#valstory

[kentnaturaltribrid]

Just two full pages of history and valstory, very small stuff, nothing out of the ordinary. Of course, nothing new out of the ordinary about it.

There’s not exactly much else to tell, especially after the two whole pages worth.

[charomiami]

Part 3 Continuation of Farewell co-written with @helloaschefire

part 1 part 2

Long Post UnderCut, Story Post, Over Due Post. Sorry for the Wait!  queued post while part 4 is being worked on.  XOXOX Cliche trope alert I fangirl over, fight me LOL!

Valentina quickly found herself inside the safehouse of Home Plate. The corner of a pallet tried to take her feet from her while she tried not to trip over Dog and  Cupid.  She’d never been inside and found the dim light and close-packed clutter confusing. She got just a quick look around before Johan sat her down on an uncomfortable couch jammed in a corner. She saw a cloud of dust billow up around them as Johan rummaged around, full of nervous energy. Waving off what dust threatened to enter her nose, she found them surrounded by boxes of ammo, weapon systems, cans of food and potable water. Among the pallets of junk, she knew more than one box was full of liquor and chems. A small sigh escaped her.

Johan returned and handed her a small box of soaps shaped like roses. He carried in his other hand a bottle of whiskey. She spied the familiar bulge of a jet inhaler in his pocket. He fell onto the couch beside her, and with pain-filled eyes asked her, "How was the pie?”

"Pie? What?” It came back to her. She’d been at the Castle when he shoved a piece of pie at her and stormed off. “I loved the Pie. I wanted to save you a bite, but I couldn't find you."  She had looked for him a little later but was told he left. She would not tell him she felt oddly guilty when she tasted the pie, that didn't taste as sweet as she thought pie should because she wanted to cry. She thought he was mad at her, but she didn't want the pie to go bad?

He whispered, distracted, looking at her up and down. “Good, good, I'm glad."

"Johan, are you okay?" Valentina could not hide her concern or confusion.

"No, I'm not alright. I miss her," he said with a set jaw. He smoothed his left hand over his beard. "All the time."

"Ohhhhh Nora." She nodded while distracting herself with the faint rosy scent of the soaps. She smiled a tiny bit, not to be dismissive of his feelings, but happy that the cause of his distress wasn’t something dangerous or something she caused. Valentina still felt horrible because her number one goal was to see Jo happy, and tt was obvious to anyone he was not. She closed the soaps up and watched him with concerned eyes. This sad, grumpy bear broke her heart because there was nothing she or anyone could say that could take the pain away.

"Yeah, Nora.” He said her name with a sigh as he worked the cap off the whiskey. "Piper looks like her. Too much."

She blinked rapidly and turned her head to hid the shift from sadness to jealousy. Did she really have to hear about Piper too? What was she supposed to say? She decided to stay silent and patted her knee for Cupid’s attention. The scent of whiskey filled the dusty storage room. She pulled a sour face as she looked around at the clutter. She felt suddenly stupid for acting the schoolgirl at his hand grabbing. “I had no idea,” she said eventually. "I can't look at her anymore," he said while offering Val the bottle and the first swig. "I have to keep my eyes on the future. Not, not the past.” He didn’t see the safe house or Valentina’s discomfort. He saw his old life as just a shadow smear on the far wall. Gone. All gone.

She'd take the bottle with silent thanks more than happy to take a much much MUCH needed drink. One of those long pulls, burning throat or no. It's not the whiskey that made her choke after she pulled the bottle away from her lips. It was what he said and tried to cover up with a half ass cough? He never does that. Why was he.... she's  looking at him, with a little furrow in her brows, the back of hand drying the corner of her mouth and chin. She hands the bottle back to him with the other hand.  She wouldn't even realize she was doing it. That look. But it wouldn't last long.

And then, with a whiskey gravel voice, "I broke up with her. It was... wrong."

"You broke up with her because of Nora?" Lovely perfect Nora, Val couldn't be mad at a ghost, but Piper must have been. That woman could spit fire and cut with words. "I'm sorry, Jo." She didn't know what to say yet again. She shook the bottle for him to take because obviously, he needed a drink too.

He did need a drink and drank deep. The liquor turned his voice whiskey rough. "I'm an asshole, Val. I should've never hooked up with her. I should've...." He didn't know what he should have done. Kept it in his pants? Yes. That. He drank again.

When he paused to take a drink, she jumped in a little angry that he called himself out like that. "You're not an asshole, and besides, we all make mistakes." She didn't think much else about it and gave him a little shrug. Was she angry, at him? At Piper? At Nora? Maybe herself, but not him.  He was no asshole.

“She thinks you and me ..." Johan trailed off while giving her the sideways eye. She slapped her hand over her mouth to keep a laugh from coming out. "What? Piper said you and me.... What?" What a crazy notion, she thought, while also trying to figure how to explain what it was that made her laugh. Perhaps it was the egg on Piper’s face, because she and Johan did not cheat on her. Was Piper going to be angry with her too? “I mean, what?”

"Would it be so crazy? The thought of you and me. Together?"  He offered her the bottle since he'd been stingy with it so far. "I told her we weren't. I would never do that. I don't think she believed me."

Val bit her lower lip to keep words from spilling out when he asked about it being crazy. How dare he out her like this, here. Now. She was unaware what color her face was turning, white or red. She had more than a few familiar daydreams run through her mind as she reached for the bottle, refusing to meet his eyes as she did. Then she heard what he said.

‘I would never do that.’ His words.

They stung and made her angry. She tried to wash whatever was boiling up away with a strong drink, but putting alcohol on a fire never diminishes it, only encourages it.

"Never do that. What? Exactly? Is that? That you'd never do?"  Her accent was more apparent, her words bitten off. Why was she so angry when she was just so happy? Why did this man have her so twisted in knots? She thrust the bottle back at him before she shot to her feet.

Mumbling part to herself and part whoever could hear, "so... bin ich jetzt so, wie ich bin unwürdig, ein Witz. etwas, das niemand lieben oder lieben möchte"

She eyed the door and went to motion Cupid with her hand.

Johan watched, dumbfounded and confused as to why Valentina was so angry? Valentina had always been easy to talk to. Easier than any in the Commonwealth since he emerged from cryostasis. Now, she was unable to understand? He stood up, the bottle dangled from his fingers. "Dammit, where are you going?” He asked. “I would never cheat on her." Dog, from the shadows, darted in, quick as any cattle dog and deft as any wingman, to try to trip up Val's feet.

Dog’s sudden movement alerted the already whining Cupid, sensing her partner’s change in mood. Valentina’s faithful dog moved to jump between Valentina and Dog. Valentina spun on her heel, turning back the moment she heard him speak. Her original intention was to get some fresh air to clear her head and maybe cry. Why did he break her down so quickly? Any quip she had ready was dead in the air;  air that was also filled with two dogs vying for position around her lightly drunken feet in an already cluttered room. “I’m Sorry. Of course, that’s what you meant, Johan. I’m a trottel,” she said. Trying to step over and around Dog and Cupid, forced from her course and sent her right back to the couch, or what should have been the couch. Instead, Valentina found herself catching herself on Johan and looking up straight up at him.

He caught her. With one arm strong around her waist, He lifted his free hand, still holding the bottle, just brush her cheek. Her eyes. Her eyes. He lost himself in them until the Dog's low warning growl cut tension and his awareness blossomed to where they were. He let her go, that strong arm guided her behind him. Dog crouched by the door. Cupid did the same on the opposite side. The lock turned while he replaced the bottle with a pistol.Preston Garvey sticks his head into Home Plate.

Dog barked an immediate retreat when Preston Garvey stuck his head into Home Plate.  "Hello, General. We've been trying to get you on the com."

[greatvals]

Aku dan Waktu

Bolehkah aku mengadu pada waktuku? Sebentar saja. Biarkan aku bersama waktuku. Aku ingin semua menjadi lebih baik.  

Hallo. Aku kembali lagi,aku menulis ini ketika aku sedang bermain. Permainan yang ku mainkan cukup konyol. Banyak melibatkan perasaan dalam permainan ini. Perasaan aku, dia dan mereka hingga yang jauh disana. Semuanya terlibat. Bayangkan, bagaimana bisa kita terhubung dalam satu perasaan yang sama. rasa yang susah di sebutkan namun ada. Rasa yang dimiliki setiap mereka yang sedang berada dalam kebingungan dunia.

aku sedang duduk dengan segelas kopi di meja saat ini. Memainkan jemari di atas smartphone sambil berpikir setiap kata yang akan berbicara. Sudah cukup lama aku tidak  bigini, berserah diri pada segelas kopi. It’s TIME!.

Cerita ku saat ini bukan tentang bagaimana rasanya kepada siapa, tapi rasa kepada sesuatu yang tak berwujud, sesuatu yang selalu ada dimanapun aku berada. Kamu bingung? Aku pun bingung tentang hal yang aku rindu. Hal itu selalu ada, tapi tak nyata, selalu bisa namun susah, dia selalu bersamaku, terbuang percuma tapi tak pernah habis begitu saja. Dia adalah Waktu. Ya rasa rindu kepada Waktu.

Aku merindukannya, waktu yang dulu pernah ada. Waktu yang selalu menemani dan membuat ku tertawa, waktu yang selalu bisa membuatku malas keluar rumah, hanya terbaring menikmatinya hingga hari berikutnya. Aku rindu waktu itu…

Semua orang memiliki waktu dan butuh waktu. Begitu pula aku, Dan biasa setiap orang punya waktu untuk sendiri, untuk keluarga, teman, sampai dalam bentuk lebih luas yaitu masyarakat. Yang sekarang Aku butuh adalah, aku butuh waktuku. Biarkan aku bersama waktuku sendiri. Aku ingin memanjakannnya, menikmatinya hingga aku merasa sudah waktunya aku membaginya lagi kepada mereka.

