sat on the bridge.

It was one of those bridges with a good footpath, but tended to be deserted at night so a car only passed Eddie every once in a while. None slowed, not seeing his shadowy figure leaning against one of the pillars. His car was pulled onto the shoulder just off of the bridge and he’d been there just long enough to wish he’d brought a jacket, but not long enough to convince himself to leave.

What was he going home to? An empty house? To a life that no longer felt worth-

No. He shook his head to disperse the thoughts, but he didn’t get up, kicking his feet as he looked at the water far beneath him.

He barely heard the footsteps before someone sat beside him. He turned, ready to say any excuse or to run in case the person was weird, but any words he had died on his tongue when he saw Tommy Kinard sitting beside him. The older man was watching him with a carefully blank face, but his eyes were worried.

Eddie waited for the other man to speak first and an awkward amount of time passed before he realized it was on him. “What are you doing here?”

He then kicked himself. He could’ve struck up a friendly conversation, said anything else to get that worried look out of Tommy’s eyes, but he didn’t and the look only grew deeper.

“Passing by, saw your car. Could ask you the same thing, Eddie. Perilous place to stargaze.”

“I’m fine.” And maybe it was something in his tone or maybe Tommy was never going to be fooled anyway, but his answer only made the worry lines in his friend’s face deeper. “Really. I’m just clearing my thoughts.”

Tommy hummed and looked down at the choppy water below just as a gust of wind washed over them. Eddie shivered. “There’s a nice park across the bridge. That’s a pretty good place to think. Been there a few times myself. Less dangerous than here. Less cold.”

“It’s not too bad.” Eddie was, in fact, freezing, but he could barely feel it. He felt a flicker of irritation that Tommy was still there. He just wanted to be left alone. “Seriously man, I’m good. You on your way to Buck’s?”

Tommy hummed an affirmation. “Yeah, but I’m in no rush. Might sit here for a minute, if you don’t mind. Pay my respects.”

Eddie couldn’t help the curiosity, even over the growing irritation that he tried not to examine too closely. “Your respects?”

“Mhm. Lost someone here about seven years ago.”

“A call?”

“Nah. Someone more personal.”

“I’m sorry.” The irritation died down as he took in Tommy’s distant look.

“He was a bastard, but he deserved better.” Tommy turned to look at Eddie and the younger man felt a little too seen under sharp blue eyes. “Wouldn’t think it, but it’s not an uncommon place to pitch yourself off of. We attended more than a few calls here, back when I was at the 118.”

The irritation flickered back to life and Eddie swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Yeah. We got a call like that last week.”

“Did they survive?”

“No. DOA.”

Tommy hummed softly. “Sorry, man. Those are rough.” He nudged Eddie’s shoulder. “Probably should head back, man. You don’t want to fall in.”

“Seriously, I’m good, man. Thanks. I’m just going to hang out here.”

To his annoyance, Tommy didn’t move. Eddie stared out over the water, shoulders tense as he waited for the other man to either leave or say something. He finally did, voice tentative as he asked, “You doing ok, Eds?”

The irritation snapped into something bigger. “I’d do a lot better alone, Tommy. No offense man, but I really don’t want company right now.” He dared to look over at the pilot and the man’s blank face made him snap, “Seriously, man, you’re acting like I’m going to throw myself off!”

“I did.”

It took a moment to register in Eddie’s brain, but when it did, the irritation flickered out like an extinguished candle. “What?”

“Rather, I tried.” Tommy’s face was stony and he wasn’t looking at Eddie, eyes turned towards the water. “The guy I lost here seven years ago was me, Eddie. Or rather, the man I used to be. And I tried to throw the rest of me in with him. This very spot. It’s the deepest. I jumped from where you’re sitting now.”

Eddie was lost for words, jolted out of his own head for the first time in a while. “But you’re alive.”

“I never hit the water.” Tommy looked down, fiddling with his hoodie string. “Someone caught me as I stepped off, dragged me back onto the bridge no matter how much I screamed for him to let me go.”

Eddie tried to wrap his brain around it, the little pieces of a picture he had no idea existed with the man sitting next to him. “Why?” His voice sounded wrecked.

“I thought my life was over. I thought everything I’d worked for, everything that I’d fought for, was gone. I’d faked being someone I wasn’t until I was and that person was someone I despised but I thought I was protecting myself until that night. I thought I’d given up everything and it was all for nothing. I was going to be ostracized from the only family I had. So I came here to end it all.”

His voice was matter of fact, but quivered slightly towards the end. Eddie floundered for a moment, feeling like he’d been pushed off of the bridge into the cold waters below. “But you were saved?”

“By the person I thought was going to end my life. By one of the people I thought I was dying to avoid. He’d followed me here, knew what I was going to do. He…” Tommy paused, swallowing harshly. “He hated who I was. He wanted me to hide who I was. But he didn’t want me dead. So he pulled me off of this bridge and took me home and didn’t allow me out of his sight until he knew I wasn’t a danger to myself anymore. And then he left my life. He hated who I was too much to stay, but he didn’t hate me enough to let me die.”

