#ugh i miss this story it was kind of the common ancestor of a lot of what im working on now

[paingoes]

character who always has to wear a tie around his neck so there is always something available to restrain him with :)

[neon-junkie]

I’m not a Monster

Summary: After being rejected yet again, Micah wonders off to the outskirts of camp. His mind wanders, and he questions if he really is as bad as people make him out to be.

Word Count: 1588

Rating: SFW

Tags: Thoughts, Feelings, Redemption.

Notes: you know that camp interaction where Micah asks Mary-Beth to dance, and she rejects him? that line Micah says, 'im not a monster', just hits me right in the feels every time. So this is just some rambling of Micahs thoughts after that event happens.

"I ain't a monster, Miss," Micah tells her, but it's obvious from her body expression and the frown on her face that she isn't interested. Whatever. Micah moves on. This isn't the first time he's dealt with rejection, but something feels different today. He feels off. For the first time in a long time, Micah feels hurt, but it's not Mary-Beth's fault. She hasn't done anything wrong, she's just been honest with him and Micah can't fault her for that. He isn't like those men that won't take no for an answer; Micah knows when he's not wanted, and he's not going to force approval from anybody. That just isn't his style. Micah wanders to the outskirts of camp, a common place for him to linger. He's far enough to be isolated, but not so far that he doesn't feel left out. It doesn't matter anyway, the camp doesn't want him there and he knows that. Micah knows what people say about him, how they feel about him. Yes, Micah's done far too many bad things to never be considered for a redemption arc, but every time he attempts to change, people shut him down before he can even move a muscle. 

He is a monster, isn't he? Micah Bell, the man who first made the newspapers at aged 17, alongside his father and brother. He kept that scrap of newspaper for so many years, only recently discarding it back at his little camp near Strawberry after an embarrassing breakdown. Micah hates guilty emotions, he hates anything that makes him feel like lesser than himself, and he'll do whatever he can to bury those emotions deep enough so that they'll never see the light of day again. He'd spent the night clearing out out Baylock's saddlebags and his coat pockets when he found the piece of paper again. Normally when he reads it, a smile comes to his face, but it didn't this time. Micah had recently tried reaching out to his brother, to try and rekindle those flames but Amos put that spark out fast. His letter back to Micah was harsh, but Micah understood why. He's not surprised that Amos rejected him, Micah would reject himself too if given the chance. Wouldn't he? Micah sighs as he leans against the tree, looking out over the dip of water that surrounded Clemens Point. Would he reject himself? If another Micah was stood before him, would he really bring harm to himself? Is he really that bad? Micah knows the answer simply because he's debating about it. He doesn't quite hate himself, a little less than that. He has pride over the chaos he creates and the bounty over his head, but when it comes down to self-acceptance, Micah just can't accept himself. He truly is his own father's creation, Micah Bell the third. His father and his grandfather were just as ungodly and feral as he is, but Micah's yet to become the worst. He's had his fair share of murders and robberies, but he's still young, and his kill count is still far less than his ancestors. Maybe there is still time for a redemption arc. Maybe Micah will take Amos's letter as a wake-up call to finally change himself. Sure, he's going to miss the adrenaline rush that he gets when he kills another man, and his index fingers will continue to twitch as he misses that high he gets when he pulls the trigger, but maybe a life within civilization isn't that bad. Amos can do it, so why can't he? Would Micah really be happy though? A well-dressed, clean, and friendly Micah, holding down a normal job within the walls of Saint Denis so he can feed his children and wife. Micah pulls a face at the thought of it; that just isn't him. He's always wanted a family, just like most men do, and he's tried over and over but the rejection continues to come, just like tonight. For God's sake, he can't even get a woman to dance with him, let alone take his surname and bear his children. He's hopeless. "Pull yourself together," Micah tells himself as his bottom lip begins to shake. He refuses to let those lesser emotions get the better of him, especially not over a damn woman. He refuses to cry for anybody, even himself. There's nothing worse than allowing another person to have control over your emotions, and if Micah Bell isn't in control of himself at all times, then he isn't Micah Bell. He's said it before and he'll say it again, but if any man allows a woman to tell them what to do and how to feel, then they're no man at all. His father taught him that from day one, and although Amos has rejected that out-dated way of thinking, Micah won't. Micah can't, simply because he's never been given the chance. Maybe one day Micah will come across a woman that leaves him so breathless and turns him into mush, that without realizing it, all his father's teachings go out the window and he simply becomes putty in her hands. Micah won't admit it, not even to himself, but he longs for that. He longs for a woman to break down his walls and build bridges instead, he longs for a woman that will give him the time of day, a woman that looks at him with warm and lustful eyes rather than a scowl on her face. But Micah will never get that. He knows this. He's only on this earth because his father knocked up a prostitute. He knows that men like himself and his father will never find somebody to truely love them, no woman is attracted to chaos. Women like tender things, like flowers and walks in the park. Don't they? Micah isn't too sure because he's never had a conversation with a woman for long enough to even realize what that other sex is really like. The closest he's ever got to anything even remotely loving was a gentle kiss that some prostitute placed on his cheek after he finished his round with her. Ugh. Fuck. Micah waves his hand, dismissing those thoughts. He's disappointed in himself for allowing his mind to trail off on those forbidden subjects: women and feelings. "Just give up," Micah tells himself. Women don't want him, they'll never want him. The camp doesn't want him, regardless of how many times he's tried to be kind to them. The only person who actually tolerates him is Dutch, he's the only one out of the lot that'll actually speak to him in the first place. He's tried to get along with Dutch's closest members, Arthur and Hosea, but oh god, they shot him down before Micah could even open his mouth. Is he really that bad? What is it about him that puts people off? Sure, he doesn't take much care of his appearance other than shaping his facial hair and having a wash every once in a while, but there was clearly something about his aura that screamed 'stay away' to everybody, without Micah intending it to. He only hangs around this lot because it's safer for wolves to roam in packs. It also means Micah has gunmen to spare, he doesn't have to do chores because the women and the other rejects do that for him, and there's guaranteed income because Dutch is as money hungry as he is. Micah's been itching to start his own gang for a while now, and he plans to do so when the time is right. Cleet and Joe are down for it, they just need to plan it properly and find a few lost souls to drag into his posse with the false promise of redemption and security. Dutch does it well, and Micah's already began picking up on how he does it so he can repeat that pattern himself one day. The fact that Micah is already planning to start his own gang clearly shows that he's past the point of saving. He's a bad man, but Micah's never considered himself a monster, regardless of what other people say. Folk are harsh and judge without knowing the facts first, and Micah is sure that if they knew his back story, then they'd know that he's not a monster. He's just a man who was never taught right from wrong. No, he was taught right from wrong, but his father taught everything back to front. Micah sighs once more. Why is he thinking about all this? Why has he allowed these thoughts to cross his mind, all because some woman rejected him? Fuck sake. So be it. Every single person he ever come across think Micahs a monster without even getting to know him. Folk are harsh, and the world is even harsher. It's kill or be killed, and you can either win or lose within this game called life. There's not a single soul out there that'll give Micah the time of day, so why does he bother with dreaming about his own redemption arc so often? Micah gives up. He's not a good man, he'll never be a good man. He'll be exactly what his father taught him to be, and even worse. Everybody makes Micah out to be eviler than he is, so what's the point in trying to make people see that he's really not that bad? If it's a monster they want, then it's a monster they'll get.

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

9. My Sharon…ah a.k.a. porn star alteregos, the other Stone and a dangerous ginger (Part Two)

I peek in our dressing room to check if somebody else’s already in there. No one. Thank goodness. I sneak in, not that I’m being followed by anyone… but somehow the events happening around us have made me develop this reflex, as if sneaking could save me from being spotted, recognized, approached, touched all the time… I crouch down on the ground in the corner and lean my head against the wall. I mean… I don’t hate people, I like meeting new people, exchanging opinions about any topic I’m interested in but I also want to keep it under control. It is me who decides whether I want to talk to someone or not… or it was me. Before this whole thing, being rude had no consequences, not that I was rude that often… But I want to be rude more and more often and funnily, I have less and less right to do it. Right… it’s not the perfect word to describe it… I feel like… I don’t know, being… pressured. But it’s not Kelly, it’s not the management, nor is it the press, I don’t even give a fuck about press, really… It’s me. I put myself under pressure, I force myself to be kind and polite to everyone… just because I feel trapped, I can’t be a total asshole… I mean, we are here because of the kids so who am I to refuse them when they want to say a few words to me? Also these staff members everywhere we go… even if I hate being served and fussed around, they’re only doing their job. If I said out loud everything I think in these situations, I would be like those stuck-up guests at the hotel I worked at or the rich folks who sometimes stopped at the gas station…

After a few minutes of contemplation I suddenly notice it. Or not it… It’s… nothing. Silence. Despite the turmoil on the set of the show, there’s complete silence here, the insulation must absorb all the outside noises. Gosh, I miss silence so much. Dictionaries usually define silence as the absence of sound… but I feel right the opposite, sound is the absence of silence… I mean, we’re only a tiny corner of the universe, the word “sound” doesn’t even make any sense anywhere else at all … how could anyone think that silence isn’t the basic state? Okay, now I’m contradicting myself again, however much I love and need silence, I couldn’t live without music and the sound of waves. I’m just not used to not being able to be alone whenever I want to. I don’t miss any of my former shitty jobs but I must admit I had plenty of time for writing or just… thinking. Now? I’m happy if I can hear my own thoughts at all.

I glance at a roll of duct tape on the chair in front of me; I grab it and start rolling it back and forth under my palm. We’re playing at the SNL… it’s weird. I used to watch this show or Letterman lying on the moldy, dusty couch in the concierge room of the hotel. I could still feel the smell of cigarette fume, my heritage from my ancestor, Hank. And now I’m here. I wonder if there’s a guy somewhere lying on a moldy, dusty couch, watching me… and if there is, does he like what I’m doing? Would I like what I’m doing on the screen if one part of me could still be lying on that couch?

Gosh, I’m sweating and stinking… I start rummaging in my small suitcase, I know I brought a spare shirt… there it is, the plain brown one. I remember I was wearing the same one on the set of our unplugged show, when I wrote a message on my arms during Porch… uhm… we’re playing Porch tonight too… what if…? Why not? Maybe I can use this farfetched TV appearance for something reasonable…

“Jesus!” we both exclaim as our backs collide. I was immersed in my DIY work so much that I didn’t even notice her entering the room and she approached me… walking backwards??? I should have known, she’s an advanced sneaker too. Based on the short time she’s spent with us I realized, we have more in common than she would think… we haven’t talked that much, but that’s right the point… she obviously needs to be alone from time to time and…

“Sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t know somebody’s in here…” Bingo. “I mean, I thought… I was…”

“Hey, you’re a crew member of Pearl Jam. You’re at the right place…” I send a smile at her and point at the sheet with our band’s name on the door.

“I know… but if you want to be alone I can leave…” she points with her thumb behind her back; her expression is still embarrassed and apologetic at the same time.

“Hey, I’m pretty sure you’re one of the very few people with whom I can be completely by myself, okay?” I raise my hands defensively and she uses the occasion to catch a glimpse of the dressing table behind me.

“Are you duct-taping your shirt? I have a small sewing purse for emergency cases, I can fix it for you if you’re not familiar with…”

“Uhm…” I step aside so that she can see the result of my work. I can literally hear the creak of the cogwheels in her head as she’s examining the redecorated piece of clothing.

“A coat hanger?” A severe furrow is developing and deepening between her eyebrows, gosh, I didn’t think human face muscles were able to that, her forehead should have already caved in… “Pro Choice?” The muscles finally relax, which is a relax for me too since I started feeling physical pain due to her look.

“Correct answer. Do you pick the toaster or the hairdryer? Or you go on for the jackpot?” I joke but I glance something dark in her eyes and the eyebrows begin to move suspiciously again. “Uhm… everything okay…?” I utter quickly to prevent her head from exploding into tiny pieces.

“Yes… Actually I don’t know them that well…are they that organization that supports women’s right for… abortion?” Her eyes are avoiding mines as she jabbers in a thin voice and somehow my sneakers seem more and more interesting to me…

“Almost… but they don’t support… ugh, abortion, they are just convinced that every woman has right to choose… and be supported whatever her decision is…” I explain to my shoes and decide to crouch down again; I can see from the corner of my eye she’s doing the same.

“It sounds nice but… it’s just such a hard thing… I mean is it a real option, to decide about someone’s existence? Not that I’m a good Christian and of course there are cases when it’s obvious you can’t keep a baby… but there are lot of young girls who don’t even know anything about safe sex or the ways of birth control… the right for choice begins at sexual education…” Her index fingers slowly begin to scratch the skin on her thumbs.

“Exactly… and Pro Choice runs programs about sexual consciousness, birth control, they support prevention of venereal diseases…” I embrace my knees but can’t take my eyes off those fingers that dig deeper and deeper in each other.

“But there are women whose situation is not as desperate as…”

“…as what?”

“I don’t know… it’s just difficult to…”

“Here you are!” Beth’s impatient shout makes start both of us and Judy’s deep, resigning sigh plants a thought in my brain. Was it Beth from whom she was hiding? “What is difficult?” she inquires curiously as she joins us on the ground.

“We are just talking about… Pro Choice and…”

“…and difficult decisions.” I finish the sentence for her; the index fingers switch to a higher speed, Jesus, she won’t stop until they reach the bones…

“I was just thinking… that apart from radical situations, it is pretty hard to decide between going on with your life the same way as before and… letting someone else going on with their life… at all…”

“But no one can say to a woman what to do with her body! A woman is not a fuckin’ hatchery who…”

“Hey, back off, my amazon, there’s no need to tear her to pieces, she’s not a Republican.” I throw my arm around my girlfriend’s neck and plant a kiss on her temple. “Aren’t you…?” I mouth silently to her over Beth’s head, since I realize in the meantime we’ve never discussed each other’s political preferences. She answers with a barely perceptible shake of her head and a lopsided smile.

“I’m just trying to say that… this is the toughest decision a woman can ever make… I knew a Japanese girl at Juilliard… a flutist… she was talented, I mean, really gifted, according to our professors, she was determined to become one of the greatest solo musicians in the world. She dated a percussionist guy, they broke up not much before her graduation… and rumors started spreading about them… her… We didn’t see her for weeks, she completely disappeared and then she showed up again… and I felt something was wrong… somehow her face… her face was… different. And I immediately knew the rumors were true. And she made her decision. She chose career… I don’t know if anyone was with her during those weeks, her family lived in Japan, she was sort of a reserved, shy girl so all her friends came from the bunch of her boyfriend…”

“And that’s exactly why all women deserve to be supported in this difficult phase of their life, the last thing they need is being labeled as “murderers”. Beth cuts her off in a softer voice.

“Look, I don’t know what you were thinking about this whole thing like eight or ten years ago… Now, you’re a young women with a degree, you have perspectives but… did you think the same when you were a teenager? Is it maybe typical that people live their life with the person with whom they had sex as teens? Because that’s often what’s expected from them at an unwanted pregnancy… and what’d be the result? Three or more potentially unhappy people who live someone else’s life in a cage built from hypocrisy and conformism, wrapped in religious principles with a nice ribbon on the top…” I involuntarily raise my voice, and she immediately notices the difference.

