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heyitsani · 4 years ago

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This Could Be the End of Everything Chapter 1

@jaydick-week Day 4: ABO Dynamics

Word Count: 7,249

Rating: Mature

Warnings: non-con (but not sexual), canonical character death

Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson

Summary: Jason's presentation takes something precious from Dick and they have to face the consequences in more ways than one.

Notes: Okay just a bit of background/history. In this "world" pack dynamics are important, but have taken a backseat since society doesn't require them anymore. But back when they were lead by more primitive needs and desires, each pack was led by one omega and alpha who were more powerful than the others. True Alphas and True Omegas, as they came to be called, were respected due to their power. But as society shifted and packs began settling in single places, Trues became more and more rare because the need for the powerful protectors was not needed.

Now they're considered precious and while True Alphas are more common than True Omega's, both are considered rare. And it's especially rare to have one of each in a pack. And when a True Alpha gives a mating bite to a True Omega, the bond cannot be broken without one or both of them dying (whereas a normal pair could easily break a bond if need be). And should one of the pair die, the other would become a shade of themselves for the rest of their days.

You can also read it on AO3 here

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It was rare that Dick found himself at the manor these days. The argument with Bruce that ended up with Robin being stripped from Dick and the one that followed when Bruce gave it to Jason without telling him first were still two excessively big bridges that had been burned. And had yet to be rebuilt. Although, if you asked Dick, he would say they would never be rebuilt. Too much pain in those wounds.

But there were moments, like currently, when Bruce called and Dick answered because he couldn’t not help. Not when Bruce was able to find it within himself to ask for it to begin with. Even if Dick wasn’t fooled and was well aware of the fact that Alfred had cajoled him into calling his eldest ward.

A fact that Alfred was more than happy to confirm as Dick sat in the kitchen with the older man and sipped on a cup of his favorite Earl Gray tea.

“Master Richard, would you please take this cup up to Master Jason? He has not come down for his usual after school cup and I fear he has gotten caught up in his reading again,” Alfred set a tray down on the counter near Dick, glancing at the other man.

“Sure, Alfie,” Dick smiled. He set his own cup down on the tray, ignored the smile that Alfred gave him at the motion, and picked the whole tray up before heading out of the kitchen.

The manor was quiet, as it usually was at this time of day. When Dick had lived within its walls, there had been noise from wherever it was he had found himself. The need for movement or noise was embedded deep within his skin from his years in the circus and no matter how old he got, he could never shake it. Jason was much more like Bruce in his need for peace and solitude. Dick liked to tease Jason that he was adopted simply for the fact that he was much more of a Wayne then the unadopted Dick ever was.

Jason only ever scowled at that, but it made Dick snigger all the same.

Rounding the corner and making his way to Jason’s room, Dick balanced the tray on one hand and knocked. “Hey Jay?” He listened a moment, letting his omega scent the air a moment for anything out of the normal when no answer came. When nothing but Jason’s natural scent hit him, perhaps a bit stronger than usual, Dick deemed it safe to open the door. What greeted him was not something he had been equipped to deal with.

The growl surprised him, but not nearly as much as the scent of alpha that smacked him right in the senses. And how the hell hadn’t he noticed that through the door? It was so strong now that the door was open, and he had stepped into the room.

But he didn’t get the chance to process what it all meant before he was being pushed into the closest wall and the tray he had been holding was crashing down onto the floor. It made enough noise that he knew Alfred and Bruce, who was working in his study, would hear it and come running. They wouldn’t come quick enough to stop Jason from doing what Dick could see was burning in his eyes.

“True Alpha,” Dick whispered, eyes going wide. There was no denying that scent pouring off the newly presented alpha pressing him into the wall. Jason’s only response was the snarl in Dick’s face and though the omega knew it was probably the stupidest thing he would ever do, he shifted his scent so Jason could smell more than just plain omega.

A scent that Dick worked so hard to hide because he had always expected to be an alpha growing up. He hadn’t even considered omega as a possibility. If he weren’t an alpha, he would definitely be a beta. But when he had presented as not only an omega, but a True Omega, his entire world had shifted. He still struggled with accepting his place in the hierarchy of the world, but he had quickly mastered the skill of turning off the True in his scent, so no one knew outside of the family and a few very select friends.

But the research he had done immediately after his presentation heat had passed had told him one thing over and over: A True Omega can calm a True Alpha when breaching feral while presenting. And Jason was going down that road, especially since Dick had waltzed into his territory uninvited.

So, he let the True Omega scent come out to play and immediately Jason’s tense hold on Dick loosened and Dick felt his body relax slightly. “Omega,” Jason whispered, eyes still blown wide with the change.

“Jay, you gotta relax. It’s going to be okay, but you have to relax through it. Let me go get Bruce.” At the mention of Bruce, Jason tensed back up and Dick was officially at a loss of what to do. Did Jason instinctually know Bruce was an alpha? Did he view Bruce as a threat now? “Jay?”

“Mine,” the growl was back and something sharp rose in Jason’s scent a mere second before a bright pain hit Dick and he was screaming.

Dick would never know for sure what it was that caused Jason to pull away, but one second Dick was pressed against the wall with Jason’s teeth in the place where his shoulder met his neck and the next he was on the floor, bloody and pressing a hand to the mating bite.

“Oh god, Dick!” He could hear Jason freaking out, having been pulled out of his haze most likely due to the pain taking over Dick’s scent, but he couldn’t focus on that. The only thing he could focus on was the burning in the bite and the spark in his chest.

“Jason?! Dick?!” Bruce’s voice thundered down the hall along with the sound of his feet rushing their direction, Alfred’s sounding just behind his. Neither of them answered and only Jason looked over when the two men appeared in the doorway, but he didn’t move from his position just a foot away from Dick, kneeling with his hands hoovering like he wanted to hold onto the omega but knew he shouldn’t.

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t-I’m sorry!” Jason’s voice sounded, accompanied by Alfred’s familiar baritone probably offering words of comfort. But Bruce kneeling in front of Dick took his focus.

“Dick? Dick, I need you to breathe.” Oh. Was that why he couldn’t focus? Yeah, that made sense. He was disassociating. “Dick, you need to breathe or you’re going to pass out. And your state is not helping Jason’s at all.” Closing his eyes, Dick tried to take a deep breath but found he couldn’t. “Focus, Dick. Five things you can smell.”

Right, he could do this.

“Your cologne,” he rasped, keeping his eyes closed. He could feel his hands shaking but tried to focus on scents. “Shortbread…” A stunted breath. “Wood polish…my tea…” Another breath. “And…and Alfred’s fabric softener.” He wished he could ask Bruce to touch him, to ground him like a pack alpha should. But there was a logical voice in his brain telling him he couldn’t. No one could touch Dick until Jason got himself under control. The newly presented alpha wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“That’s good Chum. Now four things you can hear.”

Still he kept his eyes closed, pushing his senses out further than this room. “The kitchen timer, the…the blue jays in the tree out back, the grandfather clock,” he said, struggling to keep his senses out of the room. “Jason’s heartbeat.”

“No, focus on what isn’t caused by the situation or related to it.”

“Your heartbeat.”

“That’s fine. Good. Three things you can see.” Carefully Dick opened his eyes and blinked, doing everything he could not to seek out Jason’s eyes.

He glanced everywhere but the spot where Alfred was standing with his hands-on Jason’s shoulders, holding the worried alpha back. “The tree outside the window.” He flicked his eyes to the ground. “The grain in the wood, and the tea on the floor.” He took a deep breath and glanced at Bruce who was nodding. “Sorry, Alfie,” he muttered, referring to the mess he had made when the tray had dropped.

“It’s quite all right, Master Richard.”

“Two things you can feel. You’re almost there,” Bruce said gently, nodding again.

“The wall behind me.” Dick took another deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling his chest loosen the last bit and his air coming more naturally. “Pain.” He flinched at the whine that sounded from Jason and cowered under the glare from Bruce.

“Dick.”

“I…the rug…” He tried and Bruce gave him a small smile.

“Last one,” Bruce told him. “One thing you can taste.”

Again, he wanted to say blood, but he didn’t want to make things worse. Again. “Lemon cake, from earlier.”

“Good. Can you stand? Alfred will take you to get cleaned up.” Dick thought about whether or not he could stand and figured he probably wouldn’t know for certain unless he tried. But his brain didn’t seem to want to send the signals to legs to push off the floor and he didn’t want to pull his hand away from the bite mark. He didn’t know if seeing it would set Jason off at all and he didn’t want to risk it.

“I need help,” he whispered, dejected, eyes falling shut again. There was silence and Dick could smell the hesitation in Bruce’s scent. The conflict.

“Can Jason help you?” Dick knew Bruce was struggling not being able to jump into the comforting father, pack alpha role but he also knew he had to be careful about Jason’s end of things too. Considering the idea, Dick gave a small nod and seconds later there were hands touching him gently, helping him to his feet.

“I’m so sorry, Dick. Please, I’m so sorry,” Jason whispered, and Dick opened his eyes to look at the young alpha. There were tears in Jason’s eyes and he knew Jason felt terrible. He knew because it pulsed loudly in their bond and scented the air like fog. But Dick didn’t know how to respond without breaking down again. So, he just leaned against the wall and let Jason mutter out his stream of apologies.

“Master Jason, I need to take care of Master Richard. Will you be all right for me to help him to his room?” Jason’s eyes widened in panic at the suggestion and Dick felt a little bad. The new instincts were hard to handle on a normal basis, but throw in mate instincts on top of that? Dick couldn’t imagine.

Reaching forward with the hand not holding the mark, Dick gripped the front of Jason’s shirt. “You can help me to my room, but I need to process, and I need to breathe so you’ll have to leave me there. With Alfred.” He was trusting his omega to comfort Jason’s alpha right then because there was no way Dick could do it. Not when he was desperately in need of comfort himself. He needed to not have to be the strong one and that wasn’t going to happen while Jason was in the room.

Because the last thing he wanted was to make Jason feel even worse for something that Dick was upset about but not mad at Jason for.

Dick watched Jason take a deep breath before nodding. “Okay, I can do that.” And Dick knew he was trying to steel himself for the moment he had to walk out of Dick’s room and leave him with the beta. But if there was one thing Jason had perfected, it was doing something he didn’t want to do simply because it needed to be done.

Glancing at Bruce, Dick found the older man watching the pair with his well-practiced Batman face. It was one he had never been able to read, no matter how many times he had tried over the last eleven years. But he did know that it was strictly reserved for situations he wasn’t too sure how to handle. Or situations that compromised who he was as an alpha. This was probably both of those times. His youngest, newly adopted son had presented as an alpha when no one was prepared and managed to claim his eldest, unadopted ward before anyone could stop him. And now he had to manage the new alpha when his instincts were telling him to care for his pack omega. And not just any omega, but a True Omega who pulled out the protective instincts more due to the precious nature of having one in your pack.

But Dick couldn’t help Bruce right then. He couldn’t be who he always was, the one who helped others back onto their feet when they fell, because it had been him who had fallen this time. And for once in his life he just needed to allow himself to take care of himself.

“You can take your leave now, Master Jason. I do believe you and Master Bruce have much to discuss,” Alfred spoke gently but with an undercurrent of authority that most betas were never able to accomplish. Alfred though, he was the true patriarch of this family and anyone who knew them knew it.

Dick didn’t look at Jason as he stepped away from where he had helped Dick sit on the edge of the elder’s bed. He didn’t look up from the spot on the floor he had kept his gaze until the door shut firmly behind Jason, shutting his scent out along with it. It was then when Dick allowed himself to crumple a little. Under the watchful eye of Alfred, it felt safe to do so. He could hide his face in his hands, ignoring the blood on his one hand, as he silently cried.

Thanks to the scent blockers on his room, specifically installed for his heats, Jason wouldn’t be able to smell his new mate’s distress. He would, however, be able to feel it through the bond but there was nothing Dick could do about that now.

A hand fell to the back of his neck and squeezed gently. “Indeed, Master Richard. Indeed, this is quite the situation.” And that just made Dick sob harder into his hands, falling sideways into Alfred as the older man gathered the nineteen-year-old in his arms. It wasn’t the comfort he had been seeking since Jason had sunk his teeth into him, but it would do for now. It would have to do for now because Bruce had to take care of the new alpha.

He couldn’t be certain how much time had passed before his tears dried up and Alfred got to work on cleaning and bandaging the new bite. It wasn’t common practice for the bite to be covered, usually healing quickly on their own, the fact that it was given against Dick’s will made the healing process a bit different. Slower. Mostly because Dick’s omega was bucking against the idea of this alpha taking something from him without asking, without proving that he could be a good alpha for the omega. While the laws of old had long ago been changed and Dick was just as worthy of a pack and society member as any alpha or beta, the instinct to be provided for would always be there.

Dick hated it.

He was an adult and he could take care of himself. He didn’t need to be wooed and courted. He didn’t need someone to provide for him. His omega disagreed, sadly. The True Omega knew that he needed an alpha who was strong, who could protect and love and worship Dick the way he deserved. That was the part that was howling right now, wanting to rage against the bite and break it. But that wasn’t an option.

“Alf, what are we going to do? I can’t break this. I know you and Bruce could smell it. He’s a True Alpha,” Dick whispered, looking at the man currently turning down his bed so Dick could crawl into the comfort there.

Alfred sighed and straightened, frowning. “We will have to figure this out. Get some rest, Master Richard. I will go speak to Master Bruce and send him in here as soon as possible.” Dick could see the question in Alfred’s eyes and nodded his head, silently admitting that he wanted Bruce there. “In you go,” he was waved into the bed and remained motionless as the covers were pulled up to his shoulders. It reminded him of when he had been a boy in a stranger’s home.

“Can you…” Dick stopped Alfred from leaving for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what it was he wanted to say. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. “Can you tell Jay I’m not mad. I don’t want him to think I’m mad.”

“I will pass the message along. Get some rest.”

The sound of the door opening and closing was all he heard before the silence of the room fell over him. And though he thought there was no way he would fall asleep right then; he was out before he could really process anything that had happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason shot to his feet from the chair in the kitchen when Alfred entered. The elder looked tired but gave Jason a gentle smile and a pat to his shoulder before guiding him back into the chair across from Bruce.

“He is asleep,” Alfred relayed, and Jason felt a surge of relief. He didn’t know if it was because of how stressed Dick had seemed at the entire altercation or because of the bond itself, but he was glad to hear the omega was able to fall asleep. Jason wasn’t sure he’d be sleeping for the next week. “He also asked me to pass along that he was not mad at you Master Jason. He was very adamant about that fact.”

The whine that came from his throat surprised everyone in the room, Jason most of all. And in his embarrassment and guilt, he buried his face in his hands.

“Jason.” Bruce’s voice sounded far off, and the usual need to obey didn’t come to him, but Jason took a deep breath and raised his head to look at his adoptive father all the same. “None of us are angry with you. The presentation is a lot. The instincts are hard to deny. Throw in the rank of True Alpha and you’ll find them even harder to deny.”

“You must allow yourself some grace, Master Jason,” Alfred spoke up. Jason turned to look at the elder beta and frowned. How could he allow himself grace when he had taken something from Dick against the older man’s will? Something that he hadn’t earned. Something the Dick hadn’t seemed keen on giving anyone, from what Jason had seen when he watched the omega interact with other people. He held himself away from others, he had learned how to pull in his scent to smell just like a regular omega, and he had learned how to ignore the instincts. Jason had seen them warring in the man’s sapphire eyes so many times and wondered why he would put himself through that just to make the world believe he wasn’t as special as he was.

But Jason had always seen how special Dick was. How spectacular he was. Even before he had known Dick was a True Omega. And now he was left wondering if he had been able to see it because he would eventually present as a True Alpha. If his inner alpha was just preparing to be worthy of a compatible omega.

“Fuck,” he muttered, looking away from Alfred. He didn’t comment on the older man’s lack of chastisement on his swearing, but he knew it was probably just because it was a difficult situation. “He’s not angry but that doesn’t mean he won’t hate me when he wakes up.”

“That may be,” Alfred said from his place. “But there is nothing to be done to change the situation. We can only allow Master Dick to decide what it is he wants to do since the choice was taken out of his hands.” Jason cringed at the words, even if they were said kindly and without the accusation he deserved. He deserved the anger and the hate. He had stolen something that was only Dick’s to give, no one’s to take. He was no better than the alphas in the Alley.

Bruce cleared his throat and Jason raised his eyes to look at the man, waiting. “And no matter what Dick decides, you still have a place in this family. In this pack.” And those words made Jason sag in relief. He hadn’t realized he was worried he would be kicked to the curb for what he had done. He understood that logically he hadn’t been in control, but the guilt swirled relentlessly around his chest and made him feel as though he was moments away from being kicked to the curb. “Do you understand, Jaybird?”

Jason nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was just blinking himself awake when there was a soft knock on his bedroom door. Shifting in bed so he was at least facing the door, he called out a ‘come in’ before snuggling further into the warmth of his bed. The previous days events were enough of a reason for him to not get up and greet the day as he usually did. He felt he deserved the right to be a little lazy today. Plus, there was a lot he needed to think about now.

“Dick,” Bruce’s low voice rumbled as the door opened and his alpha stuck his head in the room. Or his former alpha? Dick wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen now. The circumstances weren’t exactly standard. “How are you feeling today?”

Taking a moment to consider the question, Dick went through how he felt physically. His neck was still sore but not throbbing like it had the night before, his body ached but not in an overwhelming way, and he was tired but he usually felt that way when he first woke up. Mentally he was probably worse off. He could feel Jason’s emotions burning strong in his chest, but he ignored them just as he had done last night. He himself felt like a wreck. He felt a lot like he had in the weeks and months following his parents deaths. He was hurting and he was angry, but mostly he felt lost. And he wondered how Jason was handling the feedback that he was getting from Dick.

“Better than yesterday,” he finally settled on as an answer. “How is Jason?”

Bruce sighed and moved further into the room after closing the door behind himself. He hesitated a moment before sitting on the edge of Dick’s bed, just out of the omega’s reach. “He is feeling guilty and is rightfully upset about what happened.”

Dick didn’t say anything, but gave a sad smile in response. He didn’t blame Jason, even if he was upset the choice had been taken from him against his will. He understood the overwhelming feeling of a presentation. And he understood even more that being a True Alpha, or Omega in his own case, amped those instincts up a few more levels. Dick could be angry to the high heavens, but he couldn’t blame Jason for not being able to immediately control the instincts.

“He was okay with you coming in here?”

Bruce hummed. “He managed to show some amazing control once the situation had settled a bit after you fell asleep.” It must have been easier for him once Dick’s emotions had faded in sleep. “But now we need to discuss what you want to happen.”

Dick frowned and pushed himself upright, cringing at the pull on the bite. But he had more important things to focus on right then. Because he didn’t want to believe Bruce was suggesting what he thought the man might be suggesting.

“You aren’t kicking him out.” It wasn’t a question or even a request. Dick knew his place as pack omega lent a lot of authority, even if Bruce seemed immune to it most day, and he would use every ounce of it to keep Jason from being homeless again.

“I am not kicking him out.” Shoulders sagging in relief, Dick leaned back against the headboard. “I would never do that to him. He is pack for as long as he wants to be.”

Dick nodded. “Good. That’s…that’s good.”

But that just meant that what needed to be decided was what they were going to do about the mating bite. Dick knew it couldn’t be broken and he knew Bruce knew that too. He knew that they had no choice in this being final. But did that mean they had to accept it? Could they just ignore it for the rest of their lives?

Could he doom Jason to a life of no mate? No pups?

“I don’t know what to do, B,” Dick admitted, looking from the comforter to his father figure. “He’s too young even if I was okay with this. Legally he’s allowed to make the choice, sure. But I’m nineteen and he’s fifteen. And that is just…no.” Dick shook his head firmly and Bruce’s face told Dick that the older man completely agreed. Which didn’t surprise him in the least because Bruce was progressive, but he wasn’t to the point where he felt a fifteen-year-old was mature enough to pick a mate after presenting. “How much does he understand about the situation?”

“Enough to know there’s no fix,” Bruce admitted. “I told him some of the things we found when you had presented as a True Omega and what the purpose of the role was in our more primitive states. But how they had become rarer due to the dynamics of packs changing and evolving with civilization.” It was more than school taught these days because the rank was so rare for both omegas and alphas, though more so for omegas. Dick remembered the researching Bruce had done when Dick had presented and felt that gnawing need to know everything there was to know in order to get some control over the situation.

“I should talk to him.”

Bruce’s silence told Dick he agreed but had some reservations about it. It was a difficult situation and Dick knew Bruce was struggling still. The night would not have changed that. And it hadn’t gone past Dick’s notice that the alpha had kept himself physically distanced from Dick. Which meant Jason might have more clarity, but the instincts were still battling his logic and that meant caution had to be taken.

“Do you want to do that in neutral territory or here in your room?”

Being in his territory would definitely give him the upper ground, but he also knew the smell might be too much for Jason to handle. It would probably make focusing hard for the new alpha. But being in neutral territory meant the possibility of being overpowered again. And that thought scared him more than he wanted to admit.

But maybe there was a compromise.

Glancing over to the French door that opened to his balcony, Dick considered them. “Have him come here. We’ll sit on the balcony.” The scent wouldn’t be as bad once Jason was on the balcony and Dick wouldn’t feel like he was unsafe. Bruce gave a nod and stood from the edge of the bed, looking down at Dick with that all too familiar unreadable expression. “What?”

For a quick moment, Dick thought Bruce might actually open up and be honest with his emotions, but then the man gave a grunt and headed out of the room. Predictable, Dick thought as he carefully got out of the bed and made his way stiffly to his bathroom. He knew he would have time for a quick shower and that since the scent of last night’s emotions were still clinging to him, he definitely needed it. So he quickly washed himself off with the scentless soap the entire manor was filled with, silently missing the soft lavender soap he used back at his apartment, and got dried off.

He was just pulling on a pair of worn sweats and a t-shirt when a familiar knock sounded on the door and Alfred entered.

“Ah, Master Dick, please hold off on the shirt for a moment. I would like to have a look at your neck.” Dick nodded and pulled the shirt off his arms as he sat down on the edge of the bed so Alfred could take a look under the bandage that he had replaced after his shower. “How do you feel this morning?”

Dick thought about what he said to Bruce earlier about being better today and whether or not he could get away with that with the same. Not likely. “Sore and stiff. The shower helped some, but I’m still aching,” he admitted. The older man remained silent as he looked over the bite before applying a salve and putting another fresh bandage on it.

“You may put your shirt on now. Master Jason will be here shortly, I’m sure.” Dick sighed and tugged the shirt on over his head, remaining on the bed. “Not that I believe I need to give this warning, but do be gentle with the young master. He has been distraught all night.”

Dick looked up at Alfred with a frown. If the circumstances were different, he probably would have cracked a joke about Alfred’s sleepytime tea that Bruce was forced to drink from time to time. But this wasn’t a joke and it didn’t feel like one. Not even for him, the king of puns. Instead he just nodded and looked down at the hardwood floors as Alfred gave the back of his neck a squeeze and then left.

He stayed there, lost in his thoughts and emotions until a soft, hesitant knock sounded on his door. With a deep breath, Dick stood and went over to his balcony doors and opened them wide. He reveled in the gentle morning breeze that came through for just a moment before turning and telling Jason to come in.