There was a lot to unpack there. And if Eddie was a good friend, he would ask more questions, listen to Tommy. But he didn’t think he could be a good friend to anyone right now, including himself. “You think I’m here to jump?”

“You have the same look in your eye that I had in those days leading up to me stepping off of this spot. I don’t know if you’re here to jump Eddie, but I don’t think you’re going to catch yourself either. Like hell am I going to leave you here. So please, Eddie, let me take you off of this bridge, alright? Because I’m not leaving until you do.”

Eddie looked down, lump in his throat as he watched the waves. “But…”

“Trust me, man. It’s a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Because it’s temporary. Chris is coming back and you guys will sort it out. You have a family that loves you and friends that want you. And you have a hell of a lot to live for. So you’re going to come back with me to Evan and you’re going to stay with us. Tomorrow we’re going to call your therapist.” There was a pause. “You have a therapist, right? Cause if not, we’re getting you one.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “Frank.”

And he shouldn’t expect Tommy to know who Frank was, but the man nodded immediately. “LAFD Frank? Good man. We’re calling him.”

Eddie turned to look at Tommy, shivering slightly as he felt the next gust of wind. “But you and Buck-“

“Don’t even think about it. Evan wants you there too.”

“You haven’t told him though.”

“I don’t have to. Eddie, will you let me get you off this bridge?”

And every fiber in Eddie’s being screamed at him to say no, to pull away. But Tommy was there, gaze unwavering and determined. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Eddie wasn’t even sure he wanted him to anymore.

He was so confused. He was so tired.

“Ok.”

[the-badger-mole]

A Bend in the Stream

Zuko sat up in bed, gasping. He looked around wildly. It took a few moments for his confusion to wane, but soon he was able to recognize the familiar trappings of his room. The one above the tea shop that his uncle was making famous with his delicate blends. There was no smell of floral garden air from the windows. His blanket was scratchy and stiff wool, and not the down stuffed silk that would be in King Kuei's suites.

After registering his surroundings, Zuko sighed and let his body flop back onto his bed. His racing heart slowly returned to a steady beat. It had all been a dream after all. Being captured by the Dai Li; the moment with the waterbender in the caverns; Azula offering him a chance to redeem himself; the death of the Avatar... It was all just a bizarrely vivid dream. Just as Zuko was drifting back off to sleep, his door swung open and Iroh came in with a wide grin.

"Good morning, nephew!" he said cheerfully. "It's a beautiful day, full of endless possibilities."

"Uncle," Zuko groaned, letting his head loll back onto his pillow.

"Don't take too long," Iroh said. "I have wonderful news! We're serving tea at King Kuei's court!"

"What?" Zuko sat upright and stared at Iroh in disbelief. That was how his dream had begun. Iroh, however, seemed to have taken his nephew's reaction as excitement.

"I got the news last night," he told Zuko. "It seems word of my mango jasmine blend has spread farther than I realized! I would have told you sooner, but you weren't here. Hurry, hurry! We still have to help with the morning rush before we go."

"Yes..." Zuko said distractedly. "That's right..."

"Breakfast is ready when you are." With that Iroh nearly skipped out of his nephew's room, humming a cheerful song under his breath.

Zuko got dressed and hurried through his meal (rice porridge with nuts and dried fruit was too common a breakfast for Zuko to read into it's similarities of his dream breakfast). Then he dressed and headed down to the tea shop. The feeling of deja vu was annoyingly sharp, but Zuko reasoned that his life had become so unusually predictable lately that his mind was still adjusting to the similarities of the day to day grind. So many of the customers were regulars at the tea house, it was no wonder he was learning all the orders already, despite his indifference.

At last, it was time to go serve tea to King Kuei. Something in Zuko's stomach turned. It was a sharp turning feeling in the pit of his stomach. King Kuei's palace was too familiar. He'd never been before, so how could he have dreamed it up in such detail? Zuko's hackles were up as he and his uncle were led to the room where they were to be received. It was just like his dream. Why were they being kept waiting for so long? Eventually, the wait began to grate on Zuko, and he paced the floor nervously.

"Calm down, Nephew," Iroh chided. He poured himself a cup of tea, completely unbothered.

"What's taking so long?" Zuko growled in frustration.

"Perhaps King Kuei overslept," Iroh said, smiling slightly at his nephew's discomfiture.

"Something's not right," Zuko said. Then he froze. It was just like his dream. Just like his dream. He looked at his uncle with wide, frightened eyes.

"What's the matter?" Iroh asked, setting his tea cup down.

"I think-" was all Zuko was able to get out before the door opened, and the next part of Zuko's dream came rushing back to him. Azula walked in, flanked by Dai Li agents, and smirking at Iroh and Zuko smuggly.

"It's tea time!" she said with a saccharine tone.

"No way!" Zuko gasped.