“Oh come on, how do you know that well how it might feel?” she rolls her eyes in disbelief.

“Actually, he knows it pretty well…”

“Wait… what? I didn’t know… think… that you… sorry.”

“It’s an old story… Ten years old. That’s the age my child would have been. And I would not be here… I wouldn’t be in this band or traveling. It was one of the hardest phases of my life and I don’t know how I’ll feel about it when I’ll have a child in the future. And I can only imagine how a woman might feel in a same situation, it’s happening to her body and if she doesn’t want it to happen, she must be escorted through trenches, which only adds to her trauma. This is not a game. This is not a religious pep rally. And those people who want to decide about her fate, politicians and priests are all…”

“Men.” Beth ends my sentence with a bitter shrug.

“If it was a man’s body and it was his destiny, there would be no issue. Not in today’s male dominated society.”

“Wow… I mean… I didn’t think this conversation would lead that far… I mean… I’m still trying to process what you’ve just told to me… But all this crazy, public fights about life of women or even girls reinforce me in thinking they should be able to prevent this… by education, by being supported and confirmed that it’s legit to say “no” and this should be taught for the male side of society too, when it’s not them who pays the price for everything…”

“You’re right. Many parents still think it’s a taboo and most asshole adults think if they tell the story about bees and flowers and the stork, they’ve done everything.” Beth agrees annoyed.

“Ed… what if… I mean, since you’re here, you could expand this action with other features… like… I’d appreciate if you demonstrated the correct application of condom using a banana…”

We all start giggling at Judy’s idea but she suddenly freezes as the door opens. The newcomer doesn’t show any sign of having heard anything from our conversation apart from raising one eyebrow as he’s heading to his guitar case.

“Ahaha… I don’t think anyone else would appreciate it… but maybe we could write a song about contraception, safe sex, sexual abuse, all these stuff… hey, Stoney, do you have a spare riff for the cause?” I joke but I immediately regret it seeing the journey of Judy’s facial skin from the whitest shade of pale to burgundy, accompanied by an effortless noise between a sigh and a scream. Jesus, that’s how I’ve always imagined dying people’s last breath… Okay, I know they aren’t best buddies but… that’s interesting…

Stone turns back to scan our faces for a few seconds before answering my question and as I notice that typical smug grin playing around his lips, I’m already sure that Judy’s embarrassment didn’t escape his notice either.

“Now that you’re saying, there’s one particular chord combination… every time I play it I can’t help hearing the words “legally authorized ejaculation” in my head, it’s strange, isn’t it?”

“Ew, Stone!” Beth throws the roll of duct tape towards him but he manages to lean away and turns back to his guitar case to go on with the pointless rummaging.

“But you could write a censored version by changing “ejaculation” to “evacuation” in case it hurts someone’s moral sense…” he mumbles squinting at Judy who jumps to her feet, dusts her dress off and takes a big breath. No, please, no, I don’t want to wipe blood from the floor…

“I… I have to go… I promised to Scully to check the… thing…” she stutters and leaves the room frantically.

For a fragment of a second I see a satisfied smirk on the face of our guitarist but he rearranges it quickly into a pretended concern by the time he takes place on the chair opposite us.

“Did I say something wrong?”

***

“Hallo?”

„Hi babe!”

„Who’s that? I’ve got no time to mess around, I’m waiting for the call of my hot rock star boyfriend…” the smoky voice starts driving me crazy. Okay, picking up girls has never been the No. 1 reason for playing music to me but when a girl like Amber is cooing with you on the phone, you give thanks for positive externalities of rock industry…

“You should dump that jerk, cock-rock and teasing are out of fashion… plus, it’s kind of embarrassing if your guy uses more hair spray than you.” I play on.

“What, are you saying teasing is lame? Interesting, guys still seem to like it. But I can give it up anytime…”

“Don’t. Ever. Stop. Teasing.”

“And actually, current female trends don’t really focus on hair spray.” Ugh, I think I’ve trapped myself, I’m not prepared for a lecture about “fashion suicides”, Amber’s favorite topic about poor clothing, makeup and hairstyle choices. Luckily, I can already play guitar well enough not to care about my look… and I’ve also managed to hide the exhibits of my Johnny Thunders phase from her.

“Sssooo… did you watch your hot rock star boyfriend on TV?”

“Uhm, I wasn’t at home last night, you know I had that invitation to that fashion show, it also included the after party.”

What? “That” invitation? “That” after party? I should do something with these blackouts during our phone calls, they’re awkward enough even when talking face to face but then I have excuse since she’s the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever dated. Why the fuck can’t I remember at least the half of what she said? I’m such a jerk, I should make notes and go through them again before calling her. Like at the beginning of episodes of soap operas, “last week in Amber & Stone…”

“… so I had to go because if I’d canceled it, I would have lost all my chances to sign to his company, you know how much I hate working for Elaine…” Fuck, note No. 1: stop talking to yourself while being on the line with someone else. His company? I remember listening to her gushing about a young fashion designer who founded a company lately in Seattle and was recruiting young designers. Congrats, Gossard, you’re officially unable to keep up with the news in your girlfriend’s life. “…and I think I made a good first impression on him because he asked me to drop by and show my works. But he offered the same to Tiffany too so I don’t know what to think…” Okay, I managed to miss the storyline again but I think I get the point.

“That’s great, you both could escape from slavery then.”

“Are you kidding me?” Due to her sudden outburst I almost drop the receiver. “That mean serpent tries to make my life a living hell every single day. I wouldn’t be willing to work with her ever again, no way…”

“Uhm… I thought…” What did I think exactly? Isn’t Tiffany her favorite coworker and confidante? Obviously, my memory or rather the lack of it tricked me again, now that she yelled at me, I can remember she’s her archenemy with whom she’s had a hard rivalry since she was hired. But what’s the name of her friend then? Shit, I can remember it was something similar… Ebony… no… Bethany… no… Brittany… no… Felony… that’s not even a name… ffffuu… Felicity!!! That’s it! “I thought you mentioned Felicity, the line is crackling, I can barely hear you.” I fib.

“Actually, Felicity neglects me nowadays, since she started dating her new boyfriend, she hasn’t given a shit about me… But she’s so blind, the guy is a douchebag, he…”

“Sorry, I still can’t hear anything…” I interrupt her talking louder for no reason. Okay, I have a reason. Asshole move, I know but I don’t feel like listening to stories about people I haven’t even met… “Can you hear me, Major Amber?”

“What’s this military bullshit, I can’t follow you, honey…” she tweets with sincere confusion.

“Get it… Can you hear me, Major Tom? David Bowie… Space Oddity…” I try to orientate her. Despite being familiar with all bars and concert venues of Seattle, the music-related jokes I tell her usually don’t get much credit. Any of my friends would understand it and response it with something similar and I know at least one person who would crack a joke about the major-minor duality but Amber’s not a musician, I have to accept the fact that her brain is wired in a different way than mine.

“Oh right. I probably can’t remember it since every time I hear the opening chords of it, I instantly fall asleep.”

“Nevermind…” I sigh. “So you haven’t even watched the TV performance of Hot Rock Star Boyfriend?” I jump back to the original topic of my call. I wish my voice didn’t sound that disappointed, I don’t like to harass anyone for feedback but I’m really curious about her opinion.

“Of course I watched it, I recorded it, what did you think?” she answers quickly and I slap myself mentally for assuming my girlfriend isn’t interested in what I’m doing.

“And…?”

“You were amazing, as always.” she says without hesitation, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t know… Ed’s voice is getting more and more tired… plus, at the opening riff of Porch he still ignores the rhythm I play, I mean, I only follow the pace he gives and still, in the moment I begin to play he always starts to accelerate… I’m always afraid that everything falls apart and…”

“Oh, come on… even if it happens like you said, no one dares argue with Dave, you can rely on him… so the chaos only lasts for seconds… But I’m pretty sure the majority of your audience doesn’t even notice it.”

“But I noticed it… Mike’s solo in Alive totally blew my mind but that fucked-up mix… I don’t know where the sound staff put their ears, maybe into their asses since it sounded as if he’d played from Seattle…” I huff on.

“Baby… do you think an average American family sitting in front of a shitty TV device, munching Kentucky chicken wings would hear that Mike wasn’t mixed in the most optimal way?”

“I heard it…” I grunt at her. “I mean… You’re right, most people can’t hear the difference and I’m a perfectionist, I know but I only try to lead this fuckin’ band… and if the band leader lowers his expectations, it’s already a dead case… I can’t pretend I’m totally satisfied with our performance. I can’t understand either why he insisted on playing his Les Paul in Porch… Les Pauls are perfect for hacks like me but Mike’s virtuosity deserves the clear sound of Strat and…”

“Again, if you think about average listeners… but you know what? Due to my Hot Rock Star Boyfriend I learned how to distinguish between a Les Paul and a Stratocaster… based on their look of course, my ears need more exercising but one thing I know: it’s impossible to decide between them. It’s like comparing Chanel No 5 with Givenchy’s L’Enterdit. Both are top perfumes. Armani or Saint-Laurent. Prada or Manolo Blahnik. Adidas or Nike. I could go on all night.” I know you could and I also know what I could do with you if we could finally spend a night together… You would be too busy to list fashion brands, that’s for sure.

“Stones or Beatles.” I throw in just to steer her back to our original topic, although I exactly know that all the people I hang out with can decide for one or another band and defend them until their last breath. But I really appreciate her attempt to find common dilemmas in our professions. Yes, she’s great and it is me who has too high expectations towards her. “But what I’m really concerned about is the incident that happened to Jeff.” I spit out the most embarrassing point of last night.

“What kind of incident? I don’t think the hat he was wearing was more hideous than usual…”

“She makes evil remarks about our bassist, that’s my girl!” I giggle, and to be honest, hearing her joking at Jeff’s expense is a balm to my soul. I’ve seen pictures of her exes and all of them rather resemble to him than to me. Tall, athletic types from whom you would assume they were the stars of high school or college football teams, dated the captain of the cheerleader group and were elected to king at their senior prom. Apart from the fact that Amber was thrown out from the cheerleader group since she had been caught smoking weed. “But joke aside, he accidentally tore out the cable of his bass while bouncing around at Porch… we watched the video record after the show and it was pretty clear that the bass part was missing. The staff promised to fix it by mixing in bass patterns from other parts of the song but I’m skeptical… tabloids are always looking for scandals, I don’t want to read headlines claiming Ed lip syncs and we only pretend to play…”

“Sweetie… you’re driving yourself into paranoia. I don’t want to repeat myself but I’m sure that it wasn’t as obvious as you think…”

“It was the most…”

“I couldn’t spot anything, but I must admit I couldn’t take my eyes off you… and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one…” she purrs and I feel weakness in my knees as I start involuntarily fantasizing about her whispering into my ears straddling on my lap… “You looked so good, I love when you’re wearing your hair in half ponytail… ” she lowers her voice and I desperately try to think about something disappointing to avoid awkward processes happening in my pants. She doesn’t even understand my jokes about music. She hasn’t seen my favorite movies. And however much I’m flattered, the only thing she got from our SNL performance was my look. Which is basically a huge compliment since she’s a fashion expert… And she’s hot and awesome in bed and… SHIT, this method doesn’t work at all, luckily I’m wearing tight denims… I need something different, something naturalistic, for example… I should try to imagine her sitting on the toilet or throwing up or… Jesus, I feel like a perv, this is disgusting…

“Stoney? Are you okay?”

“Ugh… Argh… I am, sure, why?”

“You’re groaning like a dying walrus… Speaking of animals, I almost forgot to mention the most important thing.”

“…that would be…?” I ask back and I realize happily that my breathing settled back to the normal pace and my circulatory system is also willing to serve my brain again.

“I’m done with that beast.” she announces in a cold voice. Ouch. I should have known that it wouldn’t work.

“You should give her one more chance, she’s the cutest kitten in the world, she’s just wary with new people…”

“Wary? That monster tries to kill me every single time I go to feed her. Plus, we’ve been dating for ten months; you can’t say anymore that I should wait until she accepts me. She just won’t do it and you know it too. She hates me.” she pouts and I know she’s right. Red, my one and a half year old female cat (with magnificent, soft, red fur after which I named her) isn’t an easy case. She acts strangely with my female friends… okay, only with certain female friends… okay, her behavior follows a pretty much consistent pattern so I should have known that Amber wouldn’t be an exception either but I wanted to give them a chance.

“Okay… if it’s that intense as you say…” I begin unwillingly.

“Intense? Intense??? My arm is full of fuckin’ scratches and last time she even bit me. What if I’ve caught rabies?”

“I think you’re overreacting, she received all the recommended vaccination, she’s not a stray cat who eats rats from dumpsters…”

“I don’t care, I’m done, find someone else who is willing to struggle with that furious fur ball. Ask your sisters or whatever.” she declares and I already know this tone of her, any further argumentation is totally unnecessary since it’d be like talking to a brick wall.

“Babe… you know too that my whole family is allergic to cat fur, it wasn’t a coincidence I asked you… plus, I trust you and you can get on well with anyone so…” I make a last attempt.

“With anyone, except her. You should ask your friends.” she goes on softer.

“My friends… those drunk, fuckin’ guys couldn’t even keep a cactus alive, let alone Red…”

“Krisha?”

“Krisha… maybe I can talk her into it…” Actually, I know I could convince her anytime but she’s always had my back, I didn’t want to take one more burden on her, things have become so fast and she’s drowning in work at Curtis Management. But it isn’t a bad idea at all, if my theory is correct, Red is harmless for her. “Okay, I’ll call her. And please, try not to poison her until then.” I give in finally.

“You know I’m not a jealous type, I would never poison Krisha.”

“Hey, you could be jealous, a little bit at least… now that I’m a rock star…”

“A hot rock star…”

“I literally have to kick girls out of my room, they are queueing in the floor right now too…”

“Baby, I don’t want to make you sad but they are probably only waiting to get in the women’s restroom…”

“You couldn’t deny you’re my girlfriend.” I laugh at her retort at lean back on my bad. God, I wish she was here…

***

„We both say it out loud on the three, okay? One-two-three… Stones!” Mike shouts.

“Beatles!” yells Judy at the same time. I can hear every single word of them, I’m lying on my bunk bed pretending reading, while they are discussing the best bands of rock history at the small table of our tour bus. Beth suggested that I should leave some space for her so I don’t join them… But we’re on tour, it’s inevitable to be pretty often in the same room as her, right?

“You can’t be serious! Stones? STONES?” Judy exclaims indignantly. “Mr. Mick “I Have the Largest Mouth In the World” Jagger and Keith “I Would Even Snort The Ashes Of My Own Father” Richards?” I bite my lip not to burst out in laughter of the hilarious thought that actually makes sense since it’s about a drug lab on legs…

“Hey, I could ask the same… the cheesy mop tops who became wannabe hippies later?” Mike slaps back.

“I warn you I have several reasons in my argumentation, this is not the first time I’ve had to defend them, inexplicably, Effie opts for Stones too. BUT! Beatles are real humanists at least. Which is not the case at the band which couldn’t even find a proper band name without stealing someone else’s idea.”