Dick watched the door open slowly before a head of dark hair poked through and looked inside. “Dick?” The sound of Jason’s voice made his heart lurch. He had never heard the teen sound so uncertain before. Since the first moment they had met, the kid had been all stubborn pride and defiance. Dick had actually liked that about him, hoping Jason would give Bruce a taste of his own medicine. But it was nerve wracking to hear this side of him. Unsettling.

“Hey Jay,” Dick responded, drawing the teen’s eyes to him. Jason stopped midway into the room and the door fell closed behind him, causing him to jump slightly. “Let’s go out on the balcony.” He got a quick nod in return and Jason quickly walked around the bed and toward where Dick was waiting. Dick didn’t need the new bond to tell that Jason was nervous about what Dick was about to say to him, that he was trying to be as small as possible. And Dick also knew that given a few years time, Jason wouldn’t be very successful that that act.

Grabbing a blanket off the foot of his bed, Dick headed moved out onto the balcony after Jason and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders before sitting down on one of the chairs. The air was just chilly enough, but his goal was more to cover the bandages peeking out from the collar of his shirt after seeing Jason’s eyes flicker to them when he passed Dick. The sharp pain of guilt had slammed through the bond and Dick figured it was probably best to hide the evidence.

“I’m not mad,” Dick told Jason, looking over at the teen who was slumped in one of the lounge chairs refusing to meet Dick’s eyes. Dick watched him shift in the chair and waited to see if he would say anything. “Jay?”

The teen looked up at him for a moment before his gaze skittered away again. “I know you aren’t,” he muttered, tapping the center of his chest. And yeah, Dick guessed that was fair. But he was definitely going to have to find a way to shut the connection down for privacy. It would be different if this had been something they had both chosen. But not even Jason had wanted this to happen. “I know I said it last night, but I really am sorry, Dick.”

Dick nodded and leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, but you aren’t solely to blame. I walked into your territory without warning,” Dick admitted, turning his eyes out to the horizon of trees. “I triggered it when I tried to use my omega to calm you down.”

“This is not your fault,” Jason growled and when Dick looked over, he found the teen gripping the arm rests of the chair tightly enough that his knuckles were white. If Dick couldn’t feel the fierce protectiveness Jason was feeling then he might actually worry about a lack of control. But he knew Jason wasn’t going to turn this emotion on him.

“It’s not yours either.”

But Jason went from the rage to incredulity quickly and looked at Dick like he had just said the stupidest thing he had ever heard. “Of course it is! I bit you! I stole that choice from you,” Jason rasped. But Dick sighed and shook his head. “I’m no better than the bastard alphas in Crime Alley.”

“No,” Dick growled in return, leaning over his arm rest to look at Jason. “Do not compare yourself to a full grown alpha who has control over their instincts. Never do that. You are nothing like them.”

“But…”

Dick growled and Jason froze. “No.”

Jason gave him a nod, but Dick knew he didn’t actually believe it. But Dick wouldn’t allow him to think so lowly of himself. To compare him to some of the worst people out there. No, that was no something Dick was going to allow.

Silence hung between them for a few moments before Jason shifted and drew Dick’s attention back. “So what do you want to do?” The question was asked in a sure voice, but the uncertainty swirling in the bond made it clear that Jason was worried. But what was he worried about? Bruce had told the teen he had a home here no matter what.

“I don’t know,” Dick said honestly. “I’m going to go back to Bludhaven and maybe some space will give us some clarity. I’m also going to work on shutting this emotional bond between us off. I think until decisions are made, it would be better for both of us.” Jason watched him carefully and nodded slowly. Dick could feel the understanding, but also shame and rejection. But Dick didn’t comment on them because he doubted Jason actually wanted him to know he felt those things. “You’re too young for any decisions to be made.” When Jason opened his mouth to protest, Dick raised a hand to stop him. “I don’t care what the law says. You’re fifteen. And even if you had come to me in a year and offered me your bite, I would still say you were too young.”

The indignation that came through from Jason made Dick smile. He knew this would be the reaction. No one liked being told they’re too young. But the fact remained. Fifteen was too young and the pair of them didn’t really know each other all that well.

“I’m not rejecting you,” Dick offered softly. Jason frowned, eyebrows merging. “I can’t, even if I wanted to. But I’m not accepting either.”

“That’s fair.”

AFTER

“Yeah, Walls,” Dick laughed into his cell as he walked up the stairs of the front of the Manor. He listened to his best friend question his decision again, wanting to be sure that Dick wasn’t doing this for anyone other than himself and it made Dick’s heart ache. “I want to do this, Wally. I want to do it because he’s a good guy and when he’s old enough, he will be a good alpha. But I also want to do this because fighting it the past year has been exhausting. I could do it forever, but I don’t want to.”

“If you’re sure, man. I trust you know what you’re doing. Just want to be sure that B-man isn’t pressuring you.”

Sighing, Dick pushed the front door open and headed inside. “He’s got nothing to do with it, I promise.”

“All right, all right. Look, I gotta buzz but call me after you tell him, yeah? Maybe take a video? Love to hold his reaction over that punk for a bit.” Dick just laughed and agreed before hanging up and heading toward the kitchen, where he was sure Alfred would be. He was only slightly surprised to find it empty.

That surprise turned into concern when he walked through the remainder of the house and failed to find anyone inside. And though it was early, Dick figured checking the Cave wouldn’t hurt before he started making phone calls.

With practiced hands, he hit the familiar keys on the piano and made his way through the entrance of the Cave and down the stairs. Most of the lights were off and only triggered as he made his way further inside, but the glow of the computer gave him enough light to see Alfred watching the monitors.

“Alf?” He called out, causing the older beta to jump and look over at him in surprise. That made Dick frown. Alfred always heard them coming. Always. “Everything okay?”

His eyes moved from the man’s face to the screens and widened at the sight of the inside of the Batmobile speeding toward an unknown destination. He hadn’t know Bruce was on a mission, not that Bruce shared that kind of information with him anymore. Not since Dick had stopped being Robin and had become his own hero. But Jason usually let him know if they were going to be out of town on a mission, even if he didn’t say specifics.

“Master Dick, perhaps you should head back up and I’ll be there in a moment.”

But Dick shook his head and came closer, stopping just to the side and behind the chair Alfred occupied. “Where are they? What’s going on?” It was strange for Alfred to try and keep him away from a mission. Strange enough that Dick thought about doing something he hadn’t done in some time. He thought about opening the bond between him and Jason to try and see what the other was feeling. They had worked long and hard on closing off that end of themselves so they were not influenced by the other’s emotions and Dick couldn’t remember the last time he had tried to open it up. “Alfred, what is happening here?”

“Agent A what are the stats?” Bruce’s Batman tone broke through the speakers and Alfred sighed, turning on the mic that he had apparently turned off at some point.

“He’s still alive.”

He’s still alive.

“Who is still alive?” Dick whispered, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it.

“Nightwing what are you doing there? Agent A get him out of there.” And that cemented it even further. And it solidified his decision to open the bond. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and sought out that spot in his chest that he had tended to so carefully. One small tug on the thread was enough to pull it wide open, leaving him gasping and gripping the back of the chair to remain upright.

Pain. So much pain it was staggering.

“What is happening to him?!” He gasped out, letting Alfred lead him to sit in the chair he had just been in himself. He tried to straighten himself out, but he couldn’t pull himself out of the bent over position he fell in the instant he was seated. “B…”

He could hear Bruce swear over the comms and Alfred’s hushed reassurances, but the only thing he could really focus on was the pain. And the fear. So much fear and so much pain. There was something else buried under that, but the two overwhelmed anything else that might possibly be trying the come through. And even if Dick wanted to, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to close the bond back up.

And since his was open, Jason’s was now open as well.

“Please, B,” Dick begged, lifting his head to look at the screen. “What’s happening?”

“Joker has him. I’ll get him back,” Bruce told him and Dick felt his eyes well. He knew Bruce meant what he said, but he also knew that whatever was happening to Jason was going to kill him if Bruce didn’t reach him soon. “Agent A, how far?”

“Looks as though two miles, sir,” Alfred’s warm voice sounded as a hand landed in the middle of Dick’s back. “No change to the vitals.” Dick’s eyes went to the screen that held Jason’s vitals and he focused on that. He focused on the, although erratic, heartbeat of the man and tried to take a few deep breaths. “Master Richard, it might be difficult but perhaps you could reassure the young master through the bond? He won’t be aware that Batman is on his way to help, but perhaps you can help convey it.”

Could he do that?

He had heard of other doing it before, but he had no idea how to send an emotion. Only how to feel one. But he could try, right? Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself further. He released the grip on the seat of the chair and focused on calming his body. Once his body was no longer on the ledge of panic, he tried to remember the feeling he had when he had decided he was going to tell Jason that when his 18th birthday arrived that he would be happy to allow the alpha to court him. The warmth it brought him at the thought of Jason trying to prove he was worthy. The happiness that he felt in the moments he got to spend with Jason over the years, despite the issues he had with Bruce.

And then suddenly he felt something back. Something more than fear and pain from Jason. Gratefulness. An emotion so warm that Dick was sure if he touched his chest, he could feel it burning through him.

But then the fear spiked, and Dick sat straight up, looking at the screen to see Bruce pulling up to a warehouse of some kind. “Something’s wrong. Something’s happening. Bruce!” Dick shouted as Batman’s cowl showed the man getting out of the vehicle and running toward the building just in time for it to explode in flame and debris. “NO! Jason!”

#jaydickweek2021 #jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #abo dynamics #omega dick grayson #alpha jason todd

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cultofbeatles · 5 years ago

Text

beginners guide to the members of led zeppelin (kind of)

a disclaimer before anyone starts reading: we all know led zeppelin is shady as hell and we hardly ever get anything confirmed or denied around here. so some stuff is up for speculation. everything in this post are things i've read in books, heard in interviews, or got from some other source. when it comes to “facts about led zeppelin” sometimes you gotta take it with a grain of salt. but honestly it’s led zeppelin we’re talking about, anything is possible. also this is all in good fun and giggles. with that being said, let’s get started with introductions to the members themselves.

jimmy page

james patrick page

born on January 9, 1944

he’s a capricorn sun, cancer moon, and scorpio rising so you just know he’s a crazy motherfucker

was an amazing session guitarist and basically everyone wanted him

went to art school bc he’s just talented at everything i guess

if you didn't know already he played the guitar for Joe cocker’s ‘with a little help from my friends’

declined his first offer to join the yardbirds but later decided to join

was the last member to leave the group

basically was the leader of led zeppelin

was gifted a telecaster guitar by his friend jeff beck and he adored it

and he painted a cool dragon design on it

played on it for the first led zeppelin album

when he was on tour one of his friends painted over his dragon design and ruined the guitar

he produced all of led zeppelin’s albums and is responsible for the remastering of those same albums

paid for led zeppelin’s first album to be produced with his own money

deadass would have whips and handcuffs around with him on tour for the groupies

but was apparently an amazing lover and cared for the people he slept with

one time he got naked on a food cart thingy, put whip cream over his body, and had john bonham push him into a room with groupies in it

has such a small and soft voice

was fascinated in aleister crowley and his work

would collect crowely memorabilia

even bought crowley’s boleskine house

had a bookstore at one point so he could get books easier

struggled with addiction to drugs for most of the seventies

went on a liquid diet late seventies and refused to eat solid food

he got really skinny bc of it :(

miss pamela (one of his girlfriends/lovers) once said that jimmy cried on the phone to her over her playboy photoshoot lmaoo

once flied pamela’s pet raccoon in first class

allegedly had a relationship with lori maddox who was about 15 years old

laughed as two of his girlfriends were fighting each other

was kind of constantly nervous about his and the band’s image

has amazing guitar solos and improvisation but damn sometimes they drag on foreverrrr

deadass scared the shit out of david bowie so much that he had his house exorcised and would avoid jimmy at parties

we love demons

zoso

he’ll never tell us what zoso means and I'm mad

had two people die in his home. one was a friend who died from a drug overdose, and the other was john bonham when he died from choking on his vomit.

has been accused for the deaths of john bonham and robert plant’s son karac bc of that stupid “curse” rumor

deserves critiques for several things but doesn't deserve hate for that

has been through a lot and come out pretty okay

produced his current girlfriend’s, scarlett sabet, spoken poetry vinyl

check out scarlett’s work bc it’s amazing

would probably always be down for another led zeppelin reunion

robert plant

robert anthony plant

born on august 20, 1948

this is the most attractive man ever. do not argue with me.

nicknamed percy

wasnt jimmy’s first pick for a singer

jerry reid suggested robert to jimmy. and when jimmy asked what he looked like jerry said, “like a greek god.”

jimmy thought something was wrong with robert when he first found him bc he was such a good singer and hadn't been signed yet

after a practice together jimmy knew he had his singer

he would call robert “the young guy with the powerful voice.”

he thought about leaving the band early on bc he was so nervous about being in it

convinced john bonham to join the group bc they were the bestest of buddies

he’s not credited on the first album bc he was still under another contract

started song writing for the second album by jimmy’s memory

it didn't take long for him to gain confidence and start owning the stage

once when he was performing a dove flew in his hands

there’s an audio of him singing john bonham happy birthday and it makes me so happy

he would call himself a greek god

would party with john bonham a lot

kind of the hippy of the group

moans moans moans and even louder moans into the microphone

would wear women’s shirts and looked amazing in them

nurses do it better

not to mention his super tight jeans

we all know his dick is huge and he’s just showing it off

has the prettiest, fluffiest blonde hair

and the sweetest smile

can you tell that i find him attractive yet?

has a fear of earthquakes

also supposedly had some sort of a relationship to an underage groupie named sable starr (14)

also has a fear of led zeppelin nowadays

either fear or amnesia

it’s likely that he’s the reason we’ll never get another led zeppelin reunion

though a close friend thinks that if the show went to charity robert would probably do it

robert loved john bonham too much to play in led zeppelin without him

and i respect that a lot

no matter how much he’s offered for a show he turns it down every time

in 1975 he got in a severe car crash and ended up being in a wheelchair

still went on to record zeppelin’s album

once while recording on crutches and started to fall and jimmy apparently zoomed in to save him. robert never saw him move that fast before

his five year old son (karac) died from a sudden stomach illness while he was in america on tour

absolutely crushed him

was deeply upset that neither jimmy page or john paul jones reached out to him during that time of his life

john bonham was there for him though

robert apparently never forgave them for that

a car he was working on fell on top of him and crushed some of his ribs as well

late seventies was not a good time for robert plant

but he got through it all like a champ

hates stairway to heaven with a passion lmao

one time he paid a radio station a shit ton of money just to make sure they'd never play stairway to heaven again

almost didn't sing stairway for the 2007 reunion but ended up agreeing to it after all

he said he breaks out in hives when he has to play that song

he and jimmy made their own symbols. robert’s is the feather inside the circle

in 2007 he won beard of the year

john bonham

born on may 31, 1948

nickname is bonzo

oh boy, there’s a lot of stories about bonzo

he was known as the nicest and sweetest guy ever

unless he was drunk

he drank a lot :/

denied jimmy’s offer to join the group and continued to deny it until robert convinced him

once flew the starship (led zeppelin’s plane) even though he didn't have a license to

hated touring so much

he always missed his family

so he drank

he was so damn crazy when drunk that the other members would book rooms floors above where his was so he wouldn't disturb them

tore about his hotel rooms like no other

he has a son named jason bonham who he loved a lot

bought him a nice drum kit when he was younger

jason is just about led zeppelin’s biggest fan next to jimmy page

one time bonzo broke a girl’s vibrator when drunk

also punched a girl in the face when drunk once bc she waved at him

partly responsible for the famous mud shark story where a girl was apparently fucked with a dead shark by him and zeppelin’s tour manager

liked cars a lot

really really loved his family. cannot stress it enough

was irked that john paul jones got out of playing shows during the christmas holiday and he didn't

punched robert in the face once too

him and john paul jones equals the best rhythm section ever

jimmy would call it magic how well him and bonzo got along

bonzo could handle anything jimmy threw at him

he wasn't really a part of it, but he had to go to jail bc peter grant and two other dudes almost killing a man (long story omfg, but apparently the doctors had to put the dude’s eyeball back into his socket)

was there for robert when karac died

they were really good friends

there’s an interview with them together where bonzo is laughing at robert about his little farm

gave good hugs apparently

played drums like no other could and knew he was good

but still sometimes got insecure and got upset when someone he looked up to said his drumming wasn't all that special

his symbol is the three rings and he picked it out of a book like john paul jones did his

he died in jimmy page’s house (not the crowley house btw)

he had to drink the equivalent of 40 shots of vodka and choked on his vomit in his sleep

led zeppelin died on the same day

nobody can replace john bonham

his son filled in his role for the 2007 reunion show and did an amazing job of it. the whole show is on youtube, go check it out

john paul jones

john richard baldwin

born on january 3, 1946

nickname is jonesy

was also a session guitarist like jimmy

they had worked together before

when he found out jimmy was forming a group he called jimmy and was basically given the spot immediately

not only was the bassist but also the keyboardist

and could play the recorder

insanely talented. put some respect on his name

he talks in italics i swear to god

i don't have mainly crazy stories about jonesy bc he wasn't about that life

deadass he would go on stage, perform, walk off stage and go to a whole separate hotel from the other

he would only tell one person where he was at and told them not to call unless for super urgent emergencies

pissed peter grant off so much lmao

wasn't really super close to anyone in the band tbh

but bonzo was probably his greatest friend in the band

jimmy and robert kind of leave him out in my opinion

or they use to

when he found out that jimmy and robert were making their own symbols instead of picking out of a book like he was he said “of course!” and laughed

was pretty much left out of the live aid show

he had to squeeze himself on the stage and wasn't even able to play bass. he had to play the keyboard

“and thank you to my friends for finally remembering my phone number” -savage as hell john paul jones

he was one of the two people who found john bonham dead

it’s sad to think about

is actually quite funny

he has this kind of dry humor?? idk but it’s amazing 10/10 content

when john paul jones walks into the room interviewers break into a sweat

managed to look like a completely different person every year throughout the seventies or is it just my eyes?

has an Instagram account now go follow it for cute throwback photos lol

that’s all i really have for generic useless information about led zeppelin members for beginners. i hope it was somewhat entertaining. i'll make some more beginners stuff for led zeppelin. i will make y'all stan them lmao. i'm tagging @babygotblueeyes bc i know for a fact you want to get into them <3

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duchessofostergotlands · 4 years ago

Note

A Kensington Palace confirmed it to the BBC (but I don’t know if that’s 100% confirmation or not?)

Hey :) So this seems like a good time to differentiate what journalists say:

1) “a Kensington Palace source confirmed” = not an official confirmation. Sometimes that means people in the office who just don’t want to go on record and it’s true. Sometimes it’s someone who has a link to the palace but doesn’t actually spend any time with the royals and is wrong. It just means someone who has/currently is working in or around the Kensington Palace team.

2) “A Kensington Palace spokesperson confirmed/denied” or “Kensington Palace officially confirmed/denied” = official confirmation, the team and the royal going on record as saying something is or isn’t true.

This is what the BBC website said as of 7:03pm when I last checked:

I think some of the confusion is coming from the journalists. Richard Palmer and Rebecca Andrews made tweets about KP confirming it but both of their papers’ articles - including the one written by Rebecca herself - have been updated since their tweets and still state clearly that KP wouldn’t officially comment. There’s definitely a lack of clarity around it which I don’t think anyone involved in the situation is helping!

Also it’s important to note that even if they did confirm it, it wouldn’t necessarily change anything in terms of the veracity of the story. An unofficial source can turn out to be right - like the Meghan and Harry leaving stories and the feud - and an official spokesperson can be fudging the truth (the way Harry’s weed smoking was handled jumps to mind). What it does change for me is that when it comes to something quite major like this I don’t like to start running my mouth unless there’s a confirmation or at the very least a named source on record whose accuracy can be scrutinised because if I post about something unconfirmed and then it turns out it was all a lie I look like a dumb ass and have to walk it all back. I’d rather just wait lol

#ask #anon #british royal family #Prince William #2020

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rocky00 · 4 years ago

Text

The Monster I’ve Become

Inspired by Falling In Reverse - I’m Not A Vampire Revamped

I’ve written this like a script but I’m open to suggestions, hope you like it!

Can you imagine becoming something so evil without asking for it, learning about what you've become, and realising you can't do anything about it or warn people about the threat you pose because the would destroy you?

The scene is set in 1540 a wealthy man and his wife in their 20's are roaming the grounds of their estate on a sunny day

Ct Oswald: There have been rumours amongst the wealthy that a new count will be arriving from a faraway state soon he's quite controversial in his home

wife: why is that darling?

ct Oswald: apparently he acts quite strange?

wife: that's hardly new there are more than a few strange gentlemen in this country

ct Oswald: no, he's a new strange he's rumored never to be seen eating...drinking or sleeping even by his servant's

wife: well that is peculiar? is he a degenerate?

ct Oswald: actually I've been told he's quite intelligent

wife: what's his name?

ct Oswald: His name is Count Ronald of red ruins

wife: that place? I thought it was to be abandoned to the rebellious decades ago?

ct Oswald:....it was

Count Oswald has a troubled look on his face, his wife is puzzled, they continue walking in their gardens processing the information trying to piece it together

The scene cuts to a few days later, it shows a dock on a stormy day, servants are unloading items off of the ship onto carriages. Some of the servants are talking quietly amongst themselves

servant 1: I'm scared to touch this stuff who knows what might happen to us

servant 2: what do you mean, what's wrong with it?

servant 2: you've heard some of the rumours, haven't you? about the owner of these possessions?

servant 1: yes but we still have a job to do no matter what matter of creature they belong to at least he's not here

servant 2: but he might catch our smell or something, track us down?

servant 1: but we're helping him so why would he want to track us down?

As they are talking the owner of the servants catch them talking

Hugh: Oi you two! you're here to work not to spread rumors that's not why I pay you get back to work!

They finish unloading all of the items off of the boat and onto the carriages which are shown winding down a long road to some gates, The camera pans up and shows a large dark house which are nearby some extremely high cliffs.

The next night a posh carriage drives up to the front door of the house the door is opened and a man gets out he has jet long black hair and wears dark/grey clothing he holds a cane although it is just for aesthetic, his head of servants address him

Margaret: everything has been made ready for your arrival sir, is there anything I can get for you, some dinner perhaps?

The Count keeps his eyes forward

ct Ronald: that won't be necessary

Margaret: yes sir...

He enters the house and dismisses the servants for the night. He explores the mansion and comes to an upstairs balcony at the front of the house and takes a deep breath looking fatigued.

The camera pans behind him to see the town and docks in the far distance.

Ct Ronald: it's still as hard to be around these people as I remember I would almost miss that mount of rock and ruins

His hair lightly blowing in the evening wind. The next day the town is busy as the market day has approached, people are out in the sun as horses are pulling into the square marrying heavy loads and expensive goods from other towns and countries. Groups of women can be seen walking together catching up on the latest gossip

Elizabeth: Ladies did you hear the new Count arrived late last night?

Anne: My servants were talking about it this morning apparently his head of house is quite frightened of him, apparently, he's quite intimidating

Mary: but he is a handsome man it seems I've seen his portraits, his quite enchanting you know

Jane: all these men are the same, rumours spread like fire but they just flirt and try to impress everyone

Elinor: I'm quite curious, whilst I was speaking to the captain of the ship which brought him here, he told me some quite unnerving stories about his origins

Elizabeth: Well don't keep us standing here wondering to ourselves enlighten us.