"Have you met the Dai Li?" Azula nodded to the men immediately at her sides. "They're earthbenders, but they have a killer instinct that's so firebender. I just love it." Zuko could only gape at his sister. He knew what she had been about to say. How could he know that? This moment felt less real than the dream had. Iroh stood up beside his nephew, and Zuko knew the words Iroh was about to say to his niece before they were ever spoken out loud.

"Did I ever tell you why they call me the Dragon of the West?"

Zuko was ready to grab Iroh's arm and run the minute Iroh created the hole in the wall. When Iroh used lightning to blast a hole in the second wall, Zuko froze again. Iroh jumped into the bushes below and turned back to his nephew.

"You'll be fine!" he assured Zuko. "Jump!" How could Zuko explain to his uncle why he couldn't? He hardly understood himself. He was just frozen into place. Moments later, Azula and the Dai Li caught up with him and Zuko turned to face his sister.

"You're so dramatic," she taunted him. "What? Are you going to challenge me to an Agni Kai?"

"You're not interested," Zuko murmured. Azula blinked in surprise, caught off guard for the barest moment. It wasn't enough, though, and her Dai Li guards sprang into action before Zuko could do much. He was quickly bound in stone cuffs, and throne into the catacombs beneath the city. And just like so many things that had happened that day, he was unsurprised to find himself trapped with the Avatar's waterbender (Katara. He'd known her name for some time, but Azula herself couldn't have tortured him into admitting it).

His mind was reeling as his memory of his dream and the reality of the situation crashed together, and he had the unpleasant sensation of remembering everything Katara had said before she'd spoken it. Particularly painful was Zuko anticipating her confession about how he was the face that for months she'd been picturing when she pictured the enemy. When she offered to heal his scar, Zuko was ready to break the walls down himself. Still, he submitted to her touch on his face. He wouldn't have been able to explain why for anything. Fortunately, he was spared thinking too hard about it when the Avatar arrived.

Azula caught up to them not long after. When Azula made her offer this time, Zuko froze, completely unable to thinks about anything beyond his own confusion. It was his dream. It was exactly his dream. Right down to the Avatar being struck down, and his uncle being taken prisoner so Katara could escape with the Avatar's....corpse? Zuko watched her go uncertainly. She met his confused gaze with a flinty one of her own. A shiver went down Zuko's spine.

Later that night, Azula congratulated Zuko on his choice. He barely registered any of it. Had he done all of this, he wondered. Had he literally dreamed his success into reality? He settled down into the bed of the room Azula had given him. Where King Kuei was, Zuko couldn't begin to hazard a guess, but for the time being, Azula had claimed his palace as her own, and given her brother the second best room available. Despite this, sleep came reluctantly for Zuko, but still, it came.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Zuko sat up in bed, gasping. He looked around wildly. It took a few moments for his confusion to wane, but soon he was able to recognize the familiar trappings of his room. The one above the tea shop that his uncle was making famous with his delicate blends. There was no smell of floral garden air from the windows. His blanket was scratchy and stiff wool, and not the down stuffed silk he remembered falling asleep under in King Kuei's suites.

A few moments later, his door swung open and Iroh came in with a wide grin.

"Good morning, nephew!" he said cheerfully. "It's a beautiful day, full of endless possibilities."

This time, all Zuko could do was stare. Iroh was as excited as ever as he admonished his nephew to get out of bed and get ready for work. Zuko was not at all surprised when Iroh announced that he had been invited to King Kuei's palace to serve tea.

"It's a trap," Zuko warned him. "We shouldn't go."

"Don't be silly, Nephew!" Iroh chortled. "Why would Kuei want to trap us?" Zuko wasn't sure how to handle that question without sounding insane. He went along with it. Perhaps he was still dreaming, Zuko reasoned. He had been asleep the entire time, and his brain wasn't allowing him to wake properly. He went through his day for the third time. He remembered most of the orders he'd taken the last couple of times, so he was able to devote most of his brain space to figuring out what was happening and how to stop it.

This time, he said little as he paced the floor in King Kue's palace, but he still hesitated just long enough that he was once again caught by Azula's Dai Li agents. And once more, he landed at Katara's feet. As before, he submitted to her tirade silently. This time, he was caught by the pain in he voice when she told him how his family had taken her mother from her. He wondered about her story. How long ago had it happened? How had it happened? How young had she been?

Katara wasn't much younger than he was, Zuko guessed. Maybe a year or two. He wasn't certain. She was still young enough to need her mother. It wasn't fair that she'd lost her mother so young. He said that, too, after commiserating with her over the loss of his mother. What would Ursa say? What would she think of her son sharing this with a Water Tribe girl?

When her hand came up to his face, Zuko had already accepted that she wouldn't have time to try her healing water on him. Sure enough, as her thumb grazed his lip, the wall on the far side of the cavern burst open, and the Avatar came in, followed closely by Iroh. Katara threw her arms around the younger boy, relieved to be rescued, and completely forgetting her offer to heal Zuko.

