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ofstoriesandstardust · 5 months ago

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part i. - the after (j.r.)

a/n: well folks, she's finally here. this is the very first part of my new top gun maverick x twisters crossover series, all of my life it's been heartbreak weather (series playlist here). i'm so very very excited to have this out but i'm also intimidated by all that's to come (aka what did i get myself into). please note that this series does discuss past self-harm/suicide attempts. please be a conscious reader; if that's something that will upset you, please don't read. other than that, i hope you enjoy! remember that comments and reblog keep me fed and watered. :)

summary: After El Reno, Javi starts to wonder where his place in the world is if not with StormPar. Despite Kate's insistence he ride out the rest of the season with the Wranglers, he can't shake the feeling that he's unwanted. Fueled by his own fear, he makes the executive decision to spend some time out in San Diego with his cousin Mickey. He knows he's running, but he doesn't realize he's running right home to you.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, first kiss, food mentions, addy lives but at the cost of her leg, past/references self harm and suicide attempts, other normal twisters warnings, past scott/javi

wc: 10.8k

“You sure you won’t stay?”

There’s Kate again, with that pleading look in her eye as she crosses her arms. The same one that she had given him when she asked him to stay before El Reno.

He almost had then too, but he remembered the way Tyler had looked at him on the front porch, the way he had followed Kate out there with such ease it had been like he’d always belonged. He feels it now too, when his eyes flicker over Kate’s shoulder to the Wranglers all scattered around Cathy’s porch as they pretend not to watch their conversation. It’s like they’ve always belonged there and it’s that knowledge that makes him shake his head.

This is Kate’s family. After all that she had lost, Kate deserved to have a family again. She belonged among them, what with the way they fit together like they had always been friends.

“I’m sorry Kate.” He rasps, feeling tears sting at his eyes.

“Javi, I- I can’t do this without you.”

And there it is, his own words reflected back at him.

He can’t understand why though. She didn’t need him, didn’t need him getting in their way. He was a liability. He was a screw-up and she didn’t need him sticking around in a place that was never his to start with.

“C’mon Kate, you know that ain’t true.” He says as he turns, opening the door of his Mike’s truck to throw his duffel bag in.

“Javi, I’m serious. I talked to Addy last night-”

“Don’t go there.” He says firmly, slamming the door shut harder than he intends to as Kate flinches. “Don’t bring Addy into this.”

His own guilt, his own fear. The memories of ignoring Addy’s phone calls for so long and the knowledge that she’d be so angry with him for starting this venture without her by his side.

Kate bites her lip. “Where will you go?”

He sticks his hands in his pockets, sighing. “I’m going to Mickey’s. He’s stationed out in San Diego right now; they’ve got an extra room in their house they’re letting me rent for the next bit while I figure out all this StormPar shit.” Kate’s eyes are red-rimmed, fingernails digging into her arms.

She’s holding herself back, he can tell. He can tell there’s so much she wants to say to him that she’s choosing to keep inside. He almost wishes she would say anything, lose her cool, yell at him, tell him what a stupid decision this is, tell him how angry she is at him for leaving, beg him to stay.

Be the same storm and force that he knows and loves her for being.

But she doesn’t say anything at all, just chewing on her lip.

Mike rolls down the window, shouting at him that they better get a move on if they want to make his flight. He waves him off, stepping closer to Kate as the window rolls back up. He sighs, before letting his hands fall onto her shoulders.

“Tell you what. Give me the next few months and the off season to get my shit together, get all my legal crap with StormPar solved. And at the start of the new year, we can revisit. See if doing this together is still what you want.”

It’s not quite a promise but he knows it would be worse to make her a promise he can’t keep.

Kate may not understand and he may not know how to tell her but he needs this.

He needs to take a step back. He needs a minute, a moment to breathe. He can’t go back to that place, that dark crawl space of a life he lived in after Jeb and Praveen died, after Addy lost her leg, after Kate disappeared to New York and they stopped speaking to each other, the one that squeezed him so tight it nearly squeezed the life from his lungs.

Kate nods before reaching up to give him a hug. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he returns the hug.

“I’m sorry Kate.” He breathes out. “Tell Addy hi for me, okay?”

He doesn’t know why he’s nervous as he follows Mickey into the warm beach house. It’s small, quaint, walls emanating years of love. He’s only been in San Diego a day and a half at this point, but Mickey was adamant he introduced him to his second family as soon as possible.

Mickey’s friends cheer at the sight of them and the grin Mickey returns to them is blinding. Mick slings an arm around his shoulder, jostling him as he introduces him to the team.

He’s known Reuben for years, ever since Mickey’s graduation from the Academy, and Natasha and Bradley have been friendly faces to him over the years, often stationed with Mickey.

Jake’s new but in a way, he’s got a striking resemblance to Tyler, the same ego and attitude to match. Javy ribs him about being name twins and he knows they’ll be good friends.

Pete, Mickey’s commander, is kind, soulful. His face is lined with years of love and he knows from the very first minute that he cares very deeply about his team in a way he had never experienced with any of his own commanding officers. Pete says he’s regretful his husband isn’t there but that he’ll be back from Florida next week and Tom has already insisted they come back for dinner.

He’s halfway through his first beer and a bowl of chips, talking to Pete about his work with StormPar and how the radars worked, when he meets you for the first time.

Pete chuckles at the sight of you, popping an M&M into his mouth. “Morning sleeping beauty.” Pete nudges him. “This is my daughter.” He introduces you and he waves hesitantly, waggling his fingers at you. You run a hand down your face, groaning. “You work today?”

“Opened and then Sally called off so I had to stay overtime. Came home and crashed.”

“Hey, do you ever put on pants?” Jake heckles from the couch. You take a minute to look down at your pajama shorts and Niall Horan sweatshirt before you turn on your heel, a look that could kill shot at the blond.

“This is my house!” You snap back before huffing, turning back around for the fridge.

“What’s the story?” He asks Mickey quietly as Pete excuses himself, setting off after you to inquire about your plans for the evening.

“She’s Mav’s daughter. She came into his life like, two years ago I think? She comes from a pretty nasty background which is why Mav lets her live here. I dunno, they’ve got a strained relationship and she’s… a handful.”

Javi takes a minute to study you. You can’t be more than two or three years younger than him, probably almost the same age as Addy. You’re talking to Pete in a subdued voice as you rub sleep from your eyes, a couple of piercings hanging off from your ears. You’ve got a couple tattoos, one on your leg of a ribbon that looks oddly alike to Lilly’s stick and poke style. You’re not hard on the eyes either, even in your sleepy state. You’ve got an easy smile and kind eyes, a laughter that sounds like honey as you chuckle at Pete.

“You’ll like her though. She’s kind of closed off, got a lot of stuff she doesn’t talk to us about. But she’s sweet and I think the two of you are about to bond over food here pretty quickly.” Mickey adds as you announce that you’re changing and departing for In-N-Out.

Javi snorts as the group shouts things at you, wrinkling your nose as they do. You wave a hand, shouting at them all to just text you as you trot back off towards your bedroom.

“Yeah, I know. She’s your dream girl but you might want to close your mouth, you’re drooling.”

He snaps his mouth shut as he looks at Mickey. He’s smirking, eyes full of mirth. “I’m not, uh-” He clears his throat which only makes Mickey grin grow.

“Uh huh. Go with her.” He says as you reappear from your bedroom, pants on this time.

“No, I couldn’t-”

Mickey shakes his head. “No, no this is good because I need someone to babysit you and it was always going to be her.”

“Who am I babysitting?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. Mickey jerks his head over to him and he feels his cheeks warm under your scrutiny.

“I’m not babysitting your grown adult cousin.”

Mickey shrugs. “Think of it like, showing him all the sights. You wanted to be a tour guide; you love playing tour guide. I just want you to show him a good time before he starts work next week.”

The innuendo in his voice is apparent and you groan at Mickey. “I will be doing none of that.”

Mickey shrugs, muttering something about your loss, which only makes his cheeks grow warmer as he mentally thinks of all the ways he could kill his cousin for trying to play matchmaker.

You sigh again, studying him for a minute before you roll your eyes. You wave an arm at him, already setting off towards the front door. “C’mon.” You call. Mickey slaps his shoulder as he skids off the barstool he’s sitting on, dutifully following after you. You turn sharply once at the door, and he swallows at your look.

“I don’t know your name.”

“Javi.” He says softly and he watches the way you say the name softly, relishing the way it sounds coming off your tongue.

“Well Javi, it’s nice to meet you. Officially now.” You offer a hand out to him and he shakes it. “Do they have In-N-Out in out there in Kansas?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

He clears his throat. “I’m from Florida, actually. Miami. And uh, no we don’t. I’ve never had it before.”

Your face lights up as you yank on the front door. “Well then Javi-from-Florida-Miami-not-Kansas, I’m about to make sure you get the full experience.”

The full experience ends up being you eagerly telling the cashier he’s never been before, insisting he get (and wear) the infamous hat. You giggle over the pictures you force him to pose for, firing them off to Mickey as you do. You play with the sticker packets, hunched over and hair falling over your shoulder and into your eyes in a repeated motion that makes Javi resist the urge to reach across the plastic table and sweep your hair from your eyes. When they call out for your food, you eagerly shoot up from your seat to get the food, waving him off as you bring it back to the table.

Through dinner, you tell him about working as a barista, how Sally is one more no call no show away from getting fired and all the other gossip about people who he knows nothing about.

He hates to admit it, but Mickey is right. He’s taken a real shine to you as you talk, a smile never leaving your face.

He could fall hard for you, he knows in his heart of hearts. And it scares him shitless. He knows what happened the last time he loved a girl that much and all that it cost him. He knows he doesn’t know if he can go there and make it out the other side with you.

Especially when, back at the house, Mickey mentions seeing Kate on Tyler’s latest stream and around the brownie spatula you’re licking you say Tyler Owens can eat shit.

Still, it doesn’t stop him from being equal parts intrigued and enchanted by you. You’re as kind as you are funny, and in many ways you mind him so much of the Tamers. You’ve got Kate’s brain, Addy’s carefree laugh, Praveen’s cautious nature, Jeb’s soulful kindness.

He spends the first week hanging out with you around your barista shifts, going out for drinks, introducing him to Chili’s. One morning the two of you go to the beach and another afternoon the two of you sightsee at SeaPort Village and visit the USS Midway. You take him to Old Town to eat the best Mexican food you claim he’ll ever have and while it’ll never be his mama’s or abuelita’s, it’s a damn close second. That Sunday before he starts work, you and Mickey drag him down to the zoo, and he buys you a panda pin he sneaks onto your fanny pack later that night on the SkyTram.

And then he keeps spending his free time with you. He visits you on your opening shifts, which earns you some teasing remarks from your co-workers. He ends up at your house without Mickey on more than one occasion, playing Pokémon and MarioKart on your switch. You guys drive down to the beach, playing him all your favorite albums. He shares his music with you on the days he drives you to work or picks you up after you close.

Know any good hangover spots?

He rolls over on his bed as he rubs a hand down his face, looking at the clock. It’s nearing two and through his hangover, he can’t remember if you were supposed to work today.

He doesn’t forget Addy calling him last night though. He’d been at the bar with Mickey and some of their crew. You’d invited him to go to the movies with you but he knew he was getting in too deep with you. He was going to hurt you if the two of you kept going at the rate you were and he couldn’t bear to watch it happen when you saw him for who he really was.

In hindsight, he should’ve just gone with you. He’s sure that being with you would’ve taken away the sting of declining Addy’s call, a sting he had instead soothed with alcohol.

His phone chimes and for a minute he hesitates, wondering if it’s Kate or Addy.

It’s nearing the anniversary.

It’s two weeks away and he had ignored any outreach, including asking him if he wanted to be in Oklahoma with them for the first time in five years.

It’s you though.

I think I do. Up for a burrito? I’ve got a spot I’ve been wanting to introduce you to. I can come pick you up.

An hour later, the two of you are in a neighborhood you don’t normally stray into as you point out familiar landmarks to him.

He knows you haven’t lived with Pete forever and it dawns on him that this side of town must have been where you grew up as you pull into the tiny parking lot, leading him into the shop crammed between the 7-11 and Chinese place you claim used to be a Russian bakery your parents swore was a front for the mafia.

You lean over to him as you stand in the cool hole-in-the-wall shop, saying how much you love the breakfast burritos here. You’re up in his space, arms nearly wrapping around his own.

You’ve been doing that a lot more lately. You invade his personal space, entirely comfortable with him. You’ll lean against him in crowded spaces, whisper mocking remarks in his ear when Jake gets too big for his britches. You hug when you see him and when he leaves, and he swears you would’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder last week if Javy and Mickey hadn’t come back to their house when they did.

He finds that he doesn’t entirely hate it. He likes it in a way, the way you’re so comfortable with him.

He follows your lead, getting the breakfast burrito, and as the two of you sit down in the back corner of the place, laughing over your dislike for hot sauce, you mention how you have fond memories of your Dad bringing you here after early morning hikes during your childhood or hard days in high school.

“Dad?” He questions softly. “Not Pete?”

You shrug. “My mom’s ex-husband. I guess not my Dad in blood but my Dad in the way that it mattered.”

“Do you guys still talk?”

You shake your head. “Nah, we had a pretty strained relationship starting sometime during college and when it came out that he wasn’t actually my Dad, he cut all contact.”

He blows out a breath, thinking of his own parents. His Dad has been gone since he was a toddler, couldn’t remember the dead beat even if he tried, but he couldn’t imagine not getting to talk to his mama.

“You still keep in touch with your Mom?”

You shake your head again. “Nah, my Mom and I had a pretty nasty falling out about two years back now. I was never meant to be nor did I ever plan on being in Pete’s life but I needed somewhere to stay and given the circumstances and the fact that I think Pete felt pretty guilty he hadn’t been in my life given how I grew up, he and Tom uh- couldn’t really say no.”

He nods, taking another bite of his burrito as he contemplates asking the question that’s been burning in the back of his mind since that very first night he’d met you.

“Can I ask something else?” You hum, nodding. “That first night we met- you made a comment about Tyler Owens. You uh, you know him? Or is it just like a general dislike?”

You lick the tip of your thumb as some guacamole escapes your burrito. “In the short of it, I worked for the Wranglers last season.” You hum at his wide eyes. “Yeah, Tyler and I had a pretty big falling out after the last chase of the season. He made it very clear I wasn’t welcome back.” You say it with a shrug in a very that’s that way but based on the bitterness seeping through your tone, it isn’t just all that.

“So- how’d you even get a job with them?”

“I bought a house in Oklahoma and needed something to do-”

He cuts you off, holding his hands up in a timeout motion. “You bought a house in Oklahoma?”

You huff out a laugh. “I sort of- for lack of a better term, had a nervous breakdown my first semester of grad school when I had my falling out with my mom. I dropped out halfway through the term and moved in with Pete. I’ve always been shopping for real estate on the side, you know, just for shits and giggles. Always used to run around saying girls didn’t want husbands, they wanted to buy property. Anyways, I fell in love with this house out in Claremore and uh, turns out when I was born, Pete had set up this trust I was supposed to get once he died. I don’t think he ever expected to live this long, so it’s accumulated one helluva chunk of money and interest through the years. And he and I talked about it, and decided to use the money as the down payment. A friend of mine I met through storm chasing is staying there right now, cause she needed a place to stay and she offered to cover all the expenses. Utilities and whatnot.”

“You miss it? Oklahoma?”

You shake your hand in a so-so motion. “Anyways, I don't quite know how it all happened, Tyler needed someone to run their Tiktok and Instagram because Boone refuses to learn it and it’s a whole audience they’re missing out on. So Tyler brought me on to run the other social medias Boone didn’t want to.” He nods, buzzing with all the information he just got from you.

A house in Claremore?

You had storm chasing experience?

Would you ever go back?

“Okay, my turn. You got to ask stuff about me, so now I get to ask stuff about you.” He nods his head, resting his arm against the back of the chair next to him as he pops the last bite of burrito in his mouth. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker over his bicep. “How in the hell did you go from Florida to storm chasing in Tornado Alley to San Diego?”

“I went to UF for undergrad and uh, decided hurricanes just weren’t cool enough to me. Wanted to study tornadoes and figured there was no better place than the heart of Tornado Alley herself, so I went to Muskogee and got my Masters. Then I joined the Army-” Your eyes grow wide. “And uh, after four years, my contract was up and I took my tech and started StormPar. But we had some pretty unethical investors and my business partner turned out to be- well, honestly he probably was the whole time, a real dick so I took my tech and told them to go to hell.” He giggles a little bit at your sour look. “What?”

“Man, I fucking hate tornados.”

“That’s the part you’re focused on?”

Are you free today?

I really don’t want to be alone and Mickey has to work.

You frown at the message.

Yeah. Everything okay?

Javi types back almost immediately.

No. Up for a drive?

You roll to a stop in the gravel parking lot, turning the key in the ignition as you eye Javi.

“Do you want me to go with you?” You ask quietly.

He nods. “Please?” He rasps out quietly. You nod, slipping out of the car. He waits for you at the front of the car and you hesitate for a moment, before making a rash decision to take Javi’s hand in your own. He intertwines his fingers with your own as if it’s second nature to him, slowly weaving your way through the graveyard in Encinitas.

Slowly, you reach a stop, Javi standing in front of a marble stone. You squeeze his hand. “Let’s sit.” You whisper and he follows your lead, sitting down next to you. You move to let his hand go but his grip only tightens.

“You wanna talk about it?”

He sniffs, taking his free hand to wipe his nose. “This was Praveen. He uh, he was one of my room mates in grad school.” You scoot closer to Javi, resting your chin in his shoulder.

“Wanna tell me what happened?”

“We were uh, we were storm chasing this time five years ago. For our thesis project. I was in charge of the data, I stayed with the van. The rest of my team- Kate, Jeb, Addy, Praveen, they went out to drop these barrels in the tornados path. Kate and Praveen and Addy were testing to see if they could get this- this polyacrylate into the air- the shit they use in diapers Addy always used to say, to tame the tornado. But it- it didn’t fucking work. It was an EF-5, the worst a tornado can offer and it killed Jeb and Praveen. I- I was in the van, watching our sensors rise 70,000 feet in the air and shouting into a radio nobody would answer. Afterwards, I uh- I drove around looking for any one of them, just- I knew it was probably impossible but I uh- I found Addy.” He takes a shaky breath. “She was alive, thank God, but uh, shit she lost her leg. She got hit by some debris while they were trying to hide in an underpass. I mean, thank God I did find her when I did, she probably wouldn’t have lived if I hadn’t but there was- so much blood.”

“What about Kate?” You ask softly.

“Kate- Kate lived but she was never- never the same person. Shit, I don’t blame her. One of her best friends dead, her boyfriend dead, another one of her best friends permanently disabled-” He breaks off, voice watery as he gives a shrug. “They were my room mates you know? We met on Craigslist of all places. We were three out-of-state- Jeb’s from Indiana, Praveen from here, out-of-state broke as fuck grad students needing somewhere to live. It could’ve ended so poorly but man I fucking loved those guys. They- they were-” He shakes his head. “We lived in this shithole apartment, the heat never worked, we had fucking roaches, a leaky kitchen sink pipe and the first time I went back to the apartment after it happened, all I could think about was how quiet our place was.”

Your heart sinks at the thought of him going back to a house filled with ghosts, probably still covered in the blood of his friends.

“Javi, I’m so sorry.” You say softly. “That sounds… unimaginable.”

“I miss ‘em so fucking much, you know? I’d give anything to have them back, even just for one more day.”

You rub a hand up and down Javi’s arm as you let his hand go, him reaching up to wipe away his tears.

“Shit, I’m such a bad friend, I should’ve brought like, fucking flowers or something.”

You hum. “Well, there’s a Trader Joe’s like ten minutes from here, we can go get some and come back. Or I can go and get some for you.”

“Can you go?” He croaks. “I would go but-” He gestures to himself. You bite back a snort, nodding as you understand what he means.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?” He nods and you let his arm go after squeezing it, standing up before you turn back for the car.

Once inside, you let out a breath as you wrap your hands around the steering wheel.

It hurt your heart to see Javi so upset, to see him work through so much grief.

You’d come to know Javi so well and had found him to be such a bright person, so charming and funny, kind and understanding, and it hurt to hear all that he had gone through before he had come into your life.

The most you could do at this point was be here for him however he wanted you to be here for him and see him through this day. And that started with these damn flowers.

You stood in the AC of the Trader Joe’s for far too long, unsure of what Javi would want or what his friend Praveen would’ve liked. Eventually though, you make your way back to the gravesite, instantly wishing you had taken even longer.

“-fuck Praveen, it got so bad. Kate and Addy would’ve been so disappointed to see me like that, to know I tried to- I think. And you know, Mickey is the one who found me, wrist slit open, blood running down my arms and I-”

You softly gasp, fingers unconsciously tightening on the cellophane of the flowers as his words sink in for you.

And to your horror, Javi turns around.

Javi turns as you shift on your feet.

It’s with a sinking heart that he realizes you have a fearful look in your eye and he wonders painfully if you’re afraid of him.

You swallow, taking a step closer to him as you hand him the flowers. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I can go wait in the car.” You offer softly.

“Are you scared of me?” He asks softly. Your eyes go wide as you startle.

“Scared of you? No.” You say quickly, shaking your head. You sigh, falling to the ground next to him as you take his arm again. He sets the flowers on the ground, half-turning his body towards you. “No, I just- didn’t mean to overhear that. It sounded private. Like… you wouldn’t have said it if you had known I was there. You said it because you thought you were alone.”

He studies you for a minute and you let him. There’s nervousness in your eye, but more so, there’s no pity held there that people usually look at him with once they hear about what happened, about what he did. Instead, there’s something akin to understanding as you look at him. You sigh.

“Javi, you gotta know that you experienced a truly traumatic loss. And it- this doesn’t define you. Shit happens okay, and it- sometimes our brain is our own worst fucking enemy, it goes against everything we know, everything we hold dear to ourselves, and sometimes it convinces us of the worst fucking shit. Makes us do the worst fucking shit to others, to ourselves. But Javi,”

Your fingers slide over the shallow scar on his right arm and his breath hitches.

He was usually so good about covering it up, first with sleeves, jackets were his best friend during early season as he learned how to be around the StormPar team, and then switching out various watches. He’d gone to great lengths to even make sure Kate wouldn’t see.

And he’d gotten a bit careless being in San Diego, under the constant sun, none of Mickey’s friends having said a damn word, but he was always careful around you.

Never too fast, never too much, not wanting to lose you. Your friendship.

But in his grief he’d forgotten all about it.

And of course you’d clocked it.

The only person who’d ever seen it, really seen it, had been Scott, the unspeakable thing between them. He hadn’t even let his Mom or Mickey bring it up, too ashamed in the aftermath.

But the way you were touching him now, gentle and soothing, didn’t make the scar burn like it usually did.

It felt… better. Healing, somehow.

So he lets you keep touching it, thumb running gently up and down the length of it as you keep talking.

“This doesn’t define you. It’s a part of you, it will always be a part of you. It’s a huge part, but it’s not what makes you you.”

You swallow, looking down. “I don’t want this to come off as if I’m making it about me, because I’m not. I just want you to know that I understand. What it feels like to feel that way.” He gives you a short nod as he meets your shiny eyes and you look away, giving a wet chuckle. “I grew up in an abusive household. Mom was an alcoholic, Dad was just… an all around piece of shit. We grew up piss ass poor.” You say, shaking your head. “I really struggled. I couldn’t make friends in school growing up because other parents didn’t want their kids around my parents and when I got older, I was the weird girl with the home life no one else could relate to. Those who could relate to it weren’t… the best influences. And um, when I was 15, all the mental turmoil that had built up, sort of peaked. I came so close to… just ending all of it.” You don’t let him go, even as he reaches over to brush a stray tear from your face. “I didn’t… actually do anything. I didn’t have the courage to take that final step and when I woke up the next morning I was horrified. And embarrassed, I think. I never came that close to anything again but sometimes… the thoughts come back up.”

“How do you get past it?” He rasps.

You scuff the toe of your shoe into the grass. “I don’t know that I’d say I’m the example, my college therapist was pretty concerned I might do something for a while there and I probably should’ve been medicated but I- I don’t know. I have to remind myself that it does get better. That maybe I don’t always see it, but there are people who’d give a damn if something happened to me, that it wouldn’t be this sigh of relief to them that I think it would. And I try to give those past versions of myself grace because really she was doing the best with what she knew.” You give him a sad smile. “Have grace with yourself Javi. Past you was just doing the best he could.”

“I don’t want to pry, because it’s not my place.”

He gives you a non-committal hum as you unlock the car door.

The two of you had sat for hours in that graveyard as Javi recounted his favorite memories of Praveen, of their time, however short together, when Praveen’s older brother had shown up and in his surprise at seeing Javi, had invited him to dinner with his mother.

You’d initially offered to just drop Javi off at the restaurant, that you’d come back when he was done, but he looked so torn up about the thought of you leaving and Praveen’s brother had been so insistent that a friend of Javi’s was a friend of their families and should join them for dinner, that you ended up agreeing.

On the drive over is when Javi starts to clue you in more on the larger picture of the last five years, of the true fallout from the tornado.

Addy’s parents had never forgiven Kate, so much so that they had tried to get Addy to take a restraining order out against Kate. The courts had denied it, outright, and the judge had apparently exchanged such words over the stupidity of the order request with Addy’s lawyer, because Addy had been a legal adult, participating in the same university-sanctioned research that Kate had, accepted by the the same PhD program that Kate had, that Addy’s family hadn’t tried again.