As the ladies wonder about the new arrival to the town the men are also having similar conversations

henry: this chap seems to be quite different from the usual sort we'd have around here, what do you suppose is wrong with him

Gregory: he could be ill in the head I suppose?

Richard: but not enough to have him committed to an asylum

Eric: but he is a strange man there's no denying, mary and I have seen his portrait I don't know what it is about him but there is something I don't like...something dangerous

Gregory scoffs

Gregory: superstitious as usual my friend, it does you no good to overthink these things

Eric: I have my doubts, but I could be wrong after all I have yet to meet him

The day soon runs into the evening and a gathering is held at a noble's house for the wealthy to come and celebrate the host's son returning from battle. As everyone arrives and talks, the newest arrival to the town is announced.

Servant: The Count Ronald Radke

Everyone looks up at the top of the staircase as the count descends, cane in hand dressed in his finery but still unnerves the whole room without saying a single word. He is approached as he takes in his surroundings.

Countess Isabel: Good Evening count Ronald, please allow me to introduce myself I am countess Isabel Rochester it is a pleasure to meet you

ct Ronald: the pleasure is all mine countess

Isabel: We have long awaited your arrival it has been the news of the town for weeks, you have quite the reputation

Ct Ronald: I've heard about these rumours from distant friends

Isabel: rumours are just words that have neither been confirmed nor denied but they are hard to ignore as I'm sure you are aware?

Ct Ronald: I am, unfortunately, I have built up a number of which before even reaching these shores

Isabel: we all hear stories either from friends who have ferried supplies to your island or rumours from people who dare to go near the so-called cursed place

Ct Ronald: do you believe them?

Isabel: come again?

Ct Ronald: do you believe them? the stories of what occurs on the cursed island of the red ruins, the stories about myself? that I am a dark creature that lures people in only for them to never be seen again?

Isabel: I believe what I see Count Ronald and I have not seen any of the stories that have supposedly occurred near that place nor of yourself.

Ct Ronald: so what do you think of me thus far?

Isabel: I think your an enchanting young man, whose past makes me curious yet I thoroughly enjoy our conversation

Ct Ronald: thank you for your compliments

Isabel: may I introduce you to my friends, they are quite eager to meet you?

Ct Ronald: I would like that

The Count takes a deep breath and still without smiling manages to withstand the scents and same old conversations with most of the people attending the gathering, he has grown used to hearing the same questions repeatedly although this had allowed him to practice a few responses for each question without having to reveal too much.

2 days after the gathering starts to struggle with his hunger and need for the only thing he can consume that will satisfy him, he takes his first victim...a servant girl. He wanders to the servant's quarters 2 floors down. Below the kitchen and cleaning areas.

servant girl: Sir, are you alright, may I help you with anything?

Ct Ronald: I am quite alright just lost in my thoughts I hadn't realised where I was going

Servant girl: may I be allowed to escort you back upstairs?

Ct Ronald: Actually I haven't been able to explore the mansion fully would you give me a tour of your quarters.

The servant girl blushes but acknowledges his request and signals for him to follow her. the go through a series of corridors and arrive at the servant quarters she turns to look at him but before she can say a word he grabs her throat and shoves up against the wall

Ct Ronald: Forgive me

His eyes turn red as he bites her neck, blood dripping down her clothes staining her skin a rich red, she tries to struggle but it's no use she is dead in minutes. He makes sure no one is around and covers her in a blanket and carries her body through a door which leads to servant exit outside, he digs a hole in the bushes, and body is covered with mud. he wipes his mouth and hands and covers his shirt and returns inside.

A few hours after

Margaret: Sir have you seen Greta? she is a servant with brown hair she's gone missing

The count realising this must be the girl he disposed of just hours before

Ct Ronald: No I haven't, please inform me if she is found

Margaret: yes sir

Chapter Two

The days go by slowly and the servants start to get concerned with their master's routine, how he is never seen during the day unless it storms, how he never eats or sleeps yet seems to be nourished. After a few weeks, 3 servant girls have supposedly gone missing their deaths were blamed on common men who were seen with them not long before they died who were getting too close when they were rejected.

Joyce: Sir, there is someone to see you

Ct Ronald: who is it?

Joyce: she says she met you briefly at a gathering a few weeks back

Ct Ronald: send her up

A woman walks into the room it is Countess Isabel.

Isabel: nice to see you again Count

Ct Ronald: you too countess to what pleasure do I owe your visit

Isabel: I haven't been able to stop thinking about you these past few weeks

Ct Ronald: I'm flattered

Isabel: please, tell me about your past life before you arrived here

The count considers whether to lie and have her walk away or to actually tell her what he is and the horrendous things he's done...

Ct Ronald: On the island of the red ruins I arrived there having been forced to stay after being kidnapped from my home as a child, I survived for a whole with the other unfortunate people who were abandoned there

Isabel: I've only heard from ferrymen about the horrors that have occurred on that island, are any of them true?

Ct Ronald: whatever do you mean

He already knew what she was going to ask.

Isabel: Is there a creature who lives in the red ruins who has dwelled there since before it earned its name and reputation, who doesn't eat or sleep who only survives on the blood of mortal men?

Ct Ronald: this...is true

The countess gasps

Isabel: so the stories are true? oh, how awful! how his poor victims must have suffered! have you ever seen him?

Ct Ronald: I did...once I felt sorry for him he was terrifying I followed him after he took a woman while everyone slept...I saw him take her life before she had the chance to scream it sent chills through my core and down my spine I will never forget that night

Isabel: does he still dwell there?

Ct Ronald: He left not long ago, I don't know where though

Isabel: that's terrifying, he must have killed hundreds at least! the reports of the population on the island have been going down rapidly over the last few years although that's not entirely a bad thing

He looks out the window as he listens to what the Countess is saying wondering again why such a creature like himself has been allowed to stay between life and death for so long

Isabel: Does it still linger in your mind? the memories of that place?

He has a confused look on his face

CT Ronald: why the sudden interest in what dwells in my head

Isabel: I've been beginning to suspect for a while now

The count knew what she was thinking a skill he could never be rid of unfortunate for him, he had known what she was thinking since they met, she had been suspicious for a while but now she was certain... he would have to make sure no one else found out but he must be careful on how he did it

CT Ronald: what do you mean countess?

Isabel: I have studied so-called men like you before...the ones that come from your island you see they come here to be examined then burned to see if we could find a way to rid this world of the creature from the red ruins

CT Ronald: and have you found a way?

Isabel: my husband suspected that burning was the only way but our test subjects were already dead so we could never be sure

Ronald knew how he could be destroyed after all he was not the first of his kind to dwell in the red ruins...

There was a creature who had been there for thousands of years, she was the one who made him what he is

Isabel: this was until we found the child of another creature who had previously resided there, our fishermen went near the island although it is illegal for civilians, and the child was unaware it was being watched. it was captured and brought back to our dungeons and the governor tested ways to kill it

All Ronald could do while she told her story was sit in horror...he never knew the woman who turned him had produced a child only that she had died mysteriously which was uncommon for their kind.

CT Ronald: what happened to it?

Isabel: eventually the sun came up after days of storms and rain, the guards on duty saw first hand what happens when sunlight touches a vampire. in fact, the screams were almost enough to make you feel sorry for it but not quite

CT Ronald: that's horrific but unfortunate

Isabel: you mean you feel sorry for it?

He knew he had to make sure she didn't suspect him any more than she already did even though the only way to get a vampire to feel empathy is to let it witness the torture and death of its own kind.

CT Ronald: of course not, but after all, it was only a child and did not deserve to live such a life

Isabel looked at him puzzled she didn't know whether he was who she thought or not there were a few signs but in her years of searching and research of these creatures she had never discovered a vampire that did not feel empathy for the torture of its own kind.

The night was beginning to turn late and the count had to make the decision of whether to let this torturer live or whether to kill her as soon as the chance presented itself

Isabel: it's getting late I should be going, this was an...interesting conversation thank you for speaking with me

CT Ronald: the pleasure was all mine countess

The countess smiled but stood still she and the count stood staring at each other until they rushed to each other embracing a rushed kiss, they hurried to his chambers still embracing each others kiss. taking off each other's clothing as quickly as they could he pushed her down onto his bed her hair unravelling, he stood for a moment taking in every inch of her porcelain skin before leaning back in for the kiss, his tongue slips into her mouth and she accepts. As he stood topless over her as she felt every bit of his chiselled pale chest. As he explored her breasts she wrapped herself around him and maneuvered herself so that he was now the one laying down, a surprised look came across his face.

Ct Ronald: I've never seen that done before?

The count said smirking up at Isabel

Isabel: if you like that you're going to love what I'm planning to do

They continued to kiss passionately as she removed his trousers to show what had been hiding inside she smiled at him, his eyes fixated on her, she mounted him, small moans escaping her mouth as bucked her hips making the count moan with pleasure enjoying every minute it wasn't often he could experience these moments of pure pleasure anymore. He is inside her he closes his eyes feeling everything more intense as a vampire it only increases his enjoyment, for a short while he can forget about everything he has done and what he will do in the future and take in this rare occasion. After what seems like a long time their moans get more intense their breathing gets quicker and more passionate, sweat drips from their naked bodies then he looks up at her knowing what her fate will be, she looks down at him mesmerized his hair laid out behind him, his deep brown eyes staring back at her his strong arms guiding her hips, his veins pulsating through his skin, he moves suddenly by grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his waist and standing up so she is resting on his hips he lay her down in the same spot and increased his speed forcing her to let out a load moan he caressed her breasts as her hands clenched his waist, one hand stays taunting her nipple while another moves down her stomach down to her clitoris teasing it while keeping his speed and rhythm he leans down kissing her slipping his tongue in her mouth they both start to reach climx as their breathing starts to get quicker and quicker as the moans get louder then they both start to throb as she releases letting out a deep breath then he does the same forcing another moan from both of them.

He steps away from her breathing heavily and redressing himself while she calms down her own breathing. Isabel has a puzzled look on her face as she starts to redress herself.

Isabel: don't you want to rest with me?

Count Ronald looks out of his balcony at the night sky, stars gleaming down at him

Ct Ronald: I don't do much sleeping

Isabel: Just as I suspected...

Ct Ronald: excuse me?

Isabel: I had my suspicions about you from the start...ever since I saw you for the first time at the gathering

Ronald stood there in silence realising his secret was out

Ct Ronald: and what do you intend to do with this information?

Isabel: I intended to tell my husband so he can come and arrest you to take you to our dungeons

Ct Ronald: are you going to torture me like the others you've found?

Isabel: if I told you that you'd make a run for it and we can't have that. but I suppose since you already know I might as well stop trying to hide it, I love torturing your kind

Ct RONALD: WHY?.... WHY DO YOU DO IT

Isabel: because you creatures are an abomination! you aren't meant to be in this world you're meant to be in hell!

Ct Ronald: I suppose given your way you'd have me talk a walk in the sunlight?

Isabel: you wouldn't get off that easy, and I'm going to make sure you don't

Isabel storms out of the room and down the corridor, but the count is too fast he catches her dragging her back into the bedroom

Ct Ronald: you didn't really think I'd let you leave with you knowing what I am did you?

Isabel struggles trying to break free of his grasp but its no use his strength outmatches her by miles

Ct Ronald: my existence may not be what I wanted but I'm not dying at the hands of mortals

She tries to scream as he reveals sharp fangs that appear from nowhere but he sinks his teeth into her before she has the chance, as she starts to weaken he pulls back for a moment.

Ct Ronald: Now do you believe the stories?

Her eyes widen

Ct Ronald: Everything about the red ruins and creature who lives there is true...ALL OF IT, all the deaths and rumours about the THING who has dwelled there for centuries...it...was all...me....

She tries to scream realising who he really is but he latches onto her neck once again and blood drips down from his mouth as he lays her on the floor her head and neck in his hands, her eyes start to flicker as he drains her of her energy and blood and after only a few seconds her life force disintegrates and she lies lifeless on the floor...

He looks down at his newest kill, the same recurring feeling rising up from inside him...the feeling of disgust and hopelessness.

Ct Ronald: No matter where I go or what I do I always end up doing the same thing over and over...WHY CAN'T I JUST DIE!

Although these moments are not a rare thing he must continue to find ways to survive without being discovered for a vampires death is far worse than their existence

Ct Ronald: How do I make sure this doesn't come back to me? I need to get rid of you first

He takes the countesses body to the same graves he has put the bodies of the servant's girls and some other village people who didn't really have many connections, this way there would be less suspicion when they went missing.

After the body was disposed of he shapeshifted into Isabel, something he could not do for very long, and found Margaret

Ct Ronald: The count has told me to inform you he wants to see no one for the rest of the evening, he needs some time to himself

Margaret: thank you, ma'am, it was nice of you to visit

The count having done this a few times no longer felt nervous to pretend to be his victims anymore, as long as his secret was kept safe he didn't much care what lengths he had to go to. To ensure he covered his tracks completely he also made sure that Isabel's husband Count Bayard (a rather large man) saw her enter their estate and as soon as he got the opportunity he would leave for the morning was soon to arrive.

Chapter 3 coming soon!!

#ronnieradke #falling in reverse #fantasy death imnotavampire

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scoopsgf · 5 years ago

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man oh man, here we go, getting ready to read and i am not ready. Pepper loves Peter so much and my heart HURTS.

(2/9) oh man, the way Pepper doesn't have hope and sure, Pete could come back but when, oh that hurts so badly. My eyes are tearing up.

(3/9) THIS WHOLE FUHREAKING INTERACTION WITH MJ AND STEVE. THE ART, THE ANALYSIS, THE OPEN FRUSTRATION WITH PETER AND NAT, THE EMO STEVE GREEK HERO TRAGEDY WHAT A NERD. Like, I know he blamed Bucky for that, but he's the one who made the reference. What a dork.

(4/9) Okay, but I really get frustrated when people write kids but they don't get kids and you, my friend, write kids really well. Morgan is just, perfect. Also my heart is breaking bc she said Tony isn't her dad and she wants to go home and ouch. Poor Tony.

(5/9) LMAO “Probably would’ve gotten all the way to Yamaha if Daddy hadn’t skipped out on us.” WHAT A ROAST.

(6/9) Ariel and Harley, wow, so beautiful. So good. Such a loser of a dad, who needs him. I just want them to be happyyyyyyyy.

(7/9) MJ and Peter. WHY ARE THEY APART. Side note, whenever I use the word "apart" I think of Halloweentown 2: Kalabar's Revenge when they have to get out of the trash guy's house and the spell is "apart" and "trapa." Anyway. She just loves him and honestly, same.

(8/9) CASSIE AND ARIEL. They could just watch BTR and victorious but you know, it's fine.

(9/9) OH MY GODDDDDDDD. WHAT IN THE SAM HECK. OH MY GOD. DID I JUST MISS RICHARD ENOUGH TO BRING HIM BACK. I LITERALLY SHRIEKED AND MY ROOMMATE IS CONCERNED. BEE WHAT THE EVERLASTING HECK. Also, my roommate came up and I started like adhd rambling about bfs and screaming and RICH IS BACK UNLESS HE ISN'T AND IT'S ALL A LIE. WHAT IS HAPPENING?????

Halloweentown SLAPS that is absolutely VALID. also msmsjks im not confirming or denying anything!! LMAO!!

#asks #rissa-explains-it-all #bfs #twr #keener senior can suck my ass!!#i despise one (1) man #also yeah tony could use a fuckin BREAK huh #geez

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chipoisanook · 5 years ago

Text

Reoccurring Events [Part 1]

Word count: 5,603

A/N: This was an idea I and @xbubblesworldx had where all the Losers have kids. So, we’re trying something out. Part 2 will be written by @xbubblesworldx

What people don’t know is that life always repeated itself in some way. Maybe not so you can see, but it happened. The Losers found this out the hard way.

Georgia turned the page of the book she was reading, though it wasn’t strange to find her with her head in a book, she was every bit of her mother and father. She looked spitting image of her mom, but the way she acted the way she spoke with such confidence. Words on a page spoke to her more than words spilling from someone’s lips, she expressed herself more by allowing the inc to carve out her ideas that sprung into her head. She looked like Audra Phillips alright, but her personality screamed Bill Denbrough. A smile came to her face, a small bubbly laugh leaving into the air as she carried on, eyes moving from the left to the right quickly. Georgia would’ve been there for hours if you let her, however, when the door to the trailer quickly opened, Bill rushing in with an indescribable look on his face, the book had lost her attention.

“Woah, you okay?” She questioned. Georgia scanned over Bill, his chest was heaving up and down quickly but was slowing down with his deep breaths. He was clutching his hand, the one with the scar on. Georgia remembered asking her dad how he got it once but he couldn’t remember. He tried, saying he could’ve sworn it was something to Derry, but what happened wouldn’t come to him. But now? Now it just seemed to be causing him pain. Bill shook his head, swallowing thickly as he spoke. “I uh, just got a call?” Georgia raised a brow, that was strange to her. Her parents got called all the time, especially after everything was confirmed for the movie based off of Bill’s book. “Who was it? You look-” She paused for a moment, looking him over again before continuing. “Shook up.” Bill nodded, fingers massaging the scar on his hand as he cleared his throat. “An old friend, Mike. From Derry.” Georgia’s face filled with confusion. “You’ve never mentioned him before.” As she said this her dad went over to his laptop, as Bill opened the lid he began to type quickly. “We lost touch when I moved away, he wants a reunion. Me and some other old friends.” At this, Georgia’s face lit up. She sat up, sitting on the edge of her seat as her leg bounced up and down. “So that means you’re going back to Derry right?” Bill didn’t even need to answer, his mouth had opened to confirm what Georiga had said, but she cut in before he could. “I wanna come along.” The older male quickly looked away from his laptop, his eyes now locked onto his daughter. As his eyebrows furrowed, Georgia rolled her eyes. “Come on, please? You didn’t talk a lot about Derry, I wanna see what it’s like.” Georgia’s excitement poured out at this and despite the feeling swelling in Bill, the feeling that something bad was going on, the lingering burning sensation the scar gave off, and the hazy memories of Derry, he ignored them all. Instead, he smiled slightly before slowly nodding. “I don’t see why not, but make sure your mom knows too.” A squeal left the girls lips as she practically threw herself onto Bill, who had to press his hand into the seat so he didn’t go flying back. “Thank you! I’ll go tell her now.” And with that Georgia left on a search for Audra. If only she had looked back and seen the hidden fear in Bills eyes.

Fear that had been forgotten for 27 years.

***

Edward grimaced as he stood in the doorway, watching as his dad leaned over the side to throw up. Edward patted his back gently, though trying hard not to comment on what had happened, not yet anyway. “Do you need some water? Any medicine before you go on? I don’t think you should perform when you-” Edward stopped when Richie let out a laugh, not quite genuine, but enough to let Edward know he wasn’t dying. “Calm down small fry, I’m alright. Just some pre-show nerves.” Edward didn’t believe him, not for a second. However, he didn’t push it allowing his nose to scrunch up from the nickname. “Don’t call me that.” Richie laughed again as he ruffled his son hair, before getting dragged away for his comedy act, that was supposed to have started over a minute ago. Edward took time to fix the mess Richie had done to his hair, going back to the dressing room Richie was given. Even if Edward knew all his dads jokes by now, he loved them as though it was his first time, it was almost like Richie had the power to do that, be funny despite knowing what he was going to say.

Though he didn’t like standing backstage, feeling like he was in everyone’s way. Unlike Richie, Edward didn’t have a funny bone in his body. Sure he had a few comebacks up his sleeve. But compared to his dad? Richie took the top of the cake. He was often awkward, and despite Richie being built like a tree, Edward was small, fragile even. It was a surprise to most when Edward was introduced as Richie Tozier’s son, but here he was in all his glory. When Edward got to the dressing room, switching on the TV to watch the live feed of Richies show, he was met with his dad, frozen on stage. Edward almost had the nerves to go back there and drag him off the stage. With Richies distant eyes, the way he stared in front for seconds upon seconds, before mumbling, “I forgot the joke”, proved he certainly wasn’t okay. Although the rest of the show went perfectly after that, Edward couldn’t shake the look his dad had on his face. He was quick to question Richie when he was back, waiting for the show crew to leave the room before speaking. “I know you’re hiding something and that’s fine, but please tell me if it something serious,” Edward begged.

At first, the shorter male didn’t think Richie had heard him or better yet, was too stuck in his mind to hear him. However, Richie just turned around, a smirk dusting his face. “Pack your bag munchkin, we’re going to Derry.” Edwards’s mouth opened quickly, about to complain about the stupid nicknames. Until he took in the uncertainty in his dad’s voice. “Derry? You’re a hometown?” Richie nodded, turning away to grab his phone that was lying on the table. “Yep. I had a call from an old friend who wants to meet up.” Again, Edward had no time to question anything Richie had said, his mouth opened, but Richie was already calling out. “Hurry up or I’m leaving without you.” Edward rolled his eyes at this. He knew what his dad said was a lie. Ever since Richie left him with a babysitter when he was around 5 or 6 and he wouldn’t stop crying for Richie all day, the man hadn’t left him for a full day since. Edward still packed his limited amount of clothes and belongs he had brought with him, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was going on here.

Something in Derry.

***

Richard rubbed the bridge of his nose again, watching his dad mumble to himself as he threw clothes into his suitcase. He had come home with the car a wreck, but when his mom had questioned Eddie about it, squeezing his cheeks in her hands to check over his face he just replied saying he had to leave on a trip. Myra didn’t care much that he had to leave, but Richard certainly was. “So let me get this straight. You got a call from some guy called Mike back at your home town, and ended up crashing the car because of it?” Eddie let out a slight hum, checking over a shirt before throwing it in. “It’s still drivable.” Richard sighed, shaking his head. He watched his dad for a few more minutes, before finally turning away. “I’ll go pack.”

This gained Eddie’s attention, his hands dropping whatever clothing he had hold of as he turned around to watch his son. “No, no, no. You’re staying here.” Eddie didn’t need to see Richards face to hear him scoff, he let out a sigh as he stared at the back of the boys head. “Dick you need to stay here with your mom.” Richard turned as Eddie finished, an unimpressed look shown onto his face. “So she can coddle me every time I’m in her line of sight? I get it enough even when you’re here, I can’t deal with all of her attention.” Eddie wasn’t one to speak. Unlike him, Richard tried hard to not be chained down by Myra, he was braver then Eddie ever was. Though he had to admit, his humour was annoying at times. He wasn’t surprised thanks to that comedian he always watched, Eddie did watch it with him and most of the jokes made him laugh when his son wasn’t repeating them all the time. Myra hated them watching his show, but to be fair, she didn’t like anything unless she picked it out. Eddie knew how strained Richard and Myra’s relationship was, of course, he did.

The mere relief of his son face when he came home was hard to miss. Eddie couldn’t be the one to deny him coming to Derry, he had lived so long alone with Myra and honestly, it was no walk in the park. “Alright, okay. But you stick by me, I can’t remember much about Derry so it might as well be a new place for both of us.” Richard smirked when he got what he wanted, his eyes rolling even when he stuck his thumb up. “You got it, dad. So again, I’m gonna go pack and meet you in the car. You can tell mom I’m coming along.” That was the last thing said before Richard left his parent’s room to his own. Once again, a sigh left Eddie as he picked up the pants he had dropped. Relief washed over him from knowing him and his son would be away for at least a couple of days, which meant true freedom. Still, something chewed at him. Maybe it was just the thought of meeting up with the losers again.