Zuko hesitated longer on his sister's offer. Little else changed, after all, how could he not help his sister? How could he not take his chance to go home? Still, Azula's suspicious gaze lingered on Zuko a bit longer afterwards. Zuko felt more eyes on him in general for the rest of the day. By the time he turned in that night, he was certain his sister had eyes on him even as he climbed into bed, sore, tired and confused.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Zuko opened his eyes, somehow unsurprised to find himself in the familiar trappings of his room above the tea shop. There was no smell of floral garden air from the windows. His blanket was scratchy and stiff wool, and not the down stuffed silk he had fallen asleep under in King Kuei's suites.

A few moments later, his door swung open and Iroh came in with a wide grin.

"Good morning, nephew!" he said cheerfully. "It's a beautiful day, full of endless possibilities." Zuko sat quietly as Iroh told him the good news. That they had been invited to serve tea to the King of Ba Sing Se. Iroh's smile dimmed a bit when he realized that Zuko wasn't reacting.

"Are you alright?" he asked. He sat down on the edge of Zuko's bed and pressed a hand to his forehead. "Are you sick?"

"...no," Zuko said after a moment. "I just...didn't sleep well." That may have been true. Zuko didn't remember falling asleep. Didn't remember dreaming. It seemed to him that he had just closed his eyes for a moment and then the world had reset itself. What was happening?

"Alright," Iroh said, unconvinced. "Breakfast is ready when you are." He got up and started to go. He paused at the door and stared at his nephew. "Or you can stay home, if you'd prefer." Zuko shook his head.

"I'm alright. I'll be out in a few minutes."

Zuko had heard all of his customers' orders so many times by this point, he didn't even need to pay attention to them. He did the cursory work, pretending to jot their tea preferences down on his note pad before he turned them into his uncle in the kitchen. Maybe that's why he was able to pay more attention. Maybe that's why he saw Katara this time. Their eyes met across the crowded tea room, Katara's eyes wide in horror. Zuko's eyes wide in shock. Had she always seen him that day? No wonder there was more anger than surprise when hours later, the Dai Li threw him into the catacombs before her. This time was no different.

She launched into her tirade, hurling her accusations, her pent up anger, her grief at him. This time, Zuko understood a bit better. She wasn't angry at him- or rather, she was, but it was a deeper wound she was purging. So when she spoke of her mother, Zuko said,

"That's something we have in common." And then... "What was her name?"

Katara was thrown completely for a loop, Zuko could see it in her eyes. She turned to him, wiping the tears from her eyes. She stared at him quietly for so long, Zuko didn't think she would answer him. But then...

"Kya," she whispered. "H-her name was Kya." Zuko shut his eyes and repeated the name to himself. Kya sounded like a poem. What kind of person was she? Was her daughter anything like her? Zuko thought she probably was, and if Katara was like her, then Kya must have been a very fierce...pain in the neck. The thought made him smile a bit.

"Are you laughing?" Katara demanded. Venomous rage bled back into her voice. Zuko met her gaze head on.

"No," he said. "I was just wondering if she was anything like you." That froze Katara once again, and this time Zuko did have to bite back a chuckle. There was a long, awkward pause. Then,

"My...my grandmother says I am," Katara said quietly. Zuko wasn't entirely sure she was speaking to him directly, or just didn't care if he heard her. "She says that I'm just like my mother when she was my age." She went silent again, casting furtive glances at Zuko. "What was your mother's name?"

"Ursa," Zuko sighed.

"Are you like her?" Katara asked. Zuko considered that for a moment. Then he shrugged.

"I hope I am," he said.

They didn't get around to Katara touching his face or her offer to heal his scar. They were still on opposite sides of the cave when Iroh and the Avatar burst in. This time, Zuko hesitated a beat too long, and he was crushed by a rock from one of the Dai Li agents.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Zuko shot up in bed, choking down a strangled scream. He could still remember the agonizing pain radiating from his caved in chest, and the feeling of blood filling his lungs as he gurgled out his last breath. He ran his hands over himself looking for any marks, or bruises. Any evidence at all from what had happened....last night? Tonight? What was going on? A hiccupping sob escaped Zuko just as the door opened.

"Good morning, nephew!" Iroh said cheerfully. "It's a beautiful day, full of endless possibilities." Iroh froze abruptly when he saw the look on Zuko's face. "What's wrong?"

Zuko didn't say anything. He just leapt out of bed and threw himself on Iroh and wept like child in his uncle's arms. Iroh let him, alternating between comforting Zuko and trying to understand what had him in such a state. It took nearly ten minutes before Iroh managed to calm Zuko. Then he bundled Zuko up in his scratchy blanket and guided him to the little kitchen table, the one that wobbled and was hardly big enough for the both of them. Minutes later, he pressed a fresh cup of soothing tea into Zuko's hands and squeezed into the other side of the table.

"What happened?" he asked. Zuko choked down an errant sob and shrugged helplessly.

"You won't believe me," he muttered.

