#what exactly was gabriel supposed to do? from the moment he was born every single person in his life decided he was evil

[suttttton]

watched the movie Malignant today and I have some thoughts:

1) "person is born evil and we gotta kill them" is the worst trope ever

2) there is an endless sequence in the last third of this movie that's just the monster killing people with acrobatics and a big knife and I have never been so bored in my life and I hate the filmmakers for making me sit through it

[demonicputto]

The Star

This is an excerpt from a much longer series, but it’s a Christmasy flashback and it stands on its own, so I thought I’d post it on tumblr for the holiday season. It’s based on Neil Gaiman’s musings on possible Christmas Special plots. 

Aziraphale paced his rented room in Bethlehem, wringing his hands and sighing heavily. He was accomplishing nothing and in front of him sat a stark reminder of what he ought to be doing. Gabriel had visited all of three days ago, looking, somehow, more smugly handsome than usual.

Aziraphale had been set up in Rome at the time, trying his best to exert some positive influence and also enjoying the wine. He’d known, with some vague detail, that Very Important Things were happening in Judaea but he had not been roped into any of that. This was an honor well above his current rank. No less than Gabriel himself had been charged with annunciating the child’s birth to his mother. When Aziraphale tried to picture it, he only ended up pitying the poor woman.

But no one much cared what he thought, and so he was surprised when he found Gabriel at his front door with a list of tasks and orders to pack up for Bethlehem.

“We’ll be back when the child is born of course,” Gabriel had explained. “The whole host is getting ready, but until then there’s a few things you need to get done. There’s just the rooms for the family, some general blessings to ease their passage, some announcing to shepherds, oh, and we’re going to send up a special star as kind of a message. Got the supplies right here, so you can get on that.”

So here he was, job only partially complete, and too much left to do. The child would be born two days hence and he hadn’t even gotten the chance to stop by Jerusalem and pay his taxes yet. A knock on the door set his teeth on edge. This was the last thing he needed just now.

“I beg your pardon but I’m quite busy at the moment, if you could come back some other time, I would…” He trailed off in shock when he saw who was before him. “Crawly!”

When had he seen him last? It had been centuries certainly, but Crawly looked very much the same as he had the last time they’d met. Long red hair curling down to frame his face. He grinned, probably pleased to have caught Aziraphale off guard, and slithered his way into the room.

“Thought I sensed you, angel. What are you doing in this backwater anyway? It’s not very interesting.” He peered around the house with interest, but his slitted eyes soon found their way back to Aziraphale.

“What is this? Some kind of spy mission, I’m sure.” Aziraphale folded his arms firmly. “Come to find out about our plans concerning the holy child, I suppose.”

“There’s a holy child?”

His wily face went briefly guileless and Aziraphale cursed himself. “Did you really not know? Oh, now I’ve done it. I just can’t do anything right, these days.”

“Woah, hey, angel. This wasn’t a spy mission, honest. Just curiosity, plain and simple. I won’t go tattling, probably just create extra work for me anyway.”

Aziraphale exhaled. “Well, I suppose that’s one thing not gone belly up then.”

“What’s got you so down on yourself?”

“Management has given me more responsibility than I’ve had since… well, since the bit with the sword if you must know. I’m supposed to be making sure the birth goes smoothly, easing the journey here for his mother and making sure they’ve got a place to stay. I already made a mess of that first bit. I tried to get her and her husband a pair of magnificent steeds, but there was this whole kerfuffle and somehow it’s just one donkey now.”

Crawly sucked air in through his teeth. “I can see the problem there”

“And there’re so many people trying to get to Jerusalem to pay their taxes that the rooms in every inn keep filling up. I’ve been stopping by every inn each day and buying up the rooms that are available for the next week, but they won’t give them to me until the current inhabitants move on. Still, there should be more than enough space for the child and whatever followers arrive to rest in comfort. I’m so worried something else will go wrong.”

“What else is there?”

With a wavering hand, Aziraphale pointed to an unassuming box that sat in the middle of his unneeded bed. Crawly stepped forward, reaching out, before Aziraphale grabbed his wrist. “I’m not sure you ought to touch that. Gabriel gave them to me. It’s supplies for star making. There’s supposed to be a glorious one to announce the child’s arrival. But I’m a guardian; I was never part of any creative department. It’s going to be a disaster.”

Crawly kept staring at the box, looking for all the world like a snake in a charmer’s basket. Despite Aziraphale’s warning he touched it, movements oddly tender, and opened it to peer inside. The contents shone out, hitting the planes of his face and the ringlets of his hair in such a way that Aziraphale became suddenly aware of just how beautiful he was. Then Crawly snapped the box shut and was silent. Feeling, somehow, that it would be shameful to interrupt whatever he was thinking at the moment, Aziraphale stayed quiet as well.