Or the foggy memory of someone he left behind.

*** Lloyd bobbed his head enough so the headphones connect to the walkman didn’t fly off of his head. The lyrics to Please Don’t Go Girl blared from them as he sketched onto the paper, the pencil gliding over with such grace and accuracy, that you could watch the led make up pictures for days. Lloyd jumped when his foot was nudged, head snapping up to see the smiling face of his dad. He smiled, hands flying up to take his headphones off, allowing the real word to take hold of him again. “You packed?” Ben questioned, only to earn a nod from Lloyd as he pointed his pencil over to the back of the door. “Yeah, it’s over there. Finished a couple of minutes ago.” Bens eyes trailed over, a nod following as he went quiet for a moment. Lloyd had many questions about the whole ‘Old friend calling out of the blue,’ but decided to push them down and wait for Ben to explain. He didn’t get half of the answers he wanted, only that they were taking a trip down to Derry to meet some of Bens old friends.

Lloyd wasn’t complaining. Though his dad tried hard to tell him stories of Derry and why he moved there, Ben had often described the memories as distant dreams. Something that tried hard to stay hidden, even if he tried with all his being to get it out. “Are you excited? You might remember something down there.” Ben smiled, a short laugh leaving him as he nodded. “I am. I still remember them all being great friends, even if I can’t recall the best moments. Maybe snippets are the right word.” Lloyd smiled. He had always been interested in his dad’s childhood and most of the things Ben liked Lloyd was right behind like it as well. “Sorry about dragging you with me.” Lloyd pulled his attention back on to Ben again, eyebrows furrowing before he shook his head. “Are you kidding? I wanna see the famous Derry you talk so much about but also, can’t remember much of.” Bens sad smile turned up at hearing this his hand following as he squeezed Lloyds shoulder gently. “I’m glad. Anyway, I better continue packing.” The younger of the two nodded as he watched his dad stand up, hands seemingly having a mind of their own as they went back to the headphones. “Don’t forget to turn everything off when we leave!” He heard Bens’s voice call out earning a quick, “Okay!”, from Lloyd before his word was drowned into music again. Though Lloyds thoughts went back to the many questions he had for his dad but didn’t ask, the biggest one of all of them sticking out clearly in his mind.

Why did his dad look so worried when he realized who was on the phone?

*** The puddles splashed up Isaac’s legs as he rushed down the steps of the house, almost slipping at how fast he turned right to get away from the man. His father. When he was far enough down the street, he turned back to his dad’s screaming at them to get back to the house, his lips burning as the blood was washed away. Isaac’s eyes dragged away again as Beverly grabbed his arm, pulling him away until his dad was no longer in their range of sight. His chest was still heaving quickly, his bag across only one of his shoulders as they walked in silence. Issac already had a bag packed, he knew this day was coming. The day his mom would leave that abusive asshole he had the horrible pleasure of calling dad.

However, he didn’t know it would take a call to do so. He was so quick to come to Beverly’s rescue, earning an elbow to the lip in the process, he had no time to question who was on the phone and where they were going. Isaac jumped when he felt a hand on his cheek, eyes focusing back onto his mom who looked him over with concern, he hadn’t even realised they had stopped. “I’m fine, I’m alright.” Beverly didn’t look convinced, not that he sounded convincing in the first place. Though the subject soon changed from him to Beverly as he glanced at her exposed arms, that were littered in bruises. His mom said nothing more as she quickly pulled down the sleeves to her nightgown, looking away as their slow walk started up again.

“…Where do we go now?” Isaac questioned, the rain causing a shiver to run threw his body. Though right now, it was better than hearing the screams of his mom or hiding another injury so it wouldn’t ruin their perfect family image. “Derry.” The boy turned with a raised eyebrow, though Beverly looked confident in what she had said. “An old friend, Mike, called me. There’s a reunion down there with some other friends.” Isaac nodded as he turned away. It was the best thing they had right now, he couldn’t argue with the set plan his mom had set out. As he felt Beverly’s hand entwined with his, Isaac allowed a shaky breath to leave him. He didn’t know what the future had planned for the two Marshes, but he did know that all their answers now lied in Derry.

Whatever that would bring.

*** The classical music calmed William. His head tilted as he stared at the half-finished bird on the puzzle, watching his father as he placed another puzzle into its rightful place. William was what Stan liked to call, a wild soul. He wasn’t satisfied with following a strict rule set, he’d rather speak out than remain quiet, not keeping his thoughts to himself. What William lacked in Stan’s personality, he made up with the same love for birds. Sure, they both liked them for different reasons, but it was there all the same. Patrica didn’t understand what they found so interesting about them but didn’t once call them out on it. She had her hobbies, and they had theirs.

William ignored the sound of his parents speaking, even the sound of his father’s phone as it went off. He only paid attention when he heard Stan’s voice cut in. “Right Mike, hi.” William ignored the way Stan sounded, taking the last piece from him as he pressed it into the puzzle, completing the puzzle of the bird they had spent a good hour on. “Finally,” William mumbled to himself, his monotone expression breaking as a small smile tugged at his lips. “IT’s back… isn’t it?” As soon as the smile was there, it was gone again, ripped away as he looked back at his father. William finally took note of how Stan looked down at his scarred hand before looking forward again but looking at nothing particular. But the way they shifted, the way he began to clench and unclench his scarred hand. He was scared, but of what? William had no idea.

As Stan ended the call, Patrica turned to him. “Who was calling?” Stan took a moment, again, his attention on his hand. He swallowed thickly before answering. “A-An old friend. He wanted to meet up for a reunion.” Patrica’s smile widened, but William kept his focus on his father. “That sounds nice, I’m guessing you’re gonna go pack?” Stan’s eyes widened at this, fear holding them in place as he thought about going back to Derry. He cleared his throat before shaking his head. “No, I’m not going. Too much work.” William shook his head at this, finally deciding to speak about this call. “Don’t you want to see your old friends? I thought you said they were your best friends?” The older male looked over to his son, thinking over what he said before turning away. “That was a long time ago. I can’t remember much.” William was going to argue again, maybe convince Stan that he should go. However, his father was already leaving the room. “I’ll be in my office.

That’s how William ended up in his room hours later, staring at the ceiling as he thought about what had gone on in the living room. He might have been there all night if he wasn’t pulled from his thoughts upon hearing his mom calling for his dad, asking if he was alright from outside the bathroom door. As William sat up, his eyes scanning over his room, he stopped on his window. There sat a cardinal bird, just staring at him. Its red wings spread out for a moment, before resting again. He was about to grab his camera to take a picture, show it to his dad tomorrow and brag about seeing the bird until the scream rang out. The scream belonging to Patrica.

The camera was dropped to the floor as William ran out from his room, the house filled with the sobs of his mother and the screams falling from his own lips as he pulled the broken woman away from the bathroom floor. If only he thought more about the cardinal bird, he would’ve remembered all too well what the small winged creature represented.

A loved one who has passed.

*** Leroy looked around the busy restaurant, walking beside his father as they followed the woman to a closed-off part that they had booked for the night. Mike smiled, thanking the woman before she walked off. “Do you know who’s coming?” Leroy looked over to Mike as he asked this question. Mike took a moment, looking around the table before answering. “Not exactly, but, none of them said they weren’t coming.” Leroy nodded as he took a seat, waiting for his dad to stop pacing before he spoke again. “What if this doesn’t work? You know what happened last time someone tried to do this and-” Mike looked over at his son, who had one hand gripping at his pant leg. He took a couple of steps before kneeling down in front of him. “Hey, hey. It will work. As long if we all believe it will, it’ll work.” Leroy didn’t look convinced, his mouth opening again to question Mike on it not working again. But it wasn’t his voice that got there first.

“Mike?” The two males turned to be met with another adult and a girl. Mike slowly got up, scanning the male over with a large smile. “Big Bill?” Bill laughed at this, however, he wasn’t expecting Mike to rush up to him, crushing him in a tight hug. Mike laughed loudly which calmed Leorys nerves slightly. “Sorry, sorry.” Bill patted Mike’s shoulder as he let go before turning to the girl behind him. “This is my daughter, Georgia.” Mike smiled, looking back to his son as he spoke. “This is Leroy, my son.” Leroy lifted an awkward hand as he waved, Georgia returning though hers was more confident. “Oh my God.” They all turned at the other new voice, another man and boy now stood where Bill once was. “Eddie?” Bill asked. Eddie slowly nodded, looking over them slowly as he spoke. “I can’t believe we have kids.”

Mike laughed at this whereas Bill smiled again. As they all moved further into the closed-off space Eddie pointed to his own son. “This is Richard-” He didn’t get to carry on as Richard interrupted him. “But you can call me Richie.” Eddie raised a brow, shaking his head as he turned to his two friends. “Just call him Dick if you need to.” This earned a scoff from the boy and most likely a long speech on how he wanted the same nickname of the comedian he loved so much until there was a loud gong. “This meeting of the Losers Club is now in session.”

As they all turned around once again, they were met with three more members of the losers club. Richie, Ben and Beverly. Richie scanned over the faces in front of him, taking a minute on Richard who was gawking at him before he spoke. “I didn’t know there would be so many kids.” It took him a moment before a smirk came to his face, his head sticking back out the closed-off area. “Waitress!” As he turned back, the younger members of the group all knew that day that a smirk from Richie Tozier was never a good thing. “Another table please!”

*** “What the fuck are you laughing at!” Eddie yelled as he pointed at Ben, who just laughed in his face along with the others. The six kids sat around the smaller table, either with their chin resting on their palm, or leaning back on their chair watching them. “I can’t believe they put us on the kiddy table,” Richard said earning a nod from all of them, Georgia sighing before looking away. “Alright, might as well introduce ourselves again. Names Georgia.” The rest of them turned at this figuring that this was better than watching their parents have fun.

“Richard, but call me Richie.” Edward made a face at this, his nose scrunching up as he shook his head. “I’m not calling you that, it’s my dad’s name,” Richard smirked, sending finger guns his way. “Exactly, your dad is awesome. I love his show.” Edward nodded at this, his face still scrunched up. “Yeah, but that’s still weird that you want the same nickname.” Richard scoffed, palms hitting the table as he leaned forward. “Then what’s your name?” Edward leaned away from him slightly, but still answered the question. “Edward.” Richard let out a laugh at this, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Ah-ha, that’s my dad’s full name so you’re weird!” Edwards’s mouth fell open, he was about to argue until he thought about their names and who their fathers were. “Wait a minute.” They both turned to their dads, who were both laughing, grabbing the hands of each other in a handshake before Richard and Edward looked away and back at each other. “They are so gay for each other.”

Lloyd shook his head at this with a small laugh before turning his attention back on all of them. “I’m Lloyd you know, after Frank Lloyd Wright, the famous architect.” As he looked around, they all stared at him with a blank look causing him to sink in his seat. “Just in case you were interested.” Isaac sent him a small smile, reaching over to pat his shoulder. “It’s an interesting fact. I’m Isaac by the way.” When they all managed to actually look at him they all knew they were thinking the same things, however, Georgia was the one to ask. “That looks sore.” Isaac’s hand seemed to move on its own as it touched his lip shrugged as he did so. “Nah, not that much now. It did when I got it.” Silence hung over them for a while, no one really knowing what to say knowing nothing about each other.

Leroy cleared his throat a smile settling once he did. “Well, I’m Leroy. I’ve lived in Derry all my life so, I know the good spots and bad spots about this town.” Richard snorted slightly, leaning back on his chair. “So, have any good stories about this place?” Leroy went quiet, eyes casting down as he thought about any stories. His eyes moved over to his dad, who was too busy laughing and talking about the many years without his friends, that he wasn’t paying attention to him. Leroy beckoning them all closer, which they did, his voice turning to a quiet hush as he spoke. “Well, my dad told me this story of this spiritual being.” He hard one of them laugh again but he quickly shook his head. “You don’t get it. 27 years ago, our parents were up against IT.” They looked to one another, so busy with the story that they didn’t notice the fortune cookies being brought to their parent’s.

“Does this thing have a name?” Georgia mumbled to Leroy as the boy nodded in return. “Yes, its name is-” The screams tore them away from gaining IT’s name. Their parents were moving away from the cookies, but from what? The kids couldn’t see it. They all got up at the same time, though they had no idea whether to go forward and snap them out of whatever they were seeing. “What’s wrong with them?!” Lloyd shouted to Leroy. Though he stood frozen, staring at one of the fortune cookies before moving away with a yell. At this point Mike had already gone for the chair, slamming it onto the table over and over again. “It’s not real! It’s not real!” Isaac made his way to Beverly, mumbling something to her as she was coward back into the corner. The rest did the same, moving to their parents as the waitress came walking in. “Is everything alright in here?” The adults breathed heavily, looking to one another and then to the kids. Richie lifted a hand up, nodding along with it. “Check please.”

*** Georgia watched as the cars pulled out of the car park, leaving only her, Bill, Mike and Leroy. She had to admit, she had never seen her father so shook up. Mike was begging him not to go, and Georgia looked on not really knowing what to do. It was only when Bill agreed to go with Mike, that they were ready to follow the man to where he wanted to go. “Are you Mike Halon?” They turned at the voice. A boy approaching them, his face had a serious tone to it, though his eyes were red and slightly puffy. None of them commented on it however, Mike nodding as he spoke. “That’s me, do I know you?” The boy took a moment, his head shaking causing his curls to shake slightly. “No. My name is William, William Uris. I think you knew my father.” Again, a pin could’ve dropped and everyone would’ve heard it. After Beverly had got hold of Stans wife, they had heard the horrible news of what became of the 7th missing member of the Losers club. “You’re Stans son?” Bill questioned.

William moved his gaze to Bill. However, his eyes narrowed slightly, searching the male up and down before commenting. “Yeah, what’s it to you?” Bill turned to Mike for a second before his attention was back on the boy. “I’m Bill. I was also one of your dad’s friends.” William scanned him over again but nodded nothing less. “We were just heading off if you want to join us?” Mike asked softly. It wasn’t really a question, the two adults would’ve got him to come one way or another. But they wanted it to seem like he had a choice, there was no need to make him more emotional than he already was. William slowly nodded, a quiet, “I came all this way-”, leaving his lips as he followed Mike to his car, getting in the back as Leroy got to the front. Bill getting in his own car with Georgia sitting next to them him. With that, Mike lead on with Bill following close behind.

***

“I need to show Bill something, you can show Georgia and William around the Libary while we’re gone,” Mike said while motioning Bill upstairs with him. Georgia turned in a full circle, looking at the building before she turned back to the two boys. Silence danced around them until she decided to break the silence. “I’m sorry… about your dad.” William turned to her, the same monotone face as before looking back at her. “I heard he was a great man.” At first, Georgia didn’t think he was going to say anything as he looked away. However, she was surprised when he replied to her. “He was.” She nodded, looking at the ground. Leroy smiled sadly before taking a book from its shelf, dusting it off. “There are lots of books around here about Derry’s history if you want to know more about the time.”

Georgia let out a hum, stopping beside Leroy as she looked down at the pages. “About back at the restaurant, you could see what our parents could see. Couldn’t you?” The male froze, eyes not leaving the page before he sent her a smile, passing her the book as he moved along. “There are also other books if your interested, myths, legends.” Georgia raised a brow, placing the book back where it belonged as she followed Leroy. “You’re avoiding the question.“She again didn’t get an answer, instead, he just carried on with what they had in the library. "I also read this good book a couple weeks back about a turtle, very interesting-” As he got around to where William was stood, eyes scanning over the words of a book, Leroy was fast to take it away from him. “Don’t read that!”

The rain was heard from outside as both William and Georgia stared at Leroy, he held the book away from them. Georgia moved forward, attempting to take the book but there was no use. “What don’t you want us knowing about?” Leroy huffed with a shake of his head, the book angled away from her. “It’s nothing. I just know that one of you will want to go there, it’s better you know nothing about it.” William rolled his eyes, snatching the book from the other male’s hand when he was done speaking. “Yonk.” A gasp left Leroy as he reached out to take it back, but William was already finishing reading the page in the book. “What’s so special about an old house?” The book was snatched away again, Leroy slamming it shut as he spoke.

“The Neibolt house isn’t just an old house, and you’d know better not to go anywhere near it.” Georgia and William looked at one another, a frustrated growl leaving Leroy as they did so. “Its an abandoned house but it’s a dangerous, abandoned house. Just don’t speak about this again.” He explained while putting the book back. “You should be able to tell us what’s so bad about it, or we don’t know the dangers,” Georgia said as William nodded, agreeing with her. “Yeah. So a wooden beam might fall on you, so what?” A shrug followed as William said this, but Leroy just shook his head again. “You don’t get it, this-” His words were cut short as Bill came down the stairs, Mike right behind as he nodded at Leroy. “We need to go.” Bill quickly said, leaving the entrance of the library. “What? Where are we going now?” Georgia questioned since she thought they would be there long, though, the only reply she got was from Mike. “We need to stop the others, at the townhouse.”

Both Georgia and William sighed but followed Bill out of the library, Mike and Leroy being the last ones as they shut off the lights, plaguing the library back in darkness.

#bill denbrough #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #mike hanlon #stan uris #the losers club #it chapter two #it chapter 2 #it chapter two spoilers #it chapter 2 spoilers #reddie

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dxmedstudent · 5 years ago

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Denise Phelan was denied an abortion three years ago in circumstances so extreme she still finds it harrowing to speak about it, and does so only because she is determined that no other woman should be forced to go through a similar experience.

“My anger wakes me up at night. It’s a deep, almost in-the-bone anger,” she says. She and her husband, Richard Gosnold, are also still grieving for the loss of their baby, Alenja. Their trauma has been prolonged and they feel it is too late now to try for another pregnancy.

Phelan is one of the many people in Northern Ireland who are fully behind the huge, historic change to the country’s abortion laws that is set to take place in a fortnight’s time. In July MPs voted to decriminalise abortion in Northern Ireland. The new law, spearheaded by MP Stella Creasy, will come into effect on 21 October unless the Northern Ireland executive takes office again before that date.

The change has some powerful opponents – last Monday the four main churches in Northern Ireland jointly called on politicians to get back to Stormont in order to block it. Creasy, meanwhile, has been repeatedly targeted in the past week by anti-abortion activists in her constituency of Walthamstow, east London. Last Thursday things ramped up a notch further when the high court in Belfast ruled that Northern Ireland’s abortion law breached the UK’s human rights commitments. Phelan was not surprised by the intervention by church leaders. “Their statement just confirms my belief that in this country the Catholic and Protestant churches can’t agree on anything except that they hate women and want to control us,” she says.

#abortion #reproductive rights #northern ireland #health #society #feminism

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thatsonemorbidcorvid · 5 years ago

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TW: Abortion, misogyny in medicine.

Her story begins in November 2015 when, aged 40, she found that she was pregnant. “We were anxious but so excited,” she says. “We were thinking, this time next year, there’ll be a little baby,” adds Gosnold. At their 10-week scan they were told their baby had “lovely long legs”.

However, further tests brought devastating news. There was a fatal genetic disorder, which meant that the foetus would die in the womb or at birth. When one medical professional said to the couple: “You can go to the mainland,” Phelan knew exactly what she meant. Gosnold, who is English, did not. “In England you just don’t hear about how things are over here,” he says.

However, Phelan suffers from extreme and debilitating migraine, which is triggered by stress. She became very ill and could not travel. She has legal training and in desperation set about researching her rights. She found there was a mental health clause that could enable her to have a termination in Northern Ireland. Phelan had, not long before this, survived several years of intense depression. The couple were terrified about the potential longterm impact of the dilemma she was now facing. But no one was willing to refer her for an abortion in Belfast.

“I felt as though this wall of religious and political hatred had descended around us,” says Phelan. “We were seeing all these doctors, but it was like a nail was being driven into you and each one of them was driving it one blow further. I realised no one was going to help us. It was cruel beyond belief. It was mental torture.

“We were just set adrift, totally alone. We had no choices. I had to give up. I had to go out and get maternity clothes and people were congratulating me and asking when the baby was due. I was sent to a bereavement midwife at the same time as the baby was still alive and active in my womb. I had to go to antenatal classes.

“We were also told that if the baby was still alive at birth she would be in pain and have to live her brief life on a morphine drip.”

When she was 36 weeks pregnant, Phelan fell as she was out walking. At a scan the next day she said to the doctor, “She’s gone, isn’t she?” The baby died on a Wednesday. The following Monday, birth was induced.

“I went for five days with a dead baby in my womb. The birth was incredibly fast when it started. I was doped up with anti-depressants and diamorphine but I was also vomiting. I didn’t get an epidural. The pain was indescribable. I thought I was being murdered. It was like being stabbed.”

The baby was handed to Gosnold. “Denise said, ‘Richard, what does she look like?’” he says. “I said, ‘She’s beautiful.’ I was lying.” The baby had been dead for almost a week. They named her Alenja because it means precious, a torch of life, and because it was rare, and they would not hear it being called. Phelan held her.

“It was a miracle and a tragedy at the same time,” she says.

When his wife was being discharged, staff asked Gosnold to bring his car to the bottom of a fire escape so that she and the dead baby would not distress other women in the hospital ward next to theirs. “I parked, came back in to help Denise, and when we got down to the car we’d got a parking ticket,” he says.

“I cry every day,” says Phelan. “I had postnatal depression and both of us have had suicidal thoughts. We both suffer from insomnia. I had to leave my job.” Gosnold, who is an artist, was offered medication and put on a waiting list for counselling.

Grainne Teggart at Amnesty International’s Belfast office has given them support and advice, and through solicitor Ciaran Moynagh they have got the backing of the Public Interest Litigation Support Project in pursuing legal redress.

“We need healthcare based on compassion, human rights, and what is medically best for women and girls,” says Phelan. “And we are finally going to get it, no matter what the misogynists say.”

#radfems do interact #radfems please interact #terf safe #terfs do interact #terfs please interact #radfem #misogyny #misogyny in medicine #northern ireland abortion #abortion

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fanfic-scribbles · 7 years ago

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On the Run: Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen: “What is Love” or “Baby Don’t Hurt Me No More”

Masterlist Here

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Avengers; MCU Captain America

Adventure/Romance – James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes/Reader – Female Reader

Warnings: Violence, language, eventual romance, reader character with sassy/abrasive personality

Chapter Summary: You find yourself in a bad way, thanks to your new Hydra pal. He wants to be introduced to Bucky. He should be careful what he wishes for.

Special Chapter Warnings: Reader peril, described torture, violence being visited upon Reader, I don’t know how else to say ‘bad things happen to Reader’

Words: 5954

A/N: I would like to stress that the reader character does not have a super fun time in this chapter and dissociates during periods of torture/interrogation. I was descriptive of it so please take heed; if you need to skip this chapter that is a-okay. Now, that being said…everyone else, please enjoy. Long chapter is long.

Chapter Thirteen: “What is Love” or “Baby Don’t Hurt Me No More”

You are terrified out of your mind, aching from whatever they had injected into you to knock you out, and in pain with a promise of more to come. However, some things just can’t be helped.

Your personality is apparently one of those things.

“Seriously? A dungeon? Do you LARP in your mom’s basement?”