"Try me," Iroh implored. He reached out across the table and squeezed Zuko's free hand. "Please, Zuko. Did something happen last night? Did you get into some trouble? Did you break up with your lady friend?" At that Zuko laughed. If only if it were something that small.

"No," he said. "Jin and I haven't spoken in..." Zuko frowned. How long ago had it been? How many times had he relived this day? Did it count towards how long it'd been since he'd seen Jin?

"Then, what is it?" Iroh looked ready to cry himself. That startled Zuko. And it loosened his tongue. He told Iroh everything. How he'd live this day already, several times. How the invitation to King Kuei's palace was a trap. That Azula was not only in the city, but in the middle of a coup. He told Iroh about being trapped in the cavern with Katara (despite the situation, Iroh managed to look arch at Zuko using the waterbender's name). Zuko hid his shame, but he told Iroh how Azula won at the end of the day. Then he told Iroh how the last time, he'd died. Iroh was stricken at that. He scanned Zuko for injuries that they both knew weren't there.

"No wonder you were upset," Iroh said.

"You believe me?" Zuko stared at his uncle in shock.

"I have little reason to doubt," Iroh shrugged. "After all, I haven't mentioned tea at King Kuei's yet. I've seen far too much in my day to dismiss your claim out of hand."

"What do I do, Uncle?" Zuko pleaded. Iroh shook his head sadly.

"I don't know myself," he admitted. "This has the marks of some spirit's intervention."

"So, I just have to keep living today over and over until whatever spirit is doing this decides they're done?" Iroh pursed his lips and blew out a long slow breath.

"It's rare for any spirit powerful enough to do this to act arbitrarily," he said. "There must be something you need to do. Some lesson you need to learn. Have you done anything different?"

"Not really," Zuko said. The only major changes had been his conversation with Katara and his hesitation in that final battle.

"Maybe you should try."

So, Zuko did just that. Neither he nor Iroh ended up going to the palace, or to work that day. They stayed inside. Katara never saw Zuko at the tea house. Zuko never ended up in the cavern. Beyond that, Zuko didn't know what difference it had made. He didn't know that without Iroh there to distract his niece, Katara and Aang both died in the cavern. He didn't know that Sokka and Toph had just barely made it out of the city, or that Chief Hakoda driven more by grief than logic had ordered a failed attack on the city that ended with half the Southern Tribe warriors dead or captured. It wasn't until the Dai Li agents arrived at their apartment that Zuko realized that Azula knew where he and Iroh lived. There was no need for her to keep him around now. The Avatar was undeniably dead. The stone cuffs made it impossible for Zuko and Iroh to defend themselves, and in a rare act of mercy, Azula killed them quickly.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Zuko woke up with the memory of lightning scorching his internal organs, and the echoes of Iroh's agonized screams in his ears. He flung his blanket off and threw the door open, startling Iroh, who was just coming in to wake him. This time Zuko didn't hesitate to tell Iroh everything. This time instead of waiting around the apartment all day, they stole out of the city. They were miles away when the city and the Avatar fell. They didn't stop until night fall, and they made an impromptu camp. They sat around the fire quietly, picking at their meals.

"Do you think this will end the loop?" Zuko asked his uncle. Iroh pursed his lips and blew out a long, slow breath.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I hope it does. But maybe I'm not who you're supposed to save."

"It must be," Zuko insisted. "Who else?" Iroh shrugged.

"Who can say with the spirits? It's rare for any spirit powerful enough to do this to act arbitrarily, though." Zuko didn't agree, but he said nothing. Finally, Iroh turned in for the night. Zuko offered to keep watch, determined to stay awake until the sun rose the next day. He drank a whole pot of the strong morning tea they'd packed. Despite their desperate flight out of Ba Sing Se, Zuko wasn't the least bit tired. He was certain he'd be able to stay up.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Zuko opened his eyes and let out a long, loud string of expletives when he found himself in the familiar trappings of his room above the tea shop. Iroh poked his head in, frowning in concern.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"No!" Zuko shouted. "Nothing is alright! I hate the spirits!"

Zuko didn't want to explain anything to his uncle this time. He disappeared into the city, picking fights with anyone who crossed him. Eventually he was caught by the Dai Li and taken to the underground lake prison. His last memory was of a flashing green light and someone trying to hypnotize him. The next few times he woke up, he tried breaking into the palace and catching Azula unawares. He lost three times, died once, reached a stalemate four times, and killed his sister twice.

Most often, he ended up back in the cavern with Katara. Once, she managed to use her magic water on his scar. It worked, sort of. The scar faded until it was just a pinkish blemish over his eye, but then Azula hit the Avatar with lightning just before Zuko took her out. The Avatar died because Katara didn't have the water to heal him with. She was kind enough not to blame Zuko, but the sound of her sobs chased him into the new day. He never let her try that again. The next few times, he found Katara earlier in the day. He managed to get her to listen to him most of the time. She was, he found, more inclined to trust than he expected. These days still ended up with Ba Sing Se's fall, but Katara usually managed to escape with her friends, sometimes with Zuko's help, sometimes on her own, but Zuko never took her up on her offer to join them. Something inside him still balked at the idea of helping the Avatar, though he'd long since given up on returning to his father. Being murdered by his gleeful sister in increasingly creative ways had dashed any real hope he had that his father wanted him home. He learned a lot about Katara on those days, when he managed to get her to hear him out before attacking.