“They didn’t steal it, I’m sure it was kind of a tribute…”

“Oh come on, Brian Jones couldn’t find out anything else during a phone call with a journalist. He glanced a Muddy Waters record on the floor and just read the title of it.” she cuts our lead guitarist off with disarming confidence. She’s pretty passionate when it’s about defending her opinion, I wonder if she’s also that passionate when…

“Early Beatles songs make me puke and the later ones are unlistenable nonsenses!”

“Nonsenses??? “Jumpin’ Jack Flash is a gas gas gas”; does that sound like something that means anything at all?”

“Oh yeah, because Ob-la-di, ob-la-da makes so much sense!” I’m shaking of repressed giggle, Judy and Mike should quarrel about musical topics more often, it’s like a free theater play.

“Okay, Mike, let’s calm down. Let’s talk like civilized, mature adults. I don’t like the Stones, but I appreciate them, truly. Rock music wouldn’t be the same without them. Even if I’m amazed how their bassist could help killing himself during the recording session of Sympathy for the Devil, making the bassist play the same line over and over again for like six and a half minutes is mean, it’s one of the evilest crimes that have been done to musicians since Ravel composed Bolero, like, I know percussionists who became alcoholics due to that piece but that’s not the point…”

“Excuse me Judy, how many times is “naah-naah-naah-nah-nah-nah-naaah” sung in Hey Jude?” Mike teases her with false innocence.

“…as I’ve said, I acknowledge their contribution to rock history but I can’t like them. I mean, how could I like a band that is a moral disaster?” Judy brings the debate to a philosophical level when I see Stone approaching between the beds.

“Hi guys… laudetur, sister…” he reacts to Judy’s rhetorical question and as I turn on my stomach and peak out from my book, I see her closing her eyes with a deep sigh for a few seconds before going on.

“They played a show only two days after the death of their guitarist! What kinds of people do something like this? Oh, wait, I know. Megalomaniac, greedy people who organized an own rock festival because they couldn’t accept that Woodstock became something huge and they weren’t there and who were too cheap to arrange things properly and thought it would be a great idea to hire a hippie-hater motorcycle gang as security personnel. Oh, of course, paying them in alcohol and drugs was also a part of this remarkable idea and we know the result. And when the tragedy happened, they just fled into their helicopter and left the scene. The greatest rock band of all times, sure.” I give up forcing myself to look at my book, her intense flailing and her various and unique grimaces demand all my attention.

“Okay, Judy. I didn’t want to do this. I swear. But you forced me and I warn you it’ll hurt. A lot.” Mike announces in a threatening voice.” Unlike Beatles… Stones’ members never encouraged the musical attempts of their tone-deaf, artist wives. Ha!” he adds victoriously, seeing the gasping, outraged girl.

“Touché!” Stone comments the result of the match leaning to the fridge with folded arms.

“Nobody asked you! What if you were able not to poke your nose into everything once in a lifetime?” Judy directs all her anger at our other guitarist.

“Hey, be gentler with him, his nose is so big that he doesn’t even have to poke it into anything, things just come and collide with it.” I peek out from my cover.

“Exactly, it arrives five minutes earlier to everywhere than me myself.” my target confirms snickering.

“We were hanging out so good without you… Mike and I were fighting peacefully, Jeff was reading…”

“Let me inform you about something, Pippi Longstocking: Jeff has read that book for three years and I haven’t seen him turning one single page in the last two years, I just can’t recall one single occasion…”

“Maybe because you can’t even recall what happened ten seconds ago…” she defends me fixing her braid with a nervous move and I only shrug with an amused and satisfied smile to Stone’s surprised glance at me. Did you think I asked her out only because I was bored?

“Actually, that’s exactly what I want to know. I opened the case of my acoustic guitar only to realize it stinks from cheap men’s deodorant! What the hell did you do to it after you’d borrowed it? Guitars don’t sweat…” Stone starts confessing the ­ who knows why – petrified Mike who jumps from the seat and makes a few nervous steps before he stays pinned between the beds, next to me.

“Mike? I’m waiting for your answer. What happened to my guitar?” Stone follows him with his gaze and turns towards us expecting an explanation. And at this point, I find myself in the middle of an incomprehensible charade game.

“What happened is…” Mike begins slowly, sending begging looks at Judy who is now standing behind Stone’s back with the same, terrified face. “While I played your guitar, I was… I was…”

Judy lifts her fist to her mouth a few times in quick succession and seeing Mike’s still clueless expression, she starts making exaggerated, chewing moves with her jaw.

“Eats?” Mike rather questions than claims. “…Eat…ing…Eating!!! That’s it, I was eating.”

“I see. And tell me, do denatured alcohol and LPG taste good?” Stone goes on leaning closer with a suggestive gaze of a cobra ready to strike.

“Ahahaha, that’s good, you’re always so funny, Stoney!” Mike lets out the worst fake laughter I’ve ever heard while Judy starts making swimming moves.

“I was swimming too…” Mike makes an attempt to develop the story but Judy shakes her head and sends the code of eating again.

“No, he was eating…” I find myself in the scene due to unknown circumstances, gluing my eyes at Judy who’s now waving with her hands next to her ears…gills! Noticing the direction of my stare, Stone turns back lightning fast but before he could realize what’s happening, I yell my guess forcing him to look at us again. “FISH!”

“That’s exactly what I was gonna say too, you don’t have to shout, Jeff.” Mike remarks with sudden tranquility. “I was swimming in happiness since I was eating fish.”

“Stinky fish.” I point out at Judy’s signal who’s picking her wrinkled nose between her thumb and index finger.

“Every sort of fish is stinky.” Stone furrows his eyebrows.

“But that was particularly stinky, I think it was already rotten.” I glance at Mike for help who seems to get my message.

“Oh yeah, it was disgusting, I almost puked of its smell.”

“So, you were glad to eat fish that was stinky and rotten and you almost threw up but you still ate it? You’re a sick animal, Michael.” Stone sums up.

“He spat it in the loo.” I make an attempt to make the story more credible and save what remained of the dignity of out guitar hero.

“But what does this grossness have to do with my guitar?”

“Mike just… didn’t want to give it back to you without doing anything against that terrible smell!” Judy blurts out, which finally explains the concept of her mime performance.

“He succeeded, he gave it back with another terrible smell.” Stone shakes his head. “He should have sprayed Jeff’s hats too… nevermind. Not that I believed this fairy tale… I don’t know what you did to my guitar, Mike, I don’t even want to, but next time you want to borrow it, I’m gonna cover all holes on it, I swear.” he mumbles and this time I can’t help chuckling since I must admit, Stone’s fears aren’t completely unfounded.

“If I was you, I wouldn’t laugh… you should rather make up a story about how we hired you from the live band of Milli Vanilli because something tells me you’ll receive a few curious questions from journalists…”

“Jesus, move on finally, it’s not as a big deal as you think! I talked to Effie and she hadn’t even notice it until I mentioned it to her. And she’s got good eyes and ears for it, she’s a black belt rock video analyzer.”

“The Camdens are satisfied, I’m flattered.” Stone pats himself on the shoulder sending a killer look.

“I’m not saying it was flawless. Sorry Mike, but Les Paul wasn’t the best choice… The sound crew of SNL didn’t take Brett’s advice so you sounded as if you had played in a plastic tunnel.”

“Yes, I felt something was…”

“Don’t even listen to her, Mike, she’s spent two weeks with us and she already thinks she’s an expert, unbelievable…” Stone defends Mike who reacts with surprised blinks to the unsolicited support.

“…and you had to fudge the opening riffs of Porch but it’s not your fault, Ed can’t feel the pace you give to him but I have a few ideas how to correct it…” Judy goes on enthusiastically.

“Not my fault? NOT MY FAULT??? Miss Can’t Be Wrong, you’re so gracious, I’m not even worthy of looking at you!” Stone fakes a theatrical cry, covering his eyes with his forearm.

“Stone, she’s right, we all know it. And you can mock her even from your deathbed but it won’t change the fact that unlike us, she’s a real musician.”

“Mike, don’t…” she cuts in flushing quietly but it’s too late.

“Sorry, I realized he was right. We should use your competences. I’ve already had a few ideas, how, I can’t wait for it.” Stone flashes a diabolical smile at her before he leaves, grabbing the guitar in question on the way.

“Holy crap, that was close…” Mike sighs as he collapses on his bunk bed.

“What exactly?” Judy turns to him for explanation with her hands on his hips.

“I thought you knew it… Mike, would you enlighten us?” I spread my hands.

“Ugh. Judy needed a guitar… But I couldn’t lend mine since one of the strings was broken… So I asked Stone claiming it was me who needed it… and I gave it further to her.” he nods towards the girl. “But she was concerned… you know, if Stone could find out she played it. And I thought it made sense, I didn’t want to get her in trouble… she said he was like a deerhound and… it gave me an idea… I mean, I thought dogs can be deceived by confusing their smell… and…”

“Oh, Jesus…” Judy slowly sinks next to Mike, her face is buried in her palms.

“… and I thought it could work with him too.”

I don’t even try to hide my smile that turns quickly into snickering… and it proves to be contagious since Judy lets out a few short giggles too and in a few seconds, we’re both whining of laughter.

“Hey, in that moment, it seemed to be a good idea!” says Mike defensively. “Next time I’m going to rub his guitar with stinky French cheese.” he smiles with us finally.

“But why didn’t you ask me?” I ask the obvious question.

“Well I…”

“I didn’t know you have an acoustic guitar here…” Judy answers interrupting Mike but I’d swear she’s already seen me playing it… or not?

“And I… I… I… just wanted to make Stone stop playing those same three chords with whom he’s tortured us for days.”

“Actually, I like it…” Judy remarks smiling involuntarily. I like how her face lights up every time someone comes up with anything related to music.

“And why did you need it?” I keep asking, not missing the occasion to snoop around her a bit.

“I just wanted to… improve my guitar skills, that’s all.”

“One more reason to ask me.”

“But you’re a bassist.” she frowns puzzled.

“Bass players are human beings too! And okay, when I tried to teach you how to play the bass, you ended up teaching me… but you can ask me anything. Anytime.” I stare into her eyes to make clear I mean it. So much for keeping my distance…

***

I should do something to my hair. I get bored with it every single year… I have it cut, I let it grow, I dye it… yes, an extreme color, that’s what I need. It’s not really about my look, I’m satisfied with it… or rather, I just don’t care about it at all. This whole hair thing is rather about my inner need for changes… I want something to happen… anything… I use my hair to express my current mood… and I need something wild now.

I lean my forehead against the cool surface of the mirror on the medicine cabinet; it feels good. I’ve been thinking the whole day… That conversation in the dressing room fucked me up… just like every occasion when he talks about his past. I’d known about the pregnancy, he told me the whole story many years ago… when we realized that the thing between us started turning into something serious, we shared our past with each other, including unpleasant memories… but still… the fact that your boyfriend could have been a dad and it is not you who’s the other party in the situation… even if we’ve haven’t felt ready yet to become parents… ugh, it’s like a punch in the stomach.

And that girl… I know he’s over her, it was ages ago but still… I shouldn’t feel like this about her, our relationship is stable, balanced, we’re equal partners, somehow Oceans expresses the depth of the feelings we have for each other perfectly … deep and unwavering… and yet, persistent, developing and endless, just like waves. But Black… it’s something different. It’s that kind of song that can’t be sung without the singer getting totally naked, Ed has to die a little bit in front of everyone every single time they perform it, otherwise it isn’t worth shit. And he relives that pain again and again… and I still can’t help feeling envious of her, the first real love of him, isn’t it stupid? Being envious of a memory, a painful memory, just because it’s so intense… how could I compete with that? Will I ever be able to make him feel that way? I mean, I don’t want to hurt him, ever but…

“Are you okay?” I start at his warm baritone as he enters the bathroom.

“I’m fine… I just can’t get used to going to bed so late every night.”

“You don’t have to attend every single show, you’ve heard me singing more than enough.” he cups my face in his hands. “You’ve still got your own life, we just happen to live in a tour bus and hotels for a few weeks.”

“But I want to…”

“We’re the same five sweaty and stinky guys bouncing on the stage but if that’s what you want…” he flashes a smile at me before softly kissing my forehead. That smile… that irresistible, infectious smile with all of its features… yes, everything began with that smile, you see it once and you can’t get it out of your head anymore. It’s too bad I’ve been scarcely able to get lost in it in these days…

“I like sweaty and stinky guys…” I mumble as I press my lips in the crook of his neck. It only takes seconds to get drunk with the scent of his freshly showered skin and I gently move on to his bare chest while my hands are wandering towards the hem of the towel around his waist…

“Yesterday, at the dressing room…” he reaches for the toothpaste and the toothbrush behind my back. I exhale against his chest acknowledging the lack of reaction and I also grab my toothbrush. I wait as he doses the toothpaste for both of us carefully squeezing the tube. I don’t feel like saying anything until he makes clear what he’s about to ask me, it’s terrifying how he can read my mind, why do we have to talk at all if he can find out everything for me? “… It felt like Judy was hiding from something… or someone…”

Oh, so it’s about that thing… I’m so naive, how could I think it’s about me… Yes, I wanted to finish that restroom talk because Judy’s answers didn’t seem to be convincing enough to me but of course, she finished the conversation by running away, as always. I put the toothbrush into my mouth since brushing the teeth is a perfect excuse for ignoring questions. Okay, he hasn’t asked anything yet but that’s typical of him… He drops hints, makes remarks being sure he knows what’s going on. And he’s mostly right and knows the answer before posing the question and that’s the most annoying in it.

“We should just let her find out what she wants.” he skips a few logic steps and draws the conclusion after spitting the foam in the sink. I keep brushing my teeth tenaciously and feel his amused gaze on me as he takes place on the edge of the bath tub opposite me. I wash my mouth, dry my hands and step towards the door but he pulls me back lacing his fingers gently between mines. He examines my face squinting up at me, still with that damn smile on his face. I roll my eyes since I catch myself involuntarily copying his expression and let him pulling me closer by my hips.

“First of all: it is not me who doesn’t let her find out what she wants, it’s your bassist who chases her like a hungry wolf, so it should be your job to tell him that he should cool himself down.” I poke him in the chest with my index finger at the keywords.

“But we’re guys and guys don’t talk about emotional stuff.” he grins at his own macho cliché joke.

“So I’m basically just doing the dirty work for you. Plus, if we waited for Judy to make a move, they’d still only eye with each other at your 80th birthday party.”

“And why would be that so bad? My birthday party has to be a decent event, no smooching and space cakes can only be served on china plates.” he smacks a playful peck on my lips.

“All I’ve done is just a little… promotion for the skater guy… just to keep her curiosity awake.” I stick to my opinion.

“And what if she’s not curious at all?”

“Bullshit. All that Karrie told me about her proves she’s totally lonely and needs a reliable partner in her life. And Jeff would be a perfect choice.”

“Wait-wait-wait, don’t begin to organize their wedding… What if Jeff’s not her type? Or what if she wants to practice her constitutional right for becoming a crazy old cat lady?”

“Well, Jeff doesn’t hate cats so…”

“Why did I think I could convince my stubborn woman?” he shakes his head accepting the defeat and grabs my backside patting it a few times before leaving me in the bathroom alone again.

When I sneak back in the room, it’s completely dark so I stay standing at the door for a few seconds until my eyes get used to the dark. As I slip in the bed, I can feel his leg occupying my place too… I’d bet he’s not sleeping, he’s playing the Starfish Game. Okay, boy, if you want to play, I’m in. I try to tear his leg from the bed but he flexes all his muscles so I lean my back to the wall and use my own legs to push his one away.