Aku sedang lelah, lelah membagi waktuku kepada mereka. Aku rasa mereka tidak menghargainya, menghargai setiap waktu yang ada. Tidakkah kalian merasa bahwa waktu kita terbuang percuma dan kemudian membuat pusing sesama? Cobalah pahami, detik ini aku ingin kalian paham akan waktuku dan waktumu sendiri. Cobalah kembali pada waktumu, ceritakan tentang dirimu kemarin, dengarlah, betapa egoisnya kamu mengambil waktuku dan membuang waktumu seakan kau berhasil membeli semua yang kau mau.

Maaf bila aku terlalu melibatkan perasaan yang lebih terhadap waktu. Tapi inilah aku, aku sangat menyayangi waktuku, ketika aku membaginya kepada kamu, tolong hargai itu nikmatilah agar kau tahu waktuku dan waktumu bisa membuat kita jatuh dalam rasa yang sama. Apakah kau tidak rindu waktumu? Jika tidak cobalah untuk sendiri dulu. Kau akan tahu betapa indahnya bila berhasil menikmati waktu. Aku sangat ingin kamu mencoba hal itu, bila kau ingin, maka aku juga akan kembali pada waktuku, dan bila sudah selesai, kita bertemu lagi dan menceritakan apa yang terjadi saat kau tidak bersama waktuku. Aku rasa itu akan jauh lebih baik. Kau akan tahu artinya.

Izinkan aku. Dengan penuh mohon. Aku ingin kembali ke waktuku, hanya sebentar saja, kemudian kita akan bertemu lagi dan menghabiskan waktu bersama. selamat menikmati waktumu, aku yakin kamu akan segera dapat jawabannya.

Valdy Niadi

12 April 2017.

karena waktu tidak diam, dia berbicara dengan caranya dan aksinya. pahamilah, dia tidak tidur, dan tak pernah mundur. dia akan selalu maju pada tujuan yang satu. nikmatilah dengan bijak, tanpa keterpaksaan melainkan dengan ke-ikhlasan.

[vprgirl1887]

Your first job was at Mathias Heimark’s Discount Van and Truck Rentals.

It took some time to convince Brock that you wanted to take the job. He kept insisting that you didn’t need it. He made millions of dollars with WWE, and you were welcome to stay with him as long as you needed. It wasn’t about money, though. Money would be a nice side benefit, of course, since you’d feel much more comfortable going out and buying yourself things if you had money of your own, but it wasn’t about money.

You just wanted something more to do during the day. Even hanging out with Lorraine wasn’t enough. Your brain longed to feel challenged, to be stimulated by something more than the therapist trying to uncover blocked memories hidden within its depths. So, finally, Brock relented and you got the job.

“Heimark’s Discount Van and Truck Rentals; Angel speaking, how may I help you?”

Angel was finally starting to feel comfortable in her new position. She worked at the front desk in the small shop, answering phone calls and filing paperwork. She booked appointments for people to come in and rent vehicles, though Mathias and his other three employees - Jakub, Zoe, and Andre - had handled all the actual rentals. Angel just dealt with the paperwork.

“Certainly. Let me just take a look here...we have appointments available all day on that date, so is there any particular time that you’d like?”

She keyed the customer’s information into the calendar, smiling even though the man over the phone obviously couldn’t see her. She was really enjoying this job. She’d even found somebody who could carpool with her when Brock wasn’t around. Andre lived out in the country and had agreed that he could drive Angel to work any time Brock was away at work. “I’m a huge fan of his,” Andre had admitted to her eagerly when he’d first heard about her living situation.

“Alright! I’ve got you down for ten in the morning. Is there anything else I can help you with? No? Okay, have a great day and we’ll see you next week!”

Angel hung up the phone just as Andre walked in, a grin on his lips. “Morning, Angel,” he said, reaching over and tousling her hair as he walked by. She laughed softly, quickly smoothing her hair back down.

“Good morning, Andre,” she replied, smiling up at him.

“Already making appointments?” he asked, nodding towards the calendar on the screen.

“Yeah,” she replied. 

“Do we have anything for today?” he asked.

“Not yet,” Angel replied. “Not unless someone calls or drops in.”

Andre grabbed a chair from the waiting area, pulling it over and setting it behind the desk so he could sit beside her. “Pull up that movie we started watching the other day, then,” he said, and Angel laughed softly.

“Sure,” she said, opening up the desktop folder with all the movies saved to it. She’d been surprised when Andre had first suggested watching a movie to pass the time, but he’d insisted that it was okay with Mathias. He’d even called the boss so he could verify it to Angel, and Mathias had confirmed that any of the movies in the desktop folder could be watched as long as there was nothing else to do. 

Since Angel had started, there’d been a lot of times when there was nothing else to do. She’d made short work of the filing, paperwork, and document processing that had piled up before Mathias had hired her, and now, she and Andre were working their way through the movie folder.

“You know,” Andre said after about half an hour of the movie playing, “it’s really great having you here. You’re probably the most professional person who’s ever worked at this place.”

“That’s impressive, considering this is my first job,” Angel laughed.

“Well, you sure don’t seem like you’re at your first job,” Andre replied. “You get stuff done, and you’ve got everything so well organized at this desk. I haven’t seen the desk this clear in years.”

“Well, I’m glad you guys appreciate having me here,” Angel said.

“Oh, I’m just speaking for myself. I don’t know about the others,” Andre laughed. “It’s nice to have a girl to talk to other than Zoe. You know, because she’s...Zoe.”

“I don’t think she’s that bad,” Angel said, hitting the spacebar to pause the movie while they talked.

“That’s because she thinks it’s nice to have another girl around,” Andre replied with a laugh. “She’s walking on eggshells with you. The rest of us are sick of her.”

“Well, I like her,” Angel replied, gently smacking his arm. “Did you consider that maybe she got so tired of your flirting that she started acting awful just to shut you down?”

“Hey, now,” Andre laughed, “I’m gonna take that to heart.”

The phone suddenly rang, cutting off their conversation. Angel smiled over at him. “Duty calls,” she said with a laugh before answering. “Heimark’s Discount Van and Truck Rentals; Angel speaking, how may I help you?”

[valderamand]

Resettling the attic wasn’t the hard part. That proved a simple enough task with minimal dusting, for little of note remained in there beyond a single box and a community of eight legged denizens. The boy that now resided beneath that gambrel roof on the second floor appeared to be the more difficult piece of the puzzle.

Tavares, for the most part, remained silent. Valder sat at the kitchen table, a floor below, brooding over a hot beverage in similar silence. What was the boy up to? Looking over narrow, stone slabs of the streets below from the window his room granted him? Those same, dull streets that winded forward and sidewise, connecting tightly woven homes that kept the light of the sun from reaching much of the ground below in this corner of Ebonhawke. Still, a cavalcade of autumnal trees erupted from the ground below only half a block away, creating quite the pleasing sight from the attic’s vantage point. That is, until one glanced past the sparse forest to spy the yawning walls of Ebonhawke just beyond. Perhaps Tavares reflected on what brought him here to his new home as he took in those seasonal vibrancies. What did he think of his new home? Of Valder and Arvanna? Of anything? The lad, for the most part, remained just as much an enigma as Azagale. 

Azagale. Valder didn’t even seem to notice the scorching heat of the cup against the grip of his palm as he sank back into those revelations. That grip only tightened as the thought of her end came back to him. As Ishraat came back to him. Part of Valder knew the Lightbringer couldn’t be held entirely accountable. But when Ishraat turned to leave their home for good, Valder felt that almost irresistible urge to scramble over the table before him and pounce atop the Lightbringer; to make him scream in carnal agony until oblivion washed over Tyria itself. To crash upon him like a tidal wave of terror and efface him from the earth like the ocean dragging a petty sand castle into the sea. But the man, in truth, stood responsible for the quite literal creation of Azagale, yes? And so Valder sat ruminating over contempt on one hand and gratitude on the other. 

If anything, her memory lived on in Tavares. Anything but normal, the forces of the universe seemed to grant this fourteen year old a chance at another path. A path free from the Order. At first glance at least. For all he knew, the lad could be shadowing Valder for other intentions. So when they passed one another in the hallway going about their day, Valder couldn’t help the twinge of skepticism and mistrust. Perhaps Tavares could sense it. Intelligence seemed an apt descriptor for any Castaño.

Wandering out to the living room, the Vanguard retrieved his lute. Fingers drifted over the strings in a poor imitation of a song from aeons past. The same song played by an old hag at the docks of Lion’s Arch. The same song played by a dark paramour with golden eyes. The same golden eyes found in a certain fourteen year old boy. 

As Valder reclined atop a collection of pillows and blankets, lute in hand, that poor imitation seemed more and more clear. Soon, shadows of memories danced throughout the house to the tune of a melancholy memory. 

[charomiami]

Part 5 Continuation of Confession co-written with @helloaschefire  who started with Farewell. 

Thank you, Ash for giving me such a good platform. 

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

SUPER LONG STORY POST! And I’m not sorry. I am just happy we were able to get this done before Christmas. Y’all... I had a meltdown over my own deadline. and @helloaschefire put up with me... she’s spectacular.  BUT DONE DONE DONE YAY!