Jeb’s parents had been so enraged with Kate that they refused to even tell her where Jeb was buried. Kate didn’t even get to go to the funeral, which was right around the time she stopped answering Javi’s calls and Javi stopped trying.

Praveen’s family had been the kindest in the aftermath.

Praveen’s Mom had found Javi’s on FaceBook six months after Praveen’s death, because she knew Javi’s birthday was coming up and wanted to send him a card. Praveen still had the date marked in his calendar in his childhood bedroom.

Their families had stayed in touch over the years, even if they hadn’t with anybody else’s, and Javi tells you he suspects it has little to do with any kind of effort Praveen’s mother had made.

Praveen’s mother, a kind woman named Delia, welcomes Javi to the table with open arms and a tight hug for you. She apologizes for the absence of Praveen’s sister, finishing her residency at John Hopkins in Maryland.

Throughout the dinner, it’s clear to you how in the aftermath, Praveen’s mother had found more forgiveness for Kate and what had happened then the others did.

Praveen’s Dad had died when he was in high school, a victim of a freak drive-by shooting. What should’ve been a hardship only made Praveen more encouraged to pursue his dreams, eventually landing an acceptance to UCLA with a full ride. But you can’t study tornados in Southern California, leading Praveen to Muskogee and the Tamers.

Praveen had loved what he was doing, every second of it, even when it had put him in harm’s way. He always spoke of how much he loved his friends, of this dream they were building. He spent every minute home with his mother wishing he was home in Oklahoma.

That’s how she had found peace and solace in the loss of her youngest son. Praveen had died doing what he loved with the people he loved. How could she ever be angry?

Javi squeezes your hand before breaking apart to round the front. “You were saying?”

You click your tongue. “Yeah. I guess, you don’t have to explain the how, I guess, but are you, are you doing better?”

You realize the question makes no sense as you ask it yet Javi understands as he waits for you to climb in, starting the car.

“What if I did want to talk about it? With you? The how, I mean.”

“If you want to, then I would listen.”

Javi takes a breath. “I‘ll spare you the details, but Mickey was the one who found me. Had to call 9-1-1 and since I had to- you know, spend a couple nights in the psych ward, they notified my CO and I was discharged.”

“So… leaving the Army was never really your choice then?”

He shakes his head. “No, but Scott had already been on his way out. His contract was up and he wanted to be gone. My only friend- my-” He stops himself and you can tell there’s more to the story. “My best friend, leaving the Army, sort of-”

“Played into all of it?”

“Yeah.” He breathes.

“But you are doing better now?”

He shifts in his seat. “It’ll never be that bad again, and I- uh I’m on some good medications, much as I hate to admit that. But days like this are just… hard. I don’t like being alone. And Mickey and my Mom and Scott are the only ones who know about what I did so it just- makes it harder I think. Not to talk about it, like it didn’t happen.” He takes a shaky breath. “Scott is actually the- the one who tipped my Mom off that something might be happening. I had- had texted him that I loved him and I was sorry. And when I stopped answering he called my Mom. She was out-of-state, out in Arizona for a funeral, and she called Mickey to come check on me since he had been on leave that week.” He swallows hard. “Scott loved me enough to the point of risking losing me, just so- just so I could live. As terrible as he turned out to be, I still miss that part of him.”

“I understand.” You say softly. “I had to call for a friend of mine during college. I was living out of state at the time, and she never forgave me. But she’s still here, and she got to graduate from college and get engaged to her high school sweetheart and she might be angry at me forever, but you love someone enough to be okay with losing them, just to see them live.”

The half hour drive back to San Diego is quiet, the stereo playing your music softly. You don’t see it, but Javi starts to build a playlist from your choices, reveling in the comforting nature of this moment right here.

Finally, you pull into his driveway of the house he shares with Mickey and Javy, tires crunching on the concrete. You watch him get out, bidding you a goodnight and walk towards the front door.

“Javi!” You call, barely remembering to turn the car off as you open the door. He turns as you jog up the driveway after him.

And before you can think too far into it, you hug him. He startles, but he wraps his arms around you and you sigh, fisting your hands in his jacket.

“I’m really glad you decided to stay and I’m really glad that I got to meet you. You- you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met, and I’m thankful you’re in my life. I’m sorry all that terrible shit happened to you, cause- cause you never deserved that. And I just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

You let him go and his arms slowly follow, letting you move back as you look up at him. You can’t read the look on his face, so you clear your throat.

“Anyways, um, have a good night Javi.” You say quietly, giving him a small wave.

“Night.”

He’s in the house by the time you start the car again and you sighed to yourself.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Javi’s heart was with Kate and Addy and the research he left behind in Tornado Alley. And it was gonna hurt like hell when he left to finish what he started.

“So, you ever gonna ask her out on a date?”

He startles up, fumbling his phone as Pete gives him a cheshire grin.

“I’m- Um-” He stammers, eyes darting around the living room. Pete pats him on the back, before walking away, chuckling as he does.

“C’mon, you’re out with her, what, four, five nights of the week? At least? Not counting how many hours you spend over here. Just pull damn the trigger already Rivera.”

“We’re just- we’re just friends.” He says, feeling a flush creep up his neck the longer your Dad stares at him.

“You convince yourself with that lie?”

He licks his lips, not expecting to be called out so directly. “She’s better than what I deserve.” He admits shyly, the flush only crawling farther, starting to feel more like flames as Pete softens.

“You’re a good kid. I trust you with her.”

He runs a hand over his face. “I’ve got a lot of baggage.”

“So does she.” Pete heaves a sigh, crossing his arms. “We’ve all got something, kid. But that doesn’t mean you’re any less deserving. Only took Tom about twenty years and a couple of near death experiences to beat that into my skull.” Pete raps his knuckles against his head, eyes flickering to your bedroom door, where you’re changing out of your work clothes after showering. “I’m not blind and contrary to my daughter’s belief I don’t know her at all, I know her pretty well. She is half me, after all.” Pete swallows around the last little bit, defeat sinking into his stature at his acknowledgment at just how tense his relationship with you was. “I know how she looks at you. The same way Nick and Carole tell me I always looked at Tom.”

“How- how did you look at him?” He asks.

Pete smiles softly as they both hear the sound of your bedroom door open.

“Like he was home.”

He should nudge you, tell you the movie’s over, and excuse himself.

He should get out of your house, the early hour it’s nearing, knowing it’s closer to the time Pete wakes up for work in the morning than when he and Tom went to bed. Pete had put a lot of trust in him after all.

But you’re so comfortable with him, breathing slowly, and it’s the most peaceful he thinks he’s ever seen you.

For once, your brain isn’t going a million miles a minute, moving as fast at the planes Pete flies.

And he can’t deny that his own bone-deep exhaustion is hitting him, dragging him further into sleep alongside you. Can’t resist the peace that settles over him.

In the morning, he’ll wake to a text from Pete, an image of the two of you curled up together on the couch and a message that says: Here’s what I’d tell my pilots - don’t think, just do.

He’ll watch you from across the kitchen as you putter around, smiling softly at him, sheepish about falling asleep on his shoulder the night before.

He’ll tell you it’s the best night of sleep he’s gotten in years and you’ll laugh it off, chucking a chunk of avocado at him, but he knows it’s true.

It’s the first time he sleeps through the night without nightmares since the day his friends never came back.

There’s a murmuring from outside of your bedroom door and you peer over your phone to catch a few shadows moving before Javi suddenly stumbles into your doorframe.

He waves someone, Mickey probably, off as he realizes you’re already looking at him. He straightens up, shuffling to lean against the doorframe as he offers you a nervous smile. “This is uh, a nice… calendar.” He trails off awkwardly, playing with the edges of the paper hanging on your wall.

You snort, setting your phone down on your bed as you move to sit up. “Sure is.”

He clears his throat, gesturing awkwardly to your room. “Can I?”

You can’t help the grin that grows across your face. “Sure Javi.”

“Right, well-” His cheeks color as he shuts the door behind him. “Um, well, I was just hoping maybe we could uh- well uh-” He scratches the back of his head as your eyebrows raise. “Do you, uh, do you wanna go on a date with me?”

Your smile grows even wider as you nod, butterflies exploding in your stomach as he asks. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

His shoulders relax a little bit as his own smile transforms into a rather genuine one. “Yeah? Okay, um Friday?”

“I can do Friday.” You confirm.

“Okay, cool. That’s cool. I’ll pick you up at uh, say 7? Dinner?”

You nod again. “Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

Thunder breaks out, a lightning strike illuminating the sky as the two of you leave the restaurant in downtown San Diego.

You hum as the air turns, squeezing Javi’s hand. “You know, growing up I read this book where she used to count in between the thunder and the lightning and that would tell you how many miles away the storm was. I used to do it all the time until my Dad told me that it wasn’t real.”

He looks down at you, a fond smile as he walks towards his truck with you. A few raindrops begin to fall from the sky, wetting the asphalt beneath your feet. “My friend Addy does that. She used to at least.” He pauses for a minute then tilts his head. “You’d like Addy, actually. If she’s still anything like she was back then, you two would be bad for my blood pressure.”

You hum, pulling him closer. “I love rain. I remember when I used to sit out on my grandparents porch at their condo on the lake growing up and watch the storms. Or how my freshman year as an out-of-stater, I stood in my dorm’s parking lot in the rainstorm the first week while my whole floor watched me.”

He pauses near the car as the rain picks up, soft music from the restaurant following you guys into the parking lot. “Dance with me.” He says softly.

You let out a nervous laugh. “What?”

“Dance with me. Right now.” He says, already turning to take your other hand.

“Okay.” You say softly, letting his hand find the small of your back, as your hands clasp around his neck.

The movements are slow, Javi guiding you through a twirl. A laugh plays on your lips as he pulls you back close to his chest. He holds you there, something twinkling in his eyes as you look up at him.

“What?” You say through a laugh, feeling your cheeks warm as he gazes down at you. “Got dessert stuck on my face?”

He shakes his head. “No just, uh- you’re really pretty like this.”

A bashful grin tugs at your lips as you fight the urge to duck your head. “You too.”

He huffs out a laugh, both of his hands dropping to your waist. His teeth tug at his bottom lip, a movement you know he tracks you watching. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You step impossibly closer to him, tilting your head up at him. “Just shut up and kiss me already.”

“If the lady insists.” He murmurs, hands on your waist tightening as he leans down.

The kiss is searing, charged, as he tugs on your own bottom lip for permission. You tilt your head, giving him access.

The sky crackles to life above you once more and you pull away, probably sooner than Javi would’ve liked to stare at the sky in wonder.

“You’re something else, kid.”

“What are you doing?” You ask as Javi holds his hand out to you as you climb out of the front seat.

“What does it look like? I’m walking you to the front door.”

You hum, taking his hand as he shuts the door behind you. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“Well, I ain’t no Tyler Owens, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman.”

“Mmm, flowers, opening my car door, walking me back at night, one would almost say you’re trying to land yourself a second date Mr. Rivera.”

“Well, you know…” He shrugs his shoulders and you can pick up the blush on his cheeks as you two step into the yellow glow of the porch light. “I wouldn’t be mad about it.”

“Yeah?” You ask smugly as you reach out to smooth out the collar of his shirt. “You feeling brave or should I?”

“Hey, you think Pete is still awake?” He asks suddenly and you frown.

“Probably not, why?”

He hums, sticking his right hand out over the Ring camera. “Just for good measure.” He says softly, as he tilts your head up with his left, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. It’s over too soon and you find yourself chasing his lips. He laughs at you as he lets his hand fall. “Easy there, only the first date.”

You sigh and roll your eyes, pouring slightly. “Fine then.”

“What about drinks on Tuesday? Do you close?” You shake your head and he grins again. “Tuesday it is. I’ll call you, okay?” He says softly, squeezing your hand and you nod, before you turn, pulling the door open.

You slip inside, immediately moving to tug off your boots, stumbling and swearing as Pete says “Have a good time?”

You catch yourself on the entryway table as you look up to where he’s standing on the stairs. “Jesus, you scared me. What are you doing up?”

He holds up his phone. “Got the notification that you were back.” You grunt, finally tugging one of your shoes off and start to work on the second. “So really, you have a good time?”

You look up at him as the second shoe is freed from your foot and you smile. “Yeah, a really good time.”

Pete smirks as you walk towards the staircase. “He give you a goodnight kiss? Couldn’t quite tell what with him covering the camera.”

You scowl at him. “I’m an adult, what would it matter? Am I not allowed to kiss people now?”

He hums. “Well, just that back in my day, you didn’t exactly kiss them on the first date.”

“No, you just fucked them in seedy bar bathrooms.” Tom says from the top of the stairs. Pete turns, coloring red at the callout from his partner. You snicker as Tom walks down the steps, coming to stand on the one behind his husband. “You have a good time, kid?” You nod. “Javi respectful? Keep his hands where they’re supposed to be?” You nod again, although it isn’t lost on you that this is the most care and interest Tom has shown in you since you’d gotten back from Oklahoma. “Good. You coming back to bed Pete or are you going to stand out here all night?”

Pete sighs. “Yeah, I’m coming. Night kiddo.” Pete presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before turning, squeezing Tom’s hand as they walk back up the steps. You wait to hear their bedroom door shut before you shuffle down the hall to your own bedroom, the guest room that still sort of emanated a guest bedroom, with maybe a few more posters on the wall.

You pull off your clothes and change, deciding against going through your nighttime routine in favor of crawling under the covers.

If you happened to squeal like a teenager as you relieve the night, well that’s between you and the moon.

“So.” Mickey asks and he turns, catching his cousin with his hands in his pockets. “You ever gonna tell her you’re in love with her?”

He sighs, picking up another rock from the sand, thumbing over the smooth surface before chucking it into the lake. “You’ve always read me too easily.”

Mickey walks the few paces to stand next to him. “Kate called you tonight.”

It’s not a question. It’s a fact. He hadn’t gotten to the phone in time, Mickey seeing Kate’s contact photo cross his screen. It’s still the same one it’s always been, a picture of them from welcome week during the first year of grad school, a goofy photo of her poured over their textbook. Praveen is next to her, shoulder barely in the photo but the memory of him leaning all the way out of view of the camera into Jeb as he ate dinner in Kate and Addy’s apartment still makes him laugh.

“She did.”

Behind them, he can hear you. It’s someone’s birthday, he can’t bother to remember who, and you had all trekked down to the bay for a chilly November bonfire. Across the rippling water, he can see the lights of SeaWorld reflecting back at him.

Him and Kate had been talking — finally. Kate wanted him to come back to Oklahoma and he couldn’t deny that he missed the rush of a storm, the buzz beneath his skin. The way helping those people of El Reno had, in time, begun to heal those open wounds in his soul.

Addy had been blowing up his phone, Lilly too. He was ashamed to admit that it had been the first time he’d let himself talk to Addy and even more ashamed to admit just how much he’d missed her. Dani had called him here and there, getting him all caught up on the life he had missed and Boone would shout over her shoulder into the receiver, inevitably wrestling the phone from her to tell Javi whatever it was that was passing through his brain.

Even Tyler had gotten in on all of it; if only to talk about what a partnership between Tyler’s resources, Kate’s brain, and his radars would look like.

“You’re going back to Oklahoma.” Again, not a question.

He gives a half-hearted shrug. “I might be.”

Mickey lets out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. “You can’t be for real.” Mickey says incredulously, anger hinting underneath his words. “After everything.”

He scoffs. “Come on, Mick. You know, storm chasing is where my heart is. Same as how yours has always been with those planes.”

“No, it’s not.” Mickey says coldly. “And you know what, Javi? I didn’t just introduce you to her for the hell of it. I know just as well as you do what that girl means to you, even if you’re too much of a goddamn coward chickenshit to admit it to her. And I was the one who knew what she could be to you and I thought maybe she would be enough to-”

“To what, Mickey? This was never a forever.” He says honestly. Any idea Mickey got otherwise was on his cousin and his cousin alone.

Mickey huffs, turning to trek back up the sand.

And then, he hears it. He can’t hear what’s said exactly, but Bradley admonishes you for something and you go quiet.

And there it is again.

Ever since he’s met you and watched the way this crew interacted with you, he’s picked up on it, more and more. How little respect Bradley gives you. Really how little respect that whole team gave you. They had written you off.

Even Mickey, who you were the closest to, both in friendship and age, saw you as nothing more than a weird addition to the home he visited so much.

He didn’t see you for how kind you were, for how bright you were. How you drank so much creamer with your coffee Javi quite frankly thought it should be illegal. How you were funny and nothing was off-limits with you.

How you’d been so understanding the first time the two of you had remotely done anything physical and he had freaked out. How you had patiently listened as he panic-told you that he was into men and how he had dated Scott, a years-long rollercoaster that had only ended the day he left Scott behind in the mud outside of El Reno.

How you’d been so understanding when he explained that he hadn’t been with anyone since he and Scott had ended it, that the scars of that toxic relationship, however messy it had all been, were still there, not so easily forgettable. How you shared your own experiences, how you related to him, how good you were to him, how you loved him.

They didn’t care for you. They didn’t like you.

And not for the first time, it makes him wonder how you’d been with the Wranglers.

You’d confessed to the tipsy and ill-advised stick and poke Lilly had given you in a parking lot of a motel in Kansas, the Matilda bow on the back of your leg. You’d commented that you were always closest with Dani, the girl like the older sister you’d never had, and that Boone had cared for casual physical touch more than anyone else you’d ever met, something you didn’t realize you needed until he did it. You talked about how you missed Dexter’s stories the most, the man having lived and seen so much life.

It makes him hope someday he can get you and Addy in a room together, because he knows she’d love you. He wants to get you and Kate’s brains together, if only for his own amusement and entertainment. He wants you and Tyler to retell the stories from the season you’d spent with them, how Ty had been the one to teach you how to play the guitar.

He wanted you in Oklahoma with him. He wanted you in Oklahoma with him and his family.

For once in your life, you deserved for a village to care about you the way you cared about them.

Mickey’s staring at him expectantly and he licks his lips. “Kate-”

That was instantly the wrong choice as something dark twists in his cousin’s face. “Don’t bring that bitch up to me.” Mickey snarls.

“Look, I know you ain’t the biggest fan of her-”

“Understatement of the fucking century.” Mickey says through a humorless laugh. “And you know why, don’t you? Because maybe if that girl had cared about anybody but her damn self in the aftermath, I wouldn’t have had been the one to call the paramedics while my best friend sat in a pool of his own blood trying to kill himself.”

And that- wasn’t exactly fair.

Kate had closed herself off, gone to New York and never came home, but he’d subconsciously pushed her off after Addy and Kate had gotten discharged from the hospital.

Because he had believed they would be better off. Because he believed that they had needed each other more than they needed him. The only people in the whole world who would understand what Kate and Addy went through was Kate and Addy. All he had done was sit uselessly in a van.

It’s why he had dodged Addy all these years, despite her numerous and persistent efforts to get in touch with him.

“Maybe if Kate had been smarter, none of that shit would’ve ever happened at all and they’d still be here. You really think that girl will follow you back to Oklahoma? You think she’s going to go back to the Wranglers for you? She won’t and I don’t blame her. Not when you’re still clearly in love with Kate.”

By now, his heart is hammering in his chest, brain swimming as he fights to keep up, to process the insults as quickly as they come, as Mickey’s voice rises and he sees both you and Reuben turn at the sound of the commotion.

“Yeah, I was in love with Kate.” He admits softly. “But that- that ain’t what it is anymore. Ain’t what it’s been in a long time Mickey. And I’m not- not a fucking idiot. I know what I have is good. And maybe she’ll come back to Oklahoma and maybe she won’t. But I- I know that I love her. And it scares the fucking shit out of me okay, Mickey?”

Mickey’s face softens as he stumbles back through the cold sand, hand landing clumsily on his shoulder. “Javi, I-”

He shakes his head, nudging his hand off. “I think you’ve said enough.”

“So, things got pretty heated between you and Mickey tonight.”

He huffs out a humorless laugh, running a hand over his face as the two of you sit in the In-N-Out parking lot, red lights gleaming back inside the car.

You’d always been able to see right through him.

You feign nonchalance, taking a sip of your drink. “What was that all about?”

He swallows, hard. “I wouldn’t-” His voice comes out in a painful rasp and he swallows again. “I wouldn’t even know how to-”

His breath hitches as he thinks it over.

He- he really loves you, and he knows that. But he knows it’s selfish to ask you to sacrifice everything and go back to Oklahoma with him.

“It’s- I’m selfish, I think-” He swipes his palm over his eye, pressing hard to push back the sting of tears. “I don’t know.”

You frown, shifting to take out and reach his hand. Your thumb rubs gently over his knuckles as you look at him.

“Hey- you know I love you right?” Eyes wide, he raises his head to meet your concerned gaze. “Whatever it is, I’ll back you.”

“You-?”

You swallow, eyes glancing back out at the bustling restaurant.

“Yeah. I do. There’s no pressure to say it back if you aren’t in that place, I just-”

“No.” He says, swallowing. “No, I love you too.”

His grip on your hand becomes tighter, a small and yet pained smile on your face.

“Is this about Kate?”

He chokes on his own fear, letting go of your hand at the sound of her name leaving your mouth.

His arms meet his knees as he bends over in the cramped space, fingers coming up to tug at his curls.

He can hear you move again, hands slowly starting to rub circles on his back.

“Javi, hey.” You soothe. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

“But for how long?” He rasps out, squeezing his eyes shut. “How long until-” He cuts himself off, not wanting to picture how long it’ll be before you walk out the door.

Minutes?

Days, maybe?

Weeks, if he’s lucky.

How long will he get to keep you, before you see that nasty thing inside him? That thing that had made him blame Kate after Stillwater? That thing that had made him leave Scott defenseless in the mud?

He should end it now, before he can hurt you.

But he’s weak. He’s always been weak.

The scars on his wrist prove that.

“For as long as you want me here, okay? Javi, if this is about Kate and Oklahoma and- and finishing what you started, I want you to know I’m there with you.” You say softly, hands never leaving his body.

He steals a glance at you with a quick turn of his head but you’re faster, one of your hands darting out to keep his head from turning away from you again.

“Hey, is that what this is about?”

“I- I want to go back but I don’t want- I want you with me. But I know it’s selfish of me to ask that of you.”

You shake your head. “Hey, it’s not selfish. Remember I spent a season storm chasing?” You make a face, akin to as if you’ve just tasted something sour. “I may not really get the appeal, but I do get the Oklahoma charm. I didn’t buy a house out there for no reason.”

He swallows, realizing he’d forgotten all about that part.

Oklahoma had once been your home as much as it had once been his.

“If you want to go back to Oklahoma, then I’m right there with you. If you want to tell them all to fuck off and stay here in San Diego then I’d support you in that too. What I’m saying is, you don’t have to worry about me. Make the decision you know is best for you, and I’ll follow you wherever you want to go.”

He searches your face for any inkling of hesitation or untruth.

There is none.

Something in him must shift because the smile you give him now is real, genuine.

“I want it. I want to go back to Oklahoma, I- I need to. It’s-” He cuts himself off as he licks his lips, suddenly at a loss to explain how much this means to him, how much he needs to do this with those people.

“I’m all in, baby.”

#javi rivera #javi rivera x reader #javi rivera x female reader #twisters #twisters fic #all of my life it's been heartbreak weather

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toasttt11 · 6 months ago

Text

broken family

June 4, 2018

Ellen rubbed her face hearing her phone going off in the middle of the night and she looked at the clock seeing it barely two am and grabbed her phone, “Hello?” Ellen cleared her throat.

“Hi is this Ellen Hughes?” A woman’s voice spoke through the phone.

“It is.” Ellen confirmed.

“I’m calling from San Diego Hospital.” The woman told her.

Ellen sat up quickly as she heard what hospital was calling her as she knew it was the hospital the Blake’s go too.

Jim squinted his eyes seeing his wife on the phone and sitting up in bed at two in the morning, he sat up with her and rested his hand on her back making her look over at him and put the call on speaker.

“A few hours ago Harrison and Maddison Blake were hit by a drunk driver and were immediately taken to the hospital for emergency surgery. Unfortunately they have both passed away and Hayden Blake said that we could call you.”

Ellen gasped dropping her phone onto the bed as Jim froze hearing the words their best friends are dead.

Ellen coveted her mouth in shock her eyes watering.

“Thank you.” Jim mumbled to the phone and hung up the call, he knew they needed to get to Hayden immediately.

Ellen looked at her husband with a heartbroken face and watery eyes, his ways were filled with tears. The two clung to each other and let themselves cry for a few minutes before they pulled away and took a deep breath.

“I’ll pack for us and get the flights, will you get the boys and tell them to pack and we will tell them before we leave.” Ellen asked her husband wiping her face of tears.

Jim nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to his wife’s forehead before getting out of bed and walking to Quinn’s room first.

He opened the door seeing his eldest and youngest son laying next to each other and he walked over gently shaking Quinn awake, who always wakes up extremely quickly.

“Quinn i need you to wake Luke up and both of you pack for a few days we need to go to San Diego soon. We’ll explain everything to you three before we leave but please.” Jim quickly explained to a very confused Quinn.

Quinn nodded and started waking up Luke as their father walked out of the room and to Jack’s room.

Jim shook his head not at all suprised seeing Jack sprawled out like a starfish on his bed and he walked over waking him up and telling him to pack before heading back to his room seeing Ellen finishing up packing.