“Hey, I’m trying to sleep, why do you have to be so rude?” he mutters against the pillow.

“I don’t share my place with anyone, not even with you, don’t even think about it.” I crawl under the blanket still trying to keep his leg away. I turn on my other side and touch the wall with my foot; this time I prevent him from getting closer by creating a barricade with my back. He rolls over and throws his arm around me capturing me in the tightest squeeze. Although his not tall at all, his athletic upper body covers me as a human blanket and there’s no place I’d rather be… After a few minutes my shoulder starts feeling uncomfortable under the weight of the muscular surfer arm so I position myself opposite him and snuggle to his chest greedily inhaling him. He reacts immediately by pulling me as close as possible and his fingers gladly dig into my hair, gently playing with the strands.

“Hey… Eddie… I’m drowning…” I chuckle against his tee.

“I don’t care…” he tightens the embrace all the more. My hand takes it as a green light and slowly slips into his boxers seeking, teasing…

“Mhm… I’m too tired…” he gently pulls my hand out of his underwear and places it back on his hips. “In the morning…”

Great. In the morning. Sure.

[zebraslovescupcakestoo]

Golden Eyes Chapter 26

I was meeting my ancestor, who she was the first who had the 'sight' abilities and she was NOT looking anything like that picture in the books. I mean, sure that history doesn't exactly depict the image one hundred percent accurate...

“I'm... I'm really surprised to meet you... This is new to me.” I told her. She chuckled and she then ruffled my hair. “If I could communicate more than this, I would have helped you sooner. But at least now I can help you with your sight and who you will soon be facing. Not just that demon you've sworn to take down.”

“Oh? You mean the people who took my mother's life? Should I look out for them too?”

She shook her head. “He's Apophis' successor.” I looked at her confused. Who's this new character that adds more pressure in my life?

“You'll see him soon enough. But you shouldn't have any problem now with that abilities that you've started to learn how to use your 'sight' properly. If you can complete your training, you wouldn't need those rings anymore. These can only help when you aren't.” She showed my ring.

“You're telling me if I do complete my 'sight' training, I wouldn't need these anymore and I'm not going in a coma state if I took them off?”

“Mostly, you only keep them for your descendants when you'll have them.” She smiled at that and I blushed a bit. That's not going to happened anytime soon and I wanted to do it the right way.

I changed the subject. “B-b-but what are we supposed to do now? I mean, I need to be back in 'reality' before anybody sees me and thinks I'm in a coma again.” I am probably still 'sleeping' on my bed right now.

“Worried about your nephews and your friends?” I nodded. “Well, I wouldn't take long. I wanted to show you this.” She showed some sort of large brace on her left arm. She did something to activate a small punching knife from it. “This was one of my weapon of choice and a basic weapon to learn.” I got a bit nervous on that subject. I may have 'injured' my opponents, but I never once killed anyone... even in all of my short police detective experiences.“What about my whip? Can I just-” She pressed my lips with one finger. “You'll need more than one technique if you'll be facing some foes that 'knows' that. I can tell from your eyes that you never did a kill. It must have been the times that changes the methods on your people's morale. However...” She then puts it away. “If you give your enemies a chance, you'll might regret it and that might not be your life that will pay the price.” I gasped. She's isn't wrong on that term...

“But for now, you'll need to practice on this weaponry. Just for self-protection. I can see in your life that one of your friends can help you with that.” She then gestured her hand and then there was that same golden, hieroglyph encrypted door when I last leave this 'sub-conscious' room. “I will summon you once you've learn how yo use that weapon. I'll reward you with another ability once you've mastered it.”

I got a bit confused on it. “Wh-wait! I don't know anybody with that kind of armed bracer. None of my friends even have that kind of weapon. Who is that person you're telling me to see?” She then escorted me to the door. “You're very close to him and you'll see him soon enough.” She told me as I then started to see a bright light flashed before I woke up...

Once I cane to, I got up from my bed and I was back in my reality. I just met one of my ancestors and I need to be trained how to use that weapon bracer from a friend I know... Which I don't think it's possible because they don't use THAT kind of thing. One was Woody for his knife skills that's competitive to Bendy's, but it's more like in 'pieces' than the whole thing assembled. The other was Sammuel who had a REALLY good match, but his was a hook shot and needle attacks.

I don't think I can count Sheba and Kitty unless I intentionally pissed them off and they're holding a large kitchen knife. Never I'll set them off unless I had it with life.

But if I can't find 'that' friend, I won't make any progress and I'll be doomed to wear the ring for the rest of my life and not going to have-!!! No! No! Too soon! For THAT and to give up my search. I'll start with my first, two bros I can rely if she's talking about anyone of them. Then I'll see where I can go from there.

I looked at the clock and it was a quarter before three. The kids will be home soon and then we'll have to start packing to our new 'temporary' place. They were worried at first on what we're going to do, but I told them it was my job to take care of that and they shouldn't worry about it.  But I can tell that they still wanted to help me... I was the same as them at that age when my father had problems too...

I then heard the phone ringing and I suddenly remembered that I had to give my answer to a certain someone. I immediately rushed but carefully get to the phone in the kitchen just in time.

“Hello?- Yes, it's me. I'm sorry that I took a bit long.- No, don't worry. I'm fine.- Yes. I did thought about it over at noon and I'll accept that job.”

-------

The very next day, the Jewelry exhibition show was then on full swing and I was in my best suit.

The offer Mickey gave me was a security supervision. I was to be on a look out for anyone suspicious and to order my 'partners' to get it done if I do. It's for two reasons why he gave me that position aside for pocket money in my 'unemployment' situation at the moment.

One I'm still recovering and two I can't make any 'legal' arrest without my detective badge. So I had to have either Sheba or Woody to make that in my place.

Kitty was asked to be one of their models and I was surprised they did! I wish I could say the same for the dog show that was now cancelled... However, Mickey somewhat pulled off something because the remaining contestants were all granted to be on this show for their new dog collar. Sam thought it would be best for Kitty to be with his dog, Tiara, to join her instead of him. He's not much of a center of attention kind of guy much except when he's in court.

The kids are doing well at a acquaintance’s place where Mickey recommended in the Chinatown district so they're safe for now...

The evening party was going well and I was on my guard. “Alright, tell us.” Sheba asked me straight. “What?” I asked in confusion. “There's something on your mind you wanted to ask but you couldn't bring yourself to say it. Is this about 'that?'” She batted her eyes twice indicating about my 'sight' abilities. I really don't want to say it, but I have to trust them if I wanted them to do the same in return. “Well, it is about 'that,' but now is not the right time to-”

“Hi, we're back. Sheba, I got yours and Woody got yours, Felix.” Kitty and Woody got back from their scavenger hunt at the banquet. Kitty still had that Navy blue gown with her white floof coat that covered her shoulders and her hair was all curly in a ponytail. She looks so beautiful...

“Did we miss something?” Woody asked us. “Felix had 'that' problem that came up.” Sheba blinked twice and they quietly, gasped in surprised. “How long did you had it and why didn't you tell us sooner?” Kitty looked at me with concern.

“Wait Wait! Hold up! Is that thing with double blinking is like a code for these?” I winked my eyebrows indicating my eyes.

“We just wanted to respect not telling. But enough of that, Sam will be with us shortly and we can all talked about it ASAP.” Woody told me.

“I can't do that. No wait! WE can't do that! We're in a middle of our jobs and what if something happens to the guests? Can we just save this for later?” It's not that I don't like being cared for by my friends, it's just now is not the time for a group meeting.

“Felix, you-” Kitty was then cut off by a man who wore an expensive white but slightly grey attorney suit, with dark brown shoes, an expensive silver watch, his light brown hair was well combed and he had that look on his face that said: Crooked snob! “Ah, you must be that Felix Lockheart I heard a lot about you from your buddies at the station you used to work there.”

Why do I feel like I'm not going to like him much on first impression?

“It's a shame that you just got fired for just doing your job. But I must say, there's plenty of other job opportunities for the working class. I'm pretty sure somebody with your... decent background will have one in no time. At least your reason of being fired was only the timing issue. If it was a corrupted issue... it's will be a bit too hard if you know what I mean.” He vaguely says that I'm just lucky Bendy didn't put any dirt or false evidence on me yet.

“Er... thanks, but I'm sure I can manage on my own and-”

“Oh and speaking of which, I also heard a rumor about you meddling with, ugh.... 'other' people. May I asked about them? I would 'like' to know.” He gestured me to something I might be telling him about the people in the Chinatown district. But I can just tell from his looks that he's someone not to take lightly.

So I just told him this politely. “The people I've met and 'interrogated' are just like us. Everyday normal people with different culture. They're very nice once you get to know them better yourself.”

“Yes, yes. But I'm just wondering from 'your' perspective. I may not look like it, but I'm a 'very' busy man. Won't you at least describe a bit for me?” He was being persistent like that deceased creepy guy the other day at the station... and I started to HATE this guy already.

“Evening, Jerry. Who are you trying to harass this time?” Sam spoke behind him and that jolt him. So he's that 'Jerry' guy Sam keeps talking about in his work stories.

“Oh... Sammuel. I forgot you were here tonight. Must I remind you that my name is Jerarrd Fournier Lefebvre? That 'Jerry' sounded too common...” He was annoyed and looked straight at him.

“Nobody cares and leave the kid alone. He's got more than enough sh!t on his plate at the moment.” Sam told him straight in his face without shame and serious.

“Vulgar as usual. I think I'll leave you and your 'little' friends for now. I need to do some 'overtime' in my social life. You should at least try it once too.” He excused himself and left until Sam responded. “Yeah, if I had that kind of dirty money, I will take your advice.” He 'hmped' on that response.

“Sam, you can't just say whatever you want like that. What if he's gonna start noticing you?” I scolded him.

“Trust me, I know this douche. He's one of those people in Bendy's pocket and probably had to suck on either Boris or Boston's d**k to have that latest silver watch he's wearing tonight.” He took a bite on one of the bite sized piece of cheese after that.

“Sam... Please. Not while we're eating at least.” I begged him not to spoil our appetite and he responded. “If I'm really 'that' mean, I would have said Bendy's because small objects can cause chocking hazards.” He took a sip from his fruit punch drink while Woody nearly choked his out. The girls shy away from laughing so that they wouldn't 'show' their reaction in their view. I just face palmed with embarrassment. “Hey, if they can sh!t talk on us, I don't see why we can't do the same.” He was brutally honest but I had to tell him. “Can you just please save it for another time when we're not in 'this' social gathering?”

“Can't promise the guaranteed on that. Why are you cats doing over here?” He asked the girls once they've calmed themselves. “Felix had 'that' problem that he need to share with us.” Kitty blinked twice and she spoke it softly. That made his eyes widen and said. “Alright, we're all done by eight in half an hour, so we'll be at that new coffee shop that reopened I've found out. I'm driving there and Felix, don't leave any details on this.”

“W-What? So soon? What about the kids?” I can't just make them wait THAT long. “Don't worry about them. They'll be fine. We're not gonna force you to tell all of it, but you have to tell us. We're your friends, remember? We'll understand.” Kitty patted my hair a bit.

I sighed. “Just... promise me not to take it personally...”

---- Time skipping by a fresh brew of hot cocoa!----

The place Sam told us was quite unique despite it's basic designs. We were the only ones there and the shop was supposed to be closed at that time, but Sam somehow got us a reservation since he helped the owner once so it was a favor thing.

We all had our coffee ready when I then decided to talk about what happened yesterday... Starting with my parents... I told them about my mother first and then how I found out that my father was married and got divorced from his wife before 'she' came along a few years later. Then I told them about a half-sister I never knew until now about the nephews and then I've finally told them about that 'dream' thing.

“Whoa! The more I hear about it, the more you look like that hero from that fantasy book I've read back at grandma's place. This is so exciting!” Sheba grinned her smile widely.

“Sheba, this is not like those stories. I mean for one thing, how many are those with two nephews he has to take care of after his father got killed in a horrible tragedy and found out about his half-sister who IS the mother but is deceased for the past four years?” Kitty told her. “Felix, I can't believed your father would keep this from you... not just about your half sister...”

“I don't think he intended to keep it from me that long, but he was sort of stalling and thought that I would have hated him until it was too late... and I admit that I could have understand if he would have just told me years before...” I reasoned myself to them.

“He's right. If one of my parents had to gave me up as a baby because of some crime organization chasing them down, I would have understand.” Woody sympathies. “Of course, I would be looking everywhere for them, but that's not really the main problem here. What are you going to tell your nephews?” I got shocked. I didn't exactly thought about it this far. “I can't just say that now! They barely remembered who they used to live with and I don't know more than what I've just said... I don't want anybody say any of this to them but me. I have to make thing right again not just for them, but for my half-sister and my father.”

“But Felix, these were your father's mistakes. It's not your fault that your half-sister got in an accident and she left the kids behind. Neither was your fault that you we're his 'illegitimate' son after his wife divorce him years before. You can't blame yourself for any of this.” Kitty puts her arms around my shoulder.

“I know it's not, but I can't leave these things as they are. Inky and Winky are all I have left in my family. I can't just tell them that their mother got killed and that's all I knew. They'll be heartbroken for a long time... I have to put this family together.” If I'm not going to do it, nobody else will.

“Does that include before that 'training course' with your 'sight' abilities?” Sam questioned across the table from me. “I understand you put your friends and family first most of the time, but don't forget you need to take care of yourself once in a while too. Especially with that special x-ray power that you're going to use more frequently from now on. I think me and Woody might help you with that weapon of choice. Mine is the closest and Woody's knife skill can make both halves.”

“Sammy's right. You're not going to get better if you're stuck on the same level. Now speaking of helping you, I did found a part time job at that Irish bar in Chinatown from an old friend. It's not quite the same like the police job, but at least it gives you some support until you find a full-time.” Woody offered me a job in a pub. I was touched.

“Ah, thanks for reminding me Woody. Félix, I also wanted to offer a part-time job as my assistant. Not just for paper work but also field investigating. With my attorney badge, I can legally investigate and I can bring a partner if I have one. I can give you some work too for support.” That's true. Attorneys have the rights to investigate crime scenes as long as they get supervision from the police. I was even touched deeper... “Guys... You're too much.”

“Of course it's not. We're your friends. We help each other. Now, apart from that, I'll help you with that bracer thing once you're settle in your new place.” Sam indicated.

“But Sam, you don't use knives, you use hook shots and needles projectiles.” Sheba pointed out.

“My weapon of choice was altered and based from that, it's not THAT different. Besides, I can use my hook shot like the punching knife with the right mechanic, believe it or not, and I'M doing his training this time, Sheba.” Sam responded to her.

“What's that suppose to mean?” Sheba glared at him. “I'm saying I'm the one who's going to help him with that first problem, just the two of us and probably Woody when he comes back. Last time YOU 'helped' his training, it was always late after dark and he was dead tired every time. You almost make him miss his date one time.” Sam shot back at her. “But they still get there in time for the movie!” Sheba defended herself. “Yeah and he fell asleep after the opening credit. You sometimes take things too far. Again, it's not like those fantasy hero books, he has a REAL life too, ya know?” Sam replied and then they argued.