A dream of home, the family cabin in the alps, slowly faded while the rhythmic chopping of wood grew louder. Valentina wasn’t sure if her head was what was actually being split open or actual fallen trees. The pillow she tried so desperately to shove against both ears was worthless.  (continued below the cut)

But then it came to her. 1) Angel was supposed to be gone today. 2) Even if Angel had stayed, Angel wouldn’t be chopping wood knowing Val was sleeping.  As painful as it was she patted around looking for her gun, a gun, any gun and found none to be within reach. As she flung her limbs to wrap the blankets around her, she realized she was dressed. Valentina knew that if Angel were around, she would not be clothed.

Slowly she crept to the camper’s back window and peeked out to where the sounds, sunlight, and the vision of Johan’s bareback came pouring in. A short bit later, and two cups of coffee in hand, she braved the hangover and opened the camper’s back door.

Johan looked up with an expression hard to read thanks to the goggles he wore to protect his eyes, but there is a smile beneath them, brief but true. He leaned the axe against the pile and wiped his brow with the back of his bare arm. "She lives."

"Barely, but..." she was going to ask what that means, did he see her knocked out? Was she snoring? Was she drooling? Oh gods, please no sleep talking! She pleaded with herself.

"What are you doing?" She took the trailer steps carefully until bare feet hit the cool autumn ground.  Her arm stretched out to present a cup of coffee just for him.

He reached for the cup, fingers brushed against Val’s. "I am chopping wood."

"I can...see that" She waited a moment keep the silly girl inside in check at his touch. Her cheeks felt hot but she was hungover so she hoped she just woke up that way. 

"But, why? And why here?" Hair fell into her eyes as she sipped her coffee. She didn’t bother to fix her bed head as she watched him. Dog and Cupid sped by, chasing a rabbit. "I am sure Angel appreciates you cutting firewood for her, but..."

"She needed woodcut." He shrugged before taking a sip of the coffee. "Dad always said, you stay a place, you take care of it."

The smirk growing on her face faded as she started to blink. She was about to say something clever but his words robbed her of wit and blew the fog from her mind.

"Stay at a place, but you don't..." You don't stay here, did you stay here, what you don't stay here. None of these made it past her lips.  "I don't understand."

He unbuckled the goggles. As they pulled free, their presence lingered in the indentations around his eyes. He grabbed his shirt off the wood box by the trailer. "It's all right. You're still full of fog. Let's go back inside."

She still had no clue or maybe she did and she didn't want to admit it. The truth was scarier than any dream.

He held the door for her, squinting at Dog who yawned in response before cavorting with Cupid once again. The pair would keep an eye on the place while Jo and Val were distracted with each other.

She took as big a drink of her coffee as the temperature would allow and slowly turned to go back inside. As she crossed the threshold she caught her reflection and knew she needed to get right, inside and outside. Shamelessly she stopped in front of the mirror but made enough room to let him get by. 

She at least had the decency to apologize, "I'm sorry, I look awful." She whipped her hair up into an old ballet bun that had been second nature for most of her life.  "But a shower will have to wait I suppose." she half mumbled to herself.

"I don't think you've ever looked awful." Ducking, bobbing and weaving his way through the tiny space to the kitchenette. He would get her to a shower once she was awake enough to pay attention to their surroundings. "You want something to eat? Tato? Mutfruit? I think there are some beans."

She did a double take in his direction, as discreetly as she could anyway, with fingers pushing up loose strands and trying to wipe bits of makeup she left on. She was again about to say something but he beat her to the punch with an offer for breakfast?

She peeked around the little corner cut off, "You really don't have to but, I am hungry to be honest. Angel keeps some breakfast things in the cubby." Right where he was at. "There. But you have to let me help. You already did too much this morning."

She tried to secretly sniff her shirt collar and could smell she'd been sitting next to someone smoking those cheap cigarettes last night. The gag face was there and thankfully Johan could NOT see that!

While he was in the other area she quickly pulled off her shirt from the night before and was happily grabbing something clean she kept around Angel's for spares.

His shirt was draped over one shoulder. The goggles and coffee cup set aside on the counter. He found the cubby and the breakfast things. Cakes and bread, and butter? Score. "I don't mind. I used to do this for No..." He turned around just in time to see a bareback.

She pulled the shirt over and tightened her bun one more time before turning around and seeing Jo, in a domestic kinda setting with his shirt. She bit her lip and smirked,  a mental slap given and received before she tried to slink by him. He couldn't feel her eyes on his chest could he?! She gave herself another slap. Why god why? why do you do this I'm a good girl.

She grinned her best grin at Johan trying to play cool. She didn't hear him about to say Nora, nope nope. Lordy, Nora was a lucky girl. Yes, she heard it and it didn't bother her at all.

"You sure? You don't want help? I mean you've never been here," she offered. Her headache was growing smaller and smaller. 

"It's a big place. I will need your help not to get lost," he joked and gave her another smile that brightened his face and was suddenly gone.  He laid out things for her to eat. "Sit. You're not feeling well."

She hadn't seen him smile, well a true smile, this many times in such a short span. Why did she love it so much? She sat down the chair on the other side of the table that would allow her to face him.  She watched him as he kept putting things in front of her.

"I... feel better but" yes it was still there, but she was distracted enough to forget until she moved or looked a certain way.  "Please, you will join me, raring,  won't you? Don't forget to eat since you were working so hard. I can restock her stores later."

"Please?" She felt bad as it was, she put extra pout into that please to make sure he ate something for her.

"All right," he agreed. He poured more coffee before settling down opposite. Just the two of them. Again. The place was just as crowded as Home Plate but cozier. He felt more relaxed than he had in months.

Valentina tried to focus on her breakfast and coffee instead of him. It was torture. She started talking about breakfast they would have back home when she was little. She missed those days. She never told anyone a lick about home. Her mother, her sister, her father. Those moments. But they were just as out there as the fruit on the plate for Jo. She actually laughed telling him a story about her sister laughing milk out her nose, as she picked at the best parts of a mutfruit.

She liked the way he looked in the halo of sunlight coming in from the camper's cheesy bubble dome skylight. Why did he have to be so...

"Oh your coffee ..." She went to pick up the kettle thinking she'd been going on and on and it was time to stop.

He enjoyed hearing her stories of home more than she might ever know. He'd been homesick ever since he woke up and chatting with the Good Neighbor ghouls only went so far. They'd been changed by the war. Horribly so and their memories were fading. His and Valentina's were right there, on the surface. Every day they spent in this future became a comparison of what they left behind. It was unhealthy. They both needed to look forward, but here in this place. "It's all right. I've had enough." He reached for her hand, to keep her there. To hold her hand.

"Oh, okay." She was stopped in her tracks by such a simple motion. She forgot all about the kettle, all about home, all about everything but his hand on hers. She couldn't take her eyes away. She was scared to look up at him, to look him in the eyes, but she did.

"Johan," she was also scared to ask him what she should have asked him from the beginning. Even though he kind of dodged her question in the most charming way.  What is going on? Are you okay? Why are you really here? is everything okay? 

"How did you know to come up here this morning?" She laced her fingers in his, just this once before he would pull them away. How do you explain a touch that starts at the tip of a finger but touches your heart? She was going to suffer for this later and she knew it. She didn't care.

The thought of pulling away was as distant as their pasts. Their fingers in knots than laces. He took a deep breath and squeezed. He would not let her go. "I've been here since yesterday before you got here."

"Yesterday?" She didn't blink her amber eyes this time, instead, they grew slowly wider and wider. She was now a deer in the headlights. Before you got here. She started to put pieces together. She tried to withdraw her hand but it wouldn't budge.

Why the door was open to the camper

Why she smelled his scent in her dream.

Why she was still dressed instead of her usual.

Why he knew she wasn't well.

He heard it all? No no, she wouldn't cry. She said that was over. But the embarrassment was long-lasting. She put her head in her free hand and confessed, "I'm so sorry Jo. You weren't supposed to..."

"I know. Angel wouldn't let me leave. I'm sorry." He relaxed his grip enough that she could pull free if she wanted. He hoped and wished and prayed so hard she wouldn't untangle their fingers. "and then, it wasn't right to leave you like that, alone." He paused, brows furrowed because this was hard. He was taught not to be so expressive. Be the rock. Be her rock. But how could he if she did not want him to know how she felt?

She wished Angel would have stayed out of it, but it was still her own damn fault. Valentina didn't move her fingers. Instead, without looking, she ran her thumb slowly over his knuckle. 

"I just didn't think it was fair with everything going on and, then you and Piper and I got the wrong idea. But then at .." she looked up... "Was that a safe house or a warehouse?"

The question came out of left field and made him blink and look up from what she was doing with her thumb. "What? Oh, a little of both. I used it for a while when I was still tracking Kellogg, but now, seemed better used by the Minutemen."

Her humor was trying to kick in as a secondary. She nodded thinking about his answer. His expression made the tiniest of grins appear in the corner of her lips and in her eyes.

"Well, General." she shrugged softly. "What else can I do. You know my secret now. You have me at a very big disadvantage." She knew it wasn't too big. He was still holding her hand, and he had smiled. She could still feel his arm about her even if it was so brief a moment. He hid her for safety not out of fear. But now what? Did he know how close she was to daring him to kiss her or worse?

"I've known for a while, but I couldn't do anything about it. I...wanted to do something. I did. I should never have been with Piper,” he said.

"Awww... wait," Just how many aces does this man have up his sleeve? "What do you mean,  you've known a while?"

This would be the last ace. All the cards laid on the table. "Did I ever tell you that my grandmother came from Stockholm, raring?" He would likely take a hit for this ace. He braced for it, turning his head so he could watch her from the corner of his eye.