Today, he was exhausted. He went to work his shift at the tea house, because he didn't know what else to do. He was rude and snappish with the customers all morning, barely stopping to listen to their orders, and even though he didn't get a single order wrong, the owner of the shop sent him away early. That was fine. Zuko didn't stop to answer his uncle's calls as he stormed out into the street, running into a smaller person. He reached out instinctively to steady them, ready to berate whoever it was, but he froze. Katara was in his arms, staring up at him in horror.

Of course...

This had happened before, and the last time, both he and Katara had been taken by the Dai Li to that underground prison lake. Now, Zuko let go of her and turned to run in the opposite direction before she even had a chance to react. He expected to feel water snaking around his ankles, an icicle in his back, to hear her screaming for the Dai Li behind him.

None of that happened. Instead, he ran into two more girls. Girls in Kyoshi Warrior makeup. Girls who he'd recognize anywhere, no matter how much paint was on their faces.

"Oh no," he groaned.

"Is that anyway to greet old friends?" Mai asked mockingly.

Zuko ended up in the cavern with Katara. He wasn't sure how she'd gotten caught, but he was there first this time. Whatever tirade she had been preparing to launch into stopped abruptly when she saw him hitting his head against the rock wall with alarming force.

"What are you doing?" she gasped. Zuko was too dizzy to be surprised when she pulled him away from the wall. He could feel something trickle down his face, and whatever it was had Katara staring at him in open concern.

"Let go!" Zuko tried to shrug her off. "I have to get out of here!"

"Zuko!" Katara pulled him away from his wall, and he was too dazed to stop her. She pulled water from...somewhere, Zuko wasn't sure. Maybe the walls. The cave was damp enough. Her hand glowed a soft blue, and the pain in his forehead faded, to his disappointment.

"What did you go and do that for?" Zuko demanded, rubbing his hand over his unbruised forehead.

"Why were you hitting you head against the wall?" Katara countered sharply. She folded her arms and glowered at Zuko.

"I was trying to kill myself, if you must know," he sneered at her. For all the times they'd met and all he had learned about Katara, this was a new day. They were not friends.

"What?" Katara looked stricken, and Zuko felt bad, despite himself.

"Forget it," he said, turning away from her. "It doesn't matter."

"Zuko, what's going on?" Katara ran around him so she could see his face. "Tell me what's happening! Why are we here?"

"Trust me, you couldn't have picked a question I want answered more," he scoffed. "I don't know why I'm here. I've been here too many times to count at this point, and I don't know why! I've tried not coming here, but that doesn't work either."

"What are you talking about?" Katara asked, staring at him as if he'd grown another head. Zuko almost laughed. Maybe he had. It would make as much sense as anything else.

"I'm cursed, Katara," he said a bit hysterically. "I'm cursed. I've lived this day so many times... I...I don't know what to do. I'm losing my mind, and I'm scared." Zuko crumpled to the floor and sobbed into his palms.

Katara didn't know what to do. He could feel her hovering over him, uncertain of what, if anything, to do for him. Finally, she sat beside him, and hesitantly wrapped her arm around him from the side. All pride had utterly fled Zuko. He threw himself into her embrace and sobbed on her shoulder. Katara stiffened, and for a moment Zuko thought she would throw him off of her, but kindness, or compassion, or whatever drove her overrode her hatred for him, and she held him stiffly while he cried.

Zuko composed himself as fast as he could, and pulled away from Katara. He'd left a large wet mark of sweat and tears and snot on her dress, but she was a good sport about it.

"Will you tell me what's going on?" she asked.

"You won't believe me," Zuko said. The words brought back a memory of a similar conversation with his uncle.

"Try me," Katara said, with a wry smirk.

"I already told you," Zuko said. "I'm reliving today and I don't know how to get out of this loop."

"What?" Katara stared at him as if his second head had sprouted wings and started earthbending.

"I told you wouldn't believe me." This time Zuko did chuckle. "I've been here in this cavern with you, so many time's I've lost count. Do you think I'm crazy?"

"I-I," Katara stammered. "Zuko, this isn't..."

"I can prove it," Zuko told her. "We've spoken before. You've told me things. Personal things."

"Excuse me?" Katara stared at him, aghast.

"You have," Zuko insisted. "How else do I know that you have magic healing water from the Spirit Oasis?"

"Y-you were there," Katara said. "You could've been spying." Zuko shook his head.

"Nope," he said. "That's not it. I also know that you lost your mother. We've talked about her nearly every time we've met." Rage flashed across Katara's face at that.