“Do you ever stop talking?” says the wiry looking dork who has brought with him a rolling tray of assorted sharp and blunt objects. Some of them make you want to wet yourself, like the freshly sharpened knives, needles with who-knows-what in them, and a fucking mallet. However, some of them are sort of ‘eh’. Like that old rusted knife that probably can’t hack its way through butter. Ooo, tetanus. So scary. If you were under ten and couldn’t get a booster shot.

Wait, have you had your booster shot? Shit, that might actually be a problem.

But of course, it’s the long, thin, curved knife that the douchebag’s hand hovers over. “I have it on good authority that no, I don’t,” you say and damn it, you're pretty sure he can hear the quiver in your voice. His smile at you confirms it and you look away. Right at Steve, who is strapped down in some kind of tube thing and doing his best concerned face, so you look at the ground instead.

The others are like him too– Sam, Natasha, and even two people you didn’t really expect to be meeting like this: Hawkeye and Iron Man. Most of them are worse for wear and all of them are strapped to gurneys that slant upwards, enclosed in glass covers that you would compare to Snow White’s coffin if these things weren’t filthy with dirt and blood.

It’s hard to avoid looking at everyone when they’re in a half-circle around you. You’re standing, in your underwear, in the center of the room– well, sort of standing. Your wrists are cuffed behind your back and there’s a chain that is wrapped under your arms and shoulders and goes up to the ceiling, while your ankles are chained to the floor to keep you from…wandering, you guess. All that and the most annoying part of this is the grate you’re standing on. The holes are just big enough that if you don’t step carefully your toes get caught in them and that hurts like a bitch and a half when you don’t notice and try to move too fast.

On the plus side, you’re not in an enclosed tube. On the minus side, you’re pretty sure you’re going to be the lesson for everyone who is.

The DM grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. “Focus, sweetheart. I doubt you want to be here all day.”

Your blood rushes at the nickname. “I’m not your ‘sweetheart’, you sack of shit.”

“No, not mine,” he says, looking no less delighted. He purrs your name and you stare at him head on. You’re a woman in the world. If he wants to be the creepiest man you’ve ever met, he’s got some work ahead of him.

Unfortunately he seems to be up for the job, by how he leans in. “That is your name, right?”

“Ugh.” Your nose crinkles at the smell of…an everything bagel? Whatever it is, it does his breath no favors. “Can you breathe somewhere else? I don’t need to know what you had for breakfast. Also, why the rush? You can go brush your teeth; I’ll wait.”

He hits you so fast it stuns you. Your jaw aches and you blink away the stars and immediate pain. Still, at least it’s not a knife. You look at him, playing as cool as you can.

“We have to start slow,” he says and pulls back. “I don’t want to break you before I get my information.” Before you can ask what information you, the creaky fourth wheel on this hellish road trip, can possibly have to offer him, he starts pulling on a smock. “My name is Richard, by the way. I can tell we’re going to be here a while.”

You roll your eyes. Dick. Well, it’s appropriate. “Buddy, I don’t even know what I had for dinner last night. I don’t know what information you’re hoping to get when you probably have more of it than I do.”

“How about that chit chat you had with your boyfriend?” Dick leans in close again. “Hm?”

Well. Shit. Although you didn’t actually find out anything, other than you’d meet up in New York, which is a relief. Not that you’re planning on telling him that, but you figure the less you know, the better.

Dick punches you in the stomach. You gag and try to double over at the force of it. Try, because the chains keep you up enough and don’t give much slack for your effort to preserve those pesky things you like to call ‘internal organs’. You suck in a breath before Dick grabs your hair and yanks your head up. “Where is the Soldier heading?”

“There are a lot of soldiers in this world,” you wheeze. “Though I don’t think I know anybody on active duty.” You think of making a joke about Steve or Sam but ultimately quash it in case you draw Dick’s attention to them. They can probably take a hell of a lot more than you can, but the thought of anyone else being in this position because of you hurts your stomach more than that punch did.

Mother fucking conscience. The second science comes up with a way to surgically remove it you’re going to be first on the sign-up sheet. That thing is nothing but trouble.

Dick punches you harder, making you gasp and pant for air. “You know who I mean,” he says, still creepily level, like nothing about this bothers him at all. Mother fucking Nazis. If you surgically remove your conscience, can you give it away? They need it more than you do, you swear. “Where is the Asset?”

You take a few extra seconds to catch your breath. “You try putting your missing friend on a milk carton?”

Dick backhands you across the face right where he had punched you, only this feels impossibly harder, making you really see stars as a headache begins to swell. You can’t help the way your eyes tear up but you clench your jaw– ow, okay, bad idea. Still, you don’t cry out and that’s something.

“Where is your boyfriend?”

You spit out a little blood. “I don’t have one.” And a tooth. Oy vey; what a mess. “And, uh, if you’re looking to fill the position– buddy, you are going about it the wrong way.”

He presses his lips together into a tight, grim smile, and you weather the hits as they come the best you can. He keeps asking you the same question, ‘where, where, where,’ but you don’t even tell him that you don’t know. Avoiding the topic all together seems safest. As does denying all possible hints of whatever you and Bucky are to each other. You haven’t even gotten a chance to talk about it with Bucky; no way in hell are you talking it out with Dick. He is officially banned from Girls’ Night.

Thankfully, his hitting and occasional kicking is something you can mostly bear. Seriously, high school bullies are more inventive than this shit stain. You kind of sort of really hope it stays that way.

“All right,” Dick says, walking away and sounding as calm as if he hasn’t just been using you as a punching bag. The pain isn’t as bad as you might have thought. Less sharp, more of a constant ache all over, but you’re panting like you’ve gone a few rounds yourself. Fuck, does this make you Rocky? And is it hilarious or awful to cast the wiry white Nazi as Apollo? You’re gonna go with ‘awful’.

Dick comes back. Holding a tape player.

A tape player. Hydra, feared terrorists, ruthless assassins, and government infiltrators, are using fucking cassettes.

God, if Dick plays you his Excellent Eighties mix you’re going to throw yourself on his torture tray and hope something on there hits a vital organ.

“Please, no Air Supply, anything but that,” you say with as much drama as you can muster. It isn’t. Much, that is. You’re a little woozy.

Dick hits play. The tape is scratchy, but you can make it out just fine.

“Wanna tell us who your girlfriend is?” a raspy, strained voice asks. The person sounds pained to a point you can really relate with right now, honestly.

“No,” says your favorite deadly trash vermin. His voice lowers to a register and tone that, frankly, you don’t ever want to hear aimed in your direction. “And you’re going to regret ever finding out about her.”

Dick stops the playback and does an exaggerated shrug.

That’s…huh.

“But the important question is: did he post it on Facebook?” You ‘tsk’ even as that recording plays back in your head. And again. “Not official unless it’s up on the wall.”

Dick hits you again, and again, and again. You take it as well as you can but you’re still left dizzy and barely able to see, between the double-vision and the tears. He stops you from swaying and the weight of his hands on your shoulders makes you tremble. What is he going to do now? “This is your last chance before we get started,” he says, lowly. It’s pretty piss poor compared to Bucky’s looming voice, but Bucky isn’t here. This guy is. “Tell me what you and the Asset spoke about and I will show you mercy.”

Your stomach sinks. You think about feeding him some lies but he’d probably figure it out and then you’d be in even worse shape. Did Bucky even tell you anything of note? You’re pretty sure Dick doesn’t care about your shared emotional immaturity and Bucky only mentioned that everybody was supposed to be heading home. That he would be too. You almost tell Dick that– that Bucky’s going home where he’ll be safe and far the hell away from any Hydra douchebag who wants him– but would that give them a lead, an edge that they could use to hurt him? Is that something Bucky doesn’t want them to know? It’s best to keep quiet, in this case.

Dick pulls up his knife and holds it in front of your eyes. “Going once, going twice…”

You glare at him. “Going go fuck yourself.” You immediately try to brace yourself for the fallout but Dick doesn’t hit you. He does something worse.

He smiles.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he says and presses sharp steel into your flesh.

It’s a weird night. Bucky is silent, in one of his moods, and you’ve had a shit week so you’re not exactly Little Miss Extrovert yourself. Still, you’re going ahead with your plans to make a ‘decent’ dinner by foisting all the work on the guy who had the audacity to complain about the food you buy. Now maybe he’ll appreciate why you go for easy, oven-heated meals.

But as you walk out of your room after changing into something comfier, you find him standing completely still at the counter. As you move around him you see all of the potatoes have been peeled but only one has been chopped up, and another is gripped loosely in his left hand while he stares hard at the giant knife he holds in the other.

Great. This is totally reassuring. “Bucky?” you ask. He doesn’t budge an inch. Yep, totally great to have a former assassin holding a knife and probably having an episode. You take a small step forward, because nobody has ever accused you of being too smart and sensible for your own good. Bucky tells you the opposite whenever he can, in fact. “Bucky, seriously, if you want to check out your hair go use the mirror like a semi-normal person.”

He still shows no sign of life. It’s times like these you wish there was a manual– ‘How to Take Care of Your Formerly-Brainwashed Super Assassin.’ Granted, he’s not ‘yours,’ but he spends enough time at your house that you feel like you have to take partial ownership. Times like these you don’t really want to, but he’s still staring at the knife and you just hope he won't stick it in your brain. “Hey, Trash Panda!”

He flinches and turns his head to look at you with wide eyes. You find yourself a little helpless in the face of such blatant fear, but he schools himself back to his usual aloofness quick enough for it to be just a little blip. Thankfully. You are not good at feelings, though you sometimes try to make an effort at it.

“Geeze, we’re never gonna eat at this rate.” Your version of ‘try’ doesn’t mean you always succeed, but in this case you do get the knife away from him so you can start chopping the potatoes into mostly-okay pieces. Mostly. Bucky observes you quietly for a few moments as you struggle to keep the fucking food equivalent of a bar of soap in your hand without chopping your fingers off.

“That looks painful,” he murmurs.

“I haven’t cut myself,” you say. Yet.

“I meant for the potato.”

You give him the meanest look you can muster but he just looks smug which is totally unfair but even you won't joke about whatever dark place he just visited. So you punch him. Unfortunately, Bucky has turned and your aim is shit, so your knuckles collide with metal. Not terribly hard, but hard enough to cause a little pain, and hard enough to make you drop the knife in surprise, which you fumble to catch like the dumbass you are.

“Ow! Ow!” you whine to both hands, one aching, the other stinging. Bucky pushes you over to the sink to start rinsing the blood off and he quickly holds a kitchen towel to the cut. He’s shaking and for a moment you’re afraid the blood has triggered a bad memory, but when you look at him he’s silently ‘laughing’.

He’s laughing.

“You asshole!” You use your not-cut hand to punch his not-metal shoulder. Even on flesh it doesn’t go much better for you.

“Go sit down,” he chuckles as he bandages you up. “And try not to bludgeon yourself on the coffee table on the way, yeah?”

You’re set to argue out of sheer stubbornness but both of your hands are out of commission and at this rate you’re going to “Final Destination” your way into a truly ignominious death. A strategic retreat from kitchen hell might be in order. “I hate you,” you grumble and shuffle away.

Bucky ruffles your hair and flashes you a genuine smile you haven’t seen on his face before. “No you don’t.”

Dick makes a small but deep cut in your neck that makes you gasp for how much blood flows out. It’s not technically as bad as some of the others he’s carved into you– that one on your leg is tough to look at– but going out via slit throat seems like a real bad time to you.

But Dick is there, with a cloth and, “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’d never let you bleed out so soon. We’re just getting started. Unless you want to cooperate and tell me where the Soldier– where your Sergeant Barnes is heading?”

The way he sneers, like Bucky doesn’t deserve a goddamn name, makes Rational Thought and Reasonable Discourse take a backseat. Right into the trunk. “Cancun. He needs a nice beach vacation.”

Dick slaps you. You give a half-hearted shrug. As much as you can while strung up, anyway. “Yeah, I told him the Bahamas look much nicer, but what can you do?”

He puts his fingers over a gash he made in your shoulder and pushes them in. You scream but he doesn’t stop and for seconds that feel like minutes that feel like hours you can only think I won't give him up I won't give him up I won't I won't I won–

But why? Why won't you? Not that you’ve ever made a habit of selling out people you care about, but you hate pain and you always figured you’d crack like an egg if anybody ever threatened you with so much as a papercut. The question is worth examining if only to find out why your sanity and self-preservation have left the building.

The answer comes in a flash of pain and isn’t that just the most appropriate thing ever? You actually laugh. Dick grabs a handful of your hair and yanks your head back. “What’s so funny?”

“Hell of a time to have a revelation,” you mumble, still chuckling. It’s sort of funny. You had assumed you care so much about Bucky because you can maybe, some day, sort of, perhaps, in the future, possibly, eventually, kind of come to love that insufferable asshole.

You hadn’t really stopped to consider that you’re already there.

Stupid fucking trash panda. But then what does that make you? Ugh. Best not to think about it right now.

Ice cold water is dumped over you and you yell out in surprise. Dick’s mom’s basement is already chilly but the arctic shower you just took is so cold that your body isn’t shivering so much as it’s spasming.

“Don’t worry,” Dick says, going through a toolbox he’s pulled up. “I’ll find something to warm you up.”

It’s hot and miserable. You’ve been trying to sleep for hours, but the night is relentless and you decide to stop sweating through your sheets for a few minutes.

You get to the living room and jump about five feet. Wow, okay, Bucky’s home apparently. “I thought you said you weren’t a robot,” you say as you approach him. He continues to stare blankly at the window. Out of the window? No, definitely just at. Shit, but that expression is too familiar to be good. Still, you stand next to him. “But normal humans don’t sleep like that.”

He blinks. “What?” he asks.

“Where’s your head at?” you ask back.

He presses the hot poker against your collarbone and you scream. It’s harder to tune this out when the cuts simultaneously burn. You’re starting to sweat.

“I told you I’d warm you up,” Dick says and pushes your head to one side, leaving a broad expanse of your neck wide open.

Bucky shakes his head. “Nowhere good,” he mumbles. His throat pulses with a swallow. “I shoulda stayed gone. It’s too fuckin’ hot.”

“Man, you’re tellin’ me.” you fan yourself. “I didn’t know you got back already. You’re lucky I’m wearing clothes.”

“I don’t know if I’d call that ‘lucky,’ doll.”

You choke on air. “Well, Mr. Barnes, I do declare!” you manage to say as he chuckles. It gets quiet again and Bucky looks a little less unnerved, but still not quite relaxed. He’s still…

“What?” he asks you.

There’s no nice way for you to ask this question. So maybe you shouldn’t. But he’s staring at you and ugh, you might as well just ask and deal with the fallout. “Does your head ever go anywhere good?” you say and lean against the couch arm. “You remember stuff before Hydra…is any of it good?”

He looks thoughtful, not angry, so that’s something. “Sometimes.” He squints, like there’s something only he can see in the distance. His lips quirk into a slight smile. “Cool bottles, hot night. Steve laughing about something.”

From the way the smile molds to his face you assume there’s more to that than he’s saying, but that’s okay. He looks content so you go to the kitchen and turn the faucet on, letting it run until it’s cold while you grab a few things.

When you return to the living room it’s with two wet, cold dishtowels and fresh-out-of-the-fridge beer bottles. You’re already wearing your towel and when you drape the other one around the back of Bucky’s neck he lets out a satisfying little groan.

You plop down next to him. “Sounds nice, but it must have been hard not to actually get your drink while it was cold.” But as you hold the sweating bottle to your cheek, you can see the appeal.

Bucky grunts his agreement and holds up his frosty beverage. You hit yours to it and you both take long pulls, and settle in to suffer together.

Dick drags the hot point down your back and you scream and try to pull away but he holds you steady. Your blood feels like fire, molten streaming down your back. He says “hm” in a pleased tone of voice, like his little lightsaber fantasy has been satisfied. Fucking thank god, though, he walks back around to your front and puts the poker down.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” Dick says, pulling off his torture-approved oven mitts. “You’ve lasted almost six hours already.”

How is it possibly still the same day? You want to ask but all you can do is drool.

“What’s wrong? No smart comments?”

You roll your eyes and pull up some energy by the sheer power of your assholery. “Buddy…if I was…a…vegetable…I’d still be…smarter than…you.” You breathe deep and force yourself to stand upright. “No comments needed.”

Dick grins. “I’m glad to see you haven’t broken yet.” He smooths your hair back. “I’ll let you rest up a bit and we’ll pick this up later.”

You’re spent so you can’t even pretend to fight back when he has two of his buddies come in and unhook you. Everything is stiff and doesn’t want to move and you almost wish they weren’t taking you down. Almost. Though it’s not much better when they stick you in the most uncomfortable chair you’ve experienced outside of a Pier One or Ikea and strap you down.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed until you’re getting doused with cold water yet again and Dick says, “Rise and shine, sweetheart!”

“Buddy, words cannot express just how much I am not here for your “Flashdance” fetish,” you stammer through chattering teeth.

“It sounds like you had a nice nap,” Dick says and pulls up a chair. “I’m glad. Are you ready to chat, yet? If not, we can get started right away.”

This guy is such a tool. “What part of ‘fuck off’ confuses you?”

He holds his heart– or at least, the space where it should be– and mocks a sad expression. “Sweetheart, I thought we were friends. You keep calling me ‘buddy’.”

“You’re right, so sorry. It’s ‘Dick’, right?”

“Richard, actually.”

“Pretty sure that’s what I just said.”

He grips your thigh and digs his thumbnail into the long, jagged cut, dragging his thumb down and through, splitting the wound and making it bleed once more.

You don’t scream but you choke and gasp and hiss, “Son of a bitch!”

“I like that one. We’ll keep it open,” he murmurs. He smiles bigger and says, normally, “I prefer ‘buddy’.”

“Too bad, Dick.” Seriously, what does he take you for. Wait, it’s probably better not to know. “Though if you stop with the stupid nickname you have for me, I’ll consider dropping the one I have for you.” Unlikely to actually happen, but it seems charitable to at least offer to think about it. You’re nice like that.

“What, ‘sweetheart’? But you are one.” He leans closer. “Will you be my sweetheart?”

Your face almost twists right off your body, you’re so grossed out by the idea. “Ohhhh, ugghhhhh. Man, I’d rather sit through a six-hour lecture on safe sex as given by Captain America.” Actually, when you think about it, that sounds kind of hilarious. “Or I’d rather–” have Dick cut out your ‘sweet’ (gross) ‘heart’ out with the tetanus knife.

“You’d rather…” Dick prompts.

“Eh, I’m not gonna say it because you might actually do it.” Sick bastard.

“If it hurts, then it’s likely.” Dick smiles again and pats your cheek. The touch is light but it still makes you flinch. “It’s all right, I understand. You’re taken.”

You're not getting into that again, so you keep quiet. Dick stands up, looks at the ground, and nods his approval before going to the corner of the room to get something. You glance at the floor but it’s just the same old grate underneath you and flat floor everywhere else. Nothing special.

He rolls over a weird looking box-thing, with dials and switches all over the top and a bundle of wires piled on top. “I’m very excited to share this with you,” he says and starts untangling the wires, pausing to show you two circular pads. “It’s not the exact unit, but this treatment was your boyfriend’s favorite.”

You stare at them for a moment, until it hits you.

You’ve never killed anyone in your life, but if you had to kill him, you’d do it right now without hesitation, and you know it wouldn’t keep you up at night.

“Oh!” Dick laughs. That fucking monster laughs. “He told you about this.”

Not in so many words, which makes it worse. You’re not comfortable with this asshole knowing that, though, so you play it off with a little shrug. “Or I saw it on the news or in an interview or something. There was a lot about the Winter Soldier.” You look him right in the eyes. “Especially when he started kicking you guys right in the teeth.”

Dick smiles patiently and holds the pads up. God, is this how they looked when they hooked Bucky up? Did they smile, laugh, joke when they did this to him? You had a TENS unit, once. The day Bucky had seen you put it on your shoulders– well, it was the one time you had feared Bucky. Feared and been so sad for him. That expression on his face was not, is not, one you ever, ever want to see again.

Something that can hurt Bucky like that absolutely terrifies you. Is it just torture? Or will they do to you what they did to him? Will they strip you down and make you forget?

Also, fuck your life where you can think of anything as ‘just torture’.

As Dick is about to stick those wires to you, a door swings open in the distance. Somewhere over…fuck, you can’t even pretend to know. Or care. But some other guy calls out something in not-English and Dick responds likewise, and they converse for a few moments.

Dick sighs and puts down the wiring, and as much as you don’t want him to know how scared you are, you can’t help how your whole body sags with relief. “I have to go report in, but I’ll be right back,” he says and leaves.

You tug at chains and straps but they don’t get any looser and you certainly haven’t gotten any stronger in the past five minutes. Still, it seems better than sitting and waiting for Farquad to mosey on back.

You haven’t checked on the others yet– you’ve periodically forgotten that they’re there– and you still don’t want to. If they’re alive then they’ve been watching you get worked over and you’re not a fan of however they’re going to look at you. You don’t know how much they’ve heard but there have to get air in there somehow.

Unless they’re all dead…

Fuck it. You do a quick scan to make sure everyone’s alive and you ignore Steve’s attempt to keep your attention. Whatever he needs you to do, you don’t think you’re capable, and doesn’t that just suck. If Natasha and you were switched she probably would have snapped Dick’s neck by now. You’d be out of here, not getting–

Gunshots sound on the level above you and your heart leaps into your throat. You pull on the restraints– again, not any looser, but the thought of being trapped in the open while guns are going off is terrifying.

The door slams open and Dick runs in, blood on his face and looking alarmed. Well, that’s a sight. You don’t really get to enjoy it though; he scrambles behind you, grabs your chin and pins your head to his stomach as he presses his gun to your temple. And then you…wait.

Not for long, though. You didn’t hear anyone follow Dick down but there Bucky is, sliding out of the shadows like a ghost rematerializing. You’re speechless in the presence of him. He’s standing tall, suited up in all black, and already wearing what you assume is his best murder face. But then he looks around at his friends, trapped, and then at you, and if you were Dick you’d wet yourself at the look Bucky is giving him.

Then again, if you were Dick, you would have made very different life choices leading up to now, so, to each their own and all that.

“Put the gun down,” Bucky says, while wielding his own. At Dick. Who is right behind you.

Bucky’s murder face is suddenly way, way, way less attractive.

“No, that’s not how this is going to work.” Dick presses the gun even closer. “Stand down, Soldier.”

Bucky stares at him. This really, really sucks, but all you can do is hope it’s quick and…and…

Bucky unloads the ammo from the gun, letting it fall to the floor before he tosses the gun itself far away from him. But Dick doesn’t let up on you. “All of your weapons, Soldier. I’m not stupid.”

“That’s debatable,” you mutter as Bucky rolls his eyes. Well, at least you’re in agreement on that. But Bucky starts removing weapons from his person– knives, guns, holy hell are those bombs, clips, rounds, and things you’re glad you can’t identify. At the rate the pile of death is growing, you have to consider your trash panda is really more of a murder squirrel. The last thing Bucky throws on the pile is a knife smaller than the two Bowies already buried and it’s all so ridiculous you almost laugh. Almost, because Dick still has a gun to your head and that is not conducive to hilarity.

“Upstairs is almost cleared out,” Bucky says. “You should either try to kill me now or surrender already. You’re not walking out of here.”