She did pull her hand away. She pulled her whole body away from the table though briefly. She moved around to his side of the table and rabbit punched him right in the shoulder in a torrent of words and phrases she was SURE he understood now. Each comparing him to a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"How, why you didn't tell me?" She jumped on his lap and punched his shoulder once more! "You let me make a fool out of myself, and you...." now there was a full-blown pout of all time and she would stay there with a hot glare until he had an answer.

“If I told you, you would have stopped. Right?”

“Well, yes. But...”

“But,” he cut her off gently. “Hearing that made this whole terrible world somehow, better.”

Each word from Johan’s mouth knocked down the last bricks in the wall Valentina had built, and all the words she never wanted to say came right out. It must have shown in her eyes as Johan’s hands rose up and cupped Valentina’s face drawing it closer to his.

“I’ve loved you for so long, Jo.”

“I’ve loved you even longer.”

Time seemed to freeze for Valentina, hearing Johan’s words. She fell to him and his lips with a kiss she’d held back for an eternity. He didn't hesitate and never would again. Warm mouths, soft caress of their lips, it was finally the moment they once only imagined.

Thank you YAY They are OFFICIAL now! YAY I am so happy! I’ll do a headcanon bullet-pointy thing for them later. I am slammed today with a commission and real life.

MY BALLERINA HAS HER GINGER GENERAL!

[charomiami]

TARBERRIES AND MUTFRUIT cont...

More as I promised. I’ll stop spamming later! Johan belongs to @helloaschefire cause they are awesome! Continued from  TARBERRIES AND MUTFRUIT

After a quick couple promises, Valentina gave her guardian angel a quick hug and peck on the cheek. “Now, one more time.” Magnolia straightened a small strand of Val’s ponytail into place. She always admired its honey color and how well the woman took care of it. “I promise.” And she meant it as she reached for the door and opened it with a lighter heart. Even for just a moment...

As fate would have it, that same moment Piper and Johan stepped out of their room directly across the hall. Valentina didn't have to worry about the look on her face as even almost colliding into them, the refused to make eye contact with her.

Piper seemed more bundled in her trademark red coat than usual. She appears to pretend Val didn’t exist even when Val put on a quick smile. A smile that faded into confusion rather quickly. Turning her head to Johan, a smile less bright and still tainted with confusion. She was greeted with the same avoidance as the two were suddenly a pair of backs bathed in the light of the morning lit hall. She felt one brow lift slowly while its mate lowered. The sudden snickering behind her made that stop quickly. Turning to give  Mages a shrug, Val dusted off her hat out of habit. “I guess I’ll go home. Hey, Mags...?” “Yeah Val?” “Thanks for everything.” “Hey, we gals gotta stick together. But you just be safe getting home.” Val left the hotel and her thoughts behind as she headed over to Daisy’s. Daisy often let the dogs stay there when the friends started drinking. She’d owe Daisy for an all nighter now. Daisy wasn’t one to take advantage of. Not like you really ever could get one over on her, but Daisy had always been a stand-up lady. A little while later, the jingle in her pocket was a lot of caps lighter. But Cupid was happily toting a very over priced new teddy bear out of Goodneighor in her teeth. Anytime Val mentioned how handsome the bear was, the white mutt would perk her ears and make even happier noises. They’d left on their own for the long trip back to Sanctuary. Val and Cupid were on their own it seems. Cait must have gone on ahead, she said she had something to take care of in Diamond City and may be a few days. Preston, Simone, Johan and perhaps Piper had all headed back to the castle as Dog was not anywhere Val could see in Goodneighbor. Val and Cupid would make a stop at a few of the settlements along the way to rest and to catch up. Some of the kids loved to play with Cupid when she’d come visit. It was more than obvious that Cupid very much enjoyed the attention. Mostly the stops acted as a good distraction for Valentina and a chance to see if any news of Angel or anything else for that matter. It was easier for the duo to travel during daylight than night. Cupid’s coat made her stand out quite a bit even when Val let her stay kinda dirty and tried to get some profile armor. But leaving this early, if they kept the visits short, they’d be home before sunset. “You ready girl?” Val did take the new bear from Cupid and tucked it into her own pack before slinging it on her shoulders. A quick sound Val could only assume was ‘yes’ came with a wagging tail. “After you then.” Val smiled and held the door open to the Commonwealth.

[vprgirl1887]

Your first real friend was Lorraine. After the whole ordeal that you two had been through together, you found it easy to bond. Her parents were overjoyed to see that she was safe, and they quickly welcomed you into the family. Lorraine was behind almost an entire semester in school, and much to her dismay, she was going to have to push everything back a year.

The two of you quickly started hanging out. Your leg was still messed up, and would be for a little while, but Brock was recovering well - the bullet hadn’t entered his arm, but had grazed it pretty badly, so he had gotten off lucky. All of you had, really.

Where Lizzie had been brash, impulsive, and reckless, Lorraine was thoughtful, intelligent, and goal-oriented. She even had a ten-year plan, though she was concerned that pushing back a year of law school would mess that up. “Does that ten-year plan involve marriage and kids?” you’d asked her at one point, but she’d shaken her head.

“No way,” she’d said. “I want to focus on my career first. Once I’m established in my career and can afford marriage and kids, then I can find someone. Besides, it’s easier to find someone when you’ve got money.”

“What if someone finds you before you’re ready?”

“Then I guess I change the plan.”

“Angel?”

Groggily, Angel’s eyes fluttered open. She was lying on the living room floor in a sleeping bag, and Lorraine was sound asleep on the couch. Brock was standing in the doorway, his blue eyes gazing intently towards her. Early morning sunlight was peeking through the window, lighting up the room just enough for Angel to make out everything around her.

“Hmm?” she grumbled, looking at Brock.

“I have to go,” he said, his voice soft so as not to wake the sleeping Lorraine. “I have a flight to catch. Lorraine’s parents are gonna pick her up later. If you go over there with her, make sure to lock up behind you.”

“Wait,” Angel said, trying to untangle herself from within the sleeping bag. She stood up, limping sleepily over to him and wrapping her arms around him. “Be careful wrestling tonight, okay? Your arm-”

“Yeah, the doctors are gonna check out my arm for themselves,” Brock said, hugging her back. “The doctors here said it should be fine, and honestly I’m probably not wrestling tonight anyways. It’ll probably just be a promo with Paul.”

“Well, we’ll be watching,” Angel replied, grinning up at him. She’d been slowly getting Lorraine into wrestling. Lorraine had quickly decided on Sasha Banks and Roman Reigns as favourites, though she had agreed that she’d always cheer for Brock when he came on. This was his first time going back to work since everything had gone down, though, so Angel figured that it was time for Lorraine to prove herself.

“Be careful on your leg, okay?” Brock said, gazing down at her. “Use your crutches if you have to That’s what they’re-”

“I know, I know, that’s what they’re for,” Angel said with a laugh. “I’ll be careful. Promise.”

Brock gave her a kiss on the forehead and then left. Angel was on her way back to the sleeping back when she heard Lorraine speak up.

“You really like him, don’t you?” she murmured, gazing towards Angel sleepily.

“Yeah, of course,” Angel replied, sitting down on top of the sleeping bag.

“Not like that,” Lorraine said softly. ‘I mean, you like him. Like, like-like.”

Angel paused when she heard her friend’s words. She was quiet for a moment, looking away. “Well,” she said finally, “you’re not wrong.”

They made chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, making sure to clean up well behind themselves. Lorraine’s mother texted her that she was almost there, so they packed their bags to go stay the night at Lorraine’s house. They were just about to put their shoes on when the phone rang.

“I’ll get that,” Angel said. Brock had Lorraine’s number and her parents’ numbers so he could contact her while she was with them, but it might have been him calling without knowing that she was about to leave. She grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Miss Angel?” asked an unfamiliar male voice.

“Yes,” Angel replied curiously. “Who is this?”

“My name is Mathias Heimark,” the voice replied. “I own a moving van and tuck rental place just outside the city. As I’m sure you know, Arnold Thrane - the man who kidnapped you recently - rented a van from my company with the intention of using it to transport you and the other girl you were with to another location without your consent.”

“Um...yes?” Angel said softly, frowning. “I’m sorry, why are you calling me?”

“My company doesn’t have the best reputation, and after finding out what had happened with Thrane, I realized that I want to work on improving my company’s situation. I’m very sorry about what happened to you. I never would have allowed the van to be rented to him if I’d realized that it was for human trafficking purposes. I’ve decided to start work on legitimizing my company more and establishing more effective policies, and-”

“Okay, but what does this have to do with me?” Angel cut in, annoyed that this man only seemed to want to justify his actions to her.

“Well, after finding out what happened, I was told about your rather unique situation and since I was partially responsible for what happened to you, I wanted to make it up to you in some way. I was wondering if you’d be interested in a job working for me?”

“You want to offer me a job?” Angel asked, her eyes growing wide. Lorraine was watching, listening to Angel’s side of the conversation with bated breath.

“Yes!” Mathias replied. “You don’t have to answer me right away, but think about it and get back to me, alright? It’s the least I can offer you after my company and our lack of policy almost allowed you to be shipped away like that.”

“Umm...wow,” Angel said softly. “I can’t legally work, though. I don’t have an identity.”

“Cash only,” Mathias replied. “It’d all be under the table, if that’s okay with you.”

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“Of course! Take all the time you need. If you are ever looking for a job, you have one with me.”

Angel thanked the man and then hung up, looking up to see Lorraine’s eyes locked intensely on her. “Well?” she asked. “Who was it?”