Then he finally spoke, “You know, I could make it for you.”

Aziraphale spluttered, this had to be some sort of trap. “I’m in enough trouble already without you playing tricks.”

“I’m serious, angel. I… I used to do stars. It’s not exactly difficult. Could be… could be fun to give it a go again. See if I still got it. It’s not like I’m ever gonna get the chance some other way.”

Against his better judgement Aziraphale agreed. He told himself later that it was because the stress had gotten to him, but it had more to do with the look on Crawly’s face.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The child had been born. The earth received her king. Men their songs had employed. The fields and floods, rocks, hill and plains had repeated the sounding joy. Aziraphale had heralded it all to the shepherds. His heart had been full, so briefly with pride, but now he sat, curled up beneath the sky outside Bethlehem’s walls cursing himself.

A pair of black sandals came into view and then Crawly settled down beside him. “What’s got you so down? Things must’ve gone well. It’s so holy out tonight I can hardly breathe. ‘Slike when there’s too much humidity.”

“It went well in general, I suppose, but it didn’t go well for me. Oh, Gabriel is going to be furious! I’m certain to be demoted again.” Fiddling with the hem of his robe did not provide much relief from his anxieties.

“What’s happened then?”

“I muddled up the inns! I left before they arrived, you see. I wanted to be ready for heralding with the shepherds. I neglected to tell a single innkeeper what I’d rented all the rooms for! So of course there wasn’t any place left for them to stay. The Holy Child was born in a barn, Crawly! Because of me!” Aziraphale looked at him, pleading. “Could you just leave? I don’t need anyone gloating.”

“You see me gloating? I’m not gloating. You know what your problem is, angel? You haven’t learned how to handle management, that’s what. So the kid was born in a barn, don’t tell them it was an accident. Tell them it was a plan.”

Aziraphale glared at him. “And what good would that do? That’d be even worse!”

“No, you just got to spin it. Say that, er…” He paused, brow crinkled as he thought. His eyes darted back and forth, though he was only looking at the sand two feet in front of them. Then he grinned. “Got it. Tell them it’s symbolic. Tell them that since this kid is supposed to be born for the good of the world, or whatever, that he had to come from humble beginnings. That he’ll better represent the everyday people instead of just kings or shit like that.”

Aziraphale gazed at him in wonder. He really shouldn’t be thinking about how brilliant the demon was. “You know, that could actually work!”

“See. It doesn’t always matter what you do, just how you explain it to the boss.”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said, feeling altogether too fond of the creature beside him. “And thank you for dropping off the star yesterday. It’s a shame they didn’t end up using it.”

“What do you mean they didn’t?”

He sounded offended, and Aziraphale tried to be gentle as he pointed to the light above them. “When Gabriel came to pick it up yesterday, he told me a few other angels had made stars of their own and that the Almighty would be choosing among them.”

“Did you look inside the box before you gave it over?”

“Well no, but-”

“Then why don’t you think that one’s mine?”

Aziraphale looked up. The star that hung above them, now thousands of times the size it had first been, was the most gorgeous he had ever seen. It was like a diamond with a million sides, each casting out lights of silver and gold woven together with light. Spots of refracted color could be seen, but only when you looked at it just right. He’d assumed it had been made by a master crafter, not a demon picking up a hobby again for the first time in four million years.

“Is it yours?”

“Yeah,” Crawly said huffily. “So don’t act surprised when your boss comes around praising you for it.”

“Oh, Crawly. I’d no idea you were so talented. It’s simply breath taking!”

The demon stood abruptly and kicked at the sand. “Yeah well. I should get going anyway. The air here is too thick with holiness. I’ll be seeing you around, angel. I always do.”

Aziraphale watched him go. They’d tricked Gabriel, that was obvious, but he could not imagine that they’d fooled the Lord. She’d handled the star. She’d placed it in the heavens. Had she not been able to sense the truth of its creator? And if she had, why had she chosen it anyway?

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Link to the original fic, if you’re interested: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24166843/chapters/59699671 

[cristinablackthornkingson]

Shadowhunters Short Story #63.

Thank you to @lightwoodalltheway for messaging me with this prompt, it was a great idea and I really enjoyed writing this story!

It is a bright August day in London, 1903 when 18 year-old Thomas Lightwood finishes the cure to the demon poison that killed his sister just a few weeks ago. 