“Well…not alone,” Dick says. He says a word in Russian that makes Bucky go stiff and wide-eyed. Dick says another and Bucky jerks, like he’s going for one of his weapons, but then Dick smashes your head with the gun and Bucky stops at your cry of pain.

You’re a little woozy but then Dick says another word and finally, finally you get it. And swallow your heart. “Bucky– no!” you shout over the next word, hoping Bucky will just fucking run or something, but he doesn’t, he stays where he is, why is he still standing there?! Dick grabs your head by your mouth and the silence is punctuated with the last few words.

Bucky goes slack– not falling, but he’s no longer so tense. His expression goes flat, and his eyes–

–you can’t look at them for more than a second. There’s nothing of him in there. No Bucky, no Trash Panda, no person.

The Winter Soldier speaks in Russian and you want to wake up now. Because this– this can’t be happening. Bucky can’t drop his weapons because of you. Bucky can’t be forced to listen to those words because of you.

Bucky can’t be lost because of you.

Dick takes the gun away from your head. You don’t feel any safer for it. “How many did you bring with you, Soldier?” he asks, breathing easier. You hate him with every part of your fucking salty soul.

“Twelve.”

Dick practically hisses. “Damn,” he says and walks around. You assume he’s looking at the others but you can’t stop looking at–…at Bucky. At where Bucky was. Still is. You feel dizzy. Passing out would be real nice right now.

“We have no time to take care of the rest. Shame. But…” Dick goes to stand next to Bucky. He puts his gun in Bucky’s hand.

“Let’s make sure you never want to come out of being the weapon you were always meant to be,” Dick says. “Kill her.”

Bucky takes aim and you can only stare dumbly at them. At Dick, smirking, and at Bucky, so cold and distant. Bucky never talked about what Steve did to snap him out of it. He only said that Steve had almost died because of it. And you don’t have that history. You don’t have that innate level of friendship and love. You have less than a year of memories, some good, some bad, and a lot of ‘maybe’s that could have been.

The shot rings out, and you wonder why you don’t feel any pain.

Until Dick crumples to the ground.

Bucky drops his hand, still holding the gun. “Moron,” he sneers at the body and then looks at you, back to his resting murder face and with life back in his eyes.

You…

You breathe.

Deeply.

Bucky is going to regret not shooting you because you are going to murder the FUCK out of him.

You keep the growing well of rage and upset down while he, with some effort, rips the lid off Natasha’s tube, unstraps her, and snaps something in Russian that has her running to Dick’s body. You even hold it together when Bucky puts his hands on you and braces you while he rips at straps and chains like they’re Silly Putty.

It’s when he’s helping you up and you start to fall, only for him to catch you by wrapping his arms around you, that you lose it. “You– you fucking jerk! You bastard!” You hit him. Not hard; you aren’t capable of it and you don’t really want to hurt hurt him, not really, but– “You asshole you scared the shit out of me!”

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair and, shit, he looks really good. Full-bodied and healthy, like he’s eating enough, and his hair is all soft, and is this some sort of weird halo effect from him saving you? Would you be eyeing Steve this much if he had shot the guy?

Ugh. That’s a gross thought.

“It was necessary.” Bucky is half carrying you because your body is in a state of ‘just don’t wanna’ that you feel you can’t be blamed for. “It’s good that you believed it, because he had to.”

It makes sense. It worked. Still. “You’re the fucking worst,” you mumble and lean into him, intending to rest your eyes for just a second. “Officially my least favorite trash panda. Even under that bastard that left a torn up garbage bag in the middle of the sidewalk.”

He chuckles. “I missed you too,” he says with a warmth that you’re convinced you’re imagining. Heroic rescue is a hell of a drug.

“No you didn’t.” Tears slip down your cheeks. “You weren’t ever going to come back. You would have stayed gone forever.”

He sighs. “It was better. Safer.”

After the past couple of days– actually, the past week plus, you have an itemized list on just how much bullshit that is. You can give a lecture on it, even without updating it to include right now. Luckily for him, exhaustion pulls you out of consciousness before you can start your presentation, but he is gonna fucking get it later.

Maybe you’ll make a PowerPoint.

User Tag List: @gravity-9-8 @grey-stardancer @asslikegilinsky @howdoesoneadult @projectxhappiness @jadepc @fandomlover03

#bucky x reader #avengers reader insert #avengers fanfic #james bucky barnes #reader insert #on the run #torture

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breyito · 7 years ago

Text

Of Friendship and Affection

This is the story I’ve been working on for the Peter & Tony Big Bang . I had the pleasure to work with the awesome @hereandnowwearealive who made gorgeous art for this fic. Go check her stuff!

Tittle: Of Friendship and Affection

Summary: After the secret is out of the bag (literally), Peter has to include his Aunt on the superhero thing. Tony is all for, especially if it means getting to see embarrassing photos of his newest protegé. Giving life advice is not something Tony is particularly good at; but fortunately, when it comes to best friends he’s had a pretty good run. (His health might not be ready for all the mini-heart attacks this kid gives him on a daily basis, though.)

Word count: 9k

Pairings/Relationships: Tony Stark&Peter Parker, Ned Leeds&Peter Parker, May Parker&Peter Parker, Michelle Jones&Peter Parker

Rating: T

Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence

Notes: this is set after Spider-Man: Homecoming; but in between the fight with the Vulture and Happy picking Peter from school there's a two week window, where Peter has gone out many nights (in his old suit) with Ned as his back-up.

“So” Aunt May started; after all the screaming died down a bit. “Who else knows about this ‘hero-business’?” she asked. Peter knew she already suspected Mr. Stark (the date of his brand-new scholarship and the Leipzig Airport battle was too close to deny anything); she just wanted him to confirm it.

“Well…Ned and…Mr. Stark are the ones that know.” Besides Mr. Toomes, the Vulture, who had zero issues with killing me, he thought. Yeah, maybe leave that detail for later.

“Mr. Stark. Of course he knows. How else would you have a suit like that? It’s his tech, isn’t it?” at Peter’s nod, she got up and started pacing. “He is a manipulative bastard! How can he force you to-to do this just to get a scholarship!?”

“Ma-”

“I have to go to the police. Tell them what he’s doing.”

“May-”

“No, no, not the police.” Peter relaxed. Bad move. “The police won’t believe me; or Stark can buy them. The news, I have to go to the news. They will air the story-”

“Aunt May!” Peter yelled. She suddenly stopped and looked at him with wide eyes. “Aunt May, please, sit down.” She did. “Listen to me; ok? I got these powers months before meeting Tony Stark. The reason I met him at all is because I was…stopping crime and catching buses with my bare hands and people recorded it and posted those videos online. He tracked it down to me. He never forced me to do anything, okay?”

“But…but what about that retreat? He took you to Germany, didn’t he?” She asked. “He gave you that suit and made you go, right? He…he took you into a battle against the Avengers! You could have been hurt! Colonel Rhodes got paralyzed…oh my god, that could have been you!” Peter could see that May was starting to get mad again, so he quickly intervened.

“It wasn’t supposed to be a battle at all. I was just there to web feet together and ‘increase numbers’. Mr. Stark never thought Rogers would take things that far.”

“Never mind that! You are a minor. And he gave you a, a super suit and led you to battle; and then let you keep the armored suit!”

“He knew that I was never going to stop trying to help people!” May tried to say something but Peter interrupted her. “Going against a mugger, with-with a knife-”

“Knife!?” she choked out.

“-or or a gun-”

“A gun!? Peter, oh my god-!”

“-would you rather me wearing pajamas or a full Kevlar suit? A, a suit that can warm me up when it’s cold and contacts Mr. Stark immediately if things go wrong and has this amazing AI that helps me with everything I ask her to and…” he drifted off. He swallowed and looked into his aunt’s eyes. “Mr. Stark has been taking care of me. He tried to keep his distance to not give me more ideas than the ones I already have, but you can see that it didn’t work.” May snorted a little laugh. “Aunt May…he realized the second he confronted me that I wasn’t going to stop. Because I’m not. And he saw that and decided to help me and protect me.”

May stayed quiet for a long time, before she exhaled and nodded to herself; her mind resolved.

“…Aunt May?” Peter asked, nervous.

“I’m guessing you have Mr. Stark’s phone number?” she asked, standing. Peter nodded. “Well, I think it’s time he and I have a talk, about training sessions and responsibility. Come, Peter.” With that, she left the room. Peter swallowed, contemplating whether he could just go live under a bridge to avoid the humiliation of his aunt lecturing Mr. Stark.

“Peter!” May yelled from the living room, impatient.

Yeah, probably not.

---{}---

“Mr. Stark!” Peter said, surprised, after opening the door of his apartment.

“Hello, kid.” Tony smiled at him, amused.

“What are you doing here?” the teen asked nervously, looking back at the living room, where his Aunt May was. She turned and smiled at the engineer.

“I invited him” she answered. “I thought dinner might be a good time for the three of us to talk about responsibility and your training regime in person.” She waved Tony in, and Peter just stood there, frozen for a moment; then he closed the door.

Man, this won’t be good for me, he thought, grimacing.

“Tony, you shouldn’t have bothered!” he heard May say, peaking in the bags the engineer had passed to her. “I told you I wanted to cook.”

“Exactly” Tony answered. Peter swallowed a snort. “I thought you shouldn’t come home after working all day in a hospital (I’m sure that’s very exhausting) and have to cook on top of that.” He added, with a winning smile. Smooth, Peter thought.

“Well, thank you. This Italian looks great. I didn’t know Paola’s made take out.”

“They don’t, unless it’s for me.” The engineer winked. “My mother was friends with the owner for decades. She’s known me since before I could walk.”

“That’s cute.” Aunt May said, with a glint in her eyes. “Maybe I should show you some photos of Peter before he could walk, after dinner.”

“What!? No!” yelled the teen, embarrassed.

“Oh, I’d love that.” Tony laughed. Peter huffed and left the kitchen, towards his bedroom.

He didn’t realize the other man was following him until it was too late.

“So" Tony started, looking around the teen's bedroom "that 'really old movie' uh?" he said, with a smug ass grin on his face as he walked to the desk; where the Lego Death Star sat proudly. Peter's cheeks went bright red.

"Ididn'twantyoutothinkIwasanerd." The kid muttered, looking down.

"Sorry; what was that?" said the inventor, putting his hand around his ear "I couldn't hear it because I am really old." he laughed.

"Mr. Stark!" Peter whined, face flaming red. "Stop it" he mumbled with his face buried in a pillow.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop." he chuckled.

“Uff. I didn’t want you to think I was a nerd, alright? I had just met you; my life-long hero, and you asked me to join the Avengers on a mission, and took me to Germany even though I had never been out of the country; and you gave me this crazy new suit and then we were in the middle of a fight with the other Avengers and Colonel Rhodes was on the comms with us and I had a part of a plan but it was because of this movie that most of my classmates have never seen and laugh at us because we did and…and you were all so cool and I was already the youngest person there and I didn’t want to seem like a such nerd.” Peter finishes his rant, only breathing then.

There were a few moments of silence and Peter felt his face (which had gone back to a quasi-normal in his speech) go slowly back to a tomato red.

"First of all; w-ow.” Tony said, eyes wide. “I’ve never met another person (besides myself) that could talk for two minutes without breathing before.” Then he took a deep breath “And two; you do know who you are working with, right?” he laughed “You really think that Rhodey and I are anything but nerds? We both graduated MIT (even if I started at 14). We got to watch the original Star Wars trilogy on theaters (even if we were nothing but kids). We went to see ‘Star Trek V: The Final Frontier’ on the first weekend (good god; that makes me sound so fucking old). He is a legit rocket scientist. I build robots and have been creating AIs since I was 17. If there’s something we’re never going to laugh at you for, is for being a nerd. Because so are we, kid. And we are the coolest.” He winked.

Peter didn’t know if he should be relieved, laugh hysterically or go back to bury his head in the pillow by his side.

“Hurry up, kiddo. I’m sure the food’s ready. Besides, your Aunt said she wanted to show me some pictures of you, and I don’t want to miss the opportunity.” Tony said from the doorway.

Living with his head in the pillow sounded great right about now. Just a normal Friday family dinner, right? Peter thought sarcastically, groaning into the fabric.

---{}---

The dinner went surprisingly okay, actually. Mr. Stark brought enough food to make him feel full, and it was so delicious Peter was already thinking about a midnight snack. They even had gelato!

Yes, dinner went great. Which meant that whatever happened afterwards was not going to be good for him. Peter, unfortunately, didn’t know that. So when he, after brushing his teeth and putting on his pajamas, went to say goodbye to his aunt and Mr. Stark, was completely unprepared for what he saw. May and Mr. Stark were sitting on the couch, his aunt holding open an album-his baby album and showing it to the other man.

“And here it’s the robot Richard (his father) bought him for his second birthday.” She pointed to another picture. “Ooh! We took this one because he picked the flower in the park and wouldn’t let go of it until his mother came home.” Tony had a big grin on his face and a particular shine in his eyes, looking at the pictures, thinking about how adorable the kid was, even as an squishy and drooling miniature human.

Peter froze on the threshold and then made a strangled noise so high Aunt May jumped thinking it was a mouse (he would deny until forever that the noise came from him, though).

“Aunt May!” he yelled. “How could you!?” he asked, rushing to take the sky blue monstrosity, full of incriminating and mortifying pictures of his earlier years, out of the enemy’s hands. But Tony took the damned thing from May and danced away. Cue an impromptu chase in the living room, with Peter trying his best to grab the album and the engineer laughing and twirling, looking at more and more pictures. He even cooed at them!

Aunt May looked on from the couch, amused and entertained. Peter could feel his face flaming at every turned page. Then the inventor suddenly stopped cold.

“You had an Iron Man mask?” Tony asked; eyes wide open. “And cut-off gloves painted as repulsors?” he continued, pale all of the sudden.

“…Yes?” Peter answered, confused.

“You were that kid at the expo…” Mr. Stark murmured, looking straight into Peter’s eyes. Peter didn’t understand why the engineer would look at him with such intensity over a simple mask- then he remembered, and froze again. He looked over at May, whom had a weird expression on her face.

“Um, y-yeah, I went to the 2010 expo. Uncle Ben took me.” He said, hoping Tony would understand and not say a word about the crazy robot almost killing him. “May was working and couldn’t come.”

“…Oh” said Tony. “Right.” He glanced at the nurse, and cleared his throat. “Sorry, bad memories” he said. His smile looked a bit forced, but May took care of that when she commented that neither she nor Ben could convince Peter to take off that mask for anything else than eating for two weeks. Peter gladly took the embarrassment over that dark look on Mr. Stark’s eyes.

And when the engineer rushed to leave the apartment; Peter excused himself to his bedroom and waited for him to say his goodbyes. When Tony closed the door, Peter started to climb down the wall of the building. He yelled a ‘Mr. Stark!’ and jumped, landing in front of the other man.

“Damn it, kid.” Tony muttered, with a hand on his chest. “Heart condition, remember?”

“S-sorry, Mr. Stark, but I, I couldn’t let you leave like that.” Peter said with a frown on his face.

“Like what?” the engineer asked, taking off his glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose. “Like you didn’t almost get killed because of me before I even knew who you are?”

“That wasn’t your fault!” Peter exclaimed, offended.

“Not my-? Kid, it was my expo!” he shouted.

“Yeah, but the robots weren’t your doing! If I remember correctly, it was Hammer and Vanko and the freaking American Army that screwed up; not you.” The kid said, crossing his arms. Tony could almost physically see the stubbornness radiating out of the kid.

“Air Force.” He said. At Peter’s confused look he clarified “It was the Air Force, not the Army. Rhodey hammered the difference into me decades ago. He’ll chew your ear off if you confuse them when he’s around.”

“I get to met War Machine?” Peter said, awed. Then he cleared his throat and straightened his back. “Still. It wasn’t your fault. I was a stupid kid and didn’t run and stayed there like my gloves could take out a, a fucking robot. Ben was so mad at me. After you took off, he found me and made me promise never to tell Aunt May.” The teen looked sheepishly at the engineer. “So please don’t tell her?” Tony sighed.

“Alright, alright. This stays between us.” Peter’s smile was big and contagious, so Tony didn’t have a choice but to give him a small one back. “But I reserve the right to use this if you ever misbehave and you need a time out. I’m sure she’ll ground you for a few days.”

The betrayed look that passed the teen’s face was funny and the chocked and high ‘Mr. Stark!’ that followed was hilarious. The engineer laughed for a few moments, before he put his hand on Peter’s shoulder, opening his mouth. Before he could say anything, though, he was interrupted.

“Nice pants, Peter.” said a neighbor that was entering the building, winking at him. Peter’s face flushed for a second, but then he breathed and answered with a huge smile.

“Thanks, Nicky! They were a present and are really comfortable. I’m sure I can get you a pair to go with your ‘punk Hello Kitty’ shirt.”

“Cool!” said the woman, before waving at the pair and closing the door. When Peter turned to face Mr. Stark again, the man had a flabbergasted expression on his face.

“What?” asked the teen, feeling self-conscious.

“Nothing, just…That…did not played out the way I was expecting.” The engineer said, shaking his head. Then he put his glasses back on and started walking towards his car. He got in and before closing the door, he spoke:

“I’m glad you like the outfit I bought you.” He winked at the teen and drove away.

---{}---

“So…she knows now.” Ned summed up. It was Monday morning, and both were sitting outside. Peter was trying to catch Ned up on everything that had happened over the weekend.

“Yeah” sighed Peter “she knows. And she’s talking to Mr. Stark almost every day now, trying to keep me from breaking ‘boundaries’.” He said, making the quotes with his fingers.

“Sweet!” Ned exclaimed, surprising Peter.

“What? Didn’t you hear me? My aunt is embarrassing me every day in front of Mr. Stark. How is that sweet?” he asked, almost offended.

“Oh, not that part. That part sucks.” Ned reassured him quickly. “I meant that now that your Aunt knows (and she’s not going to the police or threatening you to hang the webs) we can tell people!” he ended with a big smile.

“Tell people? No, of course not!” hissed Peter, looking around to make sure no one was listening.

“Why not? Dude, we’d be so popular! Everyone would love you!”

“Yeah, if they even believe me.”

“We can show them! Get everyone in the school in the gymnasium and you can wear the suit and-”

“No, we will not tell the whole school that I’m a superhero!!” he half whispered, half yelled.

“Why not? Dude, that’s like, the most impressive thing you could do! You’d be the king of our school!”Ned kept going, full of eagerness.

“There are more important things than impressing people in high school, Ned!!”

“Like what!?” Ned asked, not seeing the issue.

“Oh, I don’t know” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm “like saving people, staying alive, keeping my identity a secret!?”

“Why on Earth would you want to keep that a secret!? It’s awesome!” Ned yelled, getting mad.

“Yes, it’s awesome, when it’s not putting the people I care about in danger!” Peter responded.

“The whole world knows who Iron Man and War Machine are! And Ms. Potts and Colonel Rhodes’ family are perfectly safe!”

“Safe? Do you have amnesia or something? Ms. Potts was kidnapped and experimented on not even five years ago! It was a fucking miracle that she survived! Happy got blown up; he barely made it!” Peter was getting agitated.

“Yeah, but that was years ago. That hasn’t happened since, right?” asked Ned, secured in his knowledge.

“Seriously?” Peter said, baffled. “They are rich people! They have bodyguards and-and they are public figures! If something happened to them, the world would know in a heartbeat. Besides, everyone knows that they count with Tony Stark’s protection.”

“What about Spider-Man’s protection?”

“Really, Ned? The minute people find out I’m still a teenager, they’ll lose any respect or fear of me!” Ned tried to say something, but Peter cut him off. “No, Ned. I won’t make my aunt (or you or any of my friends) a target. It’s not happening. No one else can know about this, you hear me? No one.” With that, he turned around and left. The Vulture’s threat kept repeating in his mind, eyes cold as ice and -ill you and everybody you love kill you and everybody you love kill you and everybody you love kill yo-

---{}---

Peter couldn’t wait until the bell rang and the school day was over. It’s not like it used to be before; when the suit was new to him and he felt he had to prove something every time he put it on.

No, for once, the reason why he ached to go home had nothing to do with Spider-Man. Well, it did…but it didn’t, at the same time. He wasn’t in a rush to go to a back alley and change; he just wanted to get the hell out of the building he was currently trapped in. The fight he had with Ned this morning was going in circles in his head. They hadn’t talked to each other since their argument. They spent the whole morning ignoring the other’s presence and only speaking when it was necessary for an assignment. At lunch, Peter had walked into the cafeteria and promptly walked out when he saw Ned and MJ sitting in their usual table. Appetite gone, he only ate an apple. Peter just wanted to forget it and pretend it never happen. But he knew it wasn’t possible; because Ned was the least subtle person Peter has ever met (and that included Tony Stark) and they would have to talk about it in order to put it pass them.

Only; they have already had this discussion multiple times. And each time Peter said no. He couldn’t just give away his identity. He wouldn’t. He was terrified (had been ever since the Vulture ended behind bars; fearing that the man would try to use the information to send someone to kill him…or May, or Ned) of people finding out about it. In the two weeks following Homecoming, Ned had been there, as the guy in the chair, every time Spider-Man went patrolling. Every mugger stopped, every rape avoided, every theft thwarted, every direction Peter wasn’t sure of; Ned was on his ear (he was there when Karen wasn’t, when she couldn’t be); guiding him and providing commentary. It was so...freeing, having someone to talk to. And it grounded him, too. Ned provided options that Peter wouldn’t have thought of, tried to make him see his limitations (not that Peter always listened, but still). Peter knew that he was really, really lucky to have Ned as his friend. He trusted Ned.

But at the same time…at the same time he was terrified that Ned would just blurt it out (to Flash, or MJ, or the entire team). And then…then Peter would have to deny it (and put up with the mean jokes and the bulling) and paint Ned as a liar; or would have to come forward and prove he was Spider-Man; and paint a huge target on Aunt May, all of his friends and himself. And the thing was…Peter didn’t know what he would choose; if that happened. Because he knew, he just knew that if he denied everything; school would be hell for Ned. Flash would never stop. But if he revealed himself as Spider-Man? He would be putting everyone in danger. It might be selfish of him; but he liked his life as it was. Why did Ned feel the urge to change that?

---{}---

Finally, the bell rang and Peter left. He knew Ned had Robotics right now (and he would usually wait for him if he could); but today he escaped. He was just going to go to MJ’s to ask her about their Spanish homework and then head home. Maybe take a nap; before patrolling at night (he wasn’t even excited about being allowed to wear Mr. Stark’s suit again, not anymore).

But of course the universe couldn’t agree with him. Because the one day Peter didn’t want to think about putting on the suit; there was a robbery happening in the alley just in front of him. He knew that he was the only one able to hear what was going on, because the thieves had covered the victims’ mouths with their hands. Cursing, Peter ran and crossed the street. Then he hid behind a dumpster and dug up his suit from under his homework. With the suit on, he climbed the side of the building until he reached the roof.

The minute Peter put eyes on the situation; he knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

“Karen” he whispered.

“Yes, Peter?” she answered instantly, like she always did.

“Text Ned. Say it’s you and that I’m trying to stop a robbery, but that there are two robbers and three kids involved. It’s urgent. I need my guy in the chair.” A minute later, the connection came live.