“The boys all up?” Ellen spoke softly her face in sad frown, Jim nodded and helped her put the last few things into their suitcase and zipped it up.

They headed down to the living room with their bags and a few minutes later Quinn came down with his bag and then Luke and eventually Jack.

Ellen and Jim had the boys sit on the living room couch and shared a sad look.

“We’re going to San Diego for Hayden.” Ellen started telling her three boys.

“Is Haydes okay?” Jack immediately sat up in worry, Quinn and Luke both looked extremely worried.

“She’s okay.” Ellen reassured her children, she knew Hayden was fine physically but emotionally she knew Hayden was definitely broken.

“Uncle Harry and Aunty Maddie were in car accident a few hours ago.” Ellen told her boys gripping onto her husband’s hand.

Quinn swallowed having a feeling he knew what was wrong, Jack titled his head and Luke looked confused but still worried.

“They both passed away.” Jim voice cracked as he told his boys.

Jack’s jaw dropped and his eyes watered, Quinn clenched his jaw and fists, squeezing his eyes shut. Luke frowned confused on what he was supposed to feel, he was only fourteen and he never had anyone close to him pass away.

“Like we won’t see them again?” Luke hesitantly asked, Ellen nodded shutting her eyes at how innocent her youngest son sounded.

The boys all stayed silent in their own worlds as they left their house and got in the car to drive to the airport.

The Hughes got onto the plane and it was short four hour flight to San Diego from Michigan making them land by seven in the morning.

Ellen and Jim got a car and loaded it up and quickly drove them all to the Blake’s house.

Ellen took a deep breath as they pulled into the driveway realizing her best friend wouldn’t be in the house when she goes in.

Jim squeezed her hand reassuringly and they shared a look getting out the car with the boys all following her.

Jim unlocked the front door and Archie walked around the counter of the front entrance barking but calmed down once he saw the Hughes.

Luke patted Archie’s head as they walked through the entryway and turned the corner seeing Hayden sitting on the floor with her knees to her chest and her back against the wall.

Hayden looked up hearing people walk in and she knew it was the Hughes, “They’re dead.” Hayden said monotonously her face blank, her eyes dim, her cheeks covered in trails of tears and her nose red from crying.

Ellen squeezed her eyes feeling her heartbreaking at how broken Hayden is right now and she kneeled down in front of her goddaughter.

Hayden eyes searched Ellen’s face before she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Ellen tightly feeling her shoulders shake with silent sobs.

Ellen let out tears as she held Hayden feeling she sobbing.

Jim guided the boys back outside to grab their bags giving Hayden and Ellen a few moments alone.

Ellen let Hayden cry for a while until her knees were aching from kneeling on the tile and Hayden’s sobs died down.

“Why don’t we get you to bed Hay.” Ellen spoke softly and looked at her watch knowing Hayden has been up for to long but froze seeing the date on her watch, with everything that happen the last few hours it slipped her mind that today is Hayden’s birthday.

Ellen realized Hayden has just lost her parents on her birthday, “Oh Hay i’m so sorry. Happy birthday.” Ellen mumbled against Hayden’s hair feeling her sob once more.

Ellen helped Hayden sit up and slowly walk to her room seeing the boys in her room already, Hayden was similar to a zombie as she walked and got into her bed not saying a word.

Jack quickly got into bed next to her and cuddled to his best friend. Luke got into the bed on the other side and grabbed onto her hand holding it tightly and Quinn laid on the bed next to Jack and his arm rested across the pillow and his hand rested on her head.

Ellen and Jim shared a extremely heartbroken look as they starred at the four, Ellen and Jim both knew Hayden’s custody goes to them and they don’t have a single problem with becoming Hayden’s legal guardian and her living with them, she’s their goddaughter.

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greymoonfeelings · 2 years ago

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The Best Day

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Fem! reader

Summary: Bradley’s past year has been spent creating lasting memories with you, but tonight is about to be his favorite.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: pregnancy, cheesy ass love, mentions of angsty situations

This is for the @tgm-all4one challenge! The prompt “Last summer was one no one could ever forget. Now, a year later, character(s) still feel(s) the effects of that time” is very fitting as I’m still thirsting over these pilots a year later. Happy anniversary TG:M!

•••

Last summer was one of the best Bradley had experienced in a long time and things had only gotten better. A year later, he’s still feeling the effects of that summer, the endless happiness that it had brought into his life. Not only had he made up with his Mav and made a new family with the permanently stationed Dagger Squad, but the girl he met within the first week in San Diego was about to be his wife.

The first time you and Bradley met, you had been enjoying a rare day off at the beach. The sun was shining bright and the cool temperature of the ocean was a welcomed change to the heat of your stuffy office. You had been getting out of the water after enjoying a nice swim. You thought you were far enough from the group of people playing football in the sand, but you weren’t. As you wiped sand off your torso, something collided with you. You hit the sand hard, but before you could curse out whoever slammed into you, you were met with an outrageously attractive sight. The man profusely apologized, asking how he could make it up to you. The offer of a night of free drinks was enough for you and the events of that night had led you to this moment right here.

“Are you sure about this, Bradley?”

The two of you stand in each other's arms in your shared bedroom. You’re wrapped in a pink fluffy robe and Bradley is still dressed in his sweatpants and ratty old UVA shirt even though it’s nearing 4 pm.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Bradley assures you with a light kiss on your temple, careful not to press too hard on your makeup which you had just spent the better half of an hour perfecting.

“You’re not just doing this because you feel obligated?” You drop your gaze to your growing stomach, suddenly feeling very unsure of yourself. You need Bradley to want to marry you because he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, not just because you’re carrying his child.

Bradley tilts your chin with two fingers bringing your eyes back to him. There’s nothing but adoration swimming in his brown eyes. “The only reason I didn’t drop down on one knee earlier was because I thought two weeks of knowing each other was too soon.”

“Two weeks?” You ask incredulously.

“See, you agree, it would’ve been crazy. But I wanted it, honey. I am not just marrying you because you’re carrying my child, but I took it as a sign.” His large hand joins yours in covering your small bump. “That’s my baby boy in there and I want nothing more than to marry his mommy.”

“Save the sweet talk for your vows, mister.”

“Oh, just wait. I’ll have the whole backyard in tears.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chide playfully. You fully believe in Bradley’s ability to turn all your guests to mush. For all his playfulness, Bradley Bradshaw is an extremely emotional man and he always knows the perfect words to put you in your feels (not that it’s hard nowadays with your hormones all over the place.) “Get outta here so I can put on my dress. It’s bad luck to see me in it before the altar.”

“Now you’re superstitious? You know it’s also bad luck to see you the day of.”

“I’m not superstitious, but I am a little ‘stitious, so leave.” You shove Bradley towards the bedroom door as he busts out laughing at your response. When you finally get him out of the room, you shut the door and fall against it with a big smile. Hearing that laugh for the rest of your life is going to make you the happiest woman alive.

You spend the next hour getting into your dress and putting the final touches on your look. It's easy to relax knowing that Penny and Mav have everything under control with the guests and backyard set up. Bradley had put your last-minute fears to rest and now the butterflies in your stomach are from pure excitement. Tonight is about to be the best and easiest night of your life.

———

The opening notes of the Bridal March cut through the cooling summer air in your backyard. You take a deep breath and smooth down the fabric of your dress before moving forward. You begin your journey down the path of bright green grass that’s surrounded by white folding chairs on both sides, making your way toward the makeshift altar.

All your closest friends and your parents stand from their seats and watch you with big smiles. Your eyes scan over each of their faces as you walk past. You can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek as you bask in the love that is palpable in the air. To think, a year ago, you had felt so alone in a new city and now you were surrounded by people you called your family.

Your eyes finally land on your fiancé who stands beside his uncle under a wooden arch decorated with yellow flowers. Bradley watches intently as you travel towards him, looking like a princess in your wedding gown. He immediately tears up at the sight of you illuminated by the canopy of fairy lights strung across the trees.

His chest feels tight from how much love he’s experiencing. Never in a million years did he think he would ever be this happy, not after everything that had happened in his life. You were like a breath of fresh air and the moment he met you, he knew things would never be the same.

You finally come to your spot in front of him and Bradley wants to kiss you right then, but he knows that’s against the rules. Instead, he takes your soft hands in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“You look so beautiful.”

“You clean up nice yourself.” You beam up at Bradley with the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen and he can’t help the wide grin that splits his face. He's never felt this giddy in his life.

Maverick clears his throat before beginning. “Today is a celebration. A celebration of love, commitment, friendship, family, and of two people who are in it for forever. I’ve never been good with words, so I will try to keep this short and sweet. Some people believe that love is determined by fate. They believe that love is a cosmic thing, set by the universe and written in the stars. I’ve always been a skeptic, but Carole Bradshaw believed in it. She believed that she and Goose were meant to be. She would’ve believed the same about you two.

The type of love that I witnessed between Goose and Carole was one that I never thought I’d see again, but I see it here, between the two of you. The love between you is genuine. It’s shown through everything you do for one another, and how you treat each other in good times and bad. You help each other grow and become better people. You encourage each other with patience and kindness. There is no doubt in my mind that your love will last for many years to come. May your lives together be long and filled with many happy memories.”

By the time Maverick is finished, you’re a mess. At the mention of your departed in-laws, you immediately started crying. You loved them so much and you never even met them. You knew just from hearing about them how much they loved each other and knowing that their best friend sees that same love between you and Bradley warms your heart.

Bradley sheds his own tears from thinking about his parents and how they can’t be here in person, but instead of wiping his tears, he dries yours. He never wants to see you cry even if he knows these aren’t bad tears.

“Now, do you, Bradley Bradshaw, take this beautiful woman as your wife? Do you promise to love her unconditionally, offer her your love, support, trust, and respect as you build your future together?”

“I do.”

Maverick turns to you. “Do you take this man as your husband? Do you promise to love him unconditionally, offer him your love, support, trust, and respect as you build your future together?”

“I do,” You promise and the genuine love in your eyes tightens Bradley’s chest.

“You may now exchange your vows.”

“Can I go first? Because I have a feeling after yours, I’ll have too much snot running down my face to speak properly.” You speak, barely above a whisper so only Bradley and Mav, by proximity, can hear. Your question elicits a watery chuckle from Bradley as he nods for you to begin.

“For as long as I can remember, I have waited for my prince charming. From falling for fictional characters to terrible teenage lovers, I eventually came to terms with the idea that the love I wanted didn’t exist. I tried to make peace with the fact that I was likely going to end up all by myself. It was the main reason why I threw myself into work and consequently took the job that brought me to San Diego. The day I first met you, when you knocked into me at the beach, I thought, ‘I am going to castrate this man…’”

Everyone laughs, including Bradley. Your reaction was on par with what they all knew about you.

“But then I looked up and saw a hunky god-like man looking down at me, apologizing and I decided that it would be cruel to deprive the world of your ability to have kids. Now, one year later, I’m the lucky girl who will be gracing this planet with the cutest babies ever.” Your hand finds your stomach as everyone laughs again.

“Bradley, you are so much more than I could have ever dreamed for. You love me in a way I never thought I would experience. You love me on my darkest days when I can’t bring myself to eat and have day-old mascara running down my cheeks. You love me when I obnoxiously belt out old pop songs on the freeway and when I hog all the blankets. You love me so much that you get up at 2 am to get me convenience store pickles because I woke up craving them. I spent so long thinking I was hard to love, but you never make me feel that way. You’re patient and kind. You take everything I throw at you in stride. I love you more than words can express, but I hope I did a good job.”

As you finish, Bradley’s calloused thumb graces your cheek to wipe away tears you didn’t realize had fallen. His eyes are glossy too and a few stray tears make their way down his face.

“That’s gonna be a tough act to follow.” His voice comes out thin, evidence of his emotional state. He then clears his throat before he begins his vows.

“I spent most of my adult life alone. After losing all my loved ones, I was hurt and angry at the world. I never let anyone new get too close because I was afraid I would lose them too. I always seemed like the most popular guy in the room, serenading the whole bar, cracking jokes, and acting like everyone was my best friend, but I would return to my empty room at the barracks feeling like the loneliest guy in the world. When I got called back to Top Gun, I thought it would be another lonely experience, but then I met you that fateful day at the beach and everything changed. I never believed in love at first sight in fact, I never believed that I would find love ever. I knew it existed, I saw the love my mother had for my father even after he was gone, but I didn’t think it was in the cards for me. The minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you were my forever. You made me yearn for a future I never even realized I could have. I felt terrible for body slamming some poor girl, but I felt ten times worse when I saw it was my future wife…”

“You’re laying it on real thick,” you joke even though his speech is causing you to cry like a baby.

“You doubt me, but you’re standing here with me, and I’m about to put a ring on it.” Bradley smiles back before continuing. “I knew that if I wanted to have a shot with you, I would need to tear down the walls I had spent so many years hiding behind. The idea of opening up to you was terrifying, but you made me want to do it so badly. I wanted to get to know you and I wanted you to know me too. You remained by my side, waiting patiently and encouraging me as I slowly learned how to open myself up again. You never pushed me or made me feel like my grief was a burden. You never made me feel bad about battling old ghosts, you even helped me conquer them.

I love you more than I thought a human being was capable of. When I’m without you, I feel lost. You’ve become the best part of my day. You let me lean on you when I’m having a rough time. You never judge my feelings and you always make sure I feel loved even when I don’t feel I deserve it. You make me stronger and happier. I never knew what living meant until I met you. All those years I spent floating through life and feeling bad have disappeared. I never want to know what it’s like to live without you now that I have you. I love you and our baby boy so much. I can’t wait to build this life with you.

“God, I fucking love you.” You cry softly and Bradley squeezes your hands that have been enveloped in his the entire time.

“It's time to exchange your rings.” Maverick prompts and Jake rises from his front-row seat with the tiny silk pillow that holds two silver bands. You each take the respective bands meant for the other.

Bradley holds your left hand delicately in his and as he slips the silver wedding band on your ring finger, he speaks. “I give you this ring as a symbol of my everlasting love for you. It's a promise that I will always love you no matter what separates us be it land, sea, or sky.” Once the ring is sitting snug on your finger he presses his lips to it.

You repeat the step with Bradley’s hand, bringing the band up to his finger and pronouncing, “With this ring, you will have a reminder close by that you are always in my heart. I love you and I am yours today and forever.”

“I know the two of you have been eager to get to this part, so we won’t make you wait any longer. It's my pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife. Bradley, you may now kiss your bride.”

“Thank god!” One of Bradley’s arms snakes around your waist while his free hand comes to caress your cheek. He kisses you with such force it would send you stumbling if it weren’t for his arm steadying you. You throw your hands around his neck, pulling his body flush against yours and kiss him back with just as much passion, cementing your love for your now husband.

You never want to pull away, but you do for the sake of getting enough air to keep you standing upright. Bradley’s lips brush against yours softly as he whispers. “I love you so much.”

Your hands find each other as you turn to face the crowd. A loud round of applause breaks out as you throw your clasped hands in the air as a symbol of unity. The two of you had been going around as a united team for a while now, but this solidifies it.

———

Your first dance with Bradley to The One by Elton John is straight out of a movie. The fairy lights twinkling above you illuminate Bradley’s soft brown eyes which capture yours in a loving gaze. A soft smile has found a permanent place on his face this evening and you have a matching one. The two of you waltz around the dance floor with your arms wrapped around his middle and his holding you tight around your waist.

When the chorus begins, Bradley gently brings your head to rest against his chest. Your ear presses against the soft fabric of his shirt just above his heart. The sound of his steady heartbeat mixes with the very fitting lyrics. Despite all the eyes on you, it still manages to feel like you and he are the only two people in the world as you dance together.

“When stars collide like you and I, no shadows block the sun. You're all I've ever needed. Oh, baby, you're the one.” Bradley sings just loud enough for you to hear and then presses a kiss to the top of your head, letting you know that the words are specifically for you. And they encapsulate your feelings just as well because Bradley is the only one you ever needed, him and now your baby boy.

As the song ends, you pull Bradley down for a lingering kiss, holding onto the collar of his shirt even as the music changes to a more fast pace song. Bradley hums happily against your lips and when he pulls away, he has a giddy smile on his face.

The rest of the night is spent dancing with your loved ones around the backyard. Laughter and off-key singing fills the air as people let loose. It’s no secret that the squad is one of the rowdiest bunches around and this night is a perfect opportunity to have some unforgettable fun. Food is devoured, bets are made on how long it will take Bob to bust out the old sprinkler dance move and shots are taken each time Bradley gets caught staring at you.

When it comes time to cut the cake, everyone watches intently as your hand covers Bradley’s and the two of you cut out the first slice together. You each take a fork full and feed it to the other, resulting in another round of applause from your guests. While Bradley is distracted savoring the spongy cake, you take the opportunity to gather frosting on your fingers and smear it across his face, making sure to get it into his mustache. Before he can do the same to you, you take his face in your hands and like a long stripe across the coarse hairs.

“Mmm,” you hum smugly.

“There are children here!” Bradley gasps, scandalized as if the action hadn’t turned him on a little bit. You cackle in response, but your amusement is cut short when Bradley scoops up a dollop of frosting and spreads it across your face. He licks the light purple frosting off your cheek before kissing you hard.

———

After giving a riveting performance of Baby One More Time at the request of Phoenix, you step away and take a moment to catch your breath. You watch from afar as your friends continue to have the time of their lives.

Jake and Coyote are taking I Wanna Dance With Somebody way too seriously, serenading Fanboy and Bradley who are singing back at them equally as loud. Payback twirls his wife around. Bob seems to have overindulged in the beer, an unusual occurrence because he’s all too confident he can hit the high notes of the song as he jumps around with Phoenix.

It’s impossible to stop the giggles coming from you as you watch the scene unfold. These big, strong, badass fighter pilots look silly dancing around with absolutely zero inhibitions. These idiots are your family and you couldn’t love them anymore. They are exactly the type of people you always wanted in your life. You stand for a few moments longer, simply soaking it all up.

Fanboy, the “DJ” of the night, announces through the speakers that there will be one last song, a slow one for all the couples. You almost can’t believe the night is already over. You feel like you could spend forever stuck in this moment. The joy, fun, love, it’s all so amazing. This night is only the beginning of the rest of your life with Bradley, but it’s been the best night ever.

At Last by Etta James plays. It’s one of Bradley’s favorite songs to dance with you to. You’ve spent many nights together swaying in a dimly lit kitchen while the record plays. You make your way back to the dance floor where you find your husband waiting for you with an outstretched hand.

Bradley’s arms find themselves wrapped around your waist again. There’s a slight chill in the air from the midnight summer wind, but being close to Bradley keeps you warm. Other couples join you on the makeshift dance floor. Your parents along with Mav and Penny. Payback and his wife join. Phoenix drags Jake to dance with her and even with all the alcohol he’s consumed he’s still coordinated enough to dance the way his mama taught him.

“I’m so happy,” you whisper into the air between you and Bradley.

“Me too,” he whispers back as he lets his forehead fall against yours. “I love you.” One hand falls to your belly. The warmth from his large hand radiates through the fabric of your dress.

You press your lips against his softly. “You don’t have to keep saying it. I believe you.”

“I’m going to say it every minute until the day I die. I’ll shout it from the sky. I’m going to make sure the whole world knows.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you shake your head playfully.

“And you still married me.”

“Is it too late to change my mind?”

“That plane took off hours ago.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I love you too.”

“Yes, it is. The best thing in the whole world.”

#heather writes #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster bradshaw x reader

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echoingbirdsofprey · 3 months ago

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Delicate (Jake's Version)

15 - Jake's Resolve

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!) Chapter rated R

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of dark and mature themes including capture, physical, psychological and pharmacological torture. Reader discretion is advised. Do Not read if you feel it may be detrimental to your mental health.

A/N: Jake might be hallucinating a little and Sam goes to chat with someone who will be instrumental in Jake's recovery...should he come home.

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891

Playlist

Jake was about done with this torture bullshit. It was for the birds.

They were giving him pain meds, making him feel all sorts of good, and then they would let it fade, and let him go a day or maybe it was hours without, he still wasn’t keeping track. Jake was delirious during the time that he didn’t have the pain medication. The tingling and numbness would radiate up his arms and then settle at his wrists. His shoulder felt like it was being torn out of the socket and his collarbone and the muscles around it hurt like hell from being stretched continuously. Every once in a while, Jake would let out a loud howl of pain, when it became too unbearable, as it would come in waves when he was without pain medication, which would then prompt his captors to come in and pull him down and lay him on the cold concrete floor. It felt good, the coolness of the ground against his skin, which felt feverishly hot. He was probably going to get pneumonia or something.

They’d let him down at one point, and he fell to his knees and vomited on the floor in front of him almost immediately. Just to add to the humiliation, the man who seemed to be the leader took Jake by his hair and wiped his face through his own puke, which only served to make Jake feel even more sick.

He stunk. His sweat was crusted on his shirt, the salt burning his skin. Bile had dried on his face. He had a gnarly beard and a metallic taste in his mouth that lingered. His whole body hurt. His skin felt dry and papery. His brain was foggy and he felt himself drift in and out of consciousness continuously. He was only wide awake when they shoved water and food down his throat. They hadn’t taken him down to go to the bathroom so he’d peed all over the front of his pants. He hadn’t shit at all because everything just came back up.

Jake wondered if this was what dying felt like. Was this what Iceman had felt like at the end? Helpless and alone? Surely not to this degree, but mentally...maybe. Jake tried to keep his mind going back to Sam over and over but the bad part of that was when he did, he got hard. There was nothing he could do for that so he just had to suffer. He tried his best to just shut his brain off completely.

Jake's resolve was fading.

🛩🛩🛩

Sam needed to talk to someone. Someone that understood what might happen when Jake came home. If he did.

Margie was one of Sam’s oldest friends. They’d gone to middle school together and Sam always kept in touch when she moved away and Margie stayed in San Diego, Tierrasanta to be exact. Margie met Ryker, her husband, in the military. Ryker was an Air Force pilot, who’s plane had been shot down in Afghanistan. He had been taken prisoner and tortured for several months. He survived and when he came home he needed someone to look after him and help him get around. Enter Margie.

Margie trained military and police K9s for a living. As part of Ryker’s healing, she taught him everything he knew about it and now they have a training and breeding operation, still for military and police dogs, but also for veterans who need an outlet and even for families who want protection dogs. Margie couldn’t have children, so the dogs were always enough and Ryker, while he had wanted kids at one point, had decided that Margie and the pups were exactly what he needed. With his medical history, he didn’t feel like raising a child, even if they adopted, was a good idea.

When Sam headed up the stairs and into the house she was first greeted by a beautiful dark brown dog with pointed black ears and black paws. She wagged her tail, knowing Sam well and remembering her.

“Hi Hanna, sweet girl.” Sam said, kneeling to allow the dog to rub against her. She scratched the dog’s neck and back and Margie appeared, her first instinct was to hug Sam tight. She had spoken to Margie on the phone and had briefly told her what was going on with Jake. Margie guided Sam into the kitchen where Ryker sat. He was a large man with a dark reddish brown beard and piercing mahogany eyes. He looked like a brick shit house, muscles bulging from everywhere.

“I’m sorry to hear about your fiance, Sammy.” He said, his voice ocean deep. She smiled weakly and Margie offered her a seat. “How can we help?”

“I don’t know...I just know that if he comes home...” Her voice broke and Margie hugged her from behind.

“When...gotta think positive, hun.” Ryker interjected and Sam swallowed hard.

“When...when he comes home...I’m sure he won’t be the same.” She said and Ryker nodded.

“He will be angry. He will have no confidence. He will be broken. That's what can happen with this job...I'm sorry it happened to him. I went through something similar. But if he’s half the man you told Margie...he’ll want to get better for you, sweets. You have to believe in him.” Ryker explained, knowing exactly how Jake would feel, as he'd been through a similar experience.

“I know he won’t give up. I just can't lose him...” Tears had begun to well in Sam's eyes and Margie hugged her, then she headed off into another room. Ryker reached across the table and touched Sam's hand.

“Hun, he's gonna need someone to talk to and that should be you, but sometimes us dudes don't wanna talk about the nitty gritty of war with our ladies...we don't wanna hurt you with the imagery of it...so when he's ready bring him to me and I'll talk to him about the really bad shit.” Ryker said, glancing around for Margie. He clearly wondered where she’d gone. He knew what she was doing but he didn’t know why it was taking her so long.

“I want him to be able to tell me that stuff...” Sam said softly, feeling as though that sentiment meant Jake didn’t trust her, when she knew he did.

“And I'm sure he will...down the line...but he's not gonna wanna terrify you. It can be pretty gruesome, Sammy...” Ryker said, squeezing her hand.

“My dad...” She said and then Ryker interjected swiftly.

“Told you some things, but never everything.” He said and Sam nodded.

“Yeah...” She said, agreeing that there were probably plenty of things that Ice had kept from her, to protect her.

“That’s how your Jake is gonna be...he won’t want to tell you all the real bad shit. There’s still a couple missions I never told Margie about because they were too horrifying, even for me to re-live now, even though I’ve come to terms with everything that happened to me.” He affirmed, and Sam glanced at him with furrowed brows. She winced slightly, thinking of what Jake could be going through right now. In all honesty, she couldn’t imagine it. She couldn’t imagine him being tortured, being beaten half to death. She couldn’t imagine him taking that kind of abuse. But then again, if he wanted to stay alive and come home, maybe it was what he had to do.

Margie brought two puppies in from another room and placed one in Sam’s arms. The other she held and the little puppy gnawed on her fingers gently. Sam tilted her head, wondering why Margie had done this.