“Hey! He needs all the training he can get! We're taking about that no-good Bendy De Mon here! He needs to be at the top of his game and I'm only trying to push it to the limit.”

“Well your 'push it to the limit' went overboard most of the time. He's not a machine and he needs a break once in a while.”

“I do give him a break and I know he's human! I just helping him to get back up quicker.”

“Yeah, when he lays down for two seconds when you were feeling 'generous'. Then you make him work too hard for the next two hours.”

“I did not! You're just too easy on him. Real bad guys don't give second chances!”

“I know that, but that doesn't mean you have to run him down every single time! You know you can be a bit-”

And they were bickering back and forth while I chatted with Kitty and Woody.

“Well, I'm alright with teaching a couple of trick once I get back from Scotland. Although if you want, you can get the basic knife techniques from the boss at that pub. I know him and he's pretty handy with that too. But don't worry! You'll be practicing with wooden spoons, so you're not going to have more cuts.” Woody said.

“I appreciate that offer, but I think I might be too busy with 'them' and finding a new job... aside from other things...” I was a bit stumped. I do have those two options for a job, but I also need to be there for my family and my friends too... I nearly 'died'... again. I'm alive today and the next ones. I don't want to waste it on work alone.

“Don't start with me again, Sammy!” Sheba glared at him. “You're the one who brought 'THAT' up in the first place!” He countered back.

“Guys, please! Let's not fight anymore for tonight. We spend quite enough time here and I need to get the kids.” I got up from my seat and then the coffee owner came to me. “Excuse me, but I believed this is for you.” He handed out a blue envelope and it had my name on it. I opened it up and read the little, blue card inside.

“What's that?” Kitty asked. “It's an address.” I answered, but I was confused. Why an address? “Hey! I know that address! It's the Chinatown's police department!” Woody exclaimed.

“What? You know that place?” I asked him. “Yeah, I been there a few times. You think ours is the ONLY police station in Chicago? This is a big city, so a few spare ones would be ideal for anyone who lives far from the one of them.” Woody responded.

“It's not that, I mean, what about it? Is there something about that place I should know?” I corrected my question to him. He only smiled widely with both hands behind his head and then Sam smirked with a thinking pose... Meaning HE knows what this place is too. “Sam, what are you thinking this time?” Sheba spatted him. “Oh, I was just thinking that tomorrow would be a good time to visit that address between us guys. After all, you and Kitty still have work tomorrow. Don't worry, us guys will be looking out for him.” Sam calmly reacted and Sheba's wasn't pleased. “Whatever you're doing, we're going too! We'll ask the chief to patrol on that territory! Right Kit-Kat?” Sheba turned to Kitty and she was surprised. “Huh?”

“Come on! Let's get those kids and hit the sack! We're ALL going to that address first thing tomorrow and after we punched in! And YOU better not going anywhere without ALL of us!” Sheba pointed out at Sam, then she grabbed my wrist and walked out the shop along with the others behind us.

---

The very next morning around Ten, We were back in the Chinatown district in front a Chinese architect Police station. One of the signs even stated: Chinatown Police Department.

“Whoa! This place is almost as big as our own!” Kitty was in amazement. “Not only that, but it's also connected to a Chinese Boxing School. So this would be a perfect training session once your wound is healed.” Woody filled us in.

“A Chinese Boxing School... Thanks.” I suddenly remembered a few days ago when I was 'practicing' with that Disney rabbit, I needed to focus on my punches in my combats too... Tuna fish, I really got a LOT on my plate right now.

“Well, enough looking at it on the outside! Let's get in there to see what do they want with you!” Sheba takes the lead and headed inside. “Wait, Sheba! I think we need to make a good first impression...” Kitty tried to reason with her but she was already inside. “Too late. Let's go.” Sam casually responded and then we all headed inside.

The indoor decor was a mix between the modern and Chinese. With plain beige colors and some cultural designs. But there was some basic police materials like the front reception. Sheba was at the desk and we catch up to her. “Sheba, at least let me talk to the person who wanted to see me first.” I told her.

“Ah, you must be the newest member recruiting here.” The receptionist looked at me and I was confused. “Newest recruit?”

“Continue further up ahead at the right. The left is where the training grounds for close combats are.” She gestured the way. “Um, Thank you.” I nodded and we all continued to the direction she pointed out.

“Are you sure you're going to meet them face to face first? What if it is a trap?” Sheba whispered. “I doubt it. This place is A-O-K. Nothing to worry in here, I promised.” Woody assured us.

I admit that I feel a bit nervous right now. Both were right and I don't know what to expect out of this. But at least I have back up in case of an ambush... Then again, Woody might be right.

I opened up the door to the station and inside was very unique... Well, it's almost the same as ours but with much cleaner desks and there was some traditional Chinese architectures decorated the place a bit. Asides some dented and punched in holes on certain walls, I noticed a large yet average familiar person sitting in the chief's desk, eating some Sweet Puffs and looking in today's newspapers with his face hidden behind it. I also recognized that old coffee mug sitting on his desk anywhere!

I immediately walked pass my friends and I grabbed the newspaper away from him as he was surprised. “Hey! I didn't finish the funny papers yet! Oh!... Felix! I haven't heard you coming in. It's been a while.” The individual smiled.

“Detective Pikachu?! And you're eating those sweets again! Didn't I told you to lay off of them?” Sheba responded and scolded him.

It was Detective Philihert Princeton. But we all call him Detective Pikachu. He was one of the people I used to work with when I first started in the police force. He had the usual, signature brown overcoat resting on his seat, he had his white working shirt, a red bow tie, had his signature side burns along with his dark brown hair, he had his 'lucky' brown detective hat on that looks like mine and he's also still 'fluffy' from when I remembered him.

He used to work at my old department until I was well adjusted to the job and then he somewhat 'disappeared.' He's also a full pledge detective who used to work under my father along with Bernard. He may be a bit of an average, stern, middle age guy with an attitude and a bit clumsy at times, but he makes up for it in his 'unique' work performance. He sometimes likes to talk like he's the 'greatest' detective, but he's got a soft guy deep down.

But don't forget his BIGGEST traits: He's a coffee lover and has a big sweet tooth. Keep yourself clear between a doughnut box and him. “I didn't expect you'd be with your friends here. I was told that it was going to be just you.” He puts down the puff and then he got up from his chair. (Creaked a bit but I'm not going to mentioned anything.) He stretched a bit and then started to explain.

“Ah well, guess I don't need to do a formal 'swore in the law' jig since it's not in front of the upper people.”

“What do you mean? And what are you doing here and were you've been all this time? I haven't seen you in months! Last I've heard from you, they said that you were lay off.” I DID wondered where he went next to Bernard, but all I ever got from them was that he's 'busy' or 'he's taking a vacation,' ecetera... Yet, I was kept busy too...

“Is that what they've told you and your buddies at the old station?” He raised an eyebrow and puts his hands beside his waist. “I may not be the smartest detective you all seen, but I have enough experience under this thinking cap to see what they were doing. They've 'chased' me away before I can have a chance to investigate what's REALLY going on.”

“They've fired you?” Kitty asked him and he nodded. “One of the higher ups is working 'with' Bendy and he might be the same person who did the same with kiddo over here. Luckily for 'us', this district is NOT under 'their' jurisdiction and neither who is working here. I'm now the guy in charge of this block of justice as you can tell from my badge. Eh?” He was really eager to show his chief badge.

“But what's this has to do with Felix being here?” Kitty asked. “I'm getting there, just as soon as he opens that door. I have a big package that's a bit too big to carry.” He pointed out a door to another office. “That's it? Just to help you with a package?” Woody was unimpressed. “If it's too much for Felix, especially when he's still recovering his gun wound, I will shove that mug-” I cut Sam off before he gets on a rant again. “I'm pretty sure it's not going to be THAT heavy. I'll be careful.”

I went to open the door and I immediately hit the light switch because it was dark in there. As soon as I turn it on....

“SURPRISE!!!” There was a shouting and horn blowing along with confetti’s flying in everywhere.

There was Mickey, Oswald, Ortensia, Minnie, Inky, Winky, The three masked people I've seen in that alley chase, Shang, Mulan, Baloo, Bagheera, Aladin, that Irish motorcycle girl, Mushu, Lumière. and two little girls I never met before. They seem like they were about the same age as my nephews...

One had light brown hair with a blonde streak in a braided pony tail, had turquoise like eyes ,a black and green dress and she looks a bit younger. The other had a really blonde hair, similar eye color, with a blue winter themed dress, and she looks about the same age as my kids. (Nephews that is!)

But what really surprised me was the cake that has a number twenty two on it... I realized something I've completely forgot. “I can't believe it was my birthday today... I completely forgot all about it!”

“You were a bit busy with all the stuff that's been going on lately, but I guess that makes the surprise even more easier.” Woody patted on my shoulder. “We wanted to make it a bit special.” “So we decided to do it in your newest office.” Shang and Mulan said in a follow up. New office? “I beg your pardon?” Maybe I misheard that part.

“They were talking about this block of wood here.” Sam passes by me and he gently knocked fist the desk with all of the party stuff on it. “As soon as we cleared all of this and you getting back on your feet, you'll be watching Woody's block of wood.”

“He'll also be fighting crime in the streets again after Chief detective Pikachu's present.” Sheba follows up. I raised an eyebrow on that. Are they telling me...? I then noticed Mickey pulling something from his jacket. It was a small case o=for jewelry, but as he opened it, it wasn't a jewelry, it was a police badge. A Chinatown Police Badge.

“Today were not only celebrating your birthday, but also the newest member of Chinatown's police member. Over here, those big guns at the main Chicago PD won't meddle who's working or rigging in this district. They have to get through me and the other one if they really wanted something bad.”  Philihert told everybody and patted my head. “W-wait! You're telling me that I'm... that guy you're talking about?”

“Who else we're talking about, Merlin the magnificent? His NAME would be on the cake instead.” Baloo chuckled. “Hurry up to make that wish, Felix. The candles are going all over it.”

The party went on for a while, everybody's got a good time and we all get to know each other well. The girls I've seen with my nephews were foster sisters, but they were under Mulan and Ortensia for the moment. I was worried at the thought of my own if I have... no, Felix. You're alive and you're grateful you're living another day to see them. I was also handed a card of an apartment address to a certain Jack Skellington, who he's responsible for estates and apartments. I was told to ask him for a place for me and my nephews once we have the chance. I also got to know the other three who helped us in that mafia chase the other day. The short, buffed, red one was Yao, the skinny, cocky, yellow guy was Ling, and the big, blue, peaceful guy was Chien-po. Those three along with Shang and Mulan are working within this police department for this district's security. They can at least be on the look out for any mafia activities asides the regular criminal activities in public. The Irish girl name was Merida. As I pretty much already her background, she's pretty popular in the delivery services from what I heard from her and many more...

The more I get to know these people, the more I wanted to find out why would they called themselves a 'mafia.' I mean, I didn't get the chance to experience their 'night' jobs. I already know what the 'usual' mafia business from my father's experiences and mine, but this is... quite unusual. I'm not saying it's bad! Just a nagging feeling in my chest...

Speaking of chest... I remembered back in that factory... Mickey and Oswald were hit dead on the hearts! By none other than Boston himself! How did they-

My thoughts were interrupted by a singing, guitar playing rabbit and he made my eyes wide opened.

Well it's one for the money, Two for the show, Three to get ready, Now go, cat, go!

But don't you, step on my blue suede shoes. Well you can do anything, but lay off of my blue suede shoes.

I actually NEVER heard him sing. Ever. Nor even making anybody happy. But I saw that everybody's is having a good time hearing this. Is that song from that new rock and roll singer, Elvis Presley?

Well you can knock me down, step on my face, slander my name all over the place.

Do anything that you wanna do, but uh-oh honey lay off of them shoes!

He was actually really good! Not just the little dance, but he was quite charmi-!!! WAIT NO! He's teasing you again! I blushed a bit but I hope he doesn't see me like this!

And don't you, step on my blue suede shoes. Well you can do anything, but lay off of my blue suede shoes.

Let's go cats!

Suddenly Kitty grabbed my hands and she wanted to dance to the guitar solo. She was being careful with me due to my side was still healing, but I did my best to play along. I feel like it's been so long that I had a good time like this. Everybody was cheering and having fun.

Well you can burn my house, steal my car, drink my liquor from an old fruit jar.

Do anything that you wanna do, but uh-oh honey lay off of my shoes!

And don't you, step on my blue suede shoes!

Well you can do anything, but lay off of my blue suede shoes.

Rock it!

He was really into his second guitar solo. The kids were really enjoying his performance and they aren't the only ones.

Fine! I admit! He's REALLY good and cool!

Well it's one for the money, Two for the show,

Three to get ready, Now go, go, go!

But don't you, step on my blue suede shoes!

Well you can do anything, but lay off of my blue suede shoes!

Well it's blue, blue, blue suede shoes.

Blue, blue, blue suede shoes, Yeah!

Blue, blue, blue suede shoes, baby!

He made a wink and I had that funny feeling inside of me that makes me say: Let me die, please!

Blue, blue, blue suede shoes.

Well you can do anything, but lay off of my blue suede shoes.

We all applauded for his rock number and I'm doing my best not to look awkward. Why does this rabbit makes me feel... NEVER MIND! I don't want to know! I refuse to even THINK about it!

I then felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Mickey covering his side mouth and whispered.

“I've slipped an address in your pocket. Can you meet me there at that time, alone?”

TO BE CONTINUED... Chapter 27.

Read Chapter 25 here or read the beginning here!

Song: Blue suede Shoes- Elvis Presley.

BBTIM Charaters belong to MArini4. Some OCs belong to me.

Disney Characters belong to Disney and Pikachu to Nintendo.

[roxy-davenport]

Eight Days of Winchester

Title: Eight Days of Winchester

Prompt: Jewish/Hanukkah/ For @saxxxology’s SPN Holiday Challenge

Word Count: 5,534 (Whoops)

Warnings: None

A/N: Fluff, Young Dean, Young Reader, Young Sam. This is told in the reader’s POV. I huge thanks to my beta @dr-dean for letting me pick your brain about Hannukah. You were a very thorough and awesome beta answering every single question I had. Thank you so much.

Also on A03

Day 1

 My mom invited this guy over to dinner. She barely even knows him but I can tell she likes him already. It’s been awhile since she found someone she liked. I promised her I’d be on my best behavior. She informs me the man has two very handsome sons -- she’s seen pictures apparently. I had an eye roll so epic I think my eyes actually rolled all the way back into my skull. But I put on my favorite dress just in case she wasn’t lying. I didn’t hold out much hope. My mom insisted the boys all come over and taste some good home cooking. The man, John I think she said his name was, said he wasn’t much of a cook and so mom insisted they come over. The holidays were supposed to be family time but I couldn’t hold it against mom. If this guy made her happy, I could give him a chance.

 Mom got out the Hanukkah menorah along with the candles. I always thought the menorah looked pretty with colored candles.

 “You remember why there are eight days to Hanukah, right?”

 I rolled my eyes yet again.

 “Yep, I remember. The eight branches represent the eight nights.”

My mother grilled me every year -- as if I could ever forget. Who needs religious classes when you got mommy dearest, right?