“[Peter]” Ned started, obviously agitated. He must have run from the shop to the computer science lab. “[What’s going on?]”

“I need you to help me think how to handle this.” He whispers. “Karen, give him visual.”

“[Got it.]” Ned said when he the live footage showed up on the screen. “[Ugh; that’s ugly.]”

“Yeah, tell me about it. These guys are obviously enjoying scaring these kids to death.” Peter hissed, watching.

“[It sure seems so. Shit, Peter!]” Ned exclaimed suddenly.

“What? What is it?”

“[One of them (the guy with the flannel shirt) has a knife out!]”

“Crap. What do I do?”

“[Why would I know? You are the superhero.]” Ned answered, a bit prickly.

“I don’t know Ned; because you probably know this suit better than I do! Is there any web I can use?” Peter asked, trying to think about the hundred of combinations.

“[You…could try to aim really well at the blade with the acid one?]”Ned suggested.

“I have acid in this suit!?” he yelped, surprised and scared.

“You have, Peter. But it is well isolated; the acid would never touch your skin.” Karen answered.

“Shit, shit, shit. Okay.” He breathed in, then out. “Can it melt…whatever metal that is?” he asked Karen.

“Certainly. That one would be combination 2-6-8.”

“Alright. Ned, give me a hand here? I want to melt the knife, not this guy’s hand.” Peter said, adjusting the web-shooter.

“[Okay. You need to aim to the right…a 43° angle, so that it will bounce on the wall and take the knife out of his hand. And then melt it. You have a three seconds window since you shoot until it starts to disintegrate the metal; so you have to put enough strength into it. It’ a one shot deal.]”

---{}---

Nothing went as planned.

One of the kids saw him in the roof and yelled his name, ruining the element of surprise completely. Peter still managed to get the knife out of the guy’s hand, but the man would have to be treated for mild chemical burns on his hand. Peter had apologized profusely as soon as the man started to scream; but the second robber didn’t seem to care when he grabbed a kid and threw her at him. Spider-Man managed to grab the child mid air and get her to the floor. Then he shielded her and the other two so they could run out of the alley and onto the street.

By then the thief already had shot at him a couple of rounds (those would surely leave bruises) and, seeing that those wouldn’t stop him, by now had part of a table in his hands. He surprised Peter with a hit that sent him to the ground and then bashed the piece of wood repeatedly against the hero’s head, until it broke. Then he kicked Peter in the middle and shoulder a few times. Seeing that the hero wouldn’t get up, the second robber grabbed the weeping man and together they started to leave.

Peter saw this and tried to shoot a web at them, but the thief still had the gun. He walked closer and aimed it at his head. The last thing Spider-Man heard before passing out was the deafening sound of the shots. Then he felt the bullets impact on his forehead and blacked out.

---{}---

“-ter”

“[Parke-]”

“-eter”

“[…answer me, damn it!]”

“Guys?” Peter asked, disoriented. “Ned?”

“[Finally, Peter! We’ve been calling for you for a minute and a half! I can’t believe you passed out! Actually I can’t believe you are still breathing after two bullets to the head; although of course I can, because Tony Stark makes the best suits and-]”

“Ned, sto-op.” Groaned the hero; clenching at his head. “I can’t… hear…well. I’m…dizzy.”

“You have sustained a severe concussion, Peter. You also have bruised ribs, a cracked scapula and are bleeding from the head.” Karen reported, sounding worried. “Mr. Stark has been notified, though unfortunately he is in another state. He highly recommended you to hide until he can take you home.”

“Mr. Stark? No…he will be so worried…” Peter lamented, trying to get up. “Can’t I just…lie here? I’m comfy…here.”

“[No, no, no, you can’t. The police are less than five minutes away. You have to get out of there or you’ll be arrested.]” Ned explained.

Now that Peter thought about it; the ringing he was hearing wasn’t only in his head. He could hear sirens too. It was annoying, he wanted silence.

“[-it; I’m calling MJ.]” He heard Ned say, and that made him react.

“What? What for?”

“[Because you can barely stay awake right now and won’t be able to get out of there alone. Climb the building or swing away even less.]”

“But why MJ? What does she have to do with…with anything?” Peter asked, trying to get his eyes to focus.

“[Peter; you are in her street. She lives in the next edifice over.]” Ned says, really worried right now.

“No. No. She…can’t find out. I’ll-I’ll just stay on the roof of one of these buildings.”

“I very much doubt you’ll be able to climb, Peter. You should listen to Ned.”

“No! Don’t do it.” Peter refused, even as he heard the sirens coming closer. “Just…direct me towards a building that has a fire escape, alright? You’ll have to direct me, though, because I can’t see shit with blood on my eyes.” Pause. Long pause.

“[Fine. But if you get arrested, you better not spill my name.]”

“Duh; I’d never.”

“[Ok. Keep walking.]”After a few moments Peter spoke.

“Isn’t far enough?”

“No, keep walking. Keep walking. Stop. Now… jump and catch the ladder.]” Peter has to try a few times, clenching his middle with one arm; all the while letting pain filled groans escape his throat. Finally, he managed. He supported himself on the metal frame, resting his throbbing head in the cold surface for a few seconds; whishing he could just stay there until everything stopped spinning and hurting so much. “[Peter. Peter. Spider-Man!” Peter jumped and shook his head to clear it (not that it helped). “[Focus. Now go up the stairs. You need to get to the fifth floor.]”

“What? Noo…” he whined, as his body slowly, slowly moved. “Why?”

“[Because otherwise the police will see you and follow you up.]”

“Alright.” Peter whispered, still climbing. “Tell me when I can stop.”

The ascent lasted for what felt an eternity. In a corner of his mind, Peter bet Ned was biting his nails, nervous out of his mind.

“How much more? I-I can’t more, I need to rest.” Peter mumbled. The fact that he sounded sleepier every time he talked was a bad sing.

“[Just one more floor, buddy.]”

“No, no more, please. Here it’s fine. I can’t hear anyone.” His legs trembled and he fell on his knees. “I’ll…rest here for a bit.” He could feel his mind slipping away, floating somewhere.

“[Peter, don´t you dare!” the scream broke the fog on his brain. “[You have to go up another floor.]” Peter whined and Ned let out something that resembled a growl out of frustration. “[Come on, Parker, you can do it.]”

On hands and knees, Peter clumsily moved one step at a time. By the last one, his breathing was heavy and painful, and all of his limbs trembled.

“Did I do it…Is here fine?” he mumbled, before crashing. His arm was at an awkward angle under his torso, and his ribs were burning and he could feel the blood, warm and thick, spread down his face.

“[…shit, Michelle, hurry!]”

---{}---

Peter regained consciousness slowly. His everything hurt everywhere. He tried to move, but his side strongly protested to that. So did his arm. And his back. And god, his head. He sighed and tried to touch his forehead, which seemed to be the source of the pain. His vision was a bit murky. Then he noticed the red and blue of the suit and sat up in a jump. His heartbeat was out of the charts. His ribs were hurting real bad but he ignored it, trying to find out where he was. He looked around, and saw he was in a bedroom (not his, or Ned’s, or one in the Compound). He swallowed. Then he saw the photo on the nightstand and something clicked in his brain.

“…long until he gets here?”

“Mr. Stark said an hour, hour and a half.” Ned. Ned was talking to someone.

“He’s gonna help me clean this mess up, right?” That was MJ, always practical. Peter’s eyes widened and he touched his face again. He didn’t have his mask on. Fuck! He cursed mentally.

He grabbed his mask that was in the pillow next to him and walked out of the bedroom. Ned and Michelle were talking in the hallway, trying to clean up a trail of blood.

“What. did. you. do. Ned?” he asked, punctuating every word. The other boy jumped, startled, but MJ just arched an eyebrow.

“I-I told you that the police was too close. And Mr. Stark was in another state. So I called MJ, like I said I would, and she helped you.”

“You are really heavy, Parker.” The girl said, huffing. “My arms are going to be so sore tomorrow.” She added.

Peter grabbed Ned’s arm and tugged him a few feet away.

“Ned” he hissed “what the hell?”

“What?” he said, breaking Peter’s grip. “The police came this close to find you. Wasn’t that what you were so desperately trying to avoid?” the other boy sarcastically asked.

“This is not better!” Peter yelled, yanking at his hair and regretting it dearly. “You didn’t have to do this! I could have-”

“What? What could you have done? You barely made it to the fifth floor. MJ had to drag you to her bedroom.”

“You could have just left me there! I would have gotten better and then-”

“And then what? You have been out for hours! You really think no one would have seen you and called the cops? Any sane person would have called the cops to arrest a vigilante passed out on their fire escape.” Ned said, annoyed.

“Apparently I’m not a sane person.” Michelle piped in, face blank. Peter ignored her.

“That was not your decision to make!”

“Actually it was, because I was the only one able to call for help.”

“You had no right to expose me like that! I’m compromised now!” Peter yelled back, raging.

“If you think this compromises you, Parker, you are more delusional than I thought.” MJ deadpanned.

“Shut it, Michelle. This doesn’t involve you. It shouldn’t involve you.” He remarked. “But because someone couldn’t keep his mouth shut-”

“It’s my job as your guy in the chair, to make sure you don’t die in a ditch!” Ned yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

“Then maybe I need another guy in the chair!” the hero screamed.

Then he put his mask on and jumped out of the window, swinging away.

Michelle and Ned watched him leave; Ned with a sense of dread and bubbling anger and Michelle definitely unimpressed.

“He could have used the door, you know.” She said, before turning around and leaving to get more cleaning products.

The blood wasn’t going to magically disappear.

---{}---

Peter barely made it home. He was feeling dizzy all over again; and his ribs were killing him. But his back had to be the worst; he had definitely aggravated his scapula injury with the swinging. He had enough forethought to grab two especial protein bars from the kitchen (Mr. Stark had come up with them as soon as Peter told him that his metabolism was a problem); because he knew that his recovery would go faster if he was well fed and he hadn’t really eaten since breakfast. Then he locked himself in his bedroom, without even taking his suit off. He just…wanted to sleep until everything made sense again. God, the things he said to Ned…Stupid, stupid, stupid!! Parker, you are such a jerk.

---{}---

“I know it’s difficult to accept you messed up, Peter, but you have to apologize.” Said Tony; trying to not seem too exasperated. He wanted the teen to open up to him, not shut down on him. It was probing to be more and more difficult, though. Tony understood the teen angst perfectly (he went through the same things, minus the powers) but if the kid continued to be an absolute asshole, he would end up without the much needed support on those fateful years. And yeah, Tony might be a little over dramatic; but god knows he would have never survived his teenage years without Rhodey.

“Peter, you need to say sorry to Ned and Michelle. What you said was incredibly rude and unfair. They were just helping you.” May said, hoping that a miracle would happen and Peter would actually listen.

“Helping me?” A voice from inside could be heard. “Ned revealed my identity five hours after I explicitly told him not to!” Peter yelled. He was obviously pretty worked up.

“Ned didn’t have another choice, honey-” his aunt started, but Tony interrupted her. If the kid wanted to be treated like an adult, he needed to stop acting like a brat. And enabling him wouldn’t help.

“Oh, grow up, Parker! They saved your ass!” he exclaimed loudly, ready to break the lock on the door in another minute if Peter didn’t drag his butt outside. “It’s because of them that you are not in a cell god-knows-where!”

“Oh, come on! It was only the police! I could have avoided them without help!” the teen cried out, offended.

“Really? Is that why you passed out; because you could handle it?” Tony snarled and then took a few deep breaths before talking again. “If they had caught you, it wouldn’t have just been ‘the police’. You are a super-human now, Peter. And technically…you are a vigilante. And a minor. All of that would mean that A) the police would have called someone to deal with the super-human bit and you’d probably end up dealing with Ross; and B) your aunt could have been sent to trail for negligence and would have probably lost your custody, meaning that the State would have taken you in.”

Both adults waited for an answer, but there was only silence for a long time. Encouraged, Tony kept talking.

“We are trying to get rid of Ross, and to make the Accords more sensible, but that kind of things take time. If the cops had caught you…I would have intervened, of course, but your identity would have become public knowledge (at least to all the powerful people interested in super-humans).” Still no answer. “And you behaved like a complete jerk to your friends; considering they had to drag your heavy persona to the bedroom.” More silence. The adults looked at each other, and with a nod from May, Tony activated his watch.

Then, the sound of the window closing took them by surprise. Tony rushed to open the door; but Peter was already gone, swinging between the buildings of Queens.

Tony sighed and massaged his temples. Dealing with teenagers was the worst.

---{}---

“You realize that if I didn’t know you are Spider-Man, I’d be seriously worried right now?” Tony said, stepping out of his suit.

“Can you please just…not?” Peter asked, balancing his legs over the edge of the building.

It was one of the tallest on the city; and he liked to sit here and watch everything unfold from the top. It was rather peaceful, if you didn’t care about the noise.

“Do what?” asked the engineer; sitting next to Peter.

“Not do this…whole ‘surrogate-dad’ thing. The ‘it’s all going to be okay in the morning; you’ll find someone else’ spiel.”

Tony chuckled, shaking his head. Kids these days, he thought. Then he winced, because damn, things like that made him feel old.

“Kid, Ned is not one of your teenage crushes. He is your best friend; your ‘guy in the chair’, right?” the genius asked, looking down. Tony had the sudden thought that he was lucky not to have problem with heights, because they were pretty up high.

“…Yeah.” Peter mumbled; shoulders dropping from the defensive position they had been in since he heard the repulsors.

“Believe me, Pete, your best friend is going to be your anchor.” Tony said, smiling. “Especially in this kind of lifestyle.”

“So you don’t believe that high school friendships end when we graduate?” the teen asked, sounding miserable.

“I know our experiences are pretty different, kiddo, but I really don’t. I mean, I was already in MIT when I met Rhodey, but I was fourteen. And despite petty fights, huge fights, betrayals and months of not seeing each other; we are still here. I’m still his pain-in-the-ass little brother and he’s still my platypus.” Peter smiled a little at that.

“It’s just…” he sighed. “It’s just, sometimes I feel like he’s jealous, you know? Like he wished he had these powers instead of me.”

“Peter…” Tony said gently, putting his hand on the kid’s shoulder. “…of course he’s jealous sometimes. He’s human. And a teen. Anyone would be at least a little envious if their best friend suddenly can do the things you wished your whole life you could do. It doesn’t mean anything. I would get so jealous whenever Jim presented a girl to his parents, or made new friends; because that’s something I was never good at. It didn’t help that I wished I could have a family like his. And he envied my mind sometimes, the first few years. He got into MIT on a scholarship, you see, and keeping his GPA was hard in between all of his classes and his Basic Training. Me, on the other hand…I rarely went to classes and still aced almost every test. He resented that and it hurt me; because kids my age (or older) in school would always do that and would beat me when I said I wouldn’t do their homework for them. But I didn’t want to lose his friendship; so I did something I had never done before. I tried to do his homework.” He laughed “Man; that did not work out the way I wanted; like, at all. He got so offended and I couldn’t see why and we fought. Badly.” He breathed in deeply, eyes far away. Peter felt guilty for making him sad, but he really wanted to hear the end of the story, so he said nothing.

>>“It was awful. Our first big argument and we didn’t talk to each other for almost a month, but it felt like so much more. At the end, Mama Rhodes had to come and force us to talk to each other. She said she was tired of Jim moping over the phone on every call and that she missed hearing me geek out about Star Trek or science with her boy over the land line. So we patched things up. He tried to include me more often with his friends and class mates (though that not always worked) and I learned not to do things for him and just offer my help and let him decide if he wanted it.”

None of them spoke for a while; Tony watching the city lights and Peter taking in and processing everything the engineer had said to him.

“And things went back to normal?” The teen asked, hopeful now.

“After a while. It took time. But our friendship became stronger because of it.” He seemed so sure about that so Peter had no choice but to believe him.

“We don’t have a Mama Rhodes, though. Aunt May doesn’t know half of it and we try to keep her out of it unless it’s super necessary.” Peter mused, thinking about all the patrols that May would skin him for (especially if she knew he didn’t have the Kevlar suit and was out on his ‘Spidey-pajamas’, as Tony liked to call them).

“But you have me!” Tony said with a grin.

“What? No, no, no Mr. Stark-”the teen startled.

“Come on kid! Put on your mask and I’ll let you surf of my back” he winked. “Otherwise, I’ll just carry you bridal style, like a damsel in distress. Bet that will get a smile out of Ned.” He laughed and got up.

Peter sighed, but picked up his mask and put it on. He did owe Ned an apology. Michelle too. And…well, surfing on Iron Man’s back seems pretty cool (he’s been trying to convince Tony of that the whole weekend, he’s not gonna say no).

“By the way, when was the last time you ate? You know you heal better when your body is nourished and my scans show that your healing rate is slower than usual. I’m pretty sure you are hungry.”

Peter’s stomach growled as in agreement, and the teen groaned. Tony could be such a dad!

---{}---

Peter managed to convince Mr. Stark that the apology could wait until the next day; because he really needed a shower, and was famished when they got back to his apartment. Besides, Peter hoped that Ned and Michelle’s anger would wane a bit if he gave it more time.

Also, he needed the time to come up with a good apology. Ned was a great friend, but he could hold a grudge like no one else Peter knew. And it was the first time he had ever fought with MJ (he was kind of terrified of her, to be honest). He spent the whole trip to the school trying to think what to say and how to make it up to them, when he saw Michelle getting out of her parent’s car. This it’s it, he thought, you can’t postpone this, Peter. He breathed in a few times and started to walk again.

“MJ!” he called, making her stop. He caught up to her and swallowed. “I just wanted to say, thank you. For- for yesterday.” She gave him a Look and he fidgeted. “I really appreciate what you did for me and…I-I’m sorry for being…”he drifted, not sure how to continue.

“…a jerk?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow. He flushed.

“Yeah, among other things. It’s just…too much all of the sudden, you know? My aunt found out the other day and now you and-” he saw MJ smile and stopped. “What?”

“Peter, do you really think I didn’t know about it? Or at least strongly suspected?”

“Wha-what? How?” Peter asked, flabbergasted.

“Well, there are a lot of things. Like you suddenly disappearing for the ‘Stark Internship Retreat’ you went to, that coincidentally matched the date Spider-Man was seen in Germany. The new suit (that it’s obviously Stark tech) that Spider-Man wore ever since, that coincides with you getting the internship. You leaving band practice and dropping out of the team; while Spider-Man is seen more and more often.” Peter’s jaw was in the floor, but Michelle just kept going. “You just showed up and asked to rejoin before we went to Washington, never made it to the competition, and Spider-Man just showing up to save the team, despite the fact that, with the exception of Germany, he was never seen outside of New York. The Ferry accident and you losing the Stark Internship and Spider-Man disappearing all at the same time. You going back to normal while Spider-Man is out of commission. Spider-Man fighting a supervillain in pijamas-”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” he yelled, looking around to see if anyone was listening to her monologue. No one was, luckily. “You know me very well.” He said, still amazed. She rolled her eyes.

“More like you are really obvious, Parker. I think that anyone in this school could easily found out if they were willing to believe Spider-Man could be a teenager.”

“Okay, then.” He fidgeted. “Thank you for keeping my secret. And I’m sorry, again.”

“Who says I haven’t already told the police?” she asked, with a completely straight face. Peter felt his heart stop-“Just kidding. As long as you don’t expect me to keep saving your ass and cleaning your mess, we’re good.” With that she patted him in the arm and walked into the building.

One down, one to go, Peter thought, nervous. He swallowed and climbed the stairs.

---{}---

Ned’s apology was very anticlimactic. He wouldn’t let Peter apologize per se, cutting him off midway to talk to someone else, or walking away or sitting in a different place or changing seat partners. He went as far as putting on headphones when he saw Peter coming in the hallways and dialing the volume all the way up, knowing that the other teen couldn’t stand such loud music for long.

Peter lived with his hearth in his throat the whole day, fearing that Mr. Stark might be wrong and he had lost his best friend for being a stubborn ass.

Finally, before the last period, Ned let the other teen approach, but didn’t look at him. Peter was biting his lip not to blurt everything he wanted to say, but when Ned finally looked at him and nodded, he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I was a jerk and an idiot and I don’t know what I was thinking because you are my best friend and the only person I’d want to be my guy in the chair and I wanted to say thank you too; because you care and you looked for a way to help me because I needed it, even when I didn’t want it and please don’t hate me I just really want to go back to being friends.”

There was a tense pause and Peter could hear his heartbeat going crazier every second.

“First, I acknowledge your apology,” When Peter opened his mouth Ned lifted a finger and continued: “but I don’t accept it yet. Second, I want you to actually listen to my advice and not just brush it off.” Enthusiastic nodding “Third, and the most important thing, I want to meet the Vision.” At Peter’s expression, Ned rushed to clarify “Of course I want to see the whole Compound and meet Mr. Stark too, but the Vision is just so cool.”

When Peter saw the amused and eager expression on his friend’s face, he knew he was forgiven. So he nodded and they did their secret handshake.

“I should have known that would be your price. Fortunately, Mr. Stark agreed to take you to the Compound and give you a few hacking classes; so I guess you’ll meet Vision (and Rhodey and Happy) soon enough.”

“Sweet!” Ned said, overjoyed. “Apology accepted.” He winked.

While Ned and Peter were still waiting for the ring to go to class; the ‘spidey-sense’ activated. The hallways were beginning to fill with whispers and exclamations of shock. Everybody was watching something on their cells; watching the same stream. Peter quickly approached the closest phone and paid attention.

“In the Ridgewood Savings Bank, the situation is going from bad to worse. A few hostages have been released, but just moments ago we heard gunshots. There’s no visual for the SWAT team and the Accords Pannel are not letting the Avengers help yet. Thermal images might be able to help the police, but-”

“I have to go” said Peter to Ned. The other teen nodded, already turning and walking towards the computer lab. Peter ran to the bathroom and escaped through the window. He wouldn’t change near his school, not after what Michelle told him.

---{}---

“You should contact Mr. Stark, Peter.” Karen suggested, sounding insecure.

“Karen-”

“[She’s right, man. The last time we tried to do this alone it didn’t end very well.]” Ned said, as he analyzed the live footage of the suit.

“It’d be useless. The Panel won’t let him help; and if he knows I am in ‘danger’, Mr. Stark would break the Accords trying to help me. I can’t let that happen.” Peter refused.

“Peter-” the AI started.

“Guys-”

“[Alright; how about this: you go in with us as back-up, but the second something goes wrong, I call Mr. Stark. And that’s it.]” Ned said, inflexible.

“Okay, okay.” He breathed in and out a few times. “Let’s do this.” With that, he shot a web and jumped. He was inside the bank in a few seconds.

---{}---

“Crap, crap, crap, crap” muttered Ned, while he frantically tried to get back Peter’s visual, or audio, or anything. He decided to call Mr. Stark anyways.

“Mr. Sta-”

“Please tell me that red blur that entered the building three minutes ago was not Spider-Man.” The inventor said as soon as the line connected.

“…”

“Damn it, kid! What the hell were you two thinking!?”

“The news said that the Panel wouldn’t let you go; so Peter tried to help!”

“The Panel didn’t let me, because we think this is a set-up. The ‘hostages’ have no backgrounds, no names, nothing.”

“Crap.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Mr. Stark sighed. “Okay, how is it looking in there?”

“…” Ned swallowed. “That’s the reason I called you. I lost contact with Peter and Karen 50 seconds ago.”