“I know what helped me get better...I know what’ll help Jake get better...we wanna give you these two puppies. And I know they’ll suggest he sees a therapist or talks to someone who works with veterans and POWs. He can come every week and bring the puppies. It’ll be the best outlet for him. And it’ll only be better for you because if he can get better, he’ll be back up in a plane or he’ll be teaching others to fly and you’ll want something at home that can protect you just as well as Jake when he’s deployed.” Ryker explained and Sam's eyes went wide as she hugged the squirming puppy.

“Oh my god, no, Margie, Ryker, I can’t just take them. I’ll pay you. This is part of your business.” Sam said, shaking her head and glancing down at the puppy. She was a pretty black coated pup, and dainty, but she seemed fiesty nonetheless.

“It’s no problem. We donate a few puppies a year to veterans or departments looking for dogs. We wanted to donate these two to you...and also think of them as a wedding present too.” Margie said, handing her the other puppy. He settled into Sam’s arms quietly.

“God...this is so generous...you guys are amazing. I don’t know what Jake will say, but I know he gets along with Rocco, and you know how Rocco is.” Sam said, thinking of how Rocco liked Jake from the start. That was rare for Rocco, as he didn’t trust any strangers. He barely let Nat come into the house sometimes.

“Bring Rocco too if you want. We can teach him some fun tricks.” Ryker said with a smile.

“I absolutely will. Thank you, again. I’ll keep you updated on Jake.” Sam said and she got ready to depart, feeling a little more at ease with everything. Now she had something to focus on other than worrying about whether or not Jake was coming home. She needed to focus on work and the puppies, and maintaining a belief that Jake would come home and that he’d be okay in time. She knew he wouldn’t be okay now, but with time, he would.

Sam left with the puppies in tow. They were both black Malinois puppies, not a common color for the breed, but Ryker and Margie didn’t breed for color. Margie bred for personality, athletic ability and willingness to work. They needed to be ultimately loyal to their handler and protect the families they lived with. The puppies walked nicely by Sam’s side, one on either, and she debated taking them back to Jake and Javy’s first, or home to get Rocco, or straight to the pet store.

She decided to get Rocco first. She didn’t want to leave him out and she figured a good place to introduce him to the puppies would be on neutral territory, even though Rocco was great with other dogs. He was mostly her dog after all even though he lived at home while she’d been at college. She had been so sad that she couldn’t take him, but happy when she came home to the little guy.

When she arrived back at the house, there was a stillness that filled the air. An emptiness that she hated. No one was home. Her mother was out with her brother and sister at after school activities, so she always left Rocco to roam the house by himself. He had the whole place to himself too, but he mostly occupied the couch and his bed by the front window or the one by the back door. That was where the sun came in.

Entering the house, she took the puppies out to the backyard immediately and set them free so they could do their business. Rocco followed dutifully, barking a few times at them, but not throwing forth much effort to bother the pups. He was just two years old so he still had a bit of a playful attitude, but he was also a very mature dog himself. He watched them from the deck, at Sam’s feet. He wagged his tail as they came closer, wiggling his long body back and forth. Sam knelt down to run her hand over the little red dog’s back and he glanced up at her with a whine.

“These are your new brother and sister. The boy is called Ballast and the girl is called Muster. And don’t worry, you’re still the favorite, buddy.” she said and Rocco whimpered and then headed down the stairs to have a run with the pups, who happily obliged.

🛩🛩🛩

They had the reconnaissance they needed. A week or so had passed, and they’d received more videos of Jake in captivity. They’d had to watch as his captors broke his ribs, as they knocked him unconscious with the butt of a rifle, and as they stripped him of his flight suit, leaving him in his boxer briefs and his nasty, no longer white t-shirt.

“I can’t watch this shit anymore. When are we leaving?” Bradley turned to Maverick, who was assessing the last video feed. Part of their recon had to be centered on how poor Jake’s condition was. He was obviously run down, definitely dehydrated, and most likely sick or on the verge of getting sick. His body was taxed, beyond G-force and harsh conditions. They would need to be careful when transporting him. They also weren't aware of his mental state.

They were going in with Marines and Nat, Bob, Payback, Fanboy, Omaha, and Fritz would fly air support with a rescue helicopter. Maverick, Bradley, and Coyote would be in the chopper with the Marines and a medic. They were more extra hands to move Jake more than anything as they only had training with a pistol and hand-to-hand combat. Halo, Harvard, and Yale would stay on the carrier as back-up support. The medic was bringing a back board to put him on, surmising he wouldn't be able to walk. From the videos, they believed Jake had lost a significant amount of weight, and he had several broken bones, so moving him anywhere and quickly was going to be difficult.

Everyone headed to their stations, the helicopter waiting on deck for Bradley, Javy, and Mav. As they boarded, Nat and Bob headed over to wish them luck and they did the same for them. Bradley checked his pistol quickly and he gave a look to Mav that said he meant business.

“I don't like that look, Rooster.” Mav yelled over the sound of the rotors whirring.

“It's the only one I've got, Mav.” He yelled back and Maverick smiled wider at him and patted him on the shoulder as he also checked his pistol.

🛩🛩🛩

Jake groaned in agony, the muscles in his shoulders aching, feeling very much like they were being ripped from the bones. He continually reassessed his injuries, trying to settle in his thoughts. Breathing was laborious with his broken ribs. Every time his lungs expanded, stabbing pain shot through his mid-section, so he tried his best to take smaller breaths. His wrists were raw from the cuffs, beginning to bleed now up by his palms.

He hung his head, the smell of vomit, blood, and sweat thick in his nostrils. He'd become accustomed to it now. His captors had left him alone now for several days...maybe...at least Jake thought it was several days. There was very little light that came in through the place he was being held. Everything was grey and stone like, cold and unforgiving. The last time he had water was...a while ago...and the last food he'd had came back up almost as soon as it hit the top of his stomach. He was dizzy, and keeping his eyes shut was the only thing helping the massive headache he had. His head felt like it was being split in two, right down the middle. Dehydration looked fucking terrible on him. His thoughts, despite it all, continuously centered on one thing.

Sam .

You're more beautiful than an afterburner at night.

You've made me the man that I should've always been, in the short time we've been together.

I would die for you...but...I can’t do that because I have to live for you. I need to live for you.

If you only knew this hell I'm going through, it might terrify you. God, if you only knew how much I fucking miss you.

Maybe you do know...maybe you have this telepathic line to my thoughts and you know exactly what I'm thinking. You know exactly how much I want to be with you right now. How fucking terrible I feel. I feel like this is all my fault.

Can't think like that, Jake. Gotta stay positive. They will come find you. They will. They will. Bradley promised. Mav promised. Nat promised. They will find you.

God, Samantha, I miss you.

Miss everything about you. You're beautiful smile and the way you speak, so fucking sure of yourself. Those pretty brown waves that fall over your shoulders, or across your back when you're laying in bed. Fuck...I love every damn bit of you.

I love kissing your neck. I love the way you kiss me back. I miss the way you run your fingers through my hair. Ugh it feels so good. I love how you look at me when I fuck you...God do I miss being inside you. You're the best I've ever had, baby girl. The absolute best.

And I fucking miss you so much.

Jake felt the sting of tears and he blinked a few times, as his head pounded harder. Not only was he crying from the pain but he was crying from how badly he missed Sam. He just wished he was home with her, cuddling under the sheets, the ocean breeze coming in through the balcony door, the smell of the salty air refreshing and calming.

The feel of her soft and warm skin beneath his rough, calloused palms...

Suddenly, there was commotion somewhere beyond his location. He heard gunshots and grunting, the sounds of struggle and screaming in a foreign language. Jake's heart sped up and his jaw clenched tight as he moved his head to look at the door where his captors normally entered.

There in the doorway, stood a man, in black tactical gear, pointing a rifle into the room. Behind him, a familiar face.

“Rooster, what the fuck took you so long? I'm dyin’ here.” Jake rasped, his own voice barely recognizable through the exhaustion and dryness present in his vocal chords. The man in tactical gear radioed back to what Jake presumed was the boat. He heard more fighting and gunfire and then everything ceased. A medic appeared and with him, Maverick and Coyote to help pull Jake from his restraints.

“Area secure. Target found, alive. Bringing him home.” The man said, pushing Rooster through the door. “Better hurry, they'll know we're coming in t-minus two minutes and they'll be pretty pissed we didn't bring any uranium to exchange.”

#jake seresin x oc #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #glen powell

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justabigassnerd · 2 years ago

Text

I've Got You

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 2,751

Warnings - self-harm, bullying, cancer mentions, angst, Goose mentions, mentions of death

Summary - at a low point in your life, your dad is there to help you through it

A/N - hey y'all sorry it's been a while since the last fic I've just been busy. this was an anon request and I hope I did it justice. I did do some research and I tried my best to approach this subject in a way that would be acceptable and I'm so sorry if it's not bc it was not my intention at all. as per y'all, please send requests, feedback and enjoy

Growing up, you were an outgoing and confident person. You’d be the first person to extend a hand to make new friends at school and try to make sure people were happy. Parents of your fellow pupils, when you were in preschool, had gushed to your dad about how confident and comfortable you were as a young girl when they noticed you give your dad a quick hug and disappear into the classroom while every other child clung to their parents, begging to stay with them.

However, in your final year of high school, people began to change.

Over time, girls in your grade at high school began to turn on you, listening to the whispered words of the queen bee and her gaggle of followers and you became isolated. You tried everything and anything to get someone, anyone to talk to you but everyone turned away from you. You refused to let anyone see that they were getting to you. You were a Mitchell. Mitchells are tough and you knew your dad wouldn’t want you getting upset over something so trivial. You tried to remain tough, but your defences came crumbling down when you reached the security of your bedroom. Your only friend was Bradley, but he was a year older than you, at college, and incredibly pissed off at your dad so it was near impossible to communicate with him. You were sure he hated you too for your dad pulling his papers and you couldn’t blame him. He had every right to be mad.

As the noises and voices in your head grew louder, you started searching for ways to quiet them down, even for just a moment. You tried and failed multiple different ways to keep yourself calm and level. You couldn’t talk to your dad, he was in the middle of dealing with your Uncle Ice’s cancer scare, both men waiting with bated breath for the test results to come back. So, with all his focus on Iceman, you faded into the background, the noise in your head almost unbearable at this point.

One evening, after your shower you caught a glimpse of your razor sitting snuggly inside your shower caddy, gleaming against the bright light of the bathroom as you stared at it. You tried distracting yourself, splashing your face with cold water before changing into your pyjamas but the object continued to call out to you making you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to banish the thoughts from your head until they became too much.

Over the coming days, the bathroom and your razor became your escape, the only way for you to temporarily forget what you had been through during the day. Maverick had noticed that you’d been pulling away slightly and had asked if everything was okay, but you were quick to tell him that you were just busy with school work and didn’t really have time to hang out with people while you prepped for your exams. That weekend, Iceman had invited you and your dad around for a barbecue in his garden since it was almost summer, and the San Diego weather was exceptionally gorgeous.

“Have you noticed that y/n wears a lot of hoodies lately?” The hoarse voice of Iceman cuts through to Maverick who had been staring intently at his beer bottle. Maverick winced at his wingman’s voice, sore from the constant coughing fits that attacked the pilot. Maverick glanced across the garden to where you were sat with Iceman’s wife Sarah and a friend of hers, remaining silent as the two women chatted. He then briefly glanced up at the sky, unsurprised to see no clouds in the sky which made him realise how out of place you looked sat next to Sarah and her friend in an oversized hoodie while the two women were in sundresses.

“I also feel like I haven’t seen her much recently either.” Maverick thinks aloud, glancing over at Iceman who sips on a glass of water.

“You should talk to her, Mav. Maybe she needs her dad and just doesn’t know it yet.” Iceman says as he and Maverick watch you carefully, both men realising your smile seemed forced and didn’t meet your eyes in the same way it used to. You used to love spending time at the Kazansky household, usually sticking with Iceman and chatting with him while simultaneously teasing your dad. Iceman figured you chose to sit with Sarah because he’d figure out something wasn’t right too quickly. He was good at reading people, and it was something he had relied on a lot in his lifetime. In taking a step back and just observing, Maverick was able to pinpoint behaviours he’d never seen from you before and could feel the worry tightening his chest with each passing second.

“Mav. Breathe. It’ll be okay. Just, make her feel safe and loved like I know you do.” Iceman urges gently, resting a friendly hand on Maverick’s shoulder and squeezing it softly, fighting the hoarseness of his voice to comfort his wingman. Maverick nods lightly, putting his beer bottle down before crossing over to where you were sitting.

“Come on squirt, let’s head home. We’ve bothered these fine people enough.” Maverick says, throwing a teasing wink in Sarah’s direction who laughs and rolls her eyes.

“You mean you’ve bothered Tom too much. y/n has been an angel like usual.” Sarah says as you get up bidding the two women goodbye with a soft voice and a small smile before crossing the garden to Iceman and hugging him quickly.

“Bye Uncle Ice.” You whisper, pulling away almost as quick as you initiated the hug, barely giving him time to reciprocate.

“Goodbye, y/n/n.” Iceman says, a small smile on his face yet it couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes at how fast you pulled away from the embrace. Maverick muttered a goodbye to Iceman, giving him a hug and clap on the back before exiting the Kazansky household. You climb onto the back of your dad’s motorbike and wrap your arms around his waist loosely.

“Hey, tight grip kid I can’t risk you falling off.” Maverick says, taking your wrist softly to pull your arm further around him but stopping instantly when he felt you flinch and lets go.

“I got it.” You mumble, tightening your grip around his waist as he flips the kickstand up and begins the journey home. When he pulls into the drive, he turns the engine off and kicks the kickstand back down as you climb off the back of the motorbike. You wait at the front door for Maverick to unlock the door since he was the only one out of the two of you to bring the house keys with you. The second the door is opened, you make a beeline towards the stairs, but Maverick is quick to call you back, making you stop in your tracks and turn to face him as he closes and locks the door behind him.

“Can we speak in the living room, please?” Maverick asks gently, waiting patiently for you to nod lightly and head into the living room with Maverick following behind. Both of you sit on the sofa, a small space separating the two of you.

“Is everything okay, dad?” You ask quietly, worried you were about to receive some bad news.

“That’s actually what I wanted to ask you. I haven’t seen you much recently, and I’ve noticed you wear hoodies a lot more than you used to, especially in this weather when everyone else is in t-shirts.” Maverick asks, making you immediately avert eye contact, focusing on your hands as you instantly start fiddling with your hoodie toggles.

“I mean, you’re the kind of guy to wear a jacket in the middle of summer. I don’t think you’re in much of a position to judge, are you?” You ask weakly, a feeble attempt at a chuckle escaping your lips.

“Yeah, I was asking for that one. But I am worried about you, sweetheart. You’ve locked yourself away and I just want to help. You can tell me anything, you know that don’t you?” Maverick says softly, his eyes filled with worry as he watches you carefully. You pressed your lips shut, not wanting to tell your dad what was going on with you when he already had enough on his plate with Iceman’s possible cancer, Carole passing away recently and Bradley cutting off all contact.

“I’m fine dad, just stressed about school.” You say, plastering a smile on your face to convince your dad that you’re okay.

“Sweetheart. This is a safe space; you can tell me whatever is upsetting you. I know it’s not school because you would’ve gone to Ice about it. He’s always helped you with school work.” Maverick says, his voice never raising or showing any more than his genuine concern.

“I know Uncle Ice is dealing with a lot right now. Waiting for his test results must be terrifying and I didn’t want to bother him.” You say, grabbing at the first excuse that came into your head.

“We both know Ice prefers to be busy and doing stuff when he’s awaiting big news, regardless of whether it’s good or bad news. He would’ve loved to help you with your work. Please tell me what’s wrong, y/n.” Maverick urges softly, his worry reaching an all-time high as you briefly glance at him.

“You’ll hate me.” You whisper, your voice cracking as some tears make their way out of their ducts.

“y/n, I promise you, there is nothing you could say to me right now that would make me hate you.” Maverick says, watching you carefully as you think over his words, taking a deep breath before you speak.

“Recently, a lot of girls at school started picking on me. At first, it was manageable, just whispers in the hallways but they started spreading rumours and I lost all my friends. I felt so alone, no one likes me at school anymore. I know it shouldn’t bother me, but it does. I just hate it so much.” You say, a tear rolling down your cheek as you speak. Maverick reaches out for your hand, pausing when your hand twitches away from his.

“Is there more?” Maverick questions quietly, warning signs flashing in his head at your behaviour, remembering how you reacted on the motorbike as well.

“I started… hurting myself. The noises were just so loud in my head that it was the only way to make it quiet even if it was just for a moment. I just wanted the noise to stop.” You say, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks as your dad wastes no time pulling you into a hug, a hand running up and down your back as he presses repeated kisses to the top of your head.

“Oh y/n/n. I’ve got you.” He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears that threatened to fall at your confession.

“I’m sorry, dad. Please don’t hate me.” You say through your tears, clinging to your dad as he shakes his head against the top of your head.

“You have nothing to apologise for, sweetheart. I couldn’t hate you for this. I’m the one who didn’t notice you were struggling.” Maverick says gently, yet firmly as he squeezes you just that little bit tighter.

“You were busy with so much. I didn’t want to bother you. I just wanted the noise to stop.” You whimper, burying your face in your dad’s chest as Maverick let the tears fall, gently cradling your head to his chest.

“Please don’t ever feel like you’re bothering me. Not about something like that. I love you so, so, so much and I hate that you went through this alone because I wasn’t paying attention to you. I should’ve done better.” Maverick says, his voice breaking as he spoke, giving away to you that he was crying which made you cry harder. You made your dad, the strongest person you know, your hero, cry.

“It wasn’t your fault dad. You’ve been dealing with so much.” You say, reaching up to wipe at your eyes with your hoodie sleeve.

“But I could’ve lost you.” Maverick whispers, every worst-case scenario now flashing through his head.

“I didn’t want to die. I just wanted something to stop everything going on in my head. I swear.” You say urgently, not wanting your dad to think the worst, although you were sure it was too late as you looked up at his face. He remains silent for a moment before speaking.

“I know how that feels.” He says, keeping you in his embrace as you pull away slightly to look up at him.

“You do?” You question softly, unable to imagine your dad in such a state.

“You were only little when Goose died. But when he did, I practically shut down. I stopped training for a while, and I could not stop thinking about how I could’ve, how I should’ve been better for him. I thought about hurting myself then. Just to shut the voices up.” Maverick says, lifting a hand to swipe your tears away.

“How were you strong enough to not hurt yourself?” You ask, you were sure you tried everything you could’ve done to not get to that stage, yet you still did.

“Viper sent me to therapy after the accident. I didn’t think it would work at first but once they got me to open up, it helped a lot more than I could’ve ever thought. Maybe, if you want, we’ll look into finding a therapist for you, to help you through this. You’re not alone, y/n. Not while you have me, Ice, Slider, and the others.” Maverick says, running a hand through your hair. You lift your hand to swipe away at any excess tears Maverick missed and your hoodie sleeve slipped down an inch, exposing part of a scar and Maverick was quick to look away. You hadn’t chosen to show your scars and so he wasn’t going to impose anything on you unless you made the decision. After wiping your tears, you gingerly lift a hand and wipe at Maverick’s face, making a soft smile appear on his face.

“Thank you for being here for me dad.” You say quietly, making Maverick nod.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart. It’s my job. I just want you to know that I’ll always be here for you. You don’t have to be afraid to tell me anything, no matter what’s going on with me. You can always come to me for help.” Maverick says, his gaze never leaving you as he speaks, making you nod in understanding.

“I know dad.” You whisper before a small yawn slips past your lips, it was then that Maverick had noticed that the sun was almost gone, and night had fallen.

“Let’s get to bed, it’s been a long evening. We’ll talk more in the morning.” Maverick says, getting to his feet and waiting for you before the two of you head upstairs. You enter your room while Maverick enters his, both of you getting ready for bed before Maverick knocks on your bedroom door, asking for permission to enter. He finds you already curled up under your covers and as he bends down to bid you goodnight, you speak up.

“Stay. Please.” You whisper, watching as your dad nods and you quickly move over to make room for your dad. Once he’s settled next to you, you curl into his side, allowing him to wrap an arm around you and allowing your eyes to slip closed.

“I love you dad.” You whisper in the darkness.

“I love you too, y/n.” Maverick replies, beginning the action of running his hand up and down your back which lulls you to sleep almost instantly, the final thought running through your head being how grateful you were for your dad, and how much you loved him.

Maverick watched you sleep for a moment, listening to your soft breaths as he continued to run his hand up and down your back. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much you went through without him knowing. But as his eyes slipped closed for the night, he swore that he was going to do better by you, and he was going to make sure you never felt alone again. Because no one deserves to go through that.

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raindownforme · 9 months ago

Text

The Garden

Charlie Slimecicle x reader (she/they used)

cw: sickness, coughing etc. hospital setting, blood.

God it hurt.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to sit up. It hurt to listen to his voice echoing through the vents in the shared home.

y/n wasn’t sure when it had started hurting. She knew that a few weeks ago she had adored hearing his voice when she woke up and when she walked around the house and when she went to sleep. But at some point she had started to feel as though her chest was restricted every time he was near, like there were coils of something wrapped around her lungs and heart that throbbed whenever she thought about him or heard him or was near him.

Which sucked, because Charlie was two rooms down the hall.

Because of whatever was happening, y/n’s morning routine had changed a bit. Every morning she would get up and get into the shower in the bathroom directly across from her room, run the shower, and cough up blood into a tissue where hopefully no body could hear her. And, after what felt like a few minutes, she would get into the already running water and rinse whatever sickness she could off her skin.

Today, after struggling to sit up without wincing and cough without being in noticeable pain, she stood in the warm water, letting it run over their face and down to the floor. She felt a bit guilty, wasting water this early in the morning, but she knew she’d rather pay a higher water bill than worry her housemates.

After getting out of the shower, she got dressed into the comfy clothes she had brought into the bathroom with her and peeked out of the doorway. She could hear someone coming down the wooden floors, but didn’t see who it was yet, so y/n hurriedly went back into her room and shut the door. She let out a heavy sigh, feeling her chest restrict more as Charlie’s laugh echoed through the open house. The footsteps got louder, and y/n moved away from the door. She could hear the footsteps pass her door and go into the room next to hers, meaning it was probably Ted.

y/n moved lightly over towards her dirty laundry and tossed in the old pajamas. She went and opened the blinds, letting in the natural San Diego sunlight flood the room. She moved over to her streaming set up; a few monitors, her her pc, a comfy baby blue chair and a tacky keyboard. She ran her hand over the keys as the computer warmed up. y/n was only a part time streamer, but she didn’t have a shift at her in-person job for a few more days, so she would have time to edit and/or stream today. But even then, with whatever was making her sick getting worse, she doubted she would feel good enough to go in.

She was startled from her thoughts by someone knocking on the door. She whipped her head around to look at the door. “Come in.” She tried to speak loudly, but the words scratched at her throat and she did her best to suppress a cough that wanted to come up.

Ted opened the door and closed it slightly behind himself. “A couple of us were going to go to the store but I don’t know if I should invite you now.”

“Why not?” Talking tore at her throat, like something sharp was stuck in the flesh and working its way up.

“I know you won’t say it but you’ve sounded sick for a week now. I heard you coughing this morning.” y/n felt her face grow warm and she looked away from Ted. He walked towards her slowly and placed the back of his hand gently against her forehead.

“Ted what are you doing.”

“Something parental. I’d like to think I’m the dad of us.”

“You grill something one fucking time.”

“And I’m good at it.” He took his hand away and frowned. “You don’t seem feverish.”

“Cause I’m not sick.” She swallowed another cough as she felt her throat grow hot and scratchy. She really hoped she wouldn’t bleed out of her mouth in front of Ted. She’d been fine not telling anyone so far.

“y/n, I hate to ask you this, but as your father-“

“Not my father-“

“Shut up young lady. I feel required to ask you if this is morning sickness-?“

She grabbed the box of tissues off her desk and started hitting Ted with it. He laughed, jokingly blocking them, and she laughed too, until the laughs turned into a coughing fit. She turned away from Ted, hunching over so he couldn’t see her, but he still tried to help.

“y/n you can’t breathe like that sit up. Please sit up.” Ted handed y/n the tissues and she took a few to cover her mouth. She began coughing more as she sat up straight. Even worse, she felt something dislodge from her throat and more blood came with out. Ted stepped away from her for a minute to grab something, then came back and gently rubbed a hand against her back.

y/n slowly stopped coughing, and looked down into her fist of bloodied tissues to see several petals and thorns nestled into the paper, which somehow wasn’t unusual now. She clutched her hands shut before Ted could see. He got up and handed her both a water bottle and the small trash can from next her bed that was chalk full of more bloodied tissue paper. He looked between her and the trash can.

“y/n?”

“Y-yeah Ted?” Her voice was horse as she tried to swallow the water.

“Why are you coughing up flower petals?”

She froze, water still at her lips. She wasn’t sure how to explain, and thankfully she didn’t have to as Ted’s girlfriend, Maddi, appeared at the door.

“Is everything okay? It’s been a minute since you came up.” Ted looked down at y/n again, then walked over to Maddi. The couple began whispering about something and y/n heard Maddi gasp. She came over and draped a loose hug over y/n’s shoulders. “I’ll get you some cough medicine okay? And we can take you to a doctor later.”

y/n didn’t have the energy to object, especially not to Maddi. She simply nodded and let Maddi walk back over to Ted. They both whispered amongst themselves, before Maddi kissed Ted on the cheek and walked out the open door. He looked over at y/n again and she stared at the tall man.