“The rental company that almost shipped us to Calgary,” Angel replied, frowning. “They want to offer me an under-the-table job to make up for what happened to us.”

[vprgirl1887]

Tagging: @sophiagriff

Your first rescue was not what you’d expected.

Then again...was it your first rescue? Brock had rescued you from a cold death in the woods, after all. Perhaps this was just your first police rescue. Either way, it wasn’t what you’d expected. You were crammed in the box, sobbing as much as you could against the duct tape after seeing Brock get shot. Was he even still alive? You had no way of knowing.

The van had started moving. It had been bumpy, especially as he got faster, and you once again had to resign yourself to the idea that you were never seeing Brock again. You had only Lorraine, and no idea where you were going. The van stopped, but then it didn’t start moving again. You’d assumed it was another red light, but then you heard voices and the sound of the back being opened.

You kicked your feet a little, hoping that somebody would hear you. A minute later, the chest was opened and you were gazing up into the friendly and familiar face of Officer Moreau. When he saw you, he grinned. You were saved.

Brock awoke in the hospital. He could hear the steady beeping of a machine, and there was a searing pain in his arm. He’d been shot. He couldn’t believe that man had shot him. But, more importantly, he had to know what had happened to Angel.

He started to get up. A nurse came rushing in. “Sir, sir, you need to lie down,” she said. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, and-”

“Angel! I need to see Angel,” Brock said. “Is she alright? Did they find her?”

The nurse frowned. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just sit down, and we can-”

“Where’s Officer Moreau?” Brock asked.

“Officer Moreau? He’s with - oh.” The woman paused, frowning. “With two young ladies...one of whom is named Angel. I understand now.”

“I need to see her,” Brock said.

“I can go and see whether she can come here,” the nurse replied. “Just please, lie down.”

“Promise that you’ll bring her here? Or at least Officer Moreau?” Brock asked.

“I’ll at least bring Officer Moreau,” the nurse said. “I can promise you that.”

It was several minutes before the nurse returned, to the point where Brock was considering getting up and going looking for her. She was pushing Angel in a wheelchair, though, and his heart leapt when he saw her.

“Angel!” he said. “You’re okay!”

“Brock!” Angel exclaimed, her face lighting up when she saw him. “Oh my god, Brock, I was so scared for you!”

“Scared for me?” Brock asked as the nurse pushed the wheelchair right up to the side of the bed. “Scared for you, you mean!”

“No,” Angel said softly, reaching out and gently taking his hand. “I was scared you were dead, Brock. I didn’t know what had happened until Officer Moreau found us.”

“Are you okay? Why are you in a wheelchair?” Brock asked, gazing intently up at her.

“Lower leg fracture,” Angel replied softly. “When he was handcuffing me, I told Lorraine to run, and he kicked my leg in so I couldn’t escape while he went to catch her...he broke my leg a bit.”

“Oh, Angel,” Brock said softly, lifting a hand and gently laying it on her cheek. “I’m so relieved that you’re okay.”

“I’m relieved that you’re okay,” Angel said, giving him a smile. “I spoke on the phone with Paul and-”

“I’m not worried about work right now, Angel,” said Brock, shaking his head. “All that matters is that you’re here and you’re safe. Work can wait.”

[vprgirl1887]

Your first time being held hostage, and hopefully your last time, was by an unknown man in an unknown basement. You weren’t even really sure if you were still in the city. Luckily, you had the company of Lorraine.

Lorraine’s parents were the ones who had contacted you, and her mother was the woman you’d met at the door - the one who’d been so crestfallen to see that you weren’t Lorraine. You took some joy in relaying this story back to Lorraine, who began to cry when she heard that her parents were still looking for her, and that they were heartbroken over her disappearance.

“I’ve been down here this whole time,” Lorraine explained to you. “I don’t even really know how long it’s been.”

“You just missed Valentine’s Day,” you told her. She said that she didn’t mind. She didn’t have a boyfriend or girlfriend. All she had any more was this gloomy basement and the shred of hope she clung to. Now, though, she had you, and she had confirmation that her hope wasn’t unfounded. Her parents were still looking for her. You could only hope that yours, wherever they may be, were doing the same.

“So, let me get this straight,” Angel said softly, lying on the mattress and staring at the ceiling, “you’ve been here for three months, you get fed daily, you have as much water as you need, but you have no idea why you’re here?”

“Bingo,” Lorraine replied. “He has a gun, too. When he brings food, he tells me to lie face-down on the mattress, and then he puts the food on the table and leaves again.”

“How do you know he has a gun if you’re face-down on the mattress?” Angel asked.

“I peeked once,” Lorraine admitted, glancing briefly away. “I saw it pointed at me.”

“Oh,” Angel breathed. She went quiet for a moment, thinking it over. In the corner of the room, there was an open case of water from which Lorraine had been taking bottles. “What about the water? How does he replace that?”

“He brings in a new case when I run out,” Lorraine replied.

“How does he carry his gun if he’s lugging in a case of water?” Angel asked. Lorraine was quiet for a moment, looking at Angel.

“I started my first year of law school back in September,” she said after a minute of silence. “I’m supposed to be learning to be a lawyer, and it didn’t even cross my mind that he can’t carry a case of water and a gun at the same time.”

“That’s our chance, then,” Angel said softly. “When he brings in the next case of water, we’ll have an opportunity to get out of here.”

“We should get drinking, then,” Lorraine said with a small giggle. “Although, I know this isn’t really gonna be a popular opinion, but maybe we should wait until the second time he brings more water? If we watch him this time, if we peek, we’ll see what he’s doing - whether he’s got the gun tucked under his arm, or in his belt, or not at all - and then we’ll know for next time, just in case he brings it in with him anyways.”

“You’re smart,” Angel mused.

“Not smart enough to realize that he can’t carry a gun and a case of water at the same time, though,” Lorraine said, shaking her head. “I feel so dumb.”

“You’re not,” Angel said. “Just feeling a bit hopeless, I’d say. I would be too if I’d been trapped down here for three months all by myself.”

“Time to drink lots of water, then?” asked Lorraine, and Angel laughed.

“Yeah,” she said. “If he questions how much water we’re going through, just tell him that I drink a lot of water. Maybe he’ll second-guess his decision to keep me here.”

“I’d rather that not happen,” Lorraine said. “You’re the first person I’ve spoken to since I got here. I don’t want to be alone any more.”

Angel was quiet for a moment. Then, she got up and sat down on Lorraine’s mattress beside her. She hugged the other girl’s shoulders gently.

“You’re not going to be alone,” she said. “We’ll find a way out of here. I promise.”

They each grabbed a water bottle, twisting the top off. “I’ll race you,” Lorraine said, and Angel laughed.

“You’re on,” she said. “Three...two...one...go!”

Both girls started chugging their water bottles. Lorraine won, but only by a little bit, and they both tossed their bottles into the recycling bin beside the table. Angel hadn’t even noticed it there until Lorraine put her bottle in it. “When does he take that out?” Angel asked.

“When it’s full,” Lorraine replied. “He looks at it when he brings in the food and water, I guess, and sometimes after he drops off the food I’ll hear him take the bag out. He doesn’t replace the bag, though, there’s a roll of bags in the bottom of the bin and I do it myself.”

“He sure has left you a lot of resources for someone being held hostage,” Angel said, looking around. “You’ve got a fully functional bathroom, food and water, plastic bags, plastic bottles, a lamp...”

“I often wonder how he knows I won’t drown myself,” Lorraine said. “I mean, obviously I’m worth something to him alive, otherwise he wouldn’t be keeping me here.”

“I guess the same goes for me,” Angel said softly. “You haven’t...you know, thought about drowning yourself, have you?”

“A few times,” Lorraine replied. “I figure it’d be easy to do it in the toilet, since there’s no tub in the shower enclosure. But I always tell myself not to think like that, that my family’s coming for me eventually...”

“You know,” Angel said softly, “I don’t know my family. I have severe retrograde amnesia. I was found in the woods shortly after the New Year and nobody seems to know who I am.”

“Whoa,” Lorraine said, her eyes growing wide. “That’s insane.”

“The good thing about it, though,” Angel said softly, smirking, “is that the guy I’m staying with - the guy who found me - is a professional wrestler and a former UFC champion and as soon as he realizes that I’m missing, whoever’s keeping us here is going to regret it.”

[vprgirl1887]

Tagging: @sophiagriff

Your first escape attempt did not go well.

Both you and Lorraine were getting frantic. If he relocated you, it would be much harder for law enforcement - and Brock - to find you. So, you decided that if the opportunity to escape - even just for one of you - presented itself, you’d take it.

Shortly after what you figured should have been lunchtime, he came down to get you. He had his gun out, but he put it away so he could handcuff your hands behind your backs. That, you figured, was the opportune moment. If one of you ran, he’d have to choose between pursuing that one - and thus letting the other one run, too - or finishing up with handcuffing the first one before pursuing the second, who could very well have escaped by then.

He came to handcuff you first, and as he grabbed your first hand, you looked up over his shoulder at Lorraine. “Run,” you said as he began to close the cuff down around your wrist, and with no hesitation, she did. 

Intense pain radiated through Angel’s leg as the man’s foot made contact with it. She let out a pained cry and crumpled to the floor in a heap. 

“Don’t move,” the captor growled, and immediately darted out of the room after Lorraine. Angel wasn’t sure she could move, though, not with the pain in her leg. She was sobbing in pain, trying her hardest to get up - some way, any way. Before she managed to, though, the man reappeared at the door with one hand gripping Lorraine’s elbow and the other holding his gun. He had it pointed at her head, and was entering slowly.

“Please don’t hurt her,” Angel whimpered.