“And you’re just telling me this now!?” he swore in a few different languages and talked quickly with someone “I swear, teenagers are the fucking worst thing to ever happen to humanity. What the hell was I thinking? Alright, kid, I’m going in.”

“Good luck, Mr. Stark.” Ned said, mainly because he didn’t know what else to say. He’d have to look up cool phrases from like, Q or Oracle.

---{}---

Tony was getting really tired of feeling like his heart was going to burst out of his chest from worry. This was one of the reasons why he had never tried to procreate. First Harley managed to reverse-engineer his armor to ‘watch your back, since you clearly can’t do it on your own’; and now this? I swear I’m gonna ground him so bad…he paused himself right there, before he continued the thought. Damn, I do sound like a worried dad. He closed the door he had to melt to enter the building, and started walking, trying to hear Peter. The kid never shut up and he chose now to be quiet?

Suddenly he heard a ‘clang’ to his back, and when he was turning, someone shot a device that stuck to his armor, and started to power everything down. This must be what happened to Peter. His suit isn’t equipped to deal with an EMP that can take my armor out. A brunet woman (he could have considered her beautiful, if her cruel smile wasn’t so off putting) appeared from the shadows.

“Hello, Mr. Stark. So nice of you to join us. I was hoping to avoid seeing you, but my soldiers seem unable to take on the little spider.” She said, looking furious. The man standing beside her shivered. Yeah, Tony wouldn’t want to be in his shoes.

“So you did all of this to get him?” Iron Man asked, trying to stall. The armor was rebooting, but that would take a few moments. He was also curious, trying to seize up the threat. Meanwhile, Spider-Man was on the first floor, dodging the blasts and the darts of the soldiers. Tony really needed to help him.

“Of course! It’s so blatantly obvious that your ‘Spider-Man’ is a child still. It was so easy to design a trap that would make him crawl out.” the green-clad woman gloated “He’s as strong as Captain America (some say even stronger) and has a few other abilities that we can use. After the terrible loss of our Winter Soldiers, well…we need another test subject.” Tony’s eyes widen and his mind froze for a second. “No witty come backs, Stark? This kid must really mean a lot to you.” A sick grin spread across her face “Even better. You will lose your life at the hands of this child; once we are through with his conditioning. Just as you lost your parents to the first Winter Soldier.” Her laugh was cut short when she had to get out of the way of a repulsor blast.

“Stay.the hell.away.from my kid!” Tony yelled, shooting the missiles in his shoulders at the goons that were protecting this ‘Madame Hydra’ (oh, he liked that; he was going with that for the press conference).

The ensuing chaos was utterly unavoidable and completely rewarding. Peter took advantage of the distraction he caused to trap some goons on his webs. He might not be able to use the web-shooters, but the web-fluid is powerful and not much was needed to completely cover half the men in the substance.

Meanwhile, Tony busied himself with shooting at the obviously more experienced fighters that were covering for Madame Hydra’s exit. He taked out the EMP gun first; and subsequently he shot at their knees and middle, trying to incapacitate them and not particularly caring if they lived of not after this.

Then he went after the woman. She threw a grenade at him but he slapped it to the side, towards a group of men that were trying to creep on Peter. He caught up to her when she was reaching the door; hurling her back at the centre of the building. He cuffed her hands and feet and turned around to help the kid, only to find him casually (too casually) leaning against a pillar. There were dozens of men completely covered in webs: hanging from the ceiling and other pillars, stuck to the floor or the walls and (Tony’s favorite) a huge bundle of web, people and elements (parts of guns and debriefs) just moving around, because the men inside couldn’t separate themselves from the others or from that particular piece of whatever that was poking them. When Madame Hydra started throwing insults and screeching about HYDRA’s superiority, Peter grabbed a bit of web and taped her mouth shut.

Tony just shook his head and laughed. Explaining the property damage and why exactly he went in without explicit permission to the Panel might be a problem; but at least SWAT, the NYPD and the media were going to have a good day.

Kids, the genius thought, even if they are reckless and stubborn and a pain in my ass, sometimes they have good ideas.

---{}---

After calling the SWAT team in and explaining the situation so that they would focus on the real bad guys; Tony steered Spider-Man away from where he was explaining to a few officers how many men there actually were in the bank right now (with all the webbing, they can’t really tell).

“So” Peter started, and somehow Tony knew that there was a smug smile behind his mask. “Are we ‘there’ yet?”

Tony laughed.

“Yeah, kid, we are there.” He answered, chuckling. He stretched an arm and pulled the kid to his chest, hugging him tight. Peter didn’t seem to care the hard metal of the suit; he just squeezed harder, so that Tony would feel it.

They were dirty and sweaty and hurting in places they shouldn’t be hurting; but they were whole and they were alive. Peter was safe, this fucking organization lost. And so will any other that might want to take his kid away.

Problems might still arise; with the Panel, the cops, etc. But for now it was okay.

It was enough. They deserved this.

---{}---

#peter & tony big bang #iron dad #spider son #xD #peter parker #tony stark #ned leeds #may parker #michelle jones #breyito writes

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orphanedshadow · 7 years ago

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Denying the truth

Grace had just finished a tray of cookies when the sound of Socks meowing reached her ears. She had always said that a familiar was better than any doorbell, and the odd little cat had proved it once again, allowing her just enough time to reach the door and open it the second before anyone knocked.

"Another stray, or are you just babysitting?"' It had been months since Richard had last come to her for help, and she was almost surprised that he had come to her home unannounced with a little girl in tow. Almost, though her morning tea had hinted at such an eventually, the visit of an old friend and a dark stranger.

"This is Kara." Richard avoided the question, not wanting to commit to actually acting as if the child was family, at least not until this meeting was finished and he knew the truth.

The severity of the tea leaves's message seemed at odds with the appearance of the child, a frail looking little thing with eyes that never left the ground, and who remained silent even when greeted.

Grace provided the oddly silent child with a cookie, as was custom with any little one that entered her home, before sitting back down in her old rocking chair and fixing her cataract-filled gaze on Richard's eyes. "This isn't a social call, I can tell."

He shakes his head, gesturing to Kara, who seemed to have found a small corner to hide in and ignore them, instead focusing on Socks. "Kara was possessed when I found her, and even after exorcism there's something wrong. She's barely said more than ten words, except for when she's asleep. Then it's like she's talking to something demonic in its own language...any chance the demon's still in there?"

Wrinkled brows furrowed, stroking the cat who had returned to her side before glancing over to the child who was beginning to look around. The girl seemed fascinated by the symbols on the cover of one of the tomes she had locked away. Her interest didn't matter much, the spells would keep something much more powerful than a meddling child out, and the swirling shapes were probably enough to invoke the curiousity of anyone.

The witch seemed to converse with the cat for a moment before she spoke, slightly concerned by how little Kara seemed to care about what was going on. Here they were talking about her, and she acted as if they were just speaking about boring adult stuff.

"If I had to guess it's not possession. She feel a little non-human, but like a witch who's been using a lot of dark magic, not a demon. Like she summoned the demon herself, and that since she's young it got all wrapped up with her identity."

Grace sighs, having seen this situation before, and knowing this would not be easy. "If so she's probably never going to seem truly human, was probably quite sensitive before this and would have had that warped by being possessed. The kid's definitely a witch though, and she's already started down a very dark path."

"I could train..." Her eyes widen as she catches a flicker of movement behind Richard's back. The little girl had simply brushed off layers of spells like they were nothing, mesmerized by the tome on display.

Small hands pulled the forbidden text from the shelf, eagerly opening the volume to get at whatever tantalizing bits of information were hidden within. Clasps that had not been opened for decades had yielded let they were nothing, after all why would they refuse to open in the presence of one of those they were intended for.

"Richard, please take the book from her and close it, do not look inside." The firmness of her voice hid a great deal of worry, she was nowhere near equipped to deal with a being like the child before her.

He obeyed without question, jumping when the book slams shut the moment it was taken from Kara, heavily clasps closing with enough force they could take off a finger if one was not careful.

"I'm guessing this is more than just a witch thing." Richard wrapped his arms around the child, kicking the tome far enough away that she couldn't reach and hoping that it would be enough to prevent whatever had caused the witch's concern.

Grace felt extremely fortunate that a soft whine of protest was the girl's only response to Richard's actions, that and a grasping motion made towards the book.

It was clear now that this was the reason for her disinterest, something that would likely change should she any actions more violent than restraint be taken against her. Even Grace's recovery of the tome caused an increase in struggling, and the shadows around her started to writhe like the limbs of living creatures.

A plate of cookies were fetched, the book secured within a safe before the offering was provided. They needed to keep it calm, for it was unclear how much the little one would actually be capable of. "Let her go, we can't let her panic right now."

The moment she was released Kara took up the plate of cookies and retreated to the corner once again, staring at the safe with inhuman determination. Pages written in blood called to her, and only the human offering known as 'cookies' served as any sort of distraction from that.

"Richard, I was wrong she's not a witch, she's not even human. To open that book so easily, and to be drawn to it like she is the girl belongs to a bloodline that I thought extinct."

Pulling down a tome from the shelf Grace retreated to her chair, one eye on the child at all times, even as she confirmed her suspicions. "That book belonged to a fallen angel, and is for awakening the children he produced. These children are supposedly hybrids of dozens of monsters that almost perfectly mimic humans. They were created to do the job you do, but to be infinitely better."

The witch was out of her depth. She did not know what to say to help, or even what should be done with the girl. "Imagine if the darkness created a weapon to consume itself, that's what you've stumbled upon. Legend has it that people like her, the Mesaros, were capable of killing thousands of men in a single night, yet did not as their appetite drove them to instead seek out demons and destroy them with their own arts."

"So let me get this straight Kara's a predator that feeds on demons or something? If she is then what does the book do to that?"

Grace sighs, rubbing at her temples as she thinks. "From what I can tell it would awaken dormant inhuman abilities, or teach her how to use them. I don't know exactly, I can't open the book. I just know that whatever we end up having to do will be easier if she's weaker."

"You're serious aren't you? She's actually that dangerous?" In that moment he wished that he had not introduced Kara to his current household of children. No matter what he'd probably end up having to lie to them, if only to keep things calm.

"Is she... can she be normal? Teach her to hunt, so that hunger you talked about isn't a problem, and make sure she doesn't learn magic. I mean she's just a kid, right?"

He didn't want to have to deal with her the way he would any other monster. This was the child who curled up under the bed and not moved much for days after she had been exorcised, and who appeared to have nightmares bad enough that he was surprised that she didn't scream. Kara seemed more like a victim than anything else and he did not want to have to kill her unless if he had no choice.

Grace looked at the child once more, wishing she had the foresight to know what would be the best option, and which choice would let those involved sleep at night. "I don't know. I can try wiping her mind of most of the magic she's preformed, and of the memories of the book, but I don't know if it will last."

"We should at least try. She's just a kid, didn't ask to be born this way, and from what you say she's actually made to be on our side."

That was when a thought crossed his mind, one that sent chills down his spine. For all he knew something had a claim on the child already, and if he did anything his family's lives would be forfeit. "Wait, the fallen angel. Is he alive, and will he be able to tell what we did? Hiding them from each other or making it look like we were wouldn't be good, would it?"

"Grandma already knows." Kara's voice was steady, it becoming apparent that her lack of response was due to disinterest not because she didn't understand the situation. The information hidden in that book mattered far more to her than whatever was going on, after all she had always lived with the fear of death, but the promise of enough power to protect herself, well that brought with it a new sensation.

Though she had barely gotten past the first page of the book, already her head was swimming with thoughts she had not entertained for years. There was someone out there who actually wanted her, and though she was a monster she had a purpose and could do more than destroy.

Kara did not wish to give up that certainty, nor did she wish to have to rely on others to keep her safe from the things that wished to hurt her, but there was a soft whisper in her mind telling her that it would be alright, that she could go back to sleep.

Desperate to please the being who offered her such a powerful feeling of belonging she did not offer more than a token of resistance to those suggestions the voice provided, though had she known what was to come she likely would not have been so eager, nor would she have said what she did next.

"She says she can always find me, even if I forget."

Richard looked at the child carefully, now know that his options were extremely limited. It was not just compassion for the girl that drove him, but also a need to protect his family from the wrath of a fallen angel who was protecting what was hers. "Would grandma be angry if you forgot?"

"No" the truth came out far too easily, and Kara wanted nothing more than to take it back, holding on to resentment even when her memories were taken from her. Her safety was stolen, a pale imitation offered in its place, and though she tried she could never truly belong in the family he offered her.

#this is how richard found out what kara is #and why her memory of her childhood has holes in it #they pulled out a part of her to try and make her human #although they said it was to try and keep her safe #that part has since come back but it was pretty traumatic #after all kara doesn't just wield magic she is magic #and cutting her off from that is cruel #though they didn't know that #the makings of a monster [past]#why she is a monster: hunter verse headcanons #a tale of lightning and knives: drabbles

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vinewoodfamousarchive · 7 years ago

Text

Here’s Chapter 3 of my GTA V fanfic - which brings us up-to-date with where I’m currently at on AO3.

Title: The Ghosts You Draw On My Back

Summary: Charlotte Weston is a reluctant Vinewood actress, doing minor league roles that her grandfather, Solomon Richards, coerces her into. After one too many tantrums by demanding co-stars, she gets fed up – only to find herself talked off of the ledge by our favorite criminal-turned-producer, Michael De Santa. Will he be able to hold up his promise of being a better man, or will each of them fall victim to the Vinewood Dream?

Chapter 3: Learning How To Smile

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

It had started out with actually saying 'hello' when they saw each other around the lot, giving a honk if they happened to pass each other coming in to the parking lot – eventually becoming Charlotte bringing Michael a coffee from his favorite coffee shop in Pillbox Hill (“Black, two sugars”, she thought every time she ordered for him) or Michael bringing her a funnel cake from Vespucci Beach (“with plenty of powdered sugar, enough that I can do one hell of a Tony Montana impression!”, she had joked the first time he had brought her the sugary sweet treat). A few times a week, they'd venture out to get some lunch with one another – sometimes with other production crew members, other times on their own.

When she had stumbled upon a box of old movies while helping her Grandfather clean out the garage, the first person she had thought to call was Michael; They ended up having an old movie night – but after a few drinks, the pair ended up passed out the sofa, the cold light of morning finding Charlotte's back pulled against his chest, a protective arm holding her close. Truth be told, it was the most relaxed, most refreshing sleep he could remember having in recent memory. Hell, most days Amanda was showered, dressed, and engaging in yoga or tennis or whatever the fad of the week was long before Michael could even roll out of bed. Even when they first got married, she refused to lay too close to him when they slept, insisting that he got too hot and sweaty.

“It sounds like it's just a friendship between two co-workers.” a voice echoed, making Michael pause from his spot in the closet, getting dressed and ready for the movie premier that evening, the night that he had spent the last few months working towards.

“Then why can I not shake the feeling that I'm doin' something wrong? That I'm runnin' around behind my wife's back again? I might not know much here, Doc, but I'm pretty sure that thinkin' of a woman like this would count as one of those relapse things you're always goin' on about.”, Michael wondered out loud, expecting the voice on the other end of the speakerphone to confirm his suspicions, to chastise him for once again indulging himself rather than thinking of his family.

“Well, now Micahel”, he heard Dr. Friedlander begin, bracing himself for the good doctor's reaction. “From the sounds of things, you haven't actually done anything yet, have you?”

“Well, no bu-”

“Okay, then I don't see it as a relapse; I see it as a man who likes the attention and adoration that young lady is giving you, rather than the relationship you have with your wife. You've been married for nearly twenty years, of course some of the shine has long since worn off of the relationship with Amanda. Besides, relapse is a vital part of recovery.”

“Wait a minute, I thought you just said you didn't view this as a relap-” “By the way, while I have your attention, your insurance ran out. I don't suppose you could pay cash from now on? The rate for that is slightly higher – cost of cutting out the banks and all of that. We can discuss this more at your next visit, but I'm afraid this is all we have time for today. Be well, and remember, brother, we're all rowing together. Now, cross that ocean.”, Dr. Friedlander spoke quickly, as if rushing to get off of the phone before he were forced into giving actual advice.

With a sigh, Michael hung up the phone call, taking one last look at himself in the mirror. His hairline was a little further back than it was several years ago, stubble on his chin a little grayer, his gut protruding a little more than he was comfortable with. Amanda never hesitated to point out his failings, both physically, financially, and emotionally – but with Charlotte? It was just two people enjoying each other's company, never concerned about appearances.

Was it really so awful of him to want to indulge in those feelings as much as possible?

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

Charlotte would have been lying to herself is she said that she hadn't grown to enjoy the time that she and Michael were spending together; It was rare to find someone who actually wanted to spend time with her, not just because they figured she could give them easy access to Solomon or on occasion, even her father. Old movies, trips to Vespucci Beach, shooting pool with his buddy Franklin at sketchy bars in Chamberlain Hills, taking drives up to Sandy Shores while simultaneously warning her to avoid Trevor unless she was with him or Franklin (“Probably just me, though. Let's be real, T is a few cocoa crispies short of being Count Chocula, if you catch my drift.”) - They were all such simple activities that her father had said were beneath her social standing as a Weston, but they also satisfied some part of her soul that she hadn't even known was empty.

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

“We did it! We fucking did it!”, Solomon shouted, arms raised as Michael approached the duo, accompanied by his son, Jimmy. The friendly interaction brought a smile to her face; After months of problem after problem, tantrum after tantrum, the movie was finally here. Lights flashed as the various paparazzi snapped pictures of their favorite celebrities, ready to sell them to whatever magazine wanted to run a 'Hot or Not' fashion column the next morning. “I might be a lecherous old has-been, but I'm a has-been with a premier at the Oriental Theatre on Vinewood Boulevard!”

Everyone was so relaxed, quite the change from the stress-fueled nights that had become commonplace, both during filming and post-production. Nights like this, ones where they all got to dress to the nines and enjoy each other's company were like everyone collectively releasing the breaths they held, while waiting to see if the film would be successful or not.

“Hey! Hope I'm not too late – I wouldn't miss this for the world!”, Devin practically shouted as he hustled towards them. Something about the interaction just felt...off to Charlotte, accentuated by the way Solomon and Michael both tensed up when her father walked up to them. “Hey, what a movie, huh? Meltdown! - Congrats, Mikey, we did it.”

'We?', she thought to herself. Her father hadn't been involved with the production, at least not as far as Charlotte was aware; He had never been to the lot, had never mentioned it beyond asking her how her day was (though she could tell that her father rarely paid attention to what followed that question).

“You – you two know each other?”, she questioned, eyes darting between her father and Michael, two people that she couldn't imagine willingly spending time with one another. Charlotte loved her father, but he was business-oriented and if you didn't fit into that world, you were of little relevance to him. Michael nodded tensely, eyes never leaving Devin, as if waiting for him to strike. “Yes, Mr. De Santa and I have quite the history, don't we? I'll be inside, Charlotte. Come in and find me when you're done.” With a kiss on his daughter's cheek, Devin sent one last smirk in Michael's direction before heading into the theatre. She turned to Michael, prepared to inquire about how the pair knew each other when grabbed her arm, steering them into theatre restrooms, careful to make sure it was empty before speaking.

“What the hell Michael?”, she hissed, shaking her arm free of his grasp. “That couldn't have been anymore awkward if you two had actually tried to make it awkward.”

Michael was pacing the bathroom, looking for the right words to explain his connection to Devin Weston without Charlotte looking at him like he was insane. The last person he had explained any of this to, outside of Franklin, had been Amanda nearly twenty years prior; All she had cared about was if he continued to keep her in nice clothes and fancy cars – Instinct told him that a girl like Charlotte might feel differently.

“Look, you remember I told you I know people?”, he questioned, waiting until Charlotte nodded her head in confirmation before continuing. “It's 'cause back in the day, I did some shit – some real bad shit. I just.....” With a heavy sigh (and a touch of bourbon-induced courage from the sip he had stolen from his flask earlier in the evening), Michael took a deep breath before speaking again. “I got a lot of bad people gunnin' for me – The FIB, The IAA, Merryweather – That's how I know your father, alright? Trevor did somethin' real stupid a while back and we all ended up on their radar.”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, searching for words that just never came. Part of her wanted to deny it, to smack him on the arm and tell him he was being an asshat before going back in to the party – but another part of her knew, could tell that the story he was telling her was really the truth. A gut feeling had told her that her father's company had been doing some less-than-honorable business and with the way Michael had been warning her away from Trevor, the way the two men frequently talked under the breaths when all three of them spent any time together, she figured there had to have been a reason.

“Look, I done a lot of things that I ain't proud of, okay? I never claimed to be an angel. But if you knew, Charlie.......If you knew about all of it, you'd be runnin' in the opposite direction and never lookin' back. I'm a bad fuckin' guy.”, Michael choked out, the weight of the ten-ton bolder that had wedged itself firmly onto his shoulders shifting ever-so-slightly with his confession. It was a big risk, telling her about that part of himself; Devin Weston was a powerful man, and he knew that, for Charlotte, getting involved with a guy like him would put her squarely in the middle of her father (and subsequently Merryweather's) radar. He wouldn't have blamed her for walking away from whatever this thing between them was. The look of shame was etched into Michael's face – It was as if he had somehow aged twenty years since the conversation had began; Gone was the excited, proud producer and in his place was a weary, road-worn man who had dealt with more than his fair share of struggle in his life.

“Well, I don't....I don't know about that”, she stammered, glancing down at her feet for a moment before dragging her gaze back up to the icy blue gaze that was currently searching her face for any hint as to what she thought of him. “I think....I think maybe you're a good guy that was forced into a bad situation, y'know? And maybe I'm wrong, I don't know. I mean, what could a rich white girl from Vinewood Hills know about struggles and bad situations, right? It's jus- ”

Charlotte's words were cut off abruptly by the forceful (and yet, somehow still gentle) press of Michael's lips against her own. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she could hear something screaming at her that she should stop this, should turn Michael away and send him back to Amanda, should pretend that this never happened, should be doing any one of a hundred different things – but the only thing she found herself actually doing was indulging in the softness of the kiss and the way it made her feel alive.

“Dad! Da-ad, where are you?” Jimmy's voice cut through the air like a hot knife, sending Charlotte and Michael stumbling away from each other, chests heaving as if they had just finished running a marathon. The sound of the De Santa son eagerly shouting about being a producer's son announced his presence shortly before his came tumbling around the corner, eyes immediately lowering into a knowing state, as if it weren't the first time he had caught his father in an awkward position.

“I should, um, yeah, I should go.”, Charlotte spoke softly, trying (and failing) to ignore the way her voice wavered ever so slightly. Her hands smoothed the imaginary-wrinkles out of her gown, suddenly feeling much colder than she had even just a few seconds prior.

A frisson of panic rolled through Michael, every fiber of his being begging him to go after her, to go tell Amanda exactly where she could shove whatever frivolous demands she had this time before going to join the person he really wanted to be with – but instead, he remained glued to the spot, eyes begging Charlotte 's retreating form to understand. 'Just a little bit longer, baby', he thought to himself. 'just stick with me for a little bit longer'

#GTA V #Grand Theft Auto V #Grand Theft Auto 5 #Fanfiction #My Fanfiction #GTA V Fanfic #Michael De Santa #Solomon Richards #Devin Weston #Text

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