“I’ll get you something for your throat. And I’ll make that rice thing you like for dinner tonight. Okay?” y/n nodded. “It’s me Maddi, Noah, Cooper, and Traves, so Charlie is gonna stay here.”

At the mention of his name, y/n fell into another violent coughing fit, this time blood coming from their mouth before they had the ability to reach for a tissue. Ted ran over to their side with the tissues in hand, watching them cough flowers and thorns covered in dark red liquid into their open hands. y/n gasped before erupting into more coughs.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Ted shoved tissues into one of their hands so they could cover their mouth while doing his best to clean off the other hand. He gently picked up the bloodied petals and stared at them in confusion. They were large white petals accompanied by small, black, razor-sharp thorns. He carefully dropped them into a tissue and put them in the trash can. “Isn’t your throat cut up?”

y/n nodded with their eyes closed, trying to not cry. Ted rubbed their shoulder for a minute, trying to find some way to soothe them. y/n swallowed the lump she could feel in her throat. “You should go to the store. I’ll be fine here.”

He contemplated for a moment, before nodding. “Alright. It’ll probably be an hour or so, we’re just going to Vons. Just text us if you need anything.”

y/n nodded as he walked away. Ted gently closed the door behind himself and walked down the hallway, past his room, to the room next door. He knocked on the door, and Charlie answered promptly with a smile. Ted could hear sound coming faintly from his headphones, meaning he was probably too involved in a stream to have heard the recent commotion.

“Hey Ted what’s up?”

“We’re going to head to the store, until I’m back could you keep an eye out for y/n?”

Charlie felt as though his chest could burst at the mere mention of her name, but simply nodded as he tried to swallow a blush. “Y-yeah. She okay?”

Ted pursed his lips and shook his head, unsure of what to tell Charlie. Charlie wasn’t sure what to say either. He wanted nothing more than to rush to her side and comfort her, but if she had fought Ted so much on his help, she surely wouldn’t him to mention anything to anyone else, and Charlie was in the middle of working, and no one was even sure what was wrong. Or if she knew, she wasn’t talking about.

Charlie nodded. “I’ll keep an ear out for her. Should I do anything?”

“I’m not sure. She’s just been coughing a lot. Maybe water I guess.” Ted breathed in, trying to stand taller and not act so stressed. “But we’ll be back soon. It’s just that you’re the only one here with her.”

Charlie genuinely felt flushed, knowing full well his face was bright red. Of course the thought of him and y/n being alone together would normally make him much more giddy than he wanted to admit, but now didn’t seem the time.

Ted waved as he walked off and Charlie shut the door gently. He went back to sit on his chair, watching the twitch chat fly by as he put on his headphones, making sure one ear was left uncovered. He unmuted himself in the discord call he had been in and continued on his game, trying to give off that nothing had happened.

In the other room y/n sat listening to Charlie laugh. She had moved from sitting on her chair to laying on the floor, finding that the stretching of her back helped her breathe easier. Charlie’s voice was always comforting, it was bright and joyous and always full of laughter. She really wished that right now it brought that same comfort, but every laugh wound her lungs tighter. She closed her eyes and sighed. She felt light headed, and soon she felt herself drift off into unconsciousness.

Roughly 45 minutes later, Charlie set down his headphones and put his computer to sleep. His game had ended on a high note, which he was thankful for, but now he felt he had to prepare himself. He took a deep breath, then walked towards y/n’s door. He wanted to knock, but took quick notice of the fact that the only sound in the house was himself. He paused, then went and turned the door handle.

He gasped seeing y/n laying on the floor. She looked almost peaceful, but Charlie could just barely hear the raspy breathing. “y/n?” He walked closer to her, panic beginning to set in. Her lips were slightly blue, and why was she on the floor in the first place? Charlie knelt down by her and picked up her hand, trying his best to find a pulse, but quickly realized he didn’t know how. But he studied her hands; they were small compared to his, and her nails were more well-taken care of, but he could see a faint red trace of something in the lines of her skin and the edge of her nails. He gently dropped her hand and reached for his phone in his back pocket. He went through all his contacts until he found Ted, and quickly dialed the number, putting the phone up to his ear so y/n wouldn’t be awoken by another voice. Luckily, Ted picked up after the first few rings.

“Charlie?” His voice crackled through the line and Charlie figured they must still be in the store.

“Hey Ted, so I went to check on her and she’s asleep but on the floor.”

“Okay. Does she have a fever? How’s her breathing?”

“Uh. She’s breathing?”

“Alright. Well They’re at the checkout so we should be back soon.”

It was at this point y/n began to stir, slowly realizing that there was someone else in the room. Sleepily, she reached up and patted her hand against his chest. “Ted?”

“Oh Ted she’s awake!” Charlie moved the phone to speaker so that Ted could hear y/n speak. “Hey Ted’s on the phone.”

She still seemed dazed. “Then who-“

“Charlie.” He took her hand in his and rested it against his own chest. He watched y/n’s eyes widen in recognition, then watched as she turned on her side and started coughing violently. “Oh SHIT.”

“Charlie? Charlie!?” Ted was slightly forgotten as Charlie hurriedly tried to get y/n to sit up and stop coughing blood on to the hardwood floor. He pulled her into his chest to try and help sturdy her, and watched in horror as she choked up blood and flower pieces into both her hands and onto Charlie’s shirt. The coughing didn’t seem to slow at all, so Charlie stepped away for possibly one second to try and grab both water and the plastic trash bin.

He watched as y/n sat hunched over it, not looking towards him. The coughing began to slow, and he remembered that he had been on the phone with Ted. He reached back towards the call. “Ted they started coughing up blood-“

“I know we’ll be there soon. Noah, GUN IT.”

The call disconnected and he turned back to the girl. She was shivering, but still hunched over the trash can. Charlie looked down at his shirt, then towards the ground where he had been sitting. “Holy fuck. Dude that’s a whole flower what the fuck.”

“Charlie-“ she choked again at his name and began coughing again, spitting out more and more large clumps of petals, and eventually whole flowers. He held his hands around her shoulders, not sure of how to help her. The second she stopped coughing, he leaned her backwards and handed her the water.

“Listen when Ted gets here we’re taking you to a doctor. You’re gonna be just fine Alright?”

she nodded, trying to lean away from him. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe she didn’t want help, or his help specifically. Nevertheless Charlie sat nearby, waiting to see if she needed anything. The poor boy was worried sick, but he didn’t know how to tell her. He wanted nothing more than to hold her close make her smile, even covered in her blood. But still Charlie gazed at the girl, unsure of what to do or how to help.

y/n took a loud, shaky breath and it startled Charlie. He scooted across the floor closer to her and draped an arm behind her to support her. Her eyes seemed tired and her lips were turning a purplish color. Charlie could hear car doors slam outside and he prayed it was Ted.

“Charlie?”

He could hear the front door open and foot steps head clumsily up the stairs. “Yeah y/n?”

“I can’t breathe.” They coughed more, blood pooling in their mouth and splattering across more of Charlie’s clothes, accompanied by clumps of flowers.

“Hey y/n wait-“ they fully collapsed on top of Charlie as Ted burst through the door. The two boys stared at each other for a moment, before scrambling to get her into the car downstairs.

y/n woke up in a sterile white room with a tube down her throat and unfamiliar clothing on her person. She could hear the heart monitor next to her speed up as she clawed at the plastic tube. She felt like crying, but couldn’t make any sound. y/n could hear someone rush into the room but couldn’t see them. Her arms thrashed for a minute before she felt a familiar hand pull her down. A nurse ( she presumed ) took the tube out of her throat and helped her sit up. She could see now, even through the bleary tears, and could see Traves standing next to her while Maddi sat nearby. Traves smiled wide and nearly tackled the poor girl.

“y/n! You’re okay!”

She nodded and Traves released her. She looked over to Maddi, who gave her a gentle smile. “W-Where’s-“

“The boys are out in the hall. Noah was doing paper work, Cooper went to get coffee, and the other two are fighting.”

“Yeah.” She looked back to Traves. “Ted kept telling Charlie to go home but he didn’t-“

y/n sat up forcefully, trying to not cough the blood onto Traves, but unfortunately they couldn’t avoid the hospital blankets. The deep red liquid seeped into the thin linens and Traves hurried around the room to find some sort of bowl. Thankfully Maddi pulled put a plastic container from under the bed and she was able to get y/n to lean over it enough. Traves ran out of the room to find some sort of medical professional, and two boys came storming in from the outside. Charlie watched in horror as y/n coughed up more and more flowers and thorns. It felt uncomfortable to watch, seeing as he was still wearing the same blood.

A doctor pushed past him and came to y/n’s side. They fiddled with the monitors and machines until she stopped coughing. The nurses handed her water and napkins and took away the bowl of blood and plants. The doctor looked at her, then up at her housemates. “If you’d mind giving us a moment?”

Ted nodded and pulled Charlie out of the room. They all stood in the hallway, watching through the window as y/n and the doctor talked. She seemed to shake her head a lot and didn’t give a lot of vocal responses.

Ted pulled Maddi close, an arm draped over her shoulders, and looked over to Charlie. He was staring at his hands as he tried to scratch the blood off of his nails and skin. Ted sighed, “Charlie, you should go home and change. I doubt anything else will get better. And you’re still wearing blood.”

Charlie grabbed the fabric and examined it. The blood was starting to dry and slightly crust over. A deep crimson color had stained both the cotton and his skin. He didn’t seem to react. Noah walked up to him, keys in hand, and patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll take you home.” Noah looked up at Ted. “We’ll be back soon.”

The two walked away and the other Cooper stared into the window. They could see the doctor talking but y/n didn’t seem to respond to them. The doctor walked out and turned to the waiting group. They walked up to them, holding a clipboard.

“y/n is experiencing something called Hanahaki disease. It’s extremely rare, but curable.”

“Well what’s causing it?” Cooper sounded almost angry.

“Typically, unrequited love. I know it doesn’t make sense, but this is a serious case. If she continues to refuse treatment, she will die.”

“Wait she’s refusing?”

The doctor nodded and Cooper pushed past to run into the room. Traves shouted after him, but they all followed him in anyways. Cooper was standing on the side of her bed as she stared wide eyed at him.

“What the fuck do you mean refusing?”

“I don’t want the surgery.” Her voice was scratchy and she flinched as she talked.

“You are out of your fucking mind if you think you’re dying on us.”

“I’m not trying to. I’d rather die than the other option.”

“What other option? There is no other option y/n. You’re getting that surgery!”

“No I’m not! Did they tell you what’ll happen if I get it?”

“You breathe normally? You stop coughing up fucking plants?”

“I’ll forget him. I’ll forget all about him and it’ll be like he never existed to me.”

“And is that really so bad? Is forgetting one person the worst thing in the fucking world? y/n you’re dying.”

“Cooper please I can’t forget him.”

“It’s just a guy-“

“No it’s not!”

“It’s not like it’s one of us!” y/n froze and the room went quiet. In a state of embarrassment and frustration, she began to stare down at her hands, almost avoiding everyone’s eyes. Cooper’s face fell and he glanced back to the group in the room with them. “Who is it?”

“Cooper it doesn’t-“

“Is it someone in the house? Or Schlatt? Jawsh? Please just tell us-“

“Cooper I don’t-“

“Ted?”

“Coop-“

“Traves?”

“Cooper-“

“Fucking Noah? Me? Who is it!”

“Is it Charlie?” Traves voice cut through the arguing and everyone froze. They stared at y/n, waiting for an answer, but instead she leaned over the side of the bed and began to spit out more and more blood and flowers.

“Oh holy fuck HEY HELP.” Cooper ran out the door and began shouting for a doctor. A group of nurses and young looking doctors ran through the room and ushered everyone out. They watched as they messed with the tubes and machines in panicked disarray. Traves had to look completely away from the window to avoid crying.

Ted’s face was stoic. “How did we not notice. She was sick and we didn’t notice. I sleep in the room next to hers. We all work together. We live together. “

“Charlie didn’t notice either.”

The group turned to look at Maddie in confusion. “Why would Charlie notice?”

“Ted, he’s been head over heels for her the whole time I’ve known you all. I’m surprised you didn’t notice that piece of it.”

Traves smiled and lightly shook Cooper’s arm. “This means she’s gonna be okay! Right? Charlie can tell her that he loves her and then she’ll be okay and she won’t forget him and we’ll all be fine. Right?”

No one responded as they watched the doctors walk out of y/n’s room. A nurse was still inside, checking things off on a clipboard, and they watched him as one of the doctors came up to them.

“y/n’s condition is worsening. She’s lost a lot of blood that her body doesn’t have the ability to naturally regenerate. I’m sorry, but I don’t have high hopes for her.”

“But we know the guy.” Traves almost sounded desperate. “We know the guy so he can come here and wake her up and true love it up and all of that. She has to be okay.”

The doctor looked down at the papers in their hands. “If he can get here soon. Otherwise we will have to get her into emergency surgery. Maybe an hour. But we’re going to start her on some antibiotics for now. And make sure she keeps the oxygen mask on.”

The doctor walked away and Cooper rummaged through his pockets, muttering something about going to call Noah, and then walked towards the nearest stairwell. He sighed and dialed the number. Noah picked up slowly, almost to the last ring.

“Coop?”

“Yeah hey. Uh they figured out what’s wrong.”

“Oh good! Charlie took a shower but I think he’s out. Do you need us-“

“Yeah.” Cooper swallowed whatever feeling was coming up. “Like literally as soon as you can.”

“Oh jeez okay.” Noah stood up and looked around for his keys. “Should we get anything-?”

“Okay this is gonna sound weird, but I need you to hype Charlie up.”

“To do what?”

“He needs to tell y/n he’s in love with her.”

“That’s- why?”

“I’ll explain it when you get here just get here. Like, now.”

Noah saw Charlie standing in the hallway and nodded at him to get to the door. “Okay we’re going.”

Cooper hung up the phone and the two boys lept from the house. Noah locked the front door as quickly as possible and peeled off in the suburban car. He did his best to follow traffic laws, but the anxiousness ran up and down his skin. Charlie sat next to him in the passenger seat, fiddling with anything. He couldn’t think a clear thought.

Noah cleared his voice and Charlie looked over at him. “So, can I ask.” Noah paused as he checked the mirrors for the millionth time. “Are you in love with her?”

Charlie’s face flushed bright red and he stared at the windshield. It had been a while since he forced himself to reckon with his feelings towards her, but of course he loved her. There was no denying it. He woke up every morning excited just to say hello to her and to make her laugh and to hear her talk. He’d been caught staring and gazing at her frequently, whether it was by the live stream chats or in pictures his friends took. And after a long time of trying to come to a consensus, he decided to not tell her. Of course it hurt, knowing he could never tell her, but it kept peace in the house and her in his life. “That’s kind of subjective.”

“No it’s not. It’s a question. Charlie, are you in love with y/n?”

“I- why are you even asking this?”

Charlie watched as every road sign pointing to the hospital passed. “Because Cooper called me and I think you should tell her.”

“Oh god.” Charlie’s voice was barely above a whisper. He pressed his palms against his eyes and leaned forward. “Oh god.”

The two of them didn’t talk. They didn’t turn on the radio. They just waited for the drive to be over.

Everyone in the hospital was waiting too. Ted stood pacing the wall of the room while Traves and Cooper sat by the window. Cooper kept checking his phone; a couple of their other friends had been informed of the situation and kept asking questions, but really he was just waiting for anything from Noah.

A nurse came through the room and everyone watched as she took notes of several things on a clipboard at the edge of y/n’s bed. She turned towards Ted. “We’ll have to take her down in ten minutes. It might be good to wish her luck now.”

The nurse left and Ted sighed, resting his head between his hands. “This is terrible. This is fucking terrible.”

“Noah hasn’t texted yet.” Cooper sounded grim as he stared blankly at his phone. “They were supposed to be here by now.”

“They’ll be here.” Traves’s voice was like a whisper and anyone could tell he was trying to not cry. “Noah wouldn’t let us down. Charlie wouldn’t.”

y/n gasped and all the boys looked up at her. She coughed lightly, and Ted ran to pull the oxygen mask off her face so she didn’t breathe any blood back in. Her eyes were still closed. “I-It hu-urts, Ted.”

“I know, it’ll be over soon.” Ted glanced at the clock on the wall across from him. “It’ll be all fine.”

Coopers phone rang and everyone froze. The blonde boy stared at it.

“It’s Noah.”

“Pick it up then!!”

He almost dropped it, but still was able to pick it up and put it on speaker. “Noah-?”

“Yeah we’re in here. We’re in the elevator they got mad at us for running but give it two minutes. Is she-?”

“She’s okay. She’s kind of awake.” Cooper looked over to see y/n turned towards him, doing her best to listen. He walked over to her. “y/n, Noah and Charlie are almost here okay?”

“C-char-“ she didn’t get to finish, instead choking up more flowers and vines and blood into the floor with a big splat sound. Ted tried to help hold back her hair, and as nurses came in they could hear running. Charlie came to a skidded halt in the doorway and watched in horror as they poked at the IV’s and and tubes in her arms.

“We need to take her now.” Someone in a lab coat was arguing with Ted, who refused to let them move y/n’s gurney.

“No. He will be here any second he-“ Ted looked at the doorway and sighed in relief. “Charles. Finally get over here.” He turned back to the group of doctors. “Five minutes alone. Give them five. Okay?”

A doctor (with some sort of seniority, Ted would guess) ushered out most of the medical staff, leaving just two younger doctors by the door. Charlie walked over to y/n’s side, gently taking her hand in his. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand and took a deep shaky breath.

“Hey, we’ll be right outside okay?” Charlie nodded at Ted’s words as everyone else left the room

Charlie did his best to act like he hadn’t been crying, but he knew it was difficult to hide. “Hey.” He cleared his throat and stared at y/n’s hand, glancing up to her face. She stared straight at him. “Please don’t say anything. I don’t want you to hurt yourself and I don’t want this to go bad. And I really wish that you weren’t sick somehow. I don’t even know what’s making you sick, I just wish I could fix it. Cause if I could, I’d fix it and take you out to this restaurant I found that looks out at the beach, and I’d tell you to order what ever you want and tell you how pretty you look. And I’d pay for us and then we’d go on a walk down a walking only street because I know you love those and I’d find this secret looking corner to sit in and I’d sit there and tell you how much I love you. And if you let me I’d hold your hand just like this.” He gave a half-hearted laugh as a few tears fell from his eyes. He laced their fingers together, pulling them upwards to press a soft kiss to her knuckles. He held her hand close to himself now, studying every feature of her face. She had been crying to, but was yet to say anything back per Charlie’s request. “Every where we went I would hold your hand and do little chivalrous things for you like kissing your hand, because that’s what you do when you love someone, and I love you so fucking much. I have loved you for so long it is brutal. And I’m sorry if this isn’t what you need but I need you to stick around so I can take you to that little restaurant and the brick street okay? Please?”

Charlie took his hands back, wiping away the tears from his cheeks and glasses. He opened his eyes to see that y/n had set aside the breathing mask and was now reaching their arms upwards. “Charlie.” Their voice came out soft and smooth, as if they hadn’t been vomiting plants. Charlie’s shoulders shook as he tried not to cry, but he still leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up into his chest as much as the bed would allow.

“Please, please don’t die on me.”

“Charlie I love you so much.” Her voice was almost like a whisper, but it was the best thing Charlie had heard all day.

He sat up slightly, enough to look at her smiling at him. “Are- wait- really?”

She nodded at him and moved to press a small kiss to his cheek but Charlie shifted and she landed on his lips. Charlie took one hand to pull her closer, relishing in the feeling. At some point they broke apart, smiling as they leaned their foreheads against each other.

They heard hurried footsteps and Charlie stood up straighter to watch Ted, Cooper, and Noah trip over themselves and nearly fall. He felt y/n squeeze his hand, and he ran his thumb over her knuckles again.

Ted pointed between the two. “How is- is she- is it-“

“Take a breath Ted.” Charlie smiled softly at y/n then looked back to Ted. “I told her. You can take her now I guess.”

One of the doctors from the doorway spoke up; “well we will have to take a few scans of her chest to be sure there’s no further damage, but if she’s all clear she’ll be good to go home in a few days.

y/n nodded at the doctor and they left the room. Charlie looked around at the group, confused.

“I thought she needed surgery. You wanted me to tell her that I loved her because she was going into surgery.” He looked at y/n, then directly to Cooper. “Did I just get boofed.”

“Did we forget to tell him?” Ted looked over at Noah, who only shrugged. He looked back to Charlie. “Her being sick, okay this is gonna sound dumb, but she was so in love with you it physically made her sick. Like plants in her lungs.”

“But I loved her! Shouldn’t that have cancelled it out?”

“She didn’t know that.”

Realization washed over Charlie’s face, and he turned to y/n again. He pulled her into a tight hug. “I am so sorry. I literally could have prevented my this I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She giggled for what felt like the first time in forever. “Let’s wait I til we get home for this conversation.”

“Yeah.” He released her slightly and moved to whisper just in her ear. “Just for the record, I am so happy that you love me, and I’m even happier you’re okay.”

A/N: HI! Yes I am posting fancition I wrote in highschool/ a year ago but thats also bcs younger me would have wanted this to be seen. I just finished my second year of college. shits crazy. lowkey hooking up with a felon but thats beside the point. anyways if you actually read the note gimme a tbh about this one im not sure how i feel about it. also sorry about the pronoun switching, I use she/they so i have a reallllly bad habit of being inconsistent when i write lol.

#charlie slimecicle my beloved #dsmp x reader #charlie slimecicle x reader #slimecicle x reader #charlie slimecicle #slimecicle #smp live #smplive #smpllive #smp live x reader #origins smp #origins smp x reader #generation loss #genloss #generation loss x reader

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dingochef · 2 years ago

Text

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Angst with a Happy Ending, Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Summary: You and Jake geek out at the fly in. Later things get heated and you start to realize you might be in over your head with the feelings you're developing for Jake.

Word Count: 2.6k

Masterlist

Chapter 9

Chapter 10: Vintage

Group Chat: Your favorite hoes

Members: Lydia, Beth

Lydia: How was the date with Bob, just Bob? Any good action?

Beth: It was good.

Beth: Real good.

You: Details!

Beth: Let's just say he has a bit of an oral fixation and he's definitely more of a giver, 😉

Lydia: It all makes sense. Like he knew he had to be really great at eating pussy to make up for some of the initial blandness

Beth: You're so vulgar

Lydia: But you love me for it, 😍

You: Still waters run deep…..like his tongue deep inside you

Beth: Not you too.

Beth: Speaking of the devil, he's calling. Buh-bye

It's Saturday morning and you're pulling together the last few items for your day bag for the air show. You're looking forward to spending the day with Jake and checking out the vintage aircraft. Jake is picking you up here shortly, he mentioned something about having the better car for today and purposely remained vague on details.

I'm looking out the window when you see a turquoise vintage Corvette convertible pull up with the fabric top up. You can't see who is driving as the car stops at the curb in front of your house. A familiar head of blond hair followed by a leather bomber jacket with mission patches unfolds out of the driver's seat. Jake is of course wearing his aviators. He just smiles wide and stretches his arms out presenting the car, he shouts,

"A vintage ride to a vintage air show!" as you walk out to meet him. He runs around the car to greet you with a hug and a kiss and opens the door for you.

"Ooh, vintage manners too," you coo as you get into the car. He shuts your door and walks around the car and climbs into the driver seat. He starts the car and you are off towards Chula Vista where the fly in is being held.

"You know, if you had told me you had a 61 Corvette when we first met, I might have been nicer to you," you say as he pulls on the freeway heading south from San Diego, hand trailing on the dash.

"The lady knows her cars," Jake replies.

"Of course I do, I'm the daughter of an automotive engineer from Michigan. In fact my dad worked for GM."

"And yet you drive a Honda CR-V, the store brand vanilla ice cream of cars." He teases back.

"Yeah, it's definitely utilitarian and I got a good deal on it from a friend who was moving overseas. Besides, I drive way too many miles for my job to have anything like this."

The rest of the drive passes quickly and soon you're pulling into the lot at the general aviation airport hosting the event. Jake and you walk up to the entrance and grab a map,

"So where do we want to go first? Ooh, they have a World War 2 section," you ask scanning the map. Jake hooks his chin on your shoulder to peek at the map. He scans the map and says,

"That sounds good, we'll have to make sure to see the fighters," Jake says pointing at the map from over your shoulder.

"I wouldn't dare miss that, dear," you say to Jake as you kiss his cheek. It comes so naturally to you that the intimacy of the gesture doesn't register till you start walking handing hand towards where the World War II planes are arranged on the tarmac. This has definitely moved past fuck buddies and you try to convince yourself it's just friends with benefits, ignoring the slight panic that flutters up in your gut.

There are dozens of aircraft from World War II lined up on the tarmac. You and Jake find yourself gravitating to the bombers.

“These always intrigued me because of just how many people were in a crew, how many people it took to fly these and hit targets. All of that stuff we can just do with one or two people now," you say as you wander around a B-29.

“I’ve always liked the WWII bombers for the nose art, mostly the pin up girls to be honest. I had a few posters of some of them on your wall in high school. Closest I could get to putting up a bikini model poster without my mom freaking out,” Jake replies.

You laugh at the thought of Jake as horny teenager looking at pin up girls for hormonal inspiration.