“I won’t, as long as you both do everything I say,” the man growled, clearly angry. “You’re both extremely valuable to me, but I can’t allow either of you to put me at risk. If you become liabilities, you die. It’s as simple as that.”

“I understand,” Lorraine said, trembling as the man kept the gun pointed at her head. “W-we’ll cooperate. Just please, don’t hurt us.”

The man let go of Lorraine’s elbow and then handed her the pair of handcuffs. “New plan,” he said. “Put these on her.”

“M-me?” Lorraine asked, her eyes widening.

“Yes,” he growled. “Now.”

Lorraine hesitantly approached Angel with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s okay,” Angel replied in a soft voice. Her leg was barely supporting her as Lorraine gently fastened the handcuffs around Angel’s slender wrists.

“Tighter,” said the man. Lorraine looked at Angel, who nodded, and then she tightened them a bit. A whimper left Angel’s lips, and once the man seemed satisfied, he pulled Lorraine back towards him. 

He handcuffed her next, and then he placed thick strips of duct tape over both of their mouths. Then, with his gun out, he nodded towards the door. Angel looked at Lorraine, who looked at Angel, and then the pair of them began to walk out, followed by the man.

He led them to a large wooden chest, and then he opened it. “Inside,” he growled. The girls’ eyes widened, but a wiggle of his gun had them quickly obeying. Lorraine got in first, awkwardly lying down before Angel climbed in after her. There was just enough room for them to both lie down inside the chest without being too cramped or uncomfortable, and then the man shut the lid, leaving the girls helpless and squished in the darkness.

[vprgirl1887]

Secret Santa

Pairing: Reader X Brock Lesnar

Word Count: 2,351

Contains: Fluff. The annual WWE Secret Santa exchange is coming up and the reader has no idea what to buy for Brock Lesnar.

“Okay, [Y/N], it’s time to pick a name for Secret Santa!”

You raised an eyebrow as Alicia Fox walked up to you with Bayley. Both were wearing Santa hats with lights on them, and they were carrying a red and green elf hat. It was upside-down and filled almost to the brim with tiny slips of paper.

“Seriously?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. You’d hardly been a member of the Raw roster for a month; there was no way you’d be able to pick out good presents for anyone here.

“Everyone’s in it,” Bayley said.

“I think someone’s already got your name anyways,” Alicia added. She had a clipboard tucked under her arm, but the front page was covered with a sticker-covered sheet of red construction paper. “So you don’t have a choice.”

“I’m gonna suck at this,” you grumbled, but reluctantly stuck your hand in the elf hat. You rummaged around in the hat, pulling out a folded slip of paper. You carefully unfolded it and read the name written on it.

Brock Lesnar.

“Who’d you get?” Alicia asked, handing the hat to Bayley as she took out the clipboard and lifted the red paper so she could jot it down.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned, turning the paper so Alicia could see it.

“Ooh!” said Alicia, scribbling it down on her clipboard. “Good luck!”

“Sasha had him last year,” said Bayley with a smile. “it’s not as hard as you’d think.”

“What did she get him?” you asked, perking up slightly. Maybe hearing what others had thought of would help to inspire you.

“A hat and gloves,” Bayley replied. 

“Good luck!” chimed Alicia, looping her arm through Bayley’s and scurrying off towards the next unsuspecting gift-giver. Again, you groaned. This was not going to go well.

You were lying on your couch, desperately searching the third page of Google search results for Brock Lesnar. There had to be some sort of information that would hint at gift ideas for him, but so far, you’d found nothing. Had this been several months ago, you could have simply asked around for Sable’s phone number and asked her to help you with ideas, but they had long since split up and you knew that wasn’t an option.

Flicking her tail, your cat was glaring at you from the far end of the couch. She was keeping your feet warm, but apparently wanted more attention. You sighed, finally closing your laptop and setting it aside.

“Sorry, kitty,” you mumbled, pulling her into your lap for some cuddles. “I just have no idea what to get for Secret Santa.”

The cat just meowed. Of course she couldn’t help you. She was a cat. At this point, you were half-tempted to just get Brock a mug and wrap it up in one of his own t-shirts. You’d barely spoken to him before. Part of that was because he wasn’t around often, part of it was because you were still new, and part of it was because you just had issues talking to men you were attracted to. You hadn’t mentioned it to any of the other girls, but he was absolutely your type.

Your phone suddenly dinged. Surprised, and a bit confused as to who was texting you so late in the evening, you grabbed it and checked. It was a text message from an unknown number, and all it said was “hey”.

“Hey who is this?” you texted back quickly, quirking an eyebrow. It was probably someone from work; Alexa had a habit of giving people your phone number and then forgetting to let you know.

“It’s your Secret Santa,” the number texted back. “I’ve got an early gift for you.”

“What is it?” you asked, suddenly intrigued. The Secret Santa Christmas party was supposed to be before the Christmas episode of Raw, and you were supposed to exchange gifts there.

“Brock Lesnar’s favourite candies are Snickers and Warheads,” the number texted back, and your eyes widened. How did your Secret Santa know that you’d drawn Brock’s name? And how did they know his favourite candies? “Also he’s been looking at this,” came a second message a moment later, with a link attached to it.

You quickly opened the link, which led to a really neat-looking hammer that opened up into a multi-tool with all sorts of other tools inside - a screwdriver, a bottle opener, a wire cutter, a knife... You immediately hit the ‘Order Now’ button, your browser autofilling your information for you to save time. Once it was ordered, you went back into your messages.

“Thanks,” you texted back. “You’re literally my hero right now.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you on Christmas,” came the response, and you, satisfied, gathered up your kitty and headed to bed.

You were disappointed that Brock hadn’t come to the Christmas episode of Raw. You’d been looking forward to seeing his reaction to his gift. You’d bought a pretty little Christmas box with a cartoon Santa face on the front. You’d put in a mug full of mini Snickers bars, a handful of full-sized Snicker bars, five packages of Warheads, a pair of those thermal socks that were supposed to be really great, and the hammer, which you’d wrapped in shiny red paper. It was obviously a hammer, but the red paper looked good.

All of the presents were neatly piled up on a table by Bayley and Alicia, and everybody was crowded into the catering area to receive their gifts. Alicia was simply grabbing the gifts at random, delivering them to their recipients and then clapping when they’d finished opening it. It was actually pretty fun to see what everybody had received. Cesaro had been given a massive cookbook, Seth Rollins had received a stack of t-shirts, and Mickie James had been given a pair of legwarmers that flared out the way her ring gear pants did. Everyone had a good laugh about that one.

When Alicia presented your gift to you, you were surprised by how large it was. You took the box from Alicia, which was wrapped in a striped red and green paper, and quickly tore off the wrapping paper. It was a basic cardboard box taped shut, and Alicia was quick to present you with an exacto-knife to get the box open.

The first thing you saw inside was a small box with the Bronner’s logo on it. You grabbed that first, opening it up and pulling out the ornament inside. It was a bright blue with snowflakes and white writing on it that said “There’s snow-one like you!” You laughed as you read that, showing it off briefly before moving along.

There were tons of random objects in the box, but each one of them was perfect for you. There was a large green hoodie that said “World’s Best Cat Mom”, there was a beautiful white scarf, hat, and mitten set, there were tons of various chocolates and candies scattered throughout the box - all of which were ones you enjoyed - and there was a jar full of chocolate chip cookie mix. There were a handful of cheesy romance novels, the kind you loved, and at the very bottom of the box, there was a small jewelry box - bigger than a ring box, but smaller than a necklace box.

Curiously, you pulled it out and snapped it open. Your jaw all but hit the floor as you saw the large diamond drop earrings inside. They were beautiful, and they looked expensive. You looked around the room, and everyone was watching you curiously. You carefully held the box up, turning it around so they could see.

“Wow!” exclaimed Sasha, her eyes going wide. “Damn, [Y/N], someone went all-out for you!”

You were utterly speechless, just staring at the earrings. After a moment, you began to take them out of the box - carefully, of course, because they seemed too precious to touch. You put them in your ears, turning your head a few times to feel the way they moved. 

“These are amazing,” you said softly. “Um - I don’t know who my Secret Santa is, but thank you so much. All these presents are great.”

“Woo hoo!” exclaimed Alicia, clapping, and this time around, a few other people joined in.

They carried on with the gift-giving, and though you enjoyed watching the others receive their gifts, you spent the rest of the evening curious about your own Secret Santa. All of these gifts had been perfect. Who could it have been that knew you so well? Some of the Secret Santas revealed themselves to their partners over the course of the gift-giving, but whoever yours was, they weren’t speaking up. When the party finished, there were only a few gifts left on the table. Your gift for Brock was one of them.

Raw itself went well, and by the time it was over, despite being away from their families, everybody was laughing and having a good time. Almost everybody was leaving as soon as the show was over, heading home to join their families. You were going home the next night instead, heading to see your parents for a few days before you had to go back to work. You decided to grab something to eat quickly before heading back to your hotel, but as you went into the catering area, you spotted Brock and Alicia over by the gift table.

You stopped dead in your tracks. He looked amazing, dressed in a suit and tie. You weren’t sure why he was so dressed up, but Alicia was just reaching to grab his gift when she spotted you. “Oh! Y/N, hey!” she called out, and Brock glanced over. A smile danced on his lips and you felt a blush come across your cheeks.

“Hey,” you mumbled awkwardly, walking over to them. “Coming to get your gift, I take it? I heard your Secret Santa was pretty disappointed not to see you tonight,” you said, a little bolder than you’d intended, but he chuckled.