 “In Hebrew the word “Hanukkah” means “dedication.” The name reminds us that this holiday commemorates the re-dedication of the Temple in Jerusalem after the Jewish victory over the Syrian-Greeks in 165 B.C.E. The Syrian-Greeks had seized the Jewish temple and dedicated it to the worship of the god Zeus. The Jewish people resisted being forced to worship a false god and give up what it meant to be Jewish. If anyone practiced Judaism they would be given the death penalty. So Jewish rebels, the Maccabees, retook the temple to “purify” it by burning ritual oil in the Temple for eight days. They only had a small amount of oil which could only really last for only one day but surprisingly it lasted eight days so we now we celebrate that miracle. And because of this, the menorah in synagogues must always be lit; it must always have an eternal flame. You’re better than any religious school.”

 Mom chuckled.

 “The one candle that’s higher than the rest is called the Shamash, or helper candle, and that’s the candle you use to light the others.“

 My mom looked impressed that I actually remembered everything.

 “We have to light the candles right after sunset. If they’re late we’ll have to do it without them.” I told her hoping that we wouldn’t have to celebrate Hanukkah with strangers.

 “They won’t be late. I don’t know if John has ever taken part in Hanukah before.”

 “He’s not Jewish?”

 “No he’s not Jewish, but you should have seen his face when I asked him to celebrate with us. He was practically beaming. The poor man must be so lonely. It’s a shame his wife died. He’s such a good man. And besides, dear, we’re reform Jewish. If we were orthodox dating a goy (non-Jew) couldn’t be done.”

 My mother was so happy at sharing a tradition with a man she barely knew. Maybe my mom was as lonely as this John man. Maybe they could make each other happy. She was totally head over heels for the guy even though he didn’t see her an awful lot every month. This John character kept leaving to go off on “jobs.”

 Hello! Red flag right there, mom! He’s probably in the mob or a cheat. I mean how else could you explain the long absences? Maybe he even had another family somewhere. But I wouldn’t do anything until she came to the same conclusion. I’d play nice and get to know him until then.

 A ring at the door signaled their arrival. My mom tidied up her appearance, fixing her hair and her makeup. Mom opened the door beaming at John. I stood behind her my face not giving anything away. John smiled at me as he extended his hand to me.

 “You must be Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 “It’s nice to meet you, too, John,” I answered back somewhat sweetly.

 He had a firm handshake and a very friendly maybe too friendly smile. There was movement behind him and my eyes darted to behind his back. John introduced me to his sons, Sam and Dean. One was very shy and small but sweet. He shook my hand rather nervously might I add. The other boy was older and taller and he just winked at me. I shivered at the feeling, excitement coursing through my 18-year-old body. He spelled danger. And for me, a girl who never left the small town I grew up in or got into any trouble, this boy spelled a different, more fun kind of life. That wink spoke volumes to me.

 I haven’t even kissed a guy yet much less made out with one. Dean looked very experienced to me. I gulped nervously in his presence. Dean noticed and smirked back at me. Self-righteous prick. He was infuriating and sexy all at the same time. I never liked any of the boys in school. Then again boys like Dean never attended my school.

 Mom brought out the menorah and placed it on the table along with the kosher candles. Dean and Sam were intrigued to see what was going to happen. Dean of course took this moment to get closer to me this time his eyes roving up and down my figure. I rolled my eyes at him. This boy had only one thing on the brain. He was hot yeah but come on a girl needs more than just hotness. Or does she?

 Mother and I placed the candles in their respective places in the menorah. Mom used the match to light the Shamash, the candle in the middle first. I then took that candle and lit the one next to it before placing it back in the middle. My mom recited the blessings as a way to pay respect to God and our Jewish ancestors.

 “Adonai , shehekheyanu, v’kiyamanu vehegianu lazman hazeh.”

 You and your mother both said, “Amen” at the same time. Your mother smiled at you before addressing the guests at the table motioning everyone to sit down and eat.

 I could feel his eyes on me the entire dinner. To make matters worse my mom talked about me. I hate being the center of attention. I know it’s normal for moms to want to brag about their kids but with them? Ugh. At the mention of stellar grades, all eyes were on me. I looked down at the floor, blushing profusely.

 Sam perked up at the mention of good grades. He started engaging me in conversation about literature and homework. I went from being shy to outgoing in a couple of minutes. This Sam boy made me feel comfortable. I found out he wrote stories and so did I. He told me he would make sure to bring some of his next time when he saw me. I in turn promised to hand him some of mine. I was so excited to show someone my stories and read his. You can find out a lot about a person through what they choose to write about.

 Dean didn’t miss the exchange between his brother and me. He was making grumbly sounds throughout. I just chose to ignore his rather puerile behavior. He was probably grumpy that his brother was not only talking to me but responsible for my smile.

 As if that’s my fault. Dean got really moody and quiet, picking at the food on his plate. I liked Dean, I really did. I just bonded intellectually with Sam -- no biggie.

 I tried to engage Dean in talk about books or other things. I didn’t find anything in common with him, but I wanted to. I couldn’t explain it but I felt drawn to him like a magnet.

 “Thank you, John, for coming during the holidays. It’s nice to celebrate with more than just the two of us.”

 “It’s been awhile since I celebrated the holidays myself and I’m glad my boys can get some culture in.”

 Mom smiled at John before turning to me, handing me a present. I smiled at her. Dean raised his eyebrow at me.

 “We get one of these everyday.”

 Blushing I reached out to quickly grab the gift. I felt awkward opening it in front of everyone, but my mom’s warm smile egged me on.

 “Wait, you get eight days worth of presents? Dad, can we be Jewish?”

 “Dean!” John said forcefully in a hushed voice.

 I stuck out my tongue at Dean. He in turn rolled his eyes. On top of the present I got delicious little chocolates called gelt that looked like coins wrapped in a gold foil. The main present was THE game I wanted for my Playstation 4. Sam’s eyes went wide when he saw that. Dean groaned. They left soon after that, John saying that his boys needed some sleep.

 Day 2

 The second they came, mom ran to hug John and grab the menorah. Mom placed the candles in the menorah from right to left and then lit the shamesh, the candle in the middle. I then lifted the shamesh out of the menorah and lit one candle before passing the shamesh to Dean who lit another candle. Mom showed Dean where the shamesh belonged on the menorah.

 I started to blush at the intense stare he was giving me. Mother closed her eyes and started chanting.

 “Baruch Atah adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvitav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukah. Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam, she’asah nisim l’avoteinu, b’yamim haheim bazman hazeh.”

 Everyone said, “Amen.”

 We all smiled and took our respective seats at the table. The more I talked with Sam, the more Dean slumped in his seat across from me. Sam and I just had so many things in common. I had no idea why Dean was being so dramatic. I didn’t like his brother like that. Sam was cute but I wanted Dean.

 “Y/N. Could you pass me the…”

 “The potato latkes? Sure Dean.”

Dean nodded, “Yeah, those.”

 “They’re really good, right?”

 “Man, I could eat these every day.” Dean confessed.

 “Wait till you try my mom’s homemade cherry blintzes. They are out of this world.”

 Dean’s face lit up at the talk of food. It was then that I learned the way to his heart. Thankfully, my mom had taught me how to cook.

 I fell into an easy conversation again with Sam but took quick glances at Dean who always smiled back at me.

 After dinner was finished, I opened my present and found another PlayStation game. This time Dean didn’t groan. Instead he watched my face light up and he smiled. He wanted to stay and talk to me but his father insisted they leave. You gave Dean half of your chocolate gelt, 5 pieces to be exact.

 “For good luck,” I told him.

 He slipped one into his mouth closing his eyes as the taste.

 “This is delicious.”

 Dean couldn’t stop smiling as he waved good-bye to me.

  Day 3

 John didn’t come today. He said he had to take the boys a few towns over to their aunt who had just given birth. Of course, I understood and my mom and I were happy for the new baby in their family. But I missed Dean. It wasn’t the same without him. I barely knew him and I missed him already.

 I lit the menorah adding another candle. I looked at the candles seeing just candles. When Dean was there, they looked like amazing lights. They made his face sparkle almost. He seemed so fascinated by the whole ritual. I was swept up in how he saw it.

 I sat there with my mom talking about school, nothing important but she noticed I was a bit apathetic. I didn’t smile like I did when Dean was there.

 I ate my chocolate by myself opening my present and smiling. It was the DVD of a movie I was dying to see. I was overjoyed and ran to my room to watch it, forgetting about Dean for the moment.

 Day 4

 I literally ran home from school smiling, only to find two place settings on the dining room table and not five. No Dean tonight, either.

 I went through the motions again lighting another candle and saying the prayer. Hannukah wasn’t as much fun without Dean.

 I was starting to get worried that maybe John had really left town not just away on a visit. He said he would be back by now. He called mom when we were having dinner and assured her that the boys would be there the next day. He sounded sure on the phone so I chose to believe it, looking forward to the possibility of seeing Dean.

 The present I got was a gorgeous silk scarf, the kind my mother said I had to be older to wear. I guess I was old enough.

 “I see the way you face lights up when he’s here. I see the way he looks at you. As much as I hate it, my baby girl is growing up.  And older girls need nice scarves, grown-up scarves. Dean is a fine boy to pick by the way.”

 I blushed and looked down at the ground. Mom smiled and kissed my forehead. I fall asleep with a smile on my face knowing that tomorrow Dean would be there.

 Day 5

 The second the door opened I looked over at Dean. He looked exhausted and he had a cut on his cheek. He was wearing long sleeves but he kept itching his arm. I glanced down when he lifted it up a bit to scratch noticing a deep cut. He followed my gaze and covered up his arm quickly. His father glared at him, which made Dean shrink. John then looked my way but I ignored the patriarch and instead hugged Dean. He was surprised by my actions before he hugged me back slowly, tentatively as if I’d run away. After a few seconds he smiled and sighed into my arms. I stepped back and looked sheepishly at him. He winked at me and whispered in my ear before walking into my apartment, “I’m fine, honey. It’s just a cut.”

He looked me up and down and I did the same.

 The two of us didn’t notice what our parents were doing or saying. We were in our own world. Dean only noticed that they were holding hands so he reached out to hold mine smiling at me. Sam cleared his throat feeling awkward. Dean tried to withdraw his hand not wanting to make his brother feel awkward but I grabbed onto his hand and wouldn’t let go. I turned to Sam and handed him one of my stories.

 “Oh man I’m so sorry I--.”

“No need to apologize, Sam. You’ll bring them when you can. I’d love to know what you think of my story. I really hope you like it.”

 “I would be happy to read it. Thanks.”

 I nodded at Sam who suddenly seemed to be more comfortable in the room. Dean smiled at me noticing the change in his brother.

 Mom lit the shamesh and you and Dean were tasked with lighting the rest of the candles. You divided up the task moving from left to right. Mom said the prayer, which always ended in a unison, “Amen.”

 The two boys ate almost all the food on the table. I stared at them confused. Didn’t their father feed them? I mean mom was a great cook but really?

 As I did every time, I gave half of my chocolate to Dean. He shook his head but I placed it in his palm and closed his fingers around it.

 “I’m Jewish, Dean. This is my thing. I get Hanukah gelt every year. There are 10 pieces here. Share it with me. Your family never gets them. Enjoy it.”

 Sam raised his eyebrows at me about to say something but Dean made a face and Sam backed away. He looked away sheepishly. Dean looked down at the chocolate in his hand and gave Sam two of his pieces. Sam’s face light up, his fingers anxiously ripping off the gold fold and putting them both into his mouth. His eyes grew wide tasting how delicious they were.

 I opened my present to find one of your favorite books, The Girl Who Owned the City.

 “You like books?”

 I looked over at Dean confused by his comment. So he doesn’t like books? Who doesn’t like books, I wondered. “This isn’t just any book Dean. This is a book about a virus that wipes out all the adults leaving children to run the world. It’s a feminist apocalypse sci-fi book. You should read it. You might like it.”

 “I’m not too big on horror or apocalyptic worlds. This world is scary enough.”

 I frown at his comment. That’s a bit dark for a 19-year-old to say. What kinds of things had he seen? Before I can ask what he meant, his father suddenly pushes Dean out of the door. I put the offhanded comment out of my mind not thinking anymore about it.

 Day 6

 We lit the menorah together before mom said the prayer.

 Dean’s eyes are on me during the whole dinner, completely distracting me and making me feel flustered. I didn’t notice the conversation John was having with my mother or how much closer they’d gotten. I do hear her laugh and it’s been so long since she even smiled.

 When I open my present I see it’s another video game I really wanted. I’m so happy and beg mom to let them stay over. Smiling she looked over at John silently begging him to say yes.

 When John nodded, the boys run up the stairs to my bedroom. I ran close behind them. I put the game in and immediately searched for multiplayer options. I handed Dean a black controller. He glanced at me like I was crazy.

 “You’re playing with us, Dean. Basically kick the bad guys asses.”

 “Oh honey, I can definitely do that. I have training in that.”

 Sam turns around and glares at his brother. Dean just shrugs. I watched the exchange completely confused.

 Reaching over Dean’s lap I place my hand on his controller. “You press this for a punch, this for a kick. This button is for a combo and this is to block.”

 Dean’s eyes glazed over at all the different buttons but once we started playing he got the hang of it, He cheered and groaned along with us. We were having so much fun we didn’t hear footsteps behind us. Mom told me that she found John just watching us. Creepy much? Mom joined in and they both watched us play games and smile. Even creepier. Thanks for telling me, mom. She even said, “When you’re a grown-up you’ll understand.” Whatever that means.

 Day 7

 Dean came to dinner dressed very nicely. I blushed when I saw him at the door. I was very happy that I had chosen a lace dress to wear.

 “I love a girl in lace,” Dean said suggestively.

 “And look at you. No more plaid lumberjack shirts but instead a leather coat and nice pants. You clean up nice, Winchester.”

 Dean blushed profusely and Sam laughed. Dean elbowed him to be quiet.

 Dean helped me light the menorah and even tried to pronounce the Hebrew words mom said.

 The second we sat down, Sam got my attention. He had a big smile on his face and a bunch of papers in his hands.

 “I just wanted to say that I love your stories, Y/N.”

 “Really?” you inquired, your eyes as wide as saucers.

 “Yeah they’re super creative. I brought mine this time.”

 “And I brought another story,” you added.

 “Awesome. I can’t wait to read it, Y/N.”

 “Same here, Sam.”

 The rest of the conversation with Sammy was about his stories. No one had ever taken an interest in your writing. I mean your mom did but she was your mom. That didn’t count. This was a boy taking an interest in you. I talked about the deeper themes in my stories and asked him about the themes in his writing.

 Dean didn’t feel jealous that I was talking to Sam. No moaning or growling from Dean’s side of the table. He simply beamed at me, happy and amazed that I could fit so well into his life.

 I watched him carefully after all the cryptic things he’d said in recent days. There was sadness in his eyes that night. I always thought it weird how I could read Dean so well. If soul mates existed maybe that would explain it. I don’t know how but I could feel guilt wafting off him in waves.

 This time I opened my small bag of gelt up and let Dean take as much as he wanted. Mom gave me my present, which I then shook trying to figure out what it was. It made a soft clicking sound.

 “A CD?”

 Mom shrugged.

 I tore open the wrapping paper and saw it was the album, Back in Black from AC/DC.