“So, you’re saying you like the pin up look.”

“I’d have you on the side of my jet, but I think the Navy’s not going to be into that,” he leans in closer and whispers,

“But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t ravage you the second I saw you all gussied up like that.”

He points up to the classic nose art of a woman astride a bomb, skimpy red dress and heels, and Jessica Rabbit style red hair. You make a mental note for later.

You’ve traversed most of the air show and you finally get to fighter jet row after lunch from a food truck. The way Jake kept catching your eye as you were trying to eat a ridiculously large Italian sausage made you nearly choke on it with laughter.

“You’re going to kill me if you keep that up,” you joke as you bump shoulders with him.

“Whatever do you mean? I just see a woman really enjoying a large girthy sausage,” he replies back with an innocent look.

As you walk through the planes it's apparent whoever curated the show did a great job with lining the aircraft up in chronological order. It’s easy to see the evolution of the planes. Jake stops when we get to a F-14 Tomcat.

“Maverick flew one of these when he was at Top Gun,” he says.

Climbing up the step ladder you check out the cockpit. All the same elements that are in the jets you work on are there, but they're so rudimentary compared to what we equip aircraft with now.

“It’s like looking back at a stone hammer versus buying one at Home Depot,” you say. “There’s actually a few guys I work with who worked on the F-16s around the time this was made by Grunnam.”

“It does give me a tiny, tiny” he pinches his fingers together, “bit more respect for the old man to have shot down as many planes as he has when he had this to work with.”

The afternoon is getting hot so you call it and head back to Jake’s car, the turquoise is easy to spot in the field of cars. As we get closer, Jake looks at you and asks,

“How about I put the top down and we can drive back by the coast?”

“That sounds good,” you quickly find a hair tie out of your purse and pull your hair back to keep it from flying around in the wind as we drive. After navigating through town you finally make it out to the main coast road that will take you back to Coronado Island. The wind noise is so loud you can’t really talk, but you find yourself looking at Jake a lot of the way back and just how beautiful he is especially with the setting sun behind him as we drive. Every once in a while he catches you staring and smiles that panty dropper smile of his.

You see a sign for a scenic turnout and you point it out to Jake. He nods, turning the car into the gravel lot and pulls to the far end of the lot. You get out to stretch our legs and watch the sunset. As you lean against the front of the car Jake wraps his arm around you and you curl into his side as the cool ocean breeze rolls in. The sun slowly sets and Jake turns to kiss you. You stand up between Jake's legs where he is leaning on against the car. He is finally at a height where you can access his lips easily. You reach in his bomber jacket and wrap your arms around his back. He grabs your hips and pulls you in close. The kiss deepens and you can feel that familiar tug low in your belly. Grabbing the lapels of his jacket you pull him in closer. The kissing and sliding of hands over each other's bodies starts to build, the heat between you rising.

Jake stands up to his full height and gently pushes you away and runs to the back of the car and starts to pull the top of the car into place. His plan becomes clear when he sits down in the passenger seat and pats his lap. You're thankful you're wearing a dress. Jake is already hauling his pants and boxers down and stroking his cock. He pulls a condom out of his pocket and rolls it on as he watches you walk up to the open door, lean down and slip your underwear off and climb in. As you straddle his lap Jake closes the door. He reaches in between you and grabs the base of his cock and guides himself into you. You sink down on him as far as you can. He pants out between groans,

"Fuck, El, so good."

Jake reaches up to push the denim jacket you have over your sundress off and slide the straps of your dress and bra down exposing your breasts. His firms hands slide up and palm your tits as he works each nipple with his mouth and rough fingers.

The pleasure of his mouth and hands becomes too much and you start to ride him, desperate to quell the ache between your thighs. Your moans get louder and breathier and Jake pants out a few words,

"God damn, El, ride my cock."

His hands have slipped down your side and are holding the globes of your ass. He pulls your dress over your hips and kneads at the flesh of your ass.

Fucking his head to yours he whispers,

"Such a pretty ass, makes me want to slap and spank it."

He grabs and holds you still against his cock as he squeezes your butt hard.

You clench around him at the thought of his big hands leaving red hand prints on your smooth flesh.

He chuckles, having picked up on your response to his dirty thoughts.

"Oh El, you dirty girl. You want me to slap your ass, make it hurt a little, hurt in a good way?"

You can't control the whine that escapes your throat while you rock into him harder. Taking your response as permission he pulls back his hand and lands a resounding slap on your soft flesh. The sound is deafening in the closed car. You whine in pleasure at the flash of pain.

"You like that?" he asks, in a soft tone.

You duck your head into his neck, a little embarrassed, but oh so turned on. Ignoring the thought of your feminist credentials being tarnished by this, you reply,

"Yes, I do."

He slaps your other cheek, and says,

"Say 'Yes, sir.'"

You pull your head back and look him directly in the eyes and challenge him and gain back a little control,

"I do, Lieutenant."

He raises an eyebrow and pulls his mouth into that smirk right before he slaps both of your cheeks at the same time. The delicious pain ricochets down through your clit causing you to clench hard around him finally breaking his cool facade,

"Fuck, so good.'

You start to lift up and down on Jake's cock at a faster pace while he rubs your ass, keeping it warm and the hint of pain lingering. Your mutual heavy breathing fills the car. Jake moves one hand to place his thumb over your clit and starts slowly rolling circles around your sensitive point. The slowness of his touch is contrast to your frantic pace. His other hand pulls your head down to him and he gives you a filthy kiss as he says,

"You ride me so good, like you were made to do that, El."

"Yes, Lieutenant, your cock is so good. Give it to me, please," you whine in response.

The tension is starting to build in your belly and you keep riding Jake even though your legs are starting to ache and shake with strain.

Jake's hand on your ass is helping lift you each time and to keep your pace going.

His thumb on your clit pushes down harder and he slaps your ass at the same time, breaking that wave of pleasure over you.

"Fuck, fuck, oh my god," you rasp as your release triggers Jake's and he goes slack under you, the tension released.

The air in the car is thick with your deep breaths as you both come down from your highs. You tuck your head into Jake's neck and he wraps his strong arms around you. You and him just exist for a few minutes, still joined.

The casual closeness of the moment startles you, the safety and security, and mostly just how right it feels to be in Jake's arms. It overwhelms you, sending a niggling sense of panic and alarm through you. That familiar wave of vulnerability and fear rolls through you and you push back off Jake's chest, desperate to get rid of these feelings. This is not what you had planned on, developing feelings for him, not for anyone after Liam. Jake's arms are still around your waist, his head leaned back and his eyes closed, he doesn't pick up on your unease.

Your next words are chosen intentionally to break the spell you're under.

"Hey there, did I fuck your brains out there, Lieutenant?" you ask as Jake comes back to reality. His cock twitches inside you as you say Lieutenant. He looks into your eyes with an expression that you can't place, almost hopeful and wistful, and you know that the enormity of the moment has surrounded him also. Your own panic and doubt starts to swell as he pulls your head down for one more deep kiss before you separate hoping to quell this tsunami of emotions brewing in you. You step out of the car and rummage around in your purse to find some tissues to clean up, handing some to Jake as you piece yourselves back together and get back on the road.

The ride back is quiet, the night turned dark. Jake has taken your hand in his and is rubbing his thumb on the back of yours as he drives. As you slow down and roll through the residential streets to get back to your house, he asks,

"Hungry?”

The question startles you from your thoughts, and you fumble for an answer,

“Yes, I was too into the scenery to think about dinner till now.”

He grins back at you full of self satisfaction as you realize the secondary meaning of your statement. You give him an affectionate eye roll in return.

“Want to hit the Hard Deck? You can’t beat the fish tacos,” he asks.

“Works for me,” you reply, happy that they'll be something to redirect your attention and thoughts when you get there.

It doesn’t take long for you to pull into the parking lot and the place is its usual level of busy for an early Saturday night. Jake parks the car and you walk over hand in hand to the entrance when Jake suddenly stops, his shoes crunching on the gravel in response the abruptness of his motion, and says,

“Shit, my squadron is here.”

Worry not my pretties, the next chapter is on deck and will be posted soon (I have no impulse control, lol.)

Chapter 11

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@mayhemmanaged

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

@callsign-viper

@senjoritanana

@djs8891

@atarmychick007

#top gun maverick #hangman fanfiction #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #top gun smut #top gun fanfiction

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fragilecapric0rnn · 8 months ago

Note

please please please

✨🕺wip week bc we are so back 🕺✨

i created a monster with this meme, i fear.

ok but FOR REAL i haven't touched this doc in SO LONG and i didn't realize how much the story has progressed and you know what? WOWOWOW i missed this one!

(for those who missed it, this is The Lumax that takes place in the same universe as Anyway, It's About Old Friends, where they breakup and still end up together bc this bunch has a habit of finding their way back to each other <3) here is a lil bit i just wrote from the 1992 (aka the wedding) chapter of The Lumax!!!

Max taps on her steering wheel aggressively as she waits outside Will’s apartment complex. Her leg tapping made the car shake. The stupid Lenny Kravitz song that has been playing everywhere lately.

So many years we've triedAnd kept our love alive'Cause baby, it ain't over 'til it's over

She shuts the radio off all together, just as the gate to Will’s complex swings open. She hits the unlock button. His face is solemn, eyebrows scrunched, and looking downright disheveled. She can’t help but empathize with what he’s going through, just hiding it better than him.

Trips to San Diego aren’t usually filled with much anticipation. Usually, they’re a break from reality. A break from her grandma’s tiny house. A break from her stupid uncle hogging all the hot water in the bathroom. From everyone being loud, taking up so much space.

But this time, she’s in Santa Barbara. This time, she’s coming from her Grandma’s house where she was just a visitor. This time, she can’t shake the knot in the pit of her stomach about who she is about to be spending a weekend with.

Will drops himself into the passenger seat.

“Hey,” he says, low and mumbled.

“Hey,” she says, furrowing her brows, looking at him confused. “You good?”

“Fine,” he says, clearly annoyed with her asking. She rolls her eyes.

#The Lumax #aiaof #wip game #tag game #ask game #1992 was A LOT for this bunch in this ficverse i fear

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ofstoriesandstardust · 2 years ago

Text

something’s gotta give (j.h.s.)

a/n: my finger slipped.

summary: Jake makes a decision.

inspired by camila cabello’s “something’s gotta give” and taylor swift’s “the last time” | part of the maroon universe

warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Jake is 33), angst, break-ups, non-linear story telling, i’m working on a follow-up piece to this, referenced sex

word count: 869

“no reason to stay is a good reason to go”

The light in the kitchen is dim as you walk into the entryway, pausing a few feet from the kitchen island. Bradley glances at you from where he’s fiddling around on his phone, glass of water sitting in front of him. It takes him a second but he glances back up at you again, putting his phone to sleep as he stands up from the chair.

"Hey kid, are you okay?”

You take a shaky breath, pulling your hair to one side as tears sting your eyes. “Um-”

Bradley furrows his eyebrow, taking a step closer for you, arm already outreached to pull you into a hug. “Hey, hey, what happened?”

The words leave you in one fell swoop before you’re ever even really sure you want them to.

“Jake broke up with me.”

The ocean breeze floats through your hair, sending a shiver down your spine as your wet hair drips on to your shirt. Your eyes are unseeing, too focused on the war inside of you.

“I never should’ve moved back to San Diego.”

Your Dad looks to you but your eyes remained focused on the crashing ocean water.

“I’ve been fucking miserable here. And I tried, I tried to make it work, to believe you all those times you said that it was going to be different. And I tried to make it work with the team, with the job, with Jake, but-” You pause, blinking. “No reason to stay is a good reason to go.”

You feel the fabric of Bradley’s cotton white t-shirt hitting the side of your face as he draws you into a hug before you process that the words have left your mouth.

You bite your lip, determined to keep the tears in because you’re sure that once you let go, you might shatter in Bradley’s arms.

“Hey, what happened? I thought things were going so good.”

“I thought so too, but he- he fucked me and then he dumped.”

Your lip trembles, first tear traitorously slipping down your face as Bradley stiffens.

“He what?” His voice is dangerously quiet.

He pulls away, just enough to look you in the eye. You take the opportunity to step back, tears running down your face now as you make a futile attempt to wipe them away on the back of your wrist.

“We were- we were laying bed after, you know, and I was telling him about how the last guy I had been with didn’t really give a shit about me, that he took more than I could give, but how he- he didn’t make me feel like that and Jake- he-”

A sob escapes your mouth and your hand flies up to cover it, knowing the minute your Dad wakes up, all hell will break loose. Bradley knows this too, shushing you as he pulls you back into another bug, muffling your sobs, but it’s pointless, the sound of the bedroom door opening.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Maverick’s voice comes, followed by the kitchen light being flicked on.

“Kiddo, what happened?” Your Dad says and you feel his hand fall on your back, rubbing comfortable circles with your thumb into your shoulder.

“Jake broke up with her.” Bradley says after a minute of silence when it becomes clear you’re not going to say anything.

“Son of a bitch.”

The car door shuts, the ocean breeze floating in through the outdoor drop-off section of the airport. Maverick sighs, settling his hands in his coat pockets.

“It’s not too late, you know? You don’t have to do this.”

He’d been the only to come see you off as you left to start over. Insisted he drive you.

You shrug, tugging stray hair behind your ear that’s been blowing in the wind. “I’m sorry Maverick.”

He sighs again, taking a step towards you, tugging you into a hug. “I love you, kid. This’ll always be your home. You’re always welcome here.”

You take a deep breath, trying to memorize the way he smelled of jet fuel and ocean breeze, the way the scent had always brought you comfort and familiarity.

“Just because Jake is gone doesn’t mean you’ve got to go.” He says and the words make you take a step back, arms falling to your side.

It feels final, leaving like this.

You sigh, pulling the handle of your suit case up as you step back on to the curb before facing him one last time.

“No reason to stay is a good reason to go.”

Your phone illuminates on the nightstand as you shift the covers back to slip under. You frown, sighing to yourself as you know who it is.

At this hour, there’s only one.

You stand up from the bed, walking over to the window.

There he is, staring up at you with pleading eyes.

You heave another sigh, tears stinging your eyes as you draw the blinds shut, blocking his figure from view.

You flick the lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. You count your breaths in a fruitless attempt to keep the stinging tears at bay.

No reason to stay is a good reason to go.

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #maroon

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gryfflepuffinthetardis · 7 months ago

Text

Valentía: Plain Sight

Season One Masterlist

Won't Get Fooled Again

Broken Mirror

Summary: Spencer Reid's twenty-fourth birthday party is interrupted when they are put on the "Tommy Killer", a serial rapist and killer in San Diego who rapes, murders, and glues his victims' eyes open.

Warning: Mentions of rape, Mention of Zoe's criminal ex-boyfriend; Spencer pining after Zoe but not admitting it; Zoe's emotional walls; Hints of past vague assault of main character; Season Six Arc References and Spoilers, Emily Prentiss Cameo; Mentions of a post-traumatic Trigger pushing on repressed memories; Vomiting

"Just be yourself. Let people see the real, imperfect, flawed, quirky, weird, beautiful, and magical person that you are." — Mandy Hale

October twelfth. Spencer Reid's birthday. His twenty-fourth.

They had a cake that Zoe had specifically baked but no one other than Alexander knew that.

"Make a wish!" Elle said and Spencer blew on the candles but them being trick candles, they came back on.

"Come on, man! Blow, baby, blow!" Morgan teased.

"I thought you were full of hot air, Reid." Elle joked.

"Come on, Reid!” Morgan teased.

"They're trick candles, Spencer, Okay? They're gonna come back on every time." JJ explained but that didn’t deter him from trying.

"Aww, mommy to the rescue." Morgan teased, tugging on Spencer's ridiculous but cute birthday hat... which Zoe didn't care about.

"Mommy?”

“Ignore him. He’s actually a mommy’s boy.” Zoe said.

“Hey, Reid. Does it make you legal yet? And how old are you turning this month, Zoe?”

“Twenty.” She said, blankly. “Twenty the thirty-first.”

“A whole year until you’re legal.” Morgan teased.

“In Mexico, the drinking age is eighteen. I could just go there, Mama’s boy.”

“Your birthday’s in nineteen days? Halloween?” Spencer asked her curiously as the cake was cut.

“Yeah.” She said, shortly.

“Doing anything special?”

“Yeah, will we meet your mama? I bet you were a mama’s girl.”

“Uh, no, she’s dead.” Zoe said, blankly and Morgan quickly shut up.

Behind them was Hotch, Gideon, and Alexander, “Isn't it amazing he knows what he knows and he's only twenty-four?”

“Imagine what he'll know by fifty.” Gideon said.

“Imagine what Zoe will know. She’s been smarter than me since she was three and she could beat David at the Sunday crossword puzzle in pen.” Alexander said, looking at his daughter. Gideon smiled, remembering how cranky Rossi had been.

“So how are we supposed to put these out?” Morgan asked.

Zoe had gotten a metal bowl and plucked the candles off and dropped them in.

“A little water will solve that. Trick candles relite due to the magnesium powder in the wick.”

“Magnesium is a highly reactive metal when powdered or sliced thinly. It can ignite at temperatures as low as eight hundred Fahrenheit.” Spencer said.

“Yes, it is, Spencer. And when the flame is blown out the remaining red ember relights it. Just cut off the oxygen supply with water.” Zoe added.

“How do you know all this?” Elle asked.

“My dad’s a big fan of trick candles.” Zoe said, glancing at said father before taking the bowl to the sink and dosing the flames in cold water as Alexander joined her.

"Hope you like chocolate." Elle said as Hotch was called by a fellow agent.

“You havin' fun?” Gideon asked.

“Yes. Definitely. I'm definitely having fun.” Spencer said, rather dully, not used to having so much attention of him as his mother often forgot his birthday due to her Paranoia Schizophrenic disorder, heck, she couldn’t feed herself, Spencer had to remind her since he was ten after his dad just left and hadn’t seen him since, but he’d have to be an idiot not to realize how much his mother loved him.

“Make a wish?” Gideon asked.

Spencer subconsciously glanced at Zoe who was smacking Morgan’s hand away from the cake and when he did it again, she sprayed him in the face like a misbehaving kitten with a spray bottle full of water. He looked back at Gideon, “Can I take this hat off?

Gideon’s eyes went up to the hat, he knew Zoe had specially ordered for Spencer’s birthday. “I wouldn't.”

“Hey, Spence. First piece for the birthday boy." Zoe called with a rare, sweet smile on her face that brought heat up to Spencer's cheeks.

Spencer started to head over before he turned to Gideon, “Do you know she's the only person in the whole world who calls me 'Spence’.”

Spencer came over to eat his piece of cake as Zoe smacked Morgan's hand again.

Hotch hung up the phone and announced to his team, "Sorry, guys. Party's over."

They met back up in the conference room.

"We're going to San Diego." Hotch said as he and JJ entered the room with the details about the case

"But not for the surfing, huh?" Morgan quipped.

"They're calling him the 'Tommy Killer'." JJ said, placing the files down.

"Six women raped and murdered in their homes in the last three weeks." Hotch said.

"Six in three weeks?" Elle asked.

"That's a short fuse." Gideon said.

"And getting shorter. First two were eight days apart, then the next four in two weeks.

"Rapid escalation." Spencer identified, "You think he's regressing to a psychopathic frenzy?

"No, he's too controlled for that." Hotch said. "See you on the plane." Then he got up to leave.

"Why the 'Tommy Killer'?" Morgan asked.

"You know the rock opera?" Hotch asked, turning back, "Well, this UnSub glues his victims' eyes wide open."

Zoe's memory went back to those eight months, it had almost always been pitch black.

"He wants them to see him." Spencer said.

"And feel him."

Zoe got up and left to get ready.

Then her phone rang, it was an unknown but from the area code, she knew it was from Italy. Only one person in Italy would call her today of all days.

"Come sta la ragazza più ribelle di tutto l'FBI?" Asked the undercover agent.

"È questo il saluto che ricevo dalla festeggiata? Non ti sento da otto mesi." Zoe said into the phone with a teasing tone.

"Non è il mio compleanno."

"Potrebbe non essere il compleanno di Lauren ma è il compleanno di Emily."

She chuckled. "I haven't been her in while."

"Where are you, are you safe?" Zoe asked.

"Yeah, I'm away from the villa right now. I don't think he suspects anything, I knew you might track me down if I didn't call."

"Damn right, I would, but unfortunately I've got a case so it will have to wait."

"Oh, you've been at the BAU for almost seven months now. How's it going?"

"Really, great. I already knew some and obviously Dad. But I've been dreaming of this since... forever. Even if they don't know who I really am."

"I know how that is." Emily said and then said, sympathetically, "How are you?"

"Since those six months or when I had to track him down?" Zoe asked.

"Either."

"You know how I am."

"Unfortunately I do."

"How close do you think you are?"

"I'm afraid I can't comment on it with you anymore. You already know more than you should. You shouldn't have done what you've already done."

"It helped, didn't it?"

"So, what's the case?"

"Uh, there's a serial killer in San Diego, he's raping women and killing them by strangling them with some kind of cord or wire and gluing their eyes open." She talked about it with Emily who was talented in profiling but she didn't often do serial killers.

Spencer left the conference room a little bit later and he saw Zoe at her desk on the phone with a smile on her face. He wondered who was making her smile.

When he got to the jet, he noticed something in his go-bag. A gift. A rectangle wrapped in gift wrap, it seemed to be a book.

———————————————————————————

French poet Jacques Rigaut said, "Don't forget that I cannot see myself, that my role is limited to being the one who looks in the mirror."

Hotch walked the length of the plane, handing photos of the victims to his team members, "Brenda Samms was found yesterday by her children when they got home from school. She had been strangled with a thin ligature, possibly a wire.

"No weapon left at the scene."

"Residue on the wrists and mouth indicate that duct tape was used, then removed." Spencer said.

"Also not found at the scene." Hotch added.

"Brought it with him, took it with him." Elle said.

"He also started leaving messages at the fourth scene, this was on the mirrors." Hotch said as Gideon was sketching eyes.

"Fair lady, throw those costly robes aside, no longer may you glory in your pride, take leave of all your carnal vain delight..." Alexander read, he frowned why did that sound familiar.

"I've come to summon you away this night." Spencer finished.

"It's a ballad from the late 1600s. A Dialogue Betwixt Death and a Lady."

"The Great Messenger of Mortality." Zoe recalled.

Morgan extended his hands like, how in the world do they know that? While Gideon and Alexander smiled with pride.

"A seventeenth-century ballad?" Elle asked.

"Yeah, essentially a woman begging Death to live." Spencer said.

"What kind of person knows this ballad?" Elle asked.

"People who read." Zoe deadpanned but Elle ignored her.

"Are we looking for a literature professor?" Elle asked.

"Well, anyone with an Internet connection, actually. You should see what comes up when you type 'death' into a search engine."

“Reid, no wonder you can’t get a date.” Morgan joked, Zoe noticed the shift in Spencer’s eyes.

“When was the last time you had a date after sex?” Zoe quipped.

“When was the last time you had a date?” Morgan countered.

“Depends what you mean by date.” Zoe said with a sudden darker undertone, looking over the file. Spencer furrowed his eyebrows slightly.

"What?" Morgan asked, his demeanor suddenly changing.

Zoe’s phone beeped on the table next to her lighting up with M.D.

"Of course, I only know it because my mom was a big reader and she annotated books before, you know..." She trailed off, biting her lip.

Oh. Spencer's eyes softened. It seemed her mother's death still weighed on Zoe.

"Reid, Zoe you two stay on the messages. See if there's a deeper meaning." Gideon said, "Do you have the notes your mother wrote?"

"I might have scanned it so I could have a digital copy. She... you wouldn't believe how many books she wrote notes on for... me." Us. Zarah and me.

"Well, it definitely looks like he ransacked the crime scene pretty well." Morgan said, showing the picture they all had.

"A lot of damage, nothing taken." Hotch said.

"Well, the eyes are the thing. The signature. The behavior that isn't necessary for the murder, but necessary for the emotional release. That's what he's there for.

"There used to be a widely held belief that the eyes record a snapshot of the last thing a person sees before they die." Spencer said.

"Optography. They used them in Jules Verne novels but it's a myth." Zoe said.

"People used to write poems about talking to Death." Morgan said.

"Ballads." Spencer and Zoe said.

"Whatever." Morgan scoffed.

"You think they'll ever run out of new things to do to their victims?"

Zoe let out a nearly inaudible scoff, she knew more than anyone in that room that that what people they hunted were good at.

"Well, finding new ways to hurt each other is what we're good at." Gideon said.

———————————————————————————

Task Force Headquarters

SAN DIEGO POLICE DEPARTMENT

The team apart of from Hotch, Zoe, and JJ went past the detective in charge of the case. He held his hand out to Hotch, the first who didn't look right past him.

"Captain Griffith, Task Force Commander."

"Sorry. We all get tunnel vision." Hotch apologized for his team. "Um, I'm Special Agent Hotchner. This is Agent Jareau, our liaison. And this is Doctor Zoe Valdez, she's one of our special agents."

The girls shook his hand. "I appreciate you coming out."

"Thanks. Hope we can help." Zoe smiled, "Uh, excuse me." She went past him to get set up, going over to Spencer where he was looking at the pictures of the

"‘My name is death. Have you not heard of me? You may as well be mute’.” Spencer trailed off to reading silently.

JJ was looming over Spencer's shoulder.

"Creepy, huh?"

“No.” Zoe said, giving her an irritated look.