“Delayed flight,” he replied. “I never miss Secret Santa.”

“Brock always gives the best gifts,” Alicia said. “Last year he made Charlotte cry.”

“From the looks of things, I think my Secret Santa did a great job this year,” Brock said, glancing into the box and eyeing up all the candy. He then set the box down and pulled out the hammer, turning it over in his hands. “I know exactly what this is,” he said, a grin slowly coming to his lips.

“Well, you’d better make sure to thank your Secret Santa,” Alicia replied. “I’ve gotta go now, though - see you guys later!”

“Later, Alicia,” you said as she bounded off, leaving you alone with Brock. Your heart was already starting to speed up, and his blue eyes were gazing intensely down at you.

“So, I believe I have you to thank for the gift?” he asked, holding up the hammer briefly before putting it back in the box.

“What? How did you know that?” you asked, your own eyes widening.

“Secret Santa is my thing,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t know why. I enjoy it, though, and I’m good at it.”

“Oh,” you said. “Well, yeah. I was your Secret Santa.”

“You did a good job,” he said.

“Not as good a job as my Secret Santa did,” you said, your hand subconsciously coming up to touch the large earrings you wore. “My Secret Santa was a champ this year.”

“I think you mean that literally,” Brock murmured, reaching to the table and picking up his Universal Championship from where it had been resting. It took a moment, but you suddenly connected the dots and your mouth fell open.

“Wait,” you said, “you were my Secret Santa?”

“Yeah,” Brock replied with a grin. “You were fun to shop for.”

“So...was that you who texted me with gift ideas? For yourself?” you asked.

“You were fun to shop for, but also really easy to shop for. I know that I’m hard to shop for, though, so I figured you’d appreciate a little guidance,” he said. He reached into the box and pulled out the mug full of snickers. “You obviously just used my ideas as a starting point and added some ideas of your own, which is what you were supposed to do.”

“So you bought me these earrings?” you asked softly, touching them again. “They’re beautiful, but - Brock, how much did you spend on these?”

“Not as much as I was willing to spend on you,” he replied with a smile. “Which reminds me, there’s one last part of your present. I’m glad you’re here so I can give it to you now.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised. “What is it?”

He smiled, reaching into the chest pocket of his suit and pulling out a small envelope. He held it out to you and you carefully took it, examining it for a moment before opening it up. Inside was a small Christmas card with a picture of Santa’s sleigh against the moon. You opened it up, and inside all it had was a poem.

roses are red, violets are blue, I’d like to go on a date with you.

Your eyes widened as you read the poem, and then you looked up at him. He was grinning, but there was something nervous in his eyes. Despite all the confidence and bravado, he was afraid you’d say no. You smiled up at him.

“Yes,” you said, your smile widening into a grin. “Yes, I’d love to go out with you.”

“Oh, thank god,” Brock breathed. “Do you want to grab dinner tonight? I know a place that’s open all night.”

“I’d love to,” you replied, still unable to believe it. What were the odds that you and Brock would get one anothers’ names, or that you’d both be interested in one another? As you left the arena with him, you were certain that you could hear jingle bells somewhere in the distance. It was a Christmas Miracle.

[vprgirl1887]

Tagging: @sophiagriff

Your first time being brought more water in the basement, you were prepared.

It had taken you and Lorraine most of the day to finish off the half-case of water that she had left. Later on in the day, though you weren’t exactly sure about the time since the windows were boarded up, there came a hard knock at the door. A deep voice gruffly ordered you to lay face-down on the bed, so you both complied. After a moment, the locks began to click, and then the door opened.

You spared a peek. The tall, bulky man, who was wearing a black ski mask over his face, held his gun in his right hand and was moving it periodically back and forth between you and Lorraine. In his left hand, he had two large tupperware containers stacked. You could tell that the food was hot by the condensation on the inside - you couldn’t even see what was inside.

The man hardly even looked at you. He set the containers down and then eyed the empty case of water. “You sure drink a lot of water,” he grunted, using his left hand to grab the empty packaging.

“I’m recovering from a cold,” you said, looking away so you’d sound muffled. There was a pause, and then the man grunted again before turning around. You looked back and you watched him leave.

“So,” Lorraine said, “he can’t carry two plates at once, so he brought them in tupperware.”

“He was moving the gun back and forth between us,” Angel said in a soft voice. 

“Let’s move the mattresses a bit further apart,” said Lorraine, smirking. “We’ll see if he notices when he brings back the water - and we’ll see how he plans on carrying the water and his gun at the same time.”

The girls carefully move the mattresses, putting a bit more space between them than there had been before. “I’m surprised he’s still bothering with a ski mask,” Angel mused. “That probably means he’s afraid of us escaping and being able to identify him.”

“We probably can’t use that to our advantage,” Lorraine said. “If anything, that means we have to be more careful. If he wasn’t wearing the ski mask, I’d say he was feeling confident and probably cocky. That’d mean his guard was down a bit.”

“I think the tricky part is not knowing what we’re going to find once we go through the door,” Angel said. “I mean, we don’t know the layout of this house - what if it’s, like, a mansion? I live in a mansion in the country, and I guarantee you that if someone locked me in the basement and I didn’t know the house, I’d get lost just trying to get out - and then, on top of that, it’s in the middle of nowhere, so even if I got out of the house, I wouldn’t know where to go for help.”

“Your life sounds insane,” Lorraine said, shaking her head. “You live in a mansion with a UFC fighter who takes care of you since you lost your memory.”

“Basically,” Angel said softly. “I’d give anything for a normal life, though - something like yours, where you’ve got a family who loves you, you’re in school studying to do something great - I couldn’t even go to school if I wanted to, since I don’t have an identity.”

“Believe me, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows,” Lorraine replied with a shake of her head. “My parents love me, but they still think that my being gay is just a phase. They’re nice to girls I bring home, but they’re always convinced that they’re just temporary flings and that eventually I’ll meet a nice boy and settle down.”

“That sucks,” Angel said, shaking her head. 

“It’s part of the reason I broke up with my last girlfriend,” Lorraine said. “She felt like my parents resented her for not being a boy, and since I’m so close to them, she said that she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life feeling that way. I mean, there were other things, too, but that was part of it.”

“Oh, Lorraine, I’m sorry to hear that,” Angel said, reaching over and putting her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “We’re going to break out of here and we’re going to find you a nice girl.”

Lorraine laughed softly. “That sounds ideal,” she said. “Let’s focus on getting out of here first, though. 

As if on queue, a knock sounded at the door. Lorraine bit her lip and exchanged a glance with angel as the male voice outside commanded them once again to lie face-down on the beds. They did as he asked, and after a moment, the door opened again.

They peeked, and much to their joy, they saw that he was, in fact, carrying the case of water with both hands. His gun was in his belt, and when he set the water down, the first thing he did was pull his gun out. He backed out of the room, keeping it trained on them. 

“We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon,” he said in a low voice.

“Leaving?” asked Lorraine, almost sitting up before the gun pointed in her direction reminded her to stay still.

“Yes,” he said. “You’ll follow my directions if you want to stay alive. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” said Lorraine.

“Yes,” Angel chimed in softly. The man closed the door and left, and after a few minutes, the girls sat up.

“So,” Lorraine said in a low voice, “that puts a damper in our plans.”

“It does,” Angel agreed. “We’ll figure this out, though.”

“We will,” Lorraine agreed. “They say that most criminals escape while they’re being transferred, so if we play our cards right, we should be able to make this move work in our favour.”

“Let’s hope so,” Angel replied softly, smiling over at her new friend. “Let’s get some sleep. We’ll need our energy for whatever happens tomorrow.”

[vprgirl1887]

Tagging: @sophiagriff

Your first time being stuck in a box was not something you had ever anticipated experiencing.

It was squished and uncomfortable. Luckily, you and Lorraine had become comfortable enough with one another that lying down in a box together wasn’t weird. It was dark, and it was quickly becoming uncomfortably warm inside the box.

Neither of you could talk because of the duct tape covering your mouths. You were beginning to suspect that there was no getting out of this. Wherever he was taking you, you’d be stuck there. You’d never see Brock again. You were closing your eyes, figuring you might as well try to get some sleep before finding out what fresh hell awaited you once you were taken out of the box, but then you heard a familiar voice outside the box.

“Hey there, neighbour, what’ve you got there?”

Brock?

The police had said not to engage Thrane. They’d said to simply observe and report, but the moment Brock saw the large chest that the man was heaving out of the house, he knew that Angel had to be inside it.

The chairs and wooden table had looked inconspicuous enough to begin with. Brock had even started questioning whether they had the right guy or whether this was genuinely a woodworking sale and they’d wasted valuable time that could have been spent looking for Angel. The chest, though, had to be the answer.

“Hey there, neighbour,” Brock said as he approached the van. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t at least try to get her back. “What’ve you got there?”

“Howdy,” Thrane responded, eyeing Brock suspiciously. “Woodworking delivery. Custom order - I can give you my card, if you’re interested in something for yourself.”

“I might just take you up on that,” Brock replied. “Looks heavy. How about a hand getting it up into the van?”

Thrane hesitated a moment, but then nodded. “Sure thing,” he said. “It’s verawood, so pretty heavy but definitely beautiful.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that,” Brock said with a forced chuckle. “I don’t know much about woodworking myself.” He grabbed one side of the chest, supporting it as carefully as he could. If Angel was inside, he didn’t want to risk dropping her and hurting her.

“You look more like the farming type, I’d say,” said Thrane as the two of them began to lift the heavy chest. It definitely felt heavier than just a weighty wood, and Brock was almost certain now that Angel was in the chest.