"How dare you-?"

"I'm just saying what you told me," Zuko said. "You told me her name was Kya. And you told me how your grandmother said you're just like her when she was your age." Katara gaped at him in shock.

"How did you know-"

"You told me," Zuko sighed. "Just like you told me that your favorite color is seafoam green, and you miss the dancing lights in the sky back home, and your brother Sokka once got two hooks stuck in his thumb. One time, you ate papaya even though you hate it because a fortuneteller told you to. I have no other way to know any of that except from you. I'm not lying. I'm stuck in some sort of time loop. I don't know how to get unstuck."

"Oh-" Katara sat beside him quietly for a long time, processing the new information. "And I just..told you all of that? Why?"

"I don't know," Zuko shrugged helplessly. "I asked, and if you were in a good mood, you'd tell me. I don't always see you, and when I do we don't always talk." More silence, though, Zuko could almost hear her brain working double time to process all of this.

"Do you know how it started?' she asked after a long while.

"No," Zuko shook his head. He had tried to recall if he'd crossed any priests, or accidentally touched some relic, or walked under a ladder, but he couldn't think of anything out of the ordinary until he woke up and the day repeated. He told Katara as much.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"I am, too," he shook his head. "I'm the only one who knows it, but you're all stuck in this loop with me, it seems. I really am sorry."

"That's got to be so lonely," Katara said. Zuko let out another shuddering sob. He hadn't let himself admit it yet, but she was right. It was incredibly lonely. No matter how many times they'd spoken, Iroh didn't remember why his nephew sometimes woke up screaming. Katara wouldn't remember this conversation, or that she and Zuko had made a connection and had more in common than she realized. In a few hours, Zuko would wake up and they would be enemies again. Katara pulled him into another embrace, and Zuko clung to her like a life line. He didn't cry on her anymore, though.

"I'm so scared," he whispered. "I can't even die." Katara stiffened in his hold, but instead of pushing him away, she held him tighter.

"There's got to be a way out," she said. "There has to be." Zuko didn't bother telling her that he'd tried everything he could think of. He pulled away slightly, not quite ready to let go of her yet, and rested his forehead against hers.

"Maybe I'm not dying the right way," he said.

"Why do you think you have to die at all?" Katara asked. Zuko snorted.

"Wouldn't it make your life easier if I were dead?" he asked. "If I die and end this loop, you wouldn't have to worry about me coming after you, or betraying your trust, or...or..." Zuko clenched his teeth tightly. Katara unwound an arm from his mid section and cupped his jaw.

"Where's that stubborn mule-ox who chased us around the world?" she demanded. "Where's that fighting spirit that led you to do stupid things, like challenge me while I was surrounded by my element?"

"I think that bit of me died around the fortieth time I woke up this morning," Zuko laughed mirthlessly. "Katara, I can't do this anymore. I have to figure out a way to end this. Even if it means I die. I can't go on like this!" His grip tightened around her waist, and he felt the tears coming again.

Then his world came to a screeching halt.

Katara's lips were pressed against his. Every thought in Zuko's head flickered out and all he could focus on was how soft Katara's lips were.

She pulled away with a jerk. Already she was babbling an apology, an explanation that she didn't know how else to distract him, other words that were lost on Zuko. Then she stopped talking when he leaned in to kiss her again. It was an urgent, awkward kiss between two inexperienced and desperate teens, with too much teeth and too many hands uncertain of where touch was okay. They kissed until they were breathless. They kissed until the wall imploded. And when Iroh and Aang burst in and the dust settled, they were still clinging to each other in a way that left little doubt of what they'd been doing.

They sprang apart, but instead of rushing over to Aang as she'd done so many times before, Katara stood awkwardly beside Zuko. A bright red blush covered her face and neck, and she looked a bit ashamed of herself as she avoided her friend's devastated face, but she didn't leave Zuko's side. Her knuckles bushed against his reassuringly, but neither of them made to entwine their hands.

There was no time to discuss any of what had happened. Azula and the Dai Li agents had heard the commotion as they always did, and soon they found themselves in the middle of a battle. Zuko had long since given up on joining his sister's side. And maybe the kiss had emboldened him, but this time, he joined the fight against his sister without hesitating. That enraged her, but between him, his uncle and Katara, she and the Dai Li were on their back foot. Zuko tried to keep his sister's focus on him. This time he would see Katara and his uncle escape safely with the Avatar. But something went wrong, and Aang was struck by Azula's lightning.

Katara in her rage was a sight to behold. She caught Aang as he fell, and almost simultaneously called up a wave with all the water in the cavern and froze Azula and her guards. That hadn't happened before. Neither had Zuko and Iroh ever managed to actually escape the cavern with Katara and Aang.

Later that night on Appa's saddle, Zuko watched in awe as the spirit water literally brought the Avatar back from the dead. He was glad that Katara hadn't wasted it on something as frivolous as his scar. Especially not when she looked at him, almost weeping with relief when her friend's chest began to fall and rise again.