"Actually, uh, conversations between Death and his victims was a fairly popular literary and artistic theme throughout the Renaissance." Spencer said and JJ stared at him. "Yeah, creepy."

“Do you need something, JJ?” Zoe’s tone was sharp, defensive. Then Zoe’s phone rang and she picked it up, “Hey, M.D.” She got up and walk off.

"What's her problem?"

"Her mother's death, I think." Spencer shrugged.

Zoe shortly came back, she had her laptop out and was going through files upon files of scanned books that were in no way organized.

"Who's M.D.?" Spencer asked, cautiously.

"A friend. I went to Harvard with her." Zoe said, vaguely.

"Were you talking to her before we left?" Spencer asked.

"Huh? Oh, no, that was..." Her smile faltered, "A different friend. She's... she's kind of unable to call very much because of her job. I can't say much but today's her birthday too, so she knows to call so I don't track her down. She's thirty-five today."

"I-I'm sorry about your mom."

"Hmm?"

"You mom. I'm sorry. I... I didn't have much of a dad, he walked out when I was ten, so my mom was all I had and I was a twelve-year-old in a Las Vegas public high school, so I didn't have many friends. So, I just... I'm sorry."

"It's no problem. It happened nearly two decades ago." She shrugged but Spencer could see her grief and guilt.

"But you're only nineteen. How old were you when she died?"

"Little." Zoe said. "These books are really all I have of her. Of who she really was as a person. I think she would've like you and she would've said to not hold back your passion for these things for anyone, not even JJ. But you are unequivocally you and as Oscar Wilde, 'everyone else is already taken'."

Spencer looked at her, his heart swelling for the closed off girl before he cleared his throat and said, "it looks like what he's written at the scenes are most of the first three verses of the same ballad."

Zoe pressed a button on her laptop, making the screen go black and locking it and scanned the lines. "It's only Death's lines." She realized. "Go tell Hotch."

———————————————————————————

Zoe had wanted to help the woman who survived a similar home invasion and rape attempt. She had found her file on the poem and printed paper copies of it.

Elle, Hotch, and Zoe entered the house of the survivor, Marcia Gordon.

"Lucky woman." Hotch said as they walked through the kitchen.

"Yeah, well, she's probably not feeling so lucky right about now." Elle said.

"Just don't tell her she's lucky." Zoe said with a note of disgust in her voice.

Marcia and her husband were surrounded by male officers.

The husband of Marcia repeated his description, "He was black and six feet tall. I watched him run out that back door."

Captain Griffith walked to them as he said, "Get a description out in the field ASAP."

"Interracial serial sex crimes are rare." Hotch informed them.

"Are they impossible?" Griffith asked.

"Uh, no."

"Then what's your point?" Griffith asked.

"Only to provide you with information." Hotch said.

Zoe and Elle looked past him to the woman who looked at them. They were the only other women in the house. Zoe couldn't remember much of the days after she was found again. Any of the times. But she knows why she's kept quiet about what happened. Because all the people who helped raise her were men. Even if she knew they wouldn't judge her, she knew telling them what happened would make her feel weak.

"I'm going to go talk to her." Zoe spoke.

"Me too." Elle said.

"May I ask why?" Griffith asked.

A note of danger appeared into Zoe's eyes. "She was nearly raped, and she's surrounded by men." Zoe said, simply and then walked past him.

"Mrs. Gordon? I'm Doctor Zoe Valdez with the BAU of the FBI but you can call me Zoe," Zoe said and Elle arrived, "This is my college, Elle Greenaway."

"Would you like to go outside?" Elle asked.

Mrs. Gordon hesitated.

"It's all right. We're just going to go some place quiet." Zoe reassured her.

Zoe and Elle took Mrs. Gordon outside to the patio, "I really don't know that much about him." She insisted.

"You don't have to." Zoe said, "Just take a little time to collect your thoughts. To just sit here. Breathe."

"You two don't want to ask me questions?" Mrs. Gordon asked.

"Not until you're ready." Zoe said.

"We'll be right behind that doorway." Elle said and Zoe got up and they started to walk to the sliding door that led them out of the house.

"I didn't even know he was in the house. Is that common?" She said.

Zoe and Elle came back and Zoe sat back down, "Very."

"He slapped me from behind, and pulled me down on the floor. I tried to scratch him and bite him, but he was so strong. And then my husband came home from work. He screamed, and the man ran out the door." Mrs. Gordon said.

"He was a black man?" Elle asked.

"Bill was sure of it, but I... I only remember his eyes." Mrs. Gordon said and Zoe forced herself not to shift. "When we were fighting, I kept staring him right in the eyes. I remember thinking, if he's going to kill me, then he's going to have to look at me while he does.

Zoe's memory flashed back to when she was twelve years old. His eyes peered at her through the mask. They were hazel-brown but not like Spencer's, they were lighter in color but darker in soul. No empathy. No remorse. Still with the dark warehouse she was in and the shadows from the mask, she could still see the gold tint of them.

"And he just kept staring back at me through the ski mask."

Zoe almost didn't catch it but she did a double take, "Did you just say ski mask?"

———————————————————————————

When they returned to the station, Zoe made her way to the bathroom, she felt sick. Like the repressed memories, she wanted to keep repressed forever were itching to the surface, she made her away for the nearest toilet before throwing up into it, flashes of those eyes kept coming back. Not just in that moment but flashes of those eyes in her repressed memories. Those five days.

During the eight months, three years later, she was never allowed to see. But in those five days, he had wanted to see her eyes, to see if she ever showed fear. What Mrs. Gordon did was exactly what Zoe would've done. If he was going to kill her, he was going to have to look her in the eye.

———————————————————————————

They were ready for the profile, they had realized that he had started leaving the verses because the police hadn't connected his crimes yet, so he wasn't getting enough attention.

"The UnSub brought his weapons with him. Tape, glue, wire. He did not leave them at the scene. He took them when he left." Gideon told the room of cops, the BAU stood spread in front of them and in front of the victim boards apart from Zoe, Gideon had reassured them that she was fine and to continue on without her. "He has a kind of killing kit that he carries."

"Organized killers usually have a skilled job, likely technology related, which may involve the use of the hands." Hotch continued, "The crime scenes are far enough apart that he needs a vehicle. This will be well-kept, obsessively clean, as will be his home. He's diurnal, the attacks occur during the day, so the vehicle may be related to his work, possibly a company car or truck."

"We believe he watches the victims for a time, learns the rhythms of the home, knows his time frame." Morgan said.

"You're not going to catch him accidentally." Hotch added.

"He destroys symbols of wealth in the victims' homes. He harbors envy of and hatred toward people of a higher social class." Gideon said. "He feels invisible around them."

"Class is the theme of the poem which he left at the various crime scenes. At one point in the poem, the woman attempts to bribe Death, but he doesn't accept it." Spencer said as Zoe reentered the room, "He says this is the one moment when riches mean nothing. When Death comes, poor and the rich are exactly alike."

"So he's poor?" An officer asked.

"Probably middle-class. A decidedly lower-class person would stick out in a highly patrolled neighborhood." Hotch said. "This guy appears to belong there. He blends in."

"Why does he glue the eyes open?" An officer asked.

"The UnSub is an exploitative rapist." Zoe spoke up as she joined them, next to Spencer who looked at her concerned, "Most rape victims close their eyes during the attack, turn their heads. For some rapists, this ruins the fantasy.

"For this type of rapist, the goal is more related to the victim watching him than the act itself." Elle continued.

"The verses, the staging, the aggressive language, 'I am Death.' This is a guy who, while being in control at the crime scene, almost certainly feels inadequate in the rest of his life." Alexander said.

"That's why he couldn't wait for you to figure out what he'd done." Gideon said, standing back up. "Why he needed to make sure all his crimes were counted. His victims. They represent whatever it is that's controlling him, and he wants that control back. He is under the thumb of a powerful woman who frightens him. And a final point, he is white."

"We have witnesses that identify him as a black male." Griffith said.

"The attacker was black. He is not the Tommy Killer." Gideon said.

"Mrs. Gordon's husband came home at the same time that he always does. The Tommy Killer would have known that." Hotch continued.

"And Mrs. Gordon's attacker wore a ski mask." Elle added. "The UnSub knows when he walks into a house he's going to kill the woman who lives there. If you're not leaving any witnesses, why wear a ski mask?"

Zoe shifted her weight.

"And he wants the victim to see him anyway." Morgan added.

"Your attempted rapist is a garden-variety, disorganized young man." Alexander said.

"As the victim's age goes up, generally the attacker's age goes down. Mrs. Gordon is about sixty, which puts her rapist at about twenty." Elle said.

"And it takes years to develop the level of calm and sophistication that Tommy displays at a crime scene. And the rapist is far too young for that." Gideon added.

"Mrs. Gordon told me that there's a young man who delivers groceries to their home. He fits a lot of what we're describing here." Elle said.

"Great. So we're back to zero on Tommy." Griffith said.

"Not at all. May I see you in your office for a moment?" Hotch asked, already walking towards said office.

"Zoe," Gideon's voice said, approaching the girl who was like the daughter he never said, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She said.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off?"

"I don't need to take time off, Gideon." She argued.

Hotch walked over, "He's right, Zoe. You became triggered today, it's understandable just take the next few hours off and come back after the conference tonight and we'll be covering the tip line for the public."

———————————————————————————

They arrested Mrs. Gordon's would-be rapist and brought him back during JJ's conference, claiming him to be the Tommy Killer. Zoe was sitting with Spencer and Elle, Zoe was reading one of her mother's annotated books, Villette by Charlotte Brontë when she suddenly threw her head back and groaned, "God, I hate waiting like this. I hate waiting. I hate boredom."

"It's probably your ADHD." Spencer said.

"Obviously, doesn't make it better." Zoe groaned.

"Do either of you think it's weird that I knew that ballad?" Spencer suddenly asked them.

"No." Zoe said.

"I don't know how it is that either of you know half the things you know, but I'm glad you do." Elle said.

“Don’t listen to Morgan, Spence. He’s a playboy. He has sex with no emotional connections, he doesn’t really do... deep unless it’s explicitly pointed out to him. Typical guy. But you're not a typical guy and trust me when it's me saying that. It’s better to be smart and know things about what you do that saves lives than be a playboy of average intelligence who doesn’t know the things you know.” Zoe said.

"Do you think that's why I can't get a date?" Spencer asked.

"You ever ask anyone out?" Elle asked.

"No." Spencer said.

"That's why you can't get a date." Elle said.

"You don't want to be Morgan, Spencer. Just because you want connection over sex. Just means you're not a typical guy." Zoe said.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend, Zoe?" Elle asked.

Zoe went quiet for a moment, "I... had a boyfriend shortly before I joined the BAU, it was on and off for about four years, I mean, we didn't really go on dates when I was fifteen, something... really bad happened and he helped me through it and we bonded and suddenly we were dating and we didn't really break up but we both know that we're not together anymore."

"What happened?"

Zoe hesitated. "He was arrested. He's kind of a criminal, in a high-max prison. He's a hacker. Like better than Garcia level hacker."

"And you were dating him?"

"Like I said, we never properly got together. He was there when I needed someone and he had the unique requirements that he could relate in a way no one else could. He had a hard life. His parents died when he was ten and his life at his uncle and aunt's was less than ideal to say the least, on the streets by twelve, and then..." Her voice trailed off, looking off at the side. Spencer felt a twinge of jealous and sadness.

Zoe then cleared her throat, "If it makes you feel any better, Spence, you're more likely to get a date than I am."

"Why?"

"Women with higher IQ's have a harder time finding a mate. Men are fine dating a woman with a lower IQ than they do."

I don't think I am. Spencer thought.

"Here. This was one of my mom's favorites." She said, handing him a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird.

The phone rang and Zoe cleared her throat, picking it up, "Doctor Valdez. This is the San Diego police depart..."

Immediately someone started screaming at her through the phone.

"YOU STUPID BITCH!"

She pulled it from her ear, making gestures and whispering Spanish to the others.

"Line six, Penelope. Line six." JJ said.

Elle put the call on speakerphone as

"You stupid incompetent sons of bitches! I don't make mistakes! I am Death! You hear me? I am Death! You'll see now. Tomorrow. Mark my words, you will see! And while I'm taking her, I'm going to be thinking of you!" Then he hung up.

"I kind of wish a guy had answered him." Zoe muttered.

"Anything?" JJ asked into the phone with Garcia. "She said she got nothing."

"Nothing?" Morgan asked.

"We missed him?" Hotch asked.

"What do you mean, that was long enough to get a location?" Zoe asked, "let me call her, we can figure this out twice as quickly."

———————————————————————————

"We have an undercover car for each of your teams and the entire damned department out there, too." Griffith said, walking to them, the next morning.

"Remember, a truck, maybe a work truck in excellent condition." Gideon reminded him as Zoe arrived with a Mexican hot chocolate and an extra sugary coffee for Spencer.

"Everyone knows."

"All right. He might make a mistake today. He's angry and he probably hasn't done the kind of surveillance he'd like."

"Yeah, well, neither have we. Let's go, Reid.

"Zoe, you go with Morgan and Reid." Gideon said.

"You want to spend all day stuck in a dude car?" Zoe groaned but followed.

———————————————————————————

"Why do keep moving back there?" Morgan complained to Zoe who was in the backseat with her laptop, she kept moving and laying in different positions.

"I don't like cars, they're too cramped, I prefer motorcycles." She whined.

"You do know motorcycles are statistically more likely to crash." Spencer said, disapprovingly.

"Eh." Zoe shrugged. "They're cooler and don't smell like dude."

"I do not smell like dude!" Morgan protested.

"Yeah, you do. I was raised primarily by men. I know what dudes smell like. You smell like dude, the gym, like you coat yourself in baby oil, and either baby powder or that that deodorant powder scent. Spencer smells like bookstore with a coffee shop."

"Oh... thank you?" Spencer blushed.

"It's ten-thirty already."

"All he said was tomorrow, he didn't specify morning." Spencer said.

"Reid, this guy's got to spend a lot of time in that house. A lot. He needs it to be morning." Morgan said.

"Are we sure this is a good spot?" Zoe asked.

"Three of the victims lived within a block of this street. It's the main artery through the neighborhood." Morgan said.

"True, but three victims in the same block could mean he's done with the area." Spencer said.

"Or that he's just really familiar with it." Morgan said.

"And comfortable in it." Spencer added.

"And if he's really familiar with it, he knows to what spots in the neighborhood to avoid." Zoe said.

"But then on the other hand, the other victims lived more than a mile in either direction." Morgan considered. Then he hit the steering wheel. "God, I hate not having a plan."

"Well, that's life." Zoe deadpanned, "You need to relax more. Try reading."

"I don't want to read, Zoe."

"Well, clearly, you don't know the difference between a poem and a ballad." She sassed back.

There was a snickering giggle coming from Spencer but when Morgan looked at him, Spencer was looking in the other direction.

"Shut up." Morgan said and sighed, "We're looking for a needle in a haystack here."

"Actually it's more like we're looking for a needle in a pile of needles." Spencer corrected.

"What?" Morgan asked, incredulously.

"A needle would stand out in a haystack." Spencer pointed out.

"Okay. And we're not looking for someone who stands out."

"No, we're looking for a particular needle in a pile of needles." Spencer said

"Elle tells me your ex-beau's in prison?" Morgan said in a teasing tone.

"Yeah, because he could hack circles around your beau, no offense to Garcia but it's true." Zoe said. Technically it was the truth, he was as hacker and a genius but not why he was arrested.”

"It's the eyes." Zoe suddenly said.

"What are you doing back there?"

"Helping Garcia see how many substations our exploitative rapist unsub routed his call through. That's why Garcia couldn't get a fix on it."

"What do you mean the eyes?"

"There's something off about the eyes." Zoe said.

"What that he glues them open?"

"No, it's just a unique signature for exploitative rapists to force the victim to watch.

———————————————————————————

Gideon realized that if he could reroute the calls through as many as twenty-five substations meant he was a phone technician. They got the name Franklin Graney and Zoe got her motorcycle out and was the first to get there. She spotted an open yellow gate and she stopped her motorcycle and could hear a baby crying. She leaned her bike against the yellow fence and took out her gun as she followed the baby's crying. She spotted a tool belt, one that a phone technician would have.

"AHHHH! AHHH! MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!" The baby was screaming.

"Hey, shh... shh..." Zoe cooed, picking up the baby to calm him down, when she heard raging screams and crashing. He was breaking the riches. She took out her phone and was about to dial Hotch or Gideon when it suddenly it stopped. She turned and saw him, looking at her.

Zoe took off, running up the stairs as Graney chased her but Zoe was much quicker from him, she ran towards the room she could hear the crying from the mother coming from and opened the door, twirling inside. He grabbed the door handle, fighting her for it and Zoe managed to set the baby down and grab it with both hands and she pushed, making it fly open and hit the Graney in the face, making him let go and fall over and she slammed it shut, locking it.

"Help me. Help me." The mother cried through the duct tape on her mouth.

Zoe ran over as Graney pounded on the door and she ripped the tape off and cut the binds.

"Help me barricade the door to save us time." Zoe whispered. Zoe did most of the work since the mother was still in shock. "We don't have much time. Do you think you could crawl out the window?"

"But my baby..."

"Right, of course. It's the suburb, no fire escape. I'm going to have to talk him down or something, I want you to take your son and hide in the closet." She said, "If you hear a gunshot and you don't hear me, get a clothes wire and fight like Laurie Strode. Go. Go!"

The mother ran into the closet with her baby, shushing him.

Graney started shooting and Zoe threw herself backwards, out of the way of the bullets.

He pushed through and pointed his gun at Zoe who pointed her's back.

"FBI! Franklin Graney, put the gun down and put your hands up!" She shouted.

"FBI? I must be a big deal."

"You're raping and killing women. The San Diego department had to call in my department, the BAU." She was stalling.

"What's that?"

"I'm a profiler. I catch people like you by studying their behavior."

"What does mine say?"

"All these women are surrogates for a dominant female figure in your life, based off their age, I'd say your wife. You force them to watch you rape them before you strangle them with a wire and then you glue their eyes open so their dead bodies can watch you go back up those poles, someone they see so often but never see. That gets you off more than the rape itself. But the police department weren't able to connect your signature, the eyes. It was too subtle to you left behind the notes of The Great Messenger of Morality. Only Death's lines."

"You're the girl from the phone last night, aren't you?"

"Yes. You're the one who called me a stupid bitch."

He was approaching her with a hunger in his eyes. "You're just a little girl. Imagine how famous I'll be after I attack a FBI agent."

"I wouldn't do that, Graney." Zoe said, backing away. "I will shoot you and you're out of bullets."

"No, I'm not."

Zoe nodded to his gun. "That's an M1911 pistol. A single-action, recoil-operated, semi-automatic pistol and it only holds seven bullets. You shot seven times."

Graney then grabbed a lamp and threw it at Zoe, making her miss her aim when she shot and he tackled her to the floor.

Her memory went back to that warehouse, those eyes. Those eight months. The countless nights afterwards, she would stifle her sobs into her pillow so her dad wouldn't hear.

Never again.

"Never again!" She grunted as she kicked her foot out, kicking him in the face, he fell back and she stood up, he had her primary gun but she still had her ankle holster, she stood up, pointing her first back-up gun, first of many. "You hear me? Never again."

"Franklin." Gideon's voice said, entering the room, he had spotted Zoe's motorcycle and came upon them.

"I'll shoot her." Franklin said.

"No, you won't, Franklin." Gideon said.

"Yes, I will. I have her gun."

"If you hurt her, I'll kill you." Gideon said. "And we'll just say we caught a low-life burglar. You didn't turn out to be Tommy after all."

"He will remain uncaught. After awhile, people will forget you. You'll be nothing." Zoe added.

"Once every five or ten years they'll do a TV show and they'll ask, 'Whatever happened to that 'Tommy' guy?' 'Why did he disappear'?" Gideon said. "And then they'll stop talking about it altogether. Put the gun down. Come on, walk out of here with us. I'll make sure your face is splashed across every newspaper and TV in the country. Tommy Killer: Franklin Graney. Everyone will see you then. Bundy, Dahmer, Graney, the whole world'll know who you are."

"It's up to you, Franklin. You can be famous, or you can be invisible." Zoe said.

"You'll tell everyone?" Graney asked.

Gideon nodded, "I have a media specialist outside right now. It is your choice."

"Promise?"

"Yes, sir, I promise."

Then Graney put down Zoe's gun.

"Back away from the gun." Zoe said, "Hands behind your head." He did so as she side-stepped around him and picked her gun up.

Hotch and Elle arrived, "Where's the woman?"

"Closet." Zoe walked over to the closet, holstering her guns and opening the door as Hotch arrested Graney. Zoe crouched down to the mother and child. "It's okay to come out. You and your baby are safe."

The mother finally allowed herself to sob aloud, "Thank you. Thank you."

"You're welcome. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay." Zoe whispered.

———————————————————————————

Rose Kennedy once said, "Birds sing after a storm, why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever sunlight remains to them?"

Zoe sanitized her gun after deciding against burning it to sterilize it of the rapist's touch. And she was now on the jet, continuing to read Villette by Charlotte Brontë as she had headphones on.

Gideon and Spencer were playing chess when Gideon said, "Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you."

"Oh, yeah?" Spencer muttered, somewhat distractedly.

"I forgot to give it to you at the party." Gideon said, handing Spencer a small, elongated box giftwrapped with blue paper and a red ribbon

"But you don't give birthday presents." Spencer chuckled. He undid the ribbon and tore the blue paper off and opened the box to see a pair of Redskin tickets.

"Wow. The Redskins." Spencer said.

"It's a VIP box." Gideon explained.

"Wow. Thank you so much." Spencer smiled.

"Ever been to a pro football game?" Gideon asked.

"No, I honestly didn't know this was football." Spencer chuckled.

"You're going to love it." Gideon said.

"We are. You're coming with me, right?" Spencer asked.

"No. There's someone else on the plane who is a huge Redskins fan."

"Who?"

Gideon looked past Spencer to the twenty-four-year-old blonde liaison.

"JJ?" Spencer blushed, he kept glancing past Gideon at Zoe, reading a classic.

"She's a huge Redskins fan." Gideon said.

Spencer frowned and looked at Zoe. He was not unaware of the effect that violent tomboy had on him. His heart raced when he saw her and he yearned to learn more about her but he also felt she was keeping things from him, but not just him.

Gideon was also not unaware of Spencer’s feelings for Zoe. Spencer was the least experienced profiler and while he was uncomfortable with emotions, he didn’t do a very good job at hiding the ones he had for Zoe.

Spencer looked at Gideon and said, softly, “JJ’s great and all but she’s just not Zoe.” This was the closest he had ever come to really acknowledging his feelings for Zoe.

Before he met Zoe, he had had feelings for JJ but… then he collided with Zoe and…

“Zoe’s had a hard life. She’s against letting people in easily. She likes to hide her emotions and prove she’s strong.”

“She is strong. She has ADHD and is still one of our best profilers.” Spencer said, almost defensively.

“I know that. But she’s from a culture that typically views mental health as a weakness. I know it’s not but because of that she likes to prove to everyone that she’s tough. She’s been through a lot and she’s not open to new relationships until she’s ready. She’s too guarded right now.”

Gideon phrased all of this as if it was something he had profiled from Zoe which was technically true but Gideon had also helped raise Zoe and knew this personally about her.

Spencer nodded. He had gotten this from her too, plus she was recently-ish out of an on and off five-year relationship.

"Wh-What should I say?" Spencer stammered. Gideon just looked at him. Spencer tucked the tickets into his lapel pocket, glancing back at JJ and started to get up when he moved a chess piece on the board and said, "Checkmate."

Gideon furrowed his brows as Spencer got up before smiling and chuckling as Spencer headed to JJ, still thinking about Zoe.

He awkwardly sat next to JJ across the aisle and cleared his throat

"Heard you're a fan of football..."

———————————————————————————

When Spencer got home, he remembered the gift-wrapped book in his go-bag and he opened it to find a nice edition of the 1967 classic, The Outsiders.

Spencer opened it to see something written in pen on the first page.

"My mom always said the message of this book is to always be true to yourself no matter what society tells you to do, no matter how touch it is, be who you are and not what people want you to be."

—————————————————————————-

Translations:

Come sta la ragazza più ribelle di tutto l'FBI? — Italian — How’s the most rebellious girl in all of the FBI?

È questo il saluto che ricevo dalla festeggiata? Non ti sento da otto mesi – Italian — Is that the greeting I get from the birthday girl? I haven't heard from you in eight months.

Non è il mio compleanno. — Italian — It’s not my birthday.

Potrebbe non essere il compleanno di Lauren ma è il compleanno di Emily. — Italian — It may not be Lauren's birthday but it is Emily's birthday.

*Personal note: I cut my finger with a potato peeler when I was making a deviled egg potato salad, like a deep cut but manageable, so while I have a bandage, my writing will be slower. I do have to the next few episodes written down (I'm writing LDSK now), but I want to slowly release them. So for the next few weeks, it'll be slower*

6 notes · View notes

thepinkwriterr · 2 years ago

Text

Capricorn Season Chapter Twenty-Two

Sorry for the little lapse in posting. I’ve been busy with school and life. But now I have a few chapters to post. Enjoy

Table of Contents

Word Count: 6k

It was on the days they woke up together that Robert sang the best. When a day began with staring lovingly into the expanses of her blue eyes, he felt like God was on his side. With her he shined.

"Goodmorning," she said in a low voice. It was too early for loud moves or sudden words. Sun poured in through every open airplane window, ensuring to catch their tired eyes.