“Good guess,” Brock said with a grin. “I’m also the WWE Universal Champion, so, you know, there’s some professional wrestling in the mix.”

“WWE, eh?” asked Thrane as they set the chest down. He seemed to be relaxing a bit more - he seemed convinced that Brock just wanted to be friendly, and that was exactly what Brock wanted. “I used to watch some of that, back when it was WWF - Andre the Giant, the Rock, you know.”

“I hear a lot of that,” Brock said with a nod. “I fought the Rock back in 2002, you know. Beat him for the title.”

“No shit?” Thrane said, his eyes widening. “That’s awesome, man. Hey, so, uh, did you want that card? I’m kind of on a tight schedule here.”

“Sure, of course,” Brock replied. “Hey, mind if I take a peek at the inside?” he added as Thrane started to reach for his wallet.

“No!” Thrane said quickly. “Uh, it’s not finished. Customers wanted to get it lined themselves with something custom of theirs - looks like garbage, I’d really rather-”

“Let me just take a peek,” Brock said, and before Thrane could do anything, he rapidly grabbed the lid and flung it open. Sure enough, just as he’d expected, Angel was stuffed inside, handcuffed with her mouth taped shut alongside another girl. His eyes widened. “Angel!” he said, but before he could make another move, there came a deafening ‘bang!’ sound from Thrane’s direction and a sudden shooting pain in Brock’s right arm.

The smaller man, who had the advantage now only because Brock had just been shot and shock was setting in, stepped forward and shoved Brock forcefully off the back of the van. Brock fell backwards, and that was the last thing he remembered before hitting his head off the concrete and blacking out.

[vprgirl1887]

Tagging: @sophiagriff

Your first kidnapper kept his face hidden from you. He was roughly the same height as Brock, and though he definitely had big muscles beneath his t-shirt, he was nowhere near as bulky as Brock was. He had brown eyes that watched you and Lorraine closely from beneath his ski mask, and he had light skin.

There was a tattoo on his wrist. It had taken you a couple of peeks to figure out what it was, but you’d decided that it was a scorpion. Or a lobster, but you weren’t sure who would get a tattoo of a lobster. 

He had a deep, gruff voice. He definitely sounded scary, and he looked it too. The biggest problem - aside from being held hostage in a basement - was that you didn’t know what he wanted. Lorraine didn’t, either. He’d been holding her hostage for three months now, and you for a day, and yet neither of you had any idea why.

“Officer Moreau,” asked one of the older officers in the room, “could you explain to me why, exactly, this man is here?” Brock glared at the older officer, but he knew that Moreau could handle it.

“Well, Mr. Lesnar here is the guardian of the new missing girl, Angel,” Officer Moreau replied. “Quite frankly, he’s very powerful, he has a lot of money, and he could best any of us in a fight. We’d be stupid not to let him assist us where possible. Also, he insisted.”

“Let’s focus on the task at hand,” said another officer, whose name Brock seemed to recall overhearing as Officer Ross. Ross was in charge of the case of that missing girl, Lorraine, whose family had initially contacted Moreau about Angel. “So our primary suspect is obviously Arnold Thrane.”

“Who’s Arnold Thrane?” Brock asked. Ross and Moreau exchanged a look.

“Thrane moved here from Toronto almost a year ago,” Moreau said. “He had just recently finished a prison sentence - a much shorter one than he should have had, if I daresay - for involvement in human trafficking.”

“He got a shorter sentence because he cooperated with the investigators,” Ross chimed in. “He gave them names - lots of names - and helped them find lots of the missing girls. He also testified against the others who worked with him.”

“We’ve been keeping an eye on Thrane, but we haven’t noticed anything abnormal,” Moreau continued.

“To be fair, anyone in the human trafficking business would be stupid to work with Thrane after what went down in Toronto,” chimed in another, younger officer. “Thrane is known to law enforcement, and if he got caught, he’d sell you in an instant.”

“Unless the person didn’t know his history or was willing to take that chance,” Ross replied. “After Lorraine Bourgeois went missing, Thrane was the first person we turned to, but he had no information.”

“We questioned him quite vigorously,” Moreau added. “He insisted that he knew nothing, though, so we had to let him go. We’ve been keeping track of his communications, and he’s had a lot of messages about ‘cargo’ with a couple just outside of Calgary. Naturally, we were suspicious about that, but he claims that he’s taken up woodworking - even showed us a few pieces.”

“Obviously, we didn’t have enough for a warrant, but most of us have been pretty certain that he’s got Lorraine somewhere,” Ross added.

“What does any of this have to do with Angel?” Brock asked, frowning. “Do you think he has Angel, too?”

“Angel and Lorraine are similar in appearance,” Moreau said. “We doubt it’s a coincidence. On top of that, Thrane rented out a van from a relatively sketchy source today - he’s picking it up around lunchtime, and then he’s arranged to go to the couple in Calgary with it.”

“We can arrange to intercept the van,” Ross said. “If we have a stop set up outside of the city that everyone has to go through, it won’t look like we’re targeting him and he won’t be able to circumvent it.”

“Plus we could have officers a short way back, just in case he decides to turn around when he realizes we’re there,” chimed in another officer in the room. “You know, someone to follow him while we figure out something else.”

“What if I follow the van with my truck?” Brock asked suddenly. “I could wait outside the rental place and, you know, subtly follow him home.”

“A truck’s more inconspicuous than an unmarked cruiser,” agreed Moreau. “I can get you a radio so you can communicate with us. If you can see what he’s loading into the truck then that’ll be even better. He probably won’t load the girls in there if there’s a cruiser nearby, even if it’s unmarked - he knows what to look for - so you’d be our best bet for that.”

“Remind me again why he’s allowed to be part of this?” asked the older officer who’d first objected to Brock being here.

“He has a lot of money and power,” Moreau said, frowning as he looked at the other officer. “We don’t really have much say here. This sounds like a good plan - set up a stop along the route he’ll have to take to get to Calgary, and have Mr. Lesnar follow along in his truck.”

“Agreed,” said Ross with a nod. “Let’s see if we can get our girls back.”

[vprgirl1887]

Tagging: @sophiagriff

Your first experience with absolute terror came when you woke up in the basement.

You were lying on a lumpy mattress in the dark. You groaned as you came to, and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust. They finally did, though, and you could faintly make out the appearance of a room. It was mostly empty. There was a darkened window, a table with what looked to be a lamp on it, two doors side-by-side, and a second mattress. 

You could make out a figure lying on the mattress, and just as you were about to start panicking, the figure began to move.

“You’re awake?” asked a soft female voice. The figure reached for the table and pulled the cord on the lamp, illuminating the room. The window, you now saw, was boarded and barred, and there were three locks on one of the doors. The girl sitting on the mattress was around your age, with long brown hair and nervous blue eyes. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here too,” she told you gently. “My name’s Lorraine.”

Brock was growing impatient. It had been several hours since Angel had left to go for her walk. He knew that she was upset, of course, but he was beginning to worry. For several hours now, he’d been sitting and waiting in the coffee shop, but he was starting to think that it was time to go looking for her.

He left his truck in the coffee shop parking lot, figuring that if she was on her way here and he somehow missed her between the shop and the park, she would at least know to wait at the truck for him.

He walked to the park, knowing exactly which one she’d been talking about when she’d mentioned seeing it a few blocks back. It was a relatively large park, taking up roughly the size of a city block, and there were a few paths running from one end to the other. There were benches, trees, and a large, decorative stone structure in the middle. There wasn’t, however, an Angel.

His concern was growing. Brock retraced his steps back to the ice cream parlour and headed inside.

“I was in here a few hours ago with a girl, have you seen her?” he asked the employee. It was definitely the girl who had served him and Angel, but she shook her head.

“No, I haven’t,” she replied. “Sorry.”

Brock grumbled to himself and headed back outside. Too many people had walked along the sidewalk for him to spot her footprints, so he walked back to the park. There weren’t quite as many sets of footprints there, though he still couldn’t figure out which ones were Angel’s.

Brock pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number of the officer in charge of Angel’s case. Officer Moreau was the one who had called Angel the other day, and was the one who’d been keeping an eye out for missing people who might be Angel. He was definitely going to want to know that Angel had gone missing.

“This is Moreau,” said the voice of the officer on the other end as he answered.

“Hello, Officer, this is Brock Lesnar,” Brock said, sitting down on a nearby park bench. There were hundreds of tiny bird footprints in the snow in front of him - probably pigeons, he figured.

“Mr. Lesnar, how can I help you? Did Angel meet up with that family?”

“She did, and they weren’t the ones,” Brock replied.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“So was she.” Brock paused a moment. “I took her out for ice cream and then she wanted to go for a walk in Victoria Park, so she went off and I haven’t seen or heard from her since.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Almost five hours now,” Brock replied. “I waited for her at Tim’s for maybe four hours, and when she never showed up I decided to go looking for her. She’s nowhere between Tim’s and the park, and I even checked in back at the ice cream place in case she’d gone back in there.”

“Shit,” Officer Moreau muttered. “Where are you now?”

“At the park,” Brock replied. 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Keep an eye out for her. She knew to meet you at Tim’s, right?”

“Yep,” Brock said. “I left my truck there in case she made her way there.”

“Why don’t you head back over there and I’ll meet you there? Just in case she’s made it back to the truck somehow. If not, we can grab coffees and walk to the park to start figuring this out.”

“Sure,” Brock replied. “I’ll see you there.” He hung up, and he could feel a pit at the bottom of his stomach. Angel was his responsibility while they tried to find her family. He was supposed to take care of her and keep her safe, and he’d failed.