In the chaos, Zuko and Iroh's presence had gone unremarked by Katara's other companions, but now that Ba Sing Se was miles behind them, and the Southern Tribe Warriors' camp lay before them, Sokka and Toph finally stopped to question their new companions. Katara told them in no uncertain terms that they owed Zuko and Iroh both hers and Aang's lives, and that they were fine to travel with them as long as they liked. Iroh offered his services as a firebending master for the Avatar once he woke. Zuko was quiet and stuck by either Iroh's or Katara's side- the latter was noted by Sokka with more than a hint of suspicion, but Zuko didn't care. It wouldn't matter in a few hours.

When they landed for an hour to plan their next move, Zuko told Katara as much when he managed to capture a few moments alone with her. She squeezed his hand.

"It'll be okay," she said. Zuko thought she was going to kiss him again, but Sokka appeared, inserting himself between them, with a suspicious glower levied at Zuko. Katara scoffed and went to go check on Aang.

They arrived at Chameleon Bay not long after that, and Zuko and Iroh were welcomed, albeit coldly by Katara's father and his troop. Zuko wasn't sure what Katara said, but he and Iroh were given a room on the Fire Nation ship Chief Hakoda and his men had managed to take possession of. Zuko couldn't sleep, though.

He ended up on the deck of the ship as the moon was nearing its zenith. It was close to the time that the day would reset for him. Zuko had timed it before. He figured he had about twenty minutes before he blacked out and woke in his room at the tea shop. He dreaded it, but he also felt a bit melancholy about it. No one would remember what happened today. His new allies, as fragile as the relationship was, would not know what happened tonight. His uncle, sleeping safely (as safely as was possible, at least) would soon burst into his room, excited about the trap that had been set for him at King Kuei's palace. Katara wouldn't remember comforting him in the caverns. She wouldn't remember kissing him, and when he saw her next, they would be enemies again. He didn't dare hope for a repeat of this particular version of the day, either.

Light footsteps came up behind him, but Zuko didn't so much as flinch. The worst that could happen would be someone slitting his throat. He wasn't overly worried about it, though, and he wasn't all that surprised when Katara sat down beside him, letting her legs dangle over the edge of the stern.

"It's late," she said.

"Yeah," Zuko agreed.

"Aren't you tired?"

"Aren't you?" Zuko scoffed. He glanced at Katara out of the corner of his eye. She was still covered in gore from where she'd caried Aang out of the cavern. Her hair was stiff with dried sweat, and there were smudges of mud and blood on her face and hands. She was gorgeous, Zuko realized with horrified clarity. He looked away from her and cleared his throat. He turned his gaze out on the the water of the bay. The moonlight scattered across the surface of the water, and danced across the waves.

"It's getting close to the time when my day starts again," he told Katara quietly. He sagged against the railing of the ship and rested his forehead against the cool metal. He was exhausted. He was always exhausted when he reached this part of the day.

"What if you stay up?" Katara suggested. Zuko shook his head with a sigh.

"I've tried," he told her. "If I don't fall asleep, or get knocked out or die, I just sort of black out. I can't fight it." Katara gasped, but didn't say anything. She slipped her hand inside of his and held it tightly. It was a nice sensation to end on, Zuko thought. He didn't fight it when sleep came to claim him.

Sunlight on his face woke him. Zuko looked around in confusion. He was not in his room above the tea shop. Above him, he saw the lightening dawn sky instead of the ceiling he'd been expecting. There was no scratchy stiff wool blanket over him. There was something soft and warm, and much heavier than a blanket on him though. He looked down and found Katara asleep on his chest, her arm draped across him protectively.

She must have heard the change in Zuko's heartbeat. Katara began to stir. She sat up and looked around blearily. She was not a morning person, Zuko thought giddily. When her eyes finally landed on him, several things crossed her face; surprise, fear, then dawning realization.

"Did you do it?" she asked. "Did you break the loop?" Zuko nodded, swallowing hard.

"It looks like it," he said. He looked around himself in awe. It was a new day.

[confessionsdiaz]

as someone who's been there, hearing Ryan say "luckily it didn't work, luckily i got a second chance" i feel like crying, because while for a lot of us its a shared sentiment, saying any of that out loud is so fucking hard. Being able to speak about what we have been through is so fucking hard. to anyone in the same boat i love you im proud of you and im happy you are here <3

[loucifersbitch]

"You left."

"Buck?"

"You left me."

"I don't - what's going on? Why do you sound -"

"I thought you would be the one to stay. Everyone always leaves. I thought you'd stay."

"I wasn't trying to hurt you, Buck. I was trying to save us both from getting hurt later."

"I was in love with you. I still am. But I thought you'd stay."

"I didn't leave because I don't love you."

"Why does everyone always leave? When will I be good enough for someone to stay?"

"Buck? Did you - take something?"

"I thought you'd stay."

"I'm calling 911."

...

"Buck?"

...

"Evan?"