And her beauty was an understatement. She was a flowery treasure chest, more gold than you could ever imagine being found inside. He admired who he was when she was around.

"Goodmorning," he returned with a wispy smile, turning uncomfortably in his tiny seat.

- They were a mass of blonde curls under the blinding San Diego sun. They looked like twins-- two sides of the same coin. Perhaps their similarities were what drew them into one another.

They walked together with locked hands. They passed through throngs of people with the group, taking in the sights of the stuffy airport.

Gwen looked at the couple and tapped Jimmy on the shoulder to draw his attention. "Look at them, they're so smitten." He rolled his eyes at this, intent on getting through the airport.

"You should enjoy the sun! You won't get much of it when we return to England." Her words were a taunt. He didn't want to enjoy the sun, he wanted to go to bed.

He felt like a raisin in the sun. He was ground under the wheels of the Earth, becoming a cloud of pulpy dust by the oppressive heat. He was an English boy, pale and fragile to temperature changes.

"Yeah, Jimmy, enjoy the sun!" Bonzo mocked her, putting on a terrible valley girl accent.

"There isn't any sun to enjoy. We're inside," he grumbled. They were finally through airport check-in and were headed to their cars. Bonzo, Robert, and Lorelei would be in one, Jonesy, Gwen, and Jimmy in another. Gwen didn't want to be separated from her new best friend but was content to dote on Jimmy in the meantime.

"After you, Lord and Lady." Jonesy held the door open and put on a regal tone.

"Thank, my good sir." She smiled as she slid into the car.

When the door shut the black car lurched forward and began a 45-minute drive to the hotel. This was the reality of touring, not a glamorous display of royalty, but rather, a series of menial tasks and tiring travel. "How are you enjoying the sights, my love?" Robert asked.

"Oh, they're great! I love San Diego." They were gazing into one another's eyes, lost in the vast seascapes of correlating blue.

"We've only been here an hour. And most of that time was spent in the airport." Bonzo's voice was a harsh reality, an end to their gushy romance.

"We've been doing our own sightseeing." Robert was the ever-charming romantic, always saving an awkward moment. He was graceful and practiced in wooing women, knowing exactly what to say to make a girl swoon. This is exactly what Lorelei did. Her face flushed pink, and she smiled wide. "That's my favorite one." He leaned in to kiss her.

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ," Bonzo groaned, "I'm not listening to this for 45 minutes. I'll jump out the fucking car into the street." The three were doing sightseeing of their own in the other car. They leaned down, peering out of the windows to catch a glimpse of the water below.

"San Diego is California's beach city. They also have the largest number of small farms in America." Jonesy read from a laminate brochure he found in the airport lobby. It was titled San Diego: The Sights You Will Sea." This corny joke caught his attention, and he pulled it off the shelf to save him from death via boredom.

"Still not as nice as San Francisco. That's my favorite place in this whole state," Gwen spoke. Memories of her childhood and adolescence flooded her mind. Scenes of '50s America were fresh and lovely, the world never looked so innocent and beautiful.

"Did you grow up there?" Jonesy asked.

"Oh, yeah, it was really nice. I've never been to San Diego, though." "So how can you know if San Francisco is better?" He asked.

"Because it's the best city in the world. Nothing could top it." She wore her title of Californian with pride.

"You've clearly never had a fresh croissant in Paris," Jimmy said with a coy smile on his face.

"Okay, maybe it's not the best city in the world, but definitely in America."

Jonesy frowned, "I hated San Fransico. Too many people."

"I agree," Jimmy chimed in, "too many homeless people."

Gwen rolled her eyes.

"I just love the sun here. It warms me and brings out the color in my eyes." Lorelei was smiling with a dreamy look in her eyes. Every inch of her was filled with bliss.

Their hands had found each other and rested together on the seat of the car. Bonzo refrained from groaning at the sight of their love. He was getting sick of everyone. The next tour would be without all the romance, he hoped.

"How is Jason, Bonz?" Robert changed the subject to keep the mood light.

"He's doing wonderfully! I'm already teaching him how to play. He has a little kit and everything. It really fills my heart with joy to see him banging away."

His voice was lighter than she'd had ever heard. His face was flushed with a glow of happiness, filled with total glee.

"You have a child?" She asked.

"Yeah, his name is Jason. He's four. He's the love of my life." "That's so sweet. You must've been young when you had him. You don't look old enough to have a child." "I had him when I was 18. It kills me to be away from him." He was still beaming at the thought of his family, despite the sadness that he felt. It wasn't easy for any of them to leave their families.

It was easier for Jimmy, who was more interested in furthering his career than settling down. Of course, it wasn't on purpose that any of them had children so young. But Jimmy was careful. He had a plan in life and knew having a child was not in that plan. Not for the time being, at least. "That warms my heart. Robert, do you have any children?" She asked. This conversation was now going sour, and he had to do something to change the subject. Reminiscing and thinking of family were something they all did, but not to the women they brought on tour.

"Yeah, Robert, do you have any children?" Bonzo was smiling at him. It may have seemed innocent on the surface, but Robert knew what his true intention was. It wasn't an extension of glee for his well-being, it was a challenge. He was an ape bearing his teeth, ready for the slaughter. Robert was a spiritual man, he believed in a plethora of God's. He never knew if he was in their good graces or not, not attending mass or any kind of church. He didn't even pray. But on this day, he knew somebody or something was looking out for him. Before the silence got too thick, filling with awkward hesitance, the car stopped abruptly. It slammed them against the seats, their heads banging into the vinyl. He'd never been so happy to have a headache. "Jesus, what was that?" Bonzo peered out the window.

"Must be traffic." Robert shrugged, turning back to Lorelei. She was worried, wearing an expression of deep concern. He came to her rescue and calmed her nerves. He was a knight, clad in heavy chainmail and brandished a shield. He stroked her cheek and her hair, whispering sweet nothings in her ear while Bonzo investigated. He got out of the car and could now see that the traffic was heavy, the highway at a dead stop. He went back to the door and looked into the window before getting in. Robert and Lorelei were attached at the mouth, engaging in a makeup session.

How disgusting, he thought.

With a groan, he flung open the other car door and pushed Jonesy over so he could scoot in. "Those two are playing tonsil tennis. I couldn't take it, so I'm crawling in with you." He said as he sat next to his friend. "Welcome to the party!" Gwen handed him a neatly wrapped joint that was already lit. Small streams of smoke billowed from the end and he blew a breath out the window.

"Perhaps being stuck in traffic was not the best place to do this," Jimmy remarked.

"Oh c'mon, don't be such a square. Have you taken a hit from this yet?" "No, he hasn't!" Gwen said.

"Here, take this." Bonzo held it up to his mouth. Jimmy retracted his head, throwing it back into the vinyl headrest of the seat.

"No, I don't want it." His lips were pursed, and he was shaking his head in an attempt to get the drummer off of him.

"I'm not stopping until you take a hit!" He cried. Jonesy and Gwen were laughing at the scene, watching Jimmy be tortured with the threat of a good time.

"You may not realize this because he's jovial now that you're around, but he's really a serious guy. There's not much funny business with him. If there's work to be done, he doesn't mess around." Jonesy leaned into her and spoke directly into the shell of her ear. The two men continued to fight.

It escalated into Jimmy screaming. "I don't want it!" It was the loudest Gwen had ever heard him be.

"Yes, you do!" Bonzo screamed back.

"No!" "Yes!"

Jimmy grabbed a fistful of Bonzo hair and pushed him back, causing the joint to fall onto the floor of the car. "Oh, shit!" Jonesy hurried to pick it up before it burned a hole in the carpet.

"What the fuck is going on back there?" Peter rolled the divider down to speak to the group. "Bonzo, what the hell are you doing in here?" When no one answered he barked again, asking what was going on. They all scrambled to answer, speaking at once. "Jesus Christ, stop your bloody yammering. I don't want to hear any more yelling!" He was gruff as usual.

"Or he'll turn this goddamn car around!" Gwen jested, causing them all to laugh. Even Peter was chortling, cutting the sound off with the rolling of the divider.

"Seriously, man, take a hit," Bonzo spoke once more when their laughing stopped.

"You are impossible," Jimmy rolled his eyes but took the joint from his fingers. It was a nub now, barely able to pass from one hand to the other.

"Let me get that before you put it out," Gwen spoke, awaiting the white gift. "Can you hold it for me? I don't want to burn my fingers." She spoke in a small voice.

"Of course." He smiled so sweetly it melted her heart, just as she did his. Jonesy thought it was sweet watching them like this. For some odd reason, seeing Jimmy in love was endearing. Perhaps his best features shone when in the presence of love, or she just brought out the best in him. He held the joint in place while she inhaled, his hand resting on the cleft in her chin. This was one of his favorite features of her face. He enjoyed pressing his lips to the fissure or placing the side of his index finger in the slit.

"Thank you, Princess Pagey." She spoke the vile words so sweetly. His face broke into a light blush of pink as he looked at his friends, mortified.

Bonzo's belly danced with a deep laugh. The corners of his mouth were turned up in a display of complete elation, his skin wrinkling and cracking. His laugh was thunderous and great. It bounced off the walls of the car.

"Princess Pagey! Oh, man, that's a good one!" Bonzo wiped a genuine tear from the corner of his eye.

"Does anyone want this before I put it out?" She asked, holding the roach up.

"Yeah, let me get another one." She passed it to Jonesy who took one last large puff and then handed it to Bonzo. He took a hit and then tossed it out the window.

"That's littering, Mr. Bonham," John spoke in an exaggerated posh accent, sounding almost like Jimmy.

"Oh, my mistake, Mr. Jones. I wouldn't want to desecrate this beautiful city."

"It's the city of beaches, I'll have you know." He continued with the accent.

"It's about to be the city of roaches if we keep this up!" Bonzo's voice raised in volume once more, filling the car with his laughter. He was a loud man, meant to be seen and heard. Aside from the obvious, his almost violent drumming, he was a screamer. He chose to speak loudly with a passion, whether or not he was angry. The falling out between Bonzo and Gwen had been slightly resolved. They resigned to being friendly once more. It was understood that they had different ideologies and should keep them out of the conversation. With three weeks left of the tour, there was no point in pissing your pants over something so meaningless, that being a disagreement or hurt feelings. There wasn't room for either of those things on tour. It was music and fun, and if neither of those was happening, you were asleep. "I've got to get back to my car. I don't want the love birds to get lonely." In an instant he was gone, leaving the three once again. When he reached the car Lorelei and Robert were no longer kissing. He thanked the heavens and got in.

"The traitor returns." "I had to leave. You guys were eating each other. I wasn't going to subject myself to that. It's a pain worse than death!" They didn't laugh at his joke.

"Traffic is letting up. Fasten your belts." Richard spoke above their chattering.

The rest of the ride was smooth. Traffic was lighter, thankfully. Peter could feel the steam coming from his ears as his foot danced on the gas pedal. As he drove, he went over the list of things he needed to do. Book flights for the next three shows, return the rented car before the flight in two days and call Atlantic. He wandered around his responsibilities for the remainder of the ride.

They'd finally arrived. The hotel was an oasis.

"Oh, God, my back hurts!" Bonzo was out of the car and yelling already. Robert and Lorelei were close behind, hands interlocked. Jimmy and Gwen were less showy in their relationship, content to walk next to each other.

"Mine too. I'm glad I can lay down for a little bit before the show." Said Jimmy.

"I can rub it for you if you'd like." They were speaking low as they walked into the hotel. This was a small display of love that only the two could witness. Their entourage trailed behind them, meandering on the pavement.

When they were finally safe in their hotel room they settled into the fresh sheets. "It's not even my own bed, but I don't care. I am just happy to be out of that car and not in a plane."

He agreed with her and then turned to face her. His eyes fell on her and trailed along the gentle curve of her spine. He placed his hands on her delicate skin and rubbed small circles. She was so beautiful, much more so than she ever imagined, he thought. She had entranced him from the moment he gained knowledge of her. That feeling hadn't left him, not for a second since he'd known her.

She looked at him now, turning to see the familiar expression on his face. He was deep in thought. His brows pressed together, creating a crease like the gutter of a book. He was vast and complex as words on a page, much like the wrinkle in his brow. She wondered what he was thinking. He was a mystery, one begging to be solved. She wanted to wiggle her way into his brain and absorb all the knowledge, be a part of the inner workings of his mind. She didn't have to speculate for much longer. He spoke once more.

"You know, it's funny, I feel like the more I get to know you, the less I learn." His soft voice was large in the hotel room, filling the space with his warm lilt. She was silent, pleading with her eyes for him to continue. "I'm opening myself up to you, trying my best to take my shoes off and open my doors. I don't feel that from you."

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm so scared to let my walls down, scared to let you in fully. I've been burned, and I don't want that again. So I try to lock myself up, but you always wriggle your way back in. It's like I can't help but let myself soften when I'm with you."

"So start telling me things."

"Like what? What do you want to know about me?" She almost wanted to giggle. They'd known each other for what felt like forever at this point. But he was right, he didn't know much about her. She kept it all under lock and key. It was inaccessible to even herself at times.

"Everything. I want you to tell me everything."

"Well, that's a pretty broad topic."

"Getting you to talk is like pulling bloody teeth," He broke his concentration with an airy laugh, "Start with your love life. That's not hard, right?"

"I'm afraid."

He groaned. "Why? What could you have to be afraid of?"

"I'm afraid you'll judge me. I don't have the most normal past."

"What could I possibly judge you about?"

"Okay, I'm just gonna be honest," she sighed hesitantly, "I've dated women in the past."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with that. As a matter of fact, I've been with men before. So I guess that's something we're both being honest about."

"You're bisexual?"

"I guess you could say that." They sat together for a moment, their faces burning. It wasn't common to meet someone who was so open about it. But they found solace in each other's omission. Jimmy broke their silence, his voice now slightly shaken, "You're avoiding the question. Tell me about your love life. What's your past like?"

"I've told you about Dominic."

"No, you've mentioned him, and then I was verbally accosted by him in the most polite of manners. I haven't a clue what happened."

After a hefty sigh, she gave in. In a painful recalling, she told the story of a tumultuous young couple. Two people who weren't meant for each other falling as if they were fated, lovers. Tears brimmed in her eyes, scalding her ducts as they threatened to take presence. The dull aching in her chest began to drum, mimicking the pattern she thought she had quieted years ago. But it was still present as if it had never stopped. The galloping beat of torment ravaged her, sending a wave of agony down her spine.

Her mind wandered over the last moments she shared with Dom. "Okay, I guess I should start from the beginning. We had been dating for almost two years and things had started to fall apart. He didn't seem to care anymore. I don't know if he was firm in the idea that he had me or if he didn't want to be with me. But I was still in it. I wanted him more than anything, I was doing everything I could think of to make him love me and stay with me. But it didn't seem to be working, and I could feel it. I didn't want to admit it, but it was true. I had an art gallery coming up. It was the first time my work was going to be shown in a real gallery and I was so excited. It was part of a larger exhibit, but I had a few pieces being shown. He was going on a trip with his friends to explore Africa. He was really into Pan-Africanism and wanted to see all of the countries that had recently won their independence. I was supportive, I understood why he wanted to go. I even wished I could go, but I would've never asked. It was a month-long trip where he and four other friends went to Niger, Chad, Cameroon, and Egypt. He was going to get back the day before my event but promised he would go. The night of the show began, and I was so excited. I wore a pretty dress, did my hair and makeup, and bought some nice new shoes. And he didn't show up. I spent the entire gallery waiting for him and by the time it was over I realized he wasn't coming."

"Oh, hey, Gwen." Dominic lay in bed, a blanket pulled up to meet his chin.

"Um, hey. Did you forget something?" Anger painted her features.

"What?" He asked.

"You are unbelievable!" She cracked, anger spilling out all over the room like gushing water from splintered vases. She was yelling, something she didn't do often. "You missed my gallery!"

He was unphased, a dazed look on his dark features. "You don't have anything to say for yourself?" She asked.

"I was jetlagged. I totally forgot about your gallery, sorry."

"Are you really sorry or are you just saying that? Because you don't seem sorry at all." "I mean, I am, but there's nothing I can do about it now." "You could've just been there! I don't know why it's so hard for you to care. I care so much about everything you have going on. Even your stupid trip!" "My trip wasn't stupid. It was the most important four weeks of my life!" "I don't care! Oh my God, I don't care. Can you just shut up about yourself for five seconds?" "If that's how you're going to be, then you need to leave." "Fine. But if you let me leave then I'm done. I'm not coming back." "You're gonna end a two-year relationship over an art gallery?" "It's not just about the gallery. It's about everything. It's about the fact that you're not even here. Even when you're with me I don't have you. You know I was knocking for twenty minutes? I had to get someone else to let me in the building. You're just in your own little world that I'm not a part of. It's like I have to beg you to love me, to even see me." She was exploding now, a mess of tears and anger falling from her eyes and draining down her alabaster face.

"That's not true. We just went out last week." He rebutted. Fireworks of impossible anger erupted behind her eyes.

"That was a going-away party for one of your friends, that wasn't a date! I was only there so you didn't go alone. I am your convenience, your routine, I'm not your girlfriend." "If that's you feel, then you should leave."

A new low had begun, a possibility she hadn't thought of. He would want to end things. He didn't want to put the work in to even accept responsibility. It was a dead end.

"You're not even going to fight for this? You're just going to throw in the towel?" He shrugged, looking into her wild eyes. They were glistening with the threat of tears, scalding, and fat. "Fine."

Her heels thudded against the floor and stomped out of his apartment. The door slammed shut with a heavy thud. When she was alone the tears escaped. They pushed onto her cheeks, streaming down her soft skin. It was a scene of youthful pain, the first cut. A panicked breath caught in her throat, a weight on her chest. She was hyperventilating now, the memories of abandonment flooding her mind. Now she was alone, shut out in front of his sealed door. Just like that, it was all over. There was no constellation prize or closing statement, just pain. What stung the most was that she didn't have items to collect from his apartment. There was no trace of her in his life. But he coated every inch of her small apartment. The paint from his palette was the tint that covered her eyes, rose-colored glasses of his love. She saw everything with his hues, a strip of his preferred shade in every wall of her brain.

Jimmy looked at her, seeing the pain echoing on her face. It was still haunting her. The ghosts of her past lived inside the cavernous heart that occupied her chest. "I'm sorry, love, that sounds awful. I understand why seeing him again made you so upset. He sounds like a wanker."

His slang made her giggle, a strained laugh filled with a bittersweet pain. "It's no matter now. It's all over, been many years. I suppose I'm a fool for even stressing over it." She dismissed her feelings, pushing tears off the sides of her face.

"No, no, you're not. Your first love isn't something that ever goes away. The pain stays forever, in some capacity." His hand rested atop hers, playing with the flesh that coated her frame.

"You know what the worst part of all of this was?" "What?" "I bought him that stupid ticket for his trip." This made him laugh and she joined in, a sorrowful sound of wheezing. He looked at her again, seeing the pain melting slightly. It was like glittering snow, shrinking under the loving touch of the sun. "At least I have you now. Someone who I feel really cares for me. Even if it took a while for that to happen." "Nonsense. I've always cared for you." "No, the trusting." She said. "You didn't trust me?" "Not totally, not for months." When his face stood still, twisted in pain, she elaborated. "You must understand, you are a Rockstar who asked me out and basically moved me in on the first date. I thought for the first few months that this was a fleeting fling." She spoke nervously, playing with the ring enveloping his index finger.

"I guess I can understand that. I was afraid for a long time to really speak to you about how I felt. I thought you wouldn't reciprocate. I was afraid of losing you. But I see now that it was in vain. We are deeply entranced with one another; I can see it in your eyes. You feel the same way I do, and we share a deep connection." He danced around the words he truly wanted to speak. He was lying, telling a half-truth.

He was still afraid, honestly, too scared to jump off the ledge. When he'd brought up his feelings of love in the past, it wasn't always met with enthusiasm. He'd also used promises of his love to get what he wanted, something he was trying to avoid now.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm not scared to be honest with you anymore. I see that you welcome it with open arms, you embrace me, no matter what I have to say."

Love made liars of everyone, specifically the two lying together now. She was terrified of him, clinging desperately to the walls that separated her heart from his harsh mouth. He could say the words that would tear her down at any point, could wave her off and tell her it meant nothing in a matter of seconds. It is a heavy hand that can wipe away the hard-wrought foundation away in seconds. She was blind to his delicate and light fingers, the way the lithe mechanisms worked away at her heartstrings in the gentlest of manners. He wasn't the man to crush her, he wouldn't dream of it. They were two lovers speaking endlessly of their feelings, one scared to be brazen, and one too blind to see the capacity at which the other would go to avoid true intimacy.

Now they lay down for bed. The sun had set, and the moon was showing, paintings murals on the walls of the hotel room. The scene that lies in their room was an image of love. The couple lay in bed, creating an air of trust as they talked. Their usual topic of conversation was thrown, and she delved into her feelings.

"I still don't really know what I want to do. Each day is an exploration of a dark path for me. But one thing I know for certain is that I was supposed to meet you. We were fated. That day I wasn't even supposed to be there. Allison was going to be your photographer, but she called in sick. And the moment I met you I saw everything. I saw our future, our love. I'm so happy every day that I have you." Her words were low in the dim of the night, being absorbed by his skin due to their proximity. Their lips twisted into matching smiles, mirroring their contentedness for one another. It was there, in a hotel room in San Diego, that something changed. Their hearts had opened, totally vulnerable with clear skin that exposed the delicate and vital workings of their minds. They talked in length about childhood, aspirations, traumas, and other life-altering occurrences. The two reached a new understanding, delving deep into their psychologies and producing a profound and unknown intimacy. "I feel like this is what I've been waiting for. I've spent my whole life in bated breath, searching for something. I hadn't known quite what it was until I found you. You are a key that's opened all my doors, pushed all my windows open. You're a smoke in my lungs, one that is wholly cleansing and alluring." He spoke words of affirmation now, toying with the ends of her hair. His eyes glistened with intense lust, one not intended for matters of the flesh. His fixation was on her figure, the gentle curve of her waist connecting with her hip, a smooth and righteous sight. This did not mean he was longing to consume her body. The desperate flicker in his eyes, set on her skin, was an effect of his need for closeness. He wanted to feel her skin under the calloused pads of his fingertips, to be enraptured in the scent of her. An orgasm was the least of his concerns at this moment. He was content to touch her. She too wanted desperately to hold him. A spell of love was put over them, causing her to pull him in close. He was first facing her, lips dangerously close, but she encouraged him to turn over. Finally, he pressed himself against her, their bodies in perfect contour as they molded together. The expanse of his spine dug into her commodious chest as he took note of the feeling of her. The swell of her chest was soft and fleshy like sweet, summer fruit. His longing to touch her vanished when he felt her deft fingertips in his hair, massaging his scalp. His eyes rolled in his head at her calming touch. He was almost asleep in an instant. As she explored every inch of his crown his frame grew smaller in her arms. He was shrinking under her touch, morphing into the child he described. She imagined him sitting at the breakfast table, munching away at toast and guzzling tea, just as he had delineated earlier. A maternal instinct grew in her. She was now watching over the man she lied with, protecting him from the fallacies that plagued his mind, ones that had been developed over a lifetime of undue criticism. Her mind raced over the picture he had painted of a demure boy, latched to his mother's side, one who closed his eyes and shook his head at any chaos or change. He told her of his propensity to hide. He found a spot everywhere he went to tuck himself into, shielding his sensitive heart and prying eyes. She imagined now that she was holding that boy, bringing him impossibly close to the beating spot in her chest. His eyes were still shut, having fluttered closed the moment he felt the heat of her body against him. A gentle hum built in the back of his throat when her hands found his neck, massaging away at the tense muscles. He was melting completely under her touch. His lips cracked open, a sigh escaping. This caused a laugh to ripple from her, disrupting her attack on his worries. He could feel them burning off now, steaming as they flew from him. When her tired hands stilled, he turned over, gaze resting on her reposeful face. Her eyes were still ragged and red, stained with tears. The beauty that danced on her features was not understated, still present even in the stale sadness. Traces of the tantrum existed but threatened her splendor not. A quiet production began, a duet that neither rehearsed. He reversed their roles, now cradling her tired frame in his arms. His hands explored her body, drawing patterns over the fabric of her clothing. It was soft, a gentle plea for closeness. Tears pricked in her eyes, foreboding and terrifying her as they threatened to release. A sniffle built in her, echoing through the quiet room. This caught his attention, causing him to pull her impossibly close. He petted her hair and kissed each inch of her that he could reach. The tears scalded her face, cascading in a stream of sadistic madness. His thumbs wiped these tears, washing her pain and drinking as it drained from her pores. She felt peaceful in his grasp. He held a paternal grip on her, slowing rocking as she wept. His patience was fatherly, soft, and affirming in the way only belonging to a man totally in love. In this protective hold, relaxation befell her, rest finally finding her. His hands tangled in her hair, even long after she fell into a sleep. He stayed up for half the night, leaning over her and listening to the steady composition of her breathing. A feeling fell over him, shaking him. Never before had he felt so completely at home in a person, naked and eased under her gaze. He was drowning in love, lungs wetted by her treacly tongue.

Taglist:

@anothercanyonlady , @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 , @seventieswhore , @jimmypages , @jimmys-zeppelin , @jimmysdragonsuit13

#capricorn season #jimmy page #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page x reader #jimbert #led zeppelin #classic rock fandom #classic rock #classic rock imagine

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