 “You love AC/DC?” Dean inquired.

 “Who doesn’t like classic rock?”

 “I’ve been trying to get Sam to enjoy more classic rock.”

 “I’d enjoy it more if you didn’t listen to it on repeat all the time.”

 Dean rolled his eyes.

 “Let’s listen to it upstairs?”

 I quickly nodded running up the stairs after him.

 “Door open kids.” Mom called out.

 “Yeah, Mom.”

 Sam took the hint and stayed downstairs. Glancing back, I saw him starting on his homework.

 The second that we got into my room I put on the album. I turned towards Dean. I was nervous so I closed my eyes and just listened to the music, letting it guide my movements. I danced in front of him occasionally opening my eyes to see Dean staring at me hungrily. He slowly walked me backwards into the wall. He put his hands on either side of my head as he looked down at me. I gulped trying to avoid eye contact. I was way too nervous for that so I stared at his chest. He carefully moved one of his hands from the wall to guide my chin up making eye contact with me.

 “Why so nervous, doll?”

 “I’ve never kissed a boy?”

 “Never? How is that possible? I would have thought boys would jump at the chance to kiss you.”

 “What school do you go to again?”

Dean chuckled. His hand slowly moved to my cheek as he caressed it. I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch.

 “That’s it, baby. Relax. I got you.”

 With my eyes still closed, I felt his face get closer and closer to mine, his forehead grazing mine. I felt his lips on my lips. Dean kissed me gently, carefully, almost reverently. He slowly moved his tongue inside my mouth cautiously playing with my tongue. My hands moved to his hair to hold him there. He took that as a sign and deepened the kiss, moving his tongue more inside my mouth. When we needed air he slowly disconnected his lips from mine. His thumb caressed my cheek. He stared into my eyes and I saw so much feeling there. He nibbled my bottom lip and my eyes fluttered closed.

 Dean and I heard a creak from the floorboards next to us. I saw him reaching into his pants to get what looked like a weapon out. Why does he have a weapon? His father cleared his throat and Dean’s hands fell suddenly to his side.

 “We gotta go, Dean.”

 Dean doesn’t argue with his father. I shivered silently at the harsh tone in which John speaks to his son. Before Dean leaves he kisses my forehead and smiles so mournfully. With several lingering glances he walked down the stairs away from me. John nodded at me and leaves quietly with the boys. I collapsed on the bed still high from that amazing kiss. If only John hadn’t interrupted us.

 Day 8

 Dean came over as usual. But everyone seemed uneasy, anxious even; their gaze never on me or my mother for too long.

 I lit the last candles for Hanukkah. Me, Dean, and mom said the Hebrew prayer.

 Dean looked at me sadly. I had no idea what was going on but with each passing second, I felt like I was dying. I could feel Dean pulling away. It was getting harder to breath.

 Moments later John shattered my world by saying that they had to move. I blinked continuously trying to blink away my tears, which Dean noticed. He looked more pained than before.

 The first decent guy to come along and make me feel amazing and then he has to leave? How cruel was fate?

 At that exact moment, the windows of my home were broken by some sort of creature. The creature was snarling at me. Mom ran away screaming. I stood my ground and started throwing things at it. Then I noticed another monster. The monster started barreling towards me. Dean acted fast tackling it to the ground. He gave the monster a hard kick making its head land painfully on the coffee table. Dean got up quickly grabbing you and ushering you into the kitchen.

 “We need silver. It’s a werewolf.”

 I didn’t ask any questions, I was beyond frightened and his voice commanded authority. I grabbed all the utensils and ran out into the living room with Dean. He threw two knives to Sam and John. I in turn threw a bunch of stuff at the monster, which distracted it. I clutched my knife focusing every ounce of strength I had into killing this werewolf. I thought about all the kids that teased me, all the bad stuff that happened, and channeled that anger. I pushed it backwards against the wall. I maneuvered under its claws and jammed the knife into its heart. It tried to scratch me as it was dying but I jumped high and rolled away from it.

 Everyone stared at me. John and Sam had already killed the other werewolf. Mom ran to me hugging and kissing me. The boys kept staring at me. I withdrew from my mother and walked over to Dean.

 “What the hell was that?” I nearly screamed at him.

 “I could ask you the same thing,” Dean answered back.

 “I take self defense classes, one. Two we lived in a very dangerous neighborhood when I grew up. So I learned how to fight at an early age. And three, I’m awesome. Thanks for noticing.”

 “Yes, you really are.” Dean said awestruck.

 Dean didn’t hesitate and grabbed the back of my head cramming his lips on mine. This wasn’t like the kiss before. This was passionate and rough. This was to show emotion, not to comfort a scared girl. I was no longer the scared, innocent, wide-eyes girl I was before. I grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him back just as passionately. My eyes fluttered open when his lips left mine.

 Dean practically growled.

 “I’m not leaving Y/N behind, dad. You saw what she did. I’m telling her and I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He said the last part to me holding my hand.

 John was about to say something when I spoke up.

 “Tell me what?”

 “Dean!” John warned.

 Ignoring his father Dean spilled the beans. “We hunt monsters. That was a werewolf. Our mom died from a monster, a demon actually and we as a family hunt monsters. We keep the world safe. And we have to leave. There’s a town two hours away. Five people have already died. It’s definitely a monster. Possibly a ghost. We can’t stay here. When dad said we were visiting our aunt that gave birth? That was a lie. We were on a ghoul hunt that took longer than anticipated.”

 “Your family hunts monsters?” It made sense. His cryptic comments; the sadness, the cuts, the gun, everything made sense now.

 “Yeah I know that’s--.”

 “Hunting monsters, saving people the family business…that’s awesome.”

 Dean was shocked.

 “And you want me to come?”

 “Yes Y/N I really do.”

 “Give me a moment. One moment.”

 I nibbled Dean’s lower lip before smiling back at him. I turn to my mom walking with her into the kitchen. She hugged me handing me a large book bag.

 “I heard everything honey. I may not like it but I know I have to let you go. You’re an adult now you can make you own decisions. I know how you feel about Dean and the way you fought. That was incredible. You weren’t afraid -- you acted decisively. I knew in that moment you would be leaving and I packed your favorite things. You are meant to go with them and save the world. John was never meant to be mine. I was meant to meet him so you could meet your beshert, the one you are fated to love, Dean. I’m terrified. It’s so dangerous but if monsters really do exist, someone has to protect people like me. You were meant for this Y/N. Go with them and know I love you always. You better call me regularly.”

 I cried as I held onto my mom. I never thought she would be so understanding. She was right, though, I belonged with the Winchesters.

 Dean was trying to stall. His father didn’t want to take me with them and they were furiously arguing. I could hear them all the way in the kitchen.

 I threw my book bag in the backseat and turned to Dean. “Thanks for stalling, Dean. Mr. Winchester, I know I’m only 18 but I choose this life and I don’t need a lecture from anyone. I am technically an adult. I planned on taking a few years off before going to college anyway. Get some life experience. I could have died from the Werewolf that must have followed you. I could have run away like my mom did and waited for you guys to swoop in, but I didn’t. We all could have died. Your sons included. But what happened? I saved everyone. And if you don’t take me, I’ll give Dean my number and go out on my own hunting monsters. Your choice.”

 “I can’t be responsible for you.”

 “You’re not, John. I’m responsible for me. I choose this life. This is my choice, come what may.”

 “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

 “So what? I go back to my normal life? Forget about Dean? Forget about how I feel? I can’t do that. You can’t ask me to do that. I finally find someone I care about and you rip us apart? I finally feel like I am meant to be somewhere and you tell me to go back to a sheltered life? Too late, Mr. Winchester. I belong here, I know how to fight and I promise you that I am making this choice. I don’t want to live an ordinary safe live and have a nine-to-five job. I want more. I want to be a hero like Dean.”

John groans, closing his eyes momentarily. When he opens them, they bore into you. It feels like he’s looking into your soul or something.

 I pointed to the house.

 “Go inside and speak with my mom, please. She has the right to send me with you. Please talk to her.”

 Dean grabbed his father’s arm pleading with him. “Y/N could do research. Only research. No hunting. She stays back. I will make sure of that. You, me, and Sammy go hunting.”

 I nodded agreeing with Dean. I would do anything to go with them.

 John looked between the two of us and then walked over to the house. John was in the kitchen for an hour arguing with mom while Dean and I were making out in the backseat of the car. Sam sat as far away from us as possible.

 By the time John came back, he sighed heavily looking back at the two of you. You stopped mid kiss looking back at him.

 “Well, looks like you’re an honorary Winchester Y/N. Call me John.”

 “Well John, my mom’s one stubborn lady when she decides something and so am I.”

 “I can see that.”

 “But you’re doing research. Dean will train you but no hunting until you can outsmart him and he’s been hunting since he was a child so that’s a tall order. No arguments or I’ll turn this car around. “

 “You’ll receive no arguments from me.”

 And just like I sped off to my new life as a hunter finally feeling like I belonged.

 Tagging

Forevers: @purgatoan, @killerofthesouth, @charliebradbury1104, @chaos-and-the-calm67, @chelsea072498, @everday-supernatural-af, @kalliravennee, @toogardenenthusiast, @winchesterprincessbride, @one-shots-supernatural, @take-me-tonirvana, @hellsmother, @ellen-reincarnated1967, @faegal04, @deals-with-demons, @mamaredd123, @atc74, @hamartiamacguffin

Dean Folks from my list: @ellen-reincarnated1967, @chaos-and-the-calm67, @buckymetallicstump, @faith-in-dean, @bennyyh, @ruprecht0420 @supernatural-jackles, @jesspfly, @webcricket

@aprofoundbondwithdean, @thing-you-do-with-that-thing, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @dr-dean, @nichelle-my-belle, @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid, @thegreatficmaster, @salvachester, @blushingsamgirl, @bkwrm523, @whispersandwhiskerburn, @lipstickandwhiskey, @impala-dreamer, @samsgoddess, @frenchybell, @scorpiongirl1, @for-the-love-of-dean, @cici0507, @fiveleaf, @deansleather, @curliesallovertheplace, @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname, @waywardjoy, @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious, @kayteonline, @supernatural-jackles, @idreamofhazel, @wevegotworktodo, @ilovedean-spn2 , @quiddy-writes, @wi-deangirl77, @deantbh, @mysaintsasinner, @chelsea-winchester, @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki, @fandommaniacx, @teamfreewillimagines, @deanwinchesterforpromqueen, @castieltrash1, @supernaturallyobsessed, @memariana91, @writingbeautifulmen, @captain-princess-rose, @plaidstiel-wormstache, @idreamofhazel, @revwinchester, @supermoonpanda, @ageekchiclife, @i-dont-know-how-to-write, @vintagevalentinexx, @ohwritever, @ruinedbydestiel, @winchester-writes, @mysupernaturalfics, @thinkwritexpress, @sammit-janet @bowtiesandapplepie, @itsemmyb, @ezauraemmaline, @matteson-crazed, @castielspahdehrah, @charliesbackbitches, @crzcorgi, @gryffindorable713, @deerlululucy, @walkingencyclopediaoffandom, @MrsJohnSmith, @manawhaat, @growleytria, @thegleegeneration, @samtomydeanwinchester, @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki, @i-never-said-a-pilot, @thewinchestielboys, @supermoonpanda, @sis-tafics, @amaranthinecastiel, @kittenofdoomage, @samanddeanwinchester67, @prettyxwickedxthings, @ferferelli @lilyoflothlorien, @myfand0msandm0re, @olitzisbae, @iridianuniverse, @the-morning-star-falls,  @shortandlongstories, @strange-inhumanity, @ackleslaugh @noisilyyoungpuppy, @fangirling-instead-of-working, @eyes-of-a-disney-princess, @chrisatplay, @kayteonline, @spnsimpleman, @faith-in-dean, @gimmethepieandnoonegetshurt, @for-the-love-of-dean, @mamaimpala, @winchesterfiesta, @zanthiasplace, @sleep-silent-angel, @pada-ackles-reads, @thing-you-do-with-that-thing, @gadreelsforbiddenfruit, @trenchcoats-and-bees, @curliesallovertheplace, @jencharlan, @not-so-natural-spn, @skybinx-blog, @thebunkerismyhome, @feelmyroarrrr, @beachy2014, @fandom-book-nerd, @tia58, @@sams-little-toy, @sunriserose1023, @saving-things-hunting-family, @winchesterswoonathon, @jotink78, @lucifer-in-leather,  @babypieandwhiskey, @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave, @supernatural-jackles, @avasmommy224, @angelwingsandsupernaturalthings, @mysaintsasinner, @chelsea-winchester, @spn-fan-girl-173, @besslincoln-bruh, @wheresthekillswitch, @shelovesallthethings @maraisabellegrey, @notnaturalanahi

[impvarjack60]

12 What's Up, Doc?

We entered 'The Cave' and I closed the door. The furnishings were rather spartan as I hadn't really done anything in here. There were still a few crates in here that I was using as end tables. I felt that Abzari would be more comfortable in here, and the truth is the Hybrides may be spies. Whether they know it or not.

"Have a seat Abzari, and I'll get right to it as I have several questions for you. First, were you unmarried on Earth?" "Yes, the woman I was betrothed to in childhood was killed by an abandoned land mine when I was eighteen. Then I was off to college and medical school. I just never found the time to persue a relationship after that." A perpetual loner. Hmmm, that sounds familiar. I was getting the feeling I was in for a painful story here. "When you woke up, describe what was happening and what was different about yourself." "When I woke up, I was in an all white room. I thought I was in paradise, and I would soon meet Mohammad. I started to call for him, but then the metal orb appeared." "What did he call himself?" "Rafiq, a boy I knew from childhood. He was killed by the Russians just before they left." "I knew you guys had it rough, but damn..." "All I've know is war, Michael." "What did they change on your body?" "I was fifty two years old when they kidnapped me, and now I look like I did when I was eighteen." Did they fix anything?" "Yes, I had a bullet wound in my right thigh, it is no longer there." "Holy crap, Doc. how'd that happen?" "The wound was from when the Taliban was fighting from the hospital where I worked, it was a stray bullet." "OK, these questions are more personal in nature, fair warning. Is your penis bigger?" "What?!, what relevance does tha......" "Doc, mines about eight centimeters longer. I want to know what we have in common. It may give some clues as to what the aliens are up to." "Yes, I have been just as curious, and no, it's approximately the same." Gee Doc, too bad. Or maybe he's just already hung. "When you prayed, what did you pray for?" There was a long pause, apparently I'm in sacred territory. "I prayed for Mohammad to return and deliver us from that evil." "OK, Doc, there's some commonality." "You prayed to Mohammad?" "Doc, I prayed to anyone who would listen, Jesus, Mohammad, Ganesha, Buddha, I didn't care who. I just wanted someone to come and rescue us, the human race just wasn't gonna' be able to pull it off." "So, you do not have a singular faith?" "No, Doc. I'm a bit of an Agnostic." "I thought this would be the Sacred Barge of the Believers." "I've never heard that before, that doesn't seem like a Muslim thing." "It's not, Michael. In the back of my mind, I've felt we may not have gotten everything right in our religion. A long time ago Muslims were the voice of science and reason, living in harmony with those of other faiths. Now a small percentage of us have twisted a once benevolent faith into a bramble of lies, and I wanted that to end. However, I think there's a hidden force behind the evil on the surface, and we'll never know who it was." "So, do you feel this is the work of the divine?, this vessel has to have shaken your faith somewhat." "Yes, and sadly, it has." "Well, hang in there Doc. When I first met Anna, it was a terrifying experience for me." "I can see why." Everyone is going to view Anna as a freak, ugh...... "Yea, thanks Doc. When I grilled Olaf the next day, I said something to the effect that since they scared me shitless with her, that they got me wrong, and that they couldn't be God, because he is infallible. Then he said and I quote; "Even a God can make a mistake, Michael." That scared the crap out of me. God, or Allah, may very well be on the other side of that wall." "But Michael, what would Allah need with technology?" "That's the thing, Abzari. If these beings showed up back then to our ancestors, wouldn't that look like God's magic to them?" "I will have to contemplate this for a while, Michael." "No pressure, we've got time, meanwhile, keep praying, Doc. And when you do, I'd point the mat towards the shield wall. OK, what about Minoo? what's her story?"

"She was made famous by the cover of National Geographic." "I thought I recognized those eyes, that's were I seen her before. OK, so we both have a taste for famous people, what else?" "She was brutally beaten by the Taliban years later for some weak infraction of dress code. I was the doctor for her recovery." Holy shit!, is there no end to this man's suffering? Well, maybe now. "So, did she dominate your thoughts?" "Yes, I couldn't get the image of her beautiful eyes out my head, and how horribly disfigured the Taliban had left her." I don't know how much more of this I can do, I'm way out of my element here. "How is her mental state?, she was rather quiet. I couldn't get a good impression of her." "At home, she is a somewhat childish, curious creature, and a bit more talkative." "Well, if she hangs out with Anna long enough, you'll never get her to shut up." That was good for a laugh, and I hope I broke the tension a little.

"The truth is Doc, we have GOT to make this work. We will have to drop a lot of our former cultural mannerisms. For instance, when you asked to examine Anna's stasis device, you should have asked her. As for me, I have to retrain myself to forget all those shitty stereotype things about Muslims. Were I lived, there was nothing but mistrust, and my personal thinking upheld that mistrust. But since I've been here, I've realized that there would be many cultures represented here, we have to get along, and not just tolerate each other. We have to understand each other, and be friends. We... must... make... this... work. We'll die out, or fall into those old ways of feudalism if we don't. I for one don't want that."

"You have left me with a lot to think about, Michael. This surprises me considering your background." "I think I missed my calling." "You should consider a position of leadership here, you seem to be asking the right questions, and have a vision of our future." "Leadership from anyone is something we should avoid like the plague." "Yes, but it will present itself."

 I know, and I dread it.

He paused for a second, it now looks like every time somebody does this, I'll end up regretting it. "I think it's only fair you tell me about Anna."

"OK, Doc, you're right. We have to bear our souls and confess here. I was infatuated with that movie, it just turned me upside down. It was a life changing event. I lost weight. Quit doing some things an old guy shouldn't do. I started to be more sociable, and realized that being alone wasn't for me anymore. But change is hard, and I was taking it one step at a time. Anna to me was a hero. Her determination to save her sister and Jesus-like sacrifice was inspiring, and in a way, I was in love with her. I tried to keep reality in check, she's a made-up fictional character. But why can't we aspire to be like her? She had many desirable qualities, that's why she's sitting in my living room right now. She was the embodiment of everything I wanted, warmth, a capacity for deep love, kindness, bravery, empathy, intelligence, and spunk. All wrapped in this beautiful shell. Her inner beauty equaled her outer beauty. And not the typical American version of beauty either. I guess that's why everyone was infatuated with her sister.

When I awakened here, I too felt I was dead. When I first seen the Habitat, I had a panic attack, if I would have been my old self, I would have had a heart attack. Then Anna showed up and I panicked again. Frankly, she is freakish, and I didn't know how to act. I feared she was one of them, or some kind of robot. Later that day I found myself running my fingers up her leg, she was positively silky, with skin like a baby. I just keep asking myself over and over, what did I do to deserve this?" I had to pause for a moment, what I would ask next could be embarrassing.  "By the sounds of your story, Doc, you DID deserve this. When Minoo showed up at your door, from what little I understand your religion, she would be a gift from Mohammad, and you would've welcomed her immediately." "That's fairly close, Michael, and no, I was expecting seventy-two of them." That was good for another laugh, I'm sure the other two heard that one. "Our first day was something of a train wreck. Oh,.. since your a doctor, this question may be appropriate. Did you examine Minoo physically?" I kinda' squirmed when I asked this, I was really uncomfortable asking it, but he is a doctor, I'd assume he'd be very curious about her construction, or so I thought. "No Michael, I still feel she is a gift, and I will not defile her." "Understood, but when Anna gets her new arm, I'd like for you to give her the once over. They should be cut from the same cloth, and as long as she's OK with it, I am too." "That would be acceptable, Michael. My own curiosity as to what they are is very high, but I do not want to risk the retention of my gift." "Again, understood. I think it's time we go visit again with the ladies, and Abzari, I've enjoyed this visit, and I hope we're one step closer to figuring all this out." "I as well, I did not know what to expect by coming here."  I just hoped I hadn't been too offensive, but we have to sweep that shit under the rug. I want to know what those crazy aliens are up to. I got up and opened the door for him. "Shall we?" We headed to the living room to two chatter-boxes. That's my Anna. Minoo said maybe six words for the half hour we talked. She certainly seems to have a way with people. "So, what have you two been talking about?" Minoo goes; "Weddings." Followed directly by Anna; "And babies!"

Facepalm.

I wanted an intelligent, cultured equal. I hope we have some way to do some reading in the future, we got a long way to go. But I have the feeling they were jerking our chain. That's something Anna would do, and the fact that Anna set us up like that was encouraging. So we said our goodbyes, while promising to do it again. We set up a run together in three days, and they left with smiles on their faces. We had them too.

Now if we can just do this with two hundred and forty eight more couples we'll be all set. I'm not holding my breath.

[kinetic-elaboration]

May 4: Thoughts on 4x10 Die All Die Merrily

So as expected this episode was generally pretty boring and focused primarily on the people, events, and actions that interest me absolutely the least in this show. But as I said, I was anticipating as much, so in a weird way, I was pleasantly surprised? I was expecting nothing and got a bit of something, whereas, for example, last episode I was expecting a lot and got less than nothing and was super disappointed. So... I actually feel kind of...good...for having watched it? Weird.

Anyway a few observations (in chronological order today because I actually paused to write down a few notes this time, which I don’t usually do for first watches):

Clarke would have sided with the council on the Ark, I think we’ve now more than established that. Her line to Roan “I want humanity to survive, even if it’s not my people” is pretty much indistinguishable from the guiding philosophy of the Ark, except that there were fewer “factions” on the Ark, so “my people” might mean, like, my family or my friends or this poor parent stealing medicine, etc. I’m not mad about this, I think it’s interesting. Clarke was so morally righteous about the Ark Council in early S1 but when push comes to shove she adopts their way of thinking: that the whole is more important than the parts. And even though I don’t have much by way of concrete thoughts on the Bellamy and Clarke stuff in this ep (yet?) I do think it’s inevitable, narratively, that they come to a head, because his guiding philosophy for the apocalypse is “We save who can we save today,” which is much more about the parts than the whole. (ETA: I do know she was lying but this is her philosophy, that the big picture is the most important thing. And while she was obviously taking the bunker for just her people, not the Grounders, she was also influenced by her belief that Luna would win, meaning that it was her people or nothing in her mind.)

I’ve never cared for Echo as a character or thought much about her appearance wise but she was looking hella hot in this episode.

Octavia’s Roan voice is hilarious. “I am a serious warrior now, a Damaged Person who’s Seen Things and Felt Tragedy and now wields Weapons of Death so I must talk in a low gravely voice all the time.” Imagine S4 Octavia stepping out of the dropship and snarling “We’re back bitches” lol.

I was thinking during the announcement of the champions (or whatever they’re called) that this Grounder language really makes no sense and is not consistent. I mean obviously they’re going to primarily speak English on this show but...didn’t they say once that only warriors understood English? I bet they’re regretting that line hardcore right now. Because it is QUITE obvious that everyone and their baby sister knows English.

Because my never-indulged-in kink is Emotional Conversations and Relationship Development there were a few scenes I liked. I enjoyed Bellamy and Octavia and Kane: I liked how smart Bellamy was (side note: the whole mess with Clarke and the twist ending could have been avoided with proper communication; she didn’t realize O had like a Great Plan in place to win and basically gave her up as a lost cause too soon haha), I liked the Octavia and Kane hug. I also enjoyed the Indra and Octavia scene, though it would have been better if their history wasn’t quite so...fraught. And I liked the Indra and Gaia and Kane and Bellamy scenes as well. Probably my favorite of this set was the Kane and Indra conversation, though. It still bugs me that we have no idea how they became the BroTP of BroTPs but...at least we have them.

Bellamy: “I will not stand for cheating! I will not stand for it!!!!!” The moral core of the show.

I hate Polis but it is a cool set, I will give it that.

Unpopular opinion but: Luna is the worst. I have never been a Luna fan. I liked her introduction and the first shot of her rig but ever since she’s been nothing but annoying and she’s been Extra Annoying this season. I do not regret in the least bit that she is gone lol. Maybe I should be interested by her whole philosophy and story or whatever but I’m just...not. It strikes me as very shallow and flat. Like absolutely the least amount of thought was put into it. Let’s-go-to-the-common-room-and-talk-about-apartheid Unyielding Morally Superior Undergraduate Faux Hippie devolves into Unyielding Pseudo-Goth all-humanity-is awful-without-question-or-exception kill machine is just not compelling I’m sorry.

Basically my biggest problem with this episode is that it is an Octavia episode and I’m just not that interested in her and haven’t been...well, ever, really, but I lost what little interest I did have in her when Lincoln was killed. Like, the episode was actually better written and plotted than I was expecting, but I still couldn’t really care about its main character. I do wonder why this is. Is it because of the fandom? Is it because her arc has been badly written? Is it just because it’s not to my taste, not bad in any way in particular but just not suited to my personality? I don’t know,

Re: the Roan and Echo scene: where tf did the word “sire” come from? Like I know what it means but has anyone ever called anyone else that on this show before, ever? It seems like kind of a weird word to survive the apocalypse considering these people’s closest real world ancestors are 20th century East Coast Americans lol.

Anyway, Roan was great in that scene, though. I liked his devotion to honor as an abstract concept not just like a badge you show to people so you can trick them into trusting you, and honestly it’s scenes like this that make me sad to see him go/hopeful that he’s not actually gone.

Also re: that scene, while I am of the belief that it’s Octavia, not Bellamy, who is at fault for the sibling rift, I did think the sequence where she overhears him talking about her was touching. Like I was touched ngl.

While watching Kane and Indra and appreciating their friendship, I started wondering if inter-clan dating/marriage/procreation is a thing. Like they all mingle together in places like Polis, certainly some people have got to fall in love outside of their little group. What happens then? Does one person leave their clan? Were there people watching the conclave who were like ‘well, my husband’s clan is gone but my birth clan is still in the race, I wonder if I can like sneak him in when we win?’

Re the deaths: I don’t care. As I said, I’ve never liked Luna, and as I might have mentioned repeatedly in other posts, I’ve never liked Ilian either so good riddance to bad rubbish that they’re gone. I’ve had a love-hate relationship with Roan, and my mom likes him so I feel bad for her that he’s gone, but my feeling generally is...if he does miraculously come back, that will be cool, but if he doesn’t, I won’t miss him. In a way, I’m glad for all of these deaths because I feel like they were supposed to be really Upsetting and Scandalous and maybe that means we’ve filled our quota of death for the season. (Also, except for arguably Roan, these are all the sort of people who die a lot on this show: mid-level guest stars, characters introduced earlier in the season, etc. These sort of deaths comfort me because they show me the writers have some idea of how to kill people in a “we gotta kill people SOMEtimes” environment, as opposed to deaths like Wells’s or Lincoln’s that are just like ???? narratively.)

As for the ending...I know O made the right call morally and that in a sense it was the only thing she could do in this story and in order to fulfill the theme. She had to say the bunker is for everyone because that’s the truly humane thing to do; it not only honored Lincoln, it showed how wrong Luna was about the inherent badness of people. But...honestly when she was talking my first thought was to groan and think that this means that YET AGAIN an ENTIRE EPISODE was literally and completely POINTLESS like omg will literally ANYTHING happen EVER??

And the ending...Ok. IDK what to think of Clarke’s decision morally, like I didn’t have an instinctual reaction to it and I haven’t thought much about it because I just finished the ep like half an hour ago... but practically speaking, as it turned out, it was really dumb lol. If she had just let things run their course, Octavia would have won anyway, and then they’d be in place to keep the bunker without betraying anyone (or, more importantly, causing damage to the incredibly precarious political peace that Roan established with the conclave idea) and it would be fine. I mean, she’d have to contend with O’s promise to give space to other people but like I said, I don’t think Arkadia still has 1200 people so there’s wiggle room here. Plus, Octavia’s pronouncement made everyone all warm and fuzzy and compliant for literally the first time possibly EVER, so I think arguably some nice diplomacy, like by Kane perhaps, could have had at least a shot of smoothing things over. But nope. Griffin’s gotta do it all herself.

Basically, I’m saying: way to have faith in your friend, Clarke. Yet again she says all the right things, but then just like...does whatever the fuck she wants (see what I did there?) otherwise. I mean it’s very consistent and definitely IC of her and in that sense I can’t be mad, especially because her ruthlessness is actually one of my favorite traits of hers in a way but... I would like to see her grow. Finally. A little.

In particular “I have no choice,” “I did it because I had to,” “I’m doing what I have to do” and all variants thereof need to die. Or at least be Called Out. Because it’s never true that only one choice exists to a person, first of all. And second, it’s obnoxious. It’s a pass the buck phrase if ever there was one. I guess what I’m saying is I’d like Clarke to take responsibility for her actions finally, especially because I think she’s had enough opportunity to learn this lesson.  I thought maybe her S3 experiences might have helped. Also and most significantly, experimenting on herself instead of Emori in 4x08 did seem to be her finally comprehending that “I have no choice” is a falsehood. I know she was still being a martyr when she did it (her misuse of the Dante line) but STILL. UGH.

Also...obviously there’s a lot of THE SKY PEOPLE ARE BECOMING MT. WEATHER AHHHH going on, and it’s not subtle (experimenting on people, “welcome to Mt. Weather,” the gas canisters that are literally from Mt. Weather, the 4x09 blockade), but I don’t...really know what to make of it tbh. It’s falling a bit flat but I don’t know if that’s just me being dumb and/or unappreciative or if it’s a problem with the construction.

Yay two seconds of Miller. I love seeing him as a leader type.

BUT...sorry, what is this ridiculous stuff about each Station getting like half a floor though? Alpha, Mecha, Farm, and the occupants of prison station made it to the ground. That’s it. And most of Farm was killed by Ice Nation either during the hiatus or in 3x03. So, like, where are these alleged Hydra station survivors? Are our three Factory people (Bellamy, Octavia, and Mel) going to get a whole level to themselves or something? The inconsistency, it astounds.

And...yep, that’s that.