Thomas, Cordelia, Lucie and even Grace had gone to great lengths to get the last ingredient for the cure, practically risking their lives by sneaking into the gardens at Tatianna’s Chiswick home to get the plant that would finish the cure. Of course non of them were complaining, The Herondales, Fairchilds, Lightwoods and Carstairs would do anything for one another, even Alistair helped out by persuading Charles to allow Thomas to use Henry’s laboratory to finish off the cure, and staying behind to help him. 

It had only taken Thomas about 20 minutes to finish off the cure, but they were the most terrifying 20 minutes of his life. He may have watched Christopher and their Uncle Henry working on this cure, for weeks now, but he was no scientist like them, he had never done anything like this before and he was terrified to fail, it was too late to save his sister, but he could not bare the idea of it being too late to save all the others who are attacked too, all because of him.

After what feels like an age, Thomas finishes the cure and sits back from the work bench, his shoulders sagging in relief, now he can only hope it really will work. 

“There.” Thomas says in a tone of relief. “There, it’s done. I have finished it.” 

“How do you know? How do you know it will work?” Alistair asks in a curious tone. 

“Well, Kit and Uncle Henry wrote down every step needed to make this cure once they figured out exactly how to make it, the last thing we needed was this plant from my Aunt Tatianna’s garden, though I suppose we will not know for certain if it works, until we try it.” Thomas  explains, rubbing at his heavy and bleary eyes, exhausted from worrying so much about Christopher and from working on the cure. 

“Well then we best go to The Silent City, every second is precious.” Alistair says, helping Thomas to his feet, clearly able to see how exhausted and worn out the other boy is. Thomas nods as he slips on his coat. 

“Thank you Alistair, for persuading Charles to allow me to use the lab and for staying behind with me.” Thomas quietly says.

“I-I did not do anything, I just sat here and watched you, no more use than Matthew’s dog.” Alistair quietly says.

“You kept me company in an extremely stressful and terrifying situation, you had faith in me, unlike Charles. And, I think you are far more charming than Oscar, though do not tell Matthew I said that or he will disown me.” Thomas laughs, as he and Alistair ascend the stairs and walk out into the courtyard, toward the carriage. 

“I did not stay for you or your sake, it was for Charles, to give him piece of mind and make sure you did not blow up his house.” Alistair snaps, spoiling Thomas’ good mood.

20 minutes later the boys arrive at the nearest entrance to The Silent City. They make their way down to the first level in complete silence, Alistair walking behind Thomas, holding his witchlight so they can see where they are going and so he can catch Thomas if he slips, while holding the cure.

When they reach the first level they are greeted by Brother Enoch, who almost makes a very jumpy and nervous Thomas jump out of his skin, when he steps out of the shadows. 

Thomas Lightwood and Alistair Carstairs, what brings you to The Silent City? Brother Enoch’s cold and toneless voice echos in their minds. Thomas swallows nervously before beginning to speak. 

“W-we... we need to see Uncle_ Brother Zachariah, please it is urgent, it is in regards to the cure for the demon poison, for my cousin Christopher and everyone else who has been afflicted by the poison.” Thomas stammers nervously. 

Very well, follow me. Brother Enoch says, before soundlessly turning and making his way down the next set of stairs, never once checking to see if the boys are following him.

A few minutes later the arrive in the infirmary of The Silent City, a bare stone-walled room with two rows of single beds with starch white sheets, standing out against the dull grey of the walls and floor. At least 10 of the beds are taken up, all with Shadowhunters who were attacked by the Khora demons.  Thomas’ gaze is drawn straight to Christopher, who is in the bed nearest the entrance. His face is pale, his brown hair lying flat for once, when usually it is stuck up at every odd angle imaginable, his eyes are closed and his glasses have been neatly and lovingly folded and put on the nightstand, next to his bed. 

In this moment Thomas feels as if he has been pushed to the very edge and can no longer cope, seeing his beloved cousin so ill and on the brink of death is threatening to push him over the edge and send him into complete despair and panic, he already lost his sister, he cannot lose his cousin too. Thomas and Christopher are possibly the closest out of the all the cousins, and always have been. They grew up together, Thomas was Christopher’s biggest supporter and defender, right next to Anna and Cecily and Gabriel. He had happily sat and listened to Christopher talking about science and inventions for hours and hours, Thomas had bought Christopher his first real science book, at age 10 with money he had been given for his birthday. He helped Christopher acquire his own beakers, test tubes, etc, so he would not have to constantly be borrowing Henry’s.

Christopher was Thomas’ first baby cousin, he had only been 18 months when Christopher was born but he can still remember walking into The Basilias with his parents and sisters. and seeing his Aunt Cecily sitting in one of the beds with her hair tied back, Uncle Gabriel at her side and a tiny little baby in a pale yellow onsie and wrapped in flame orange colored blanket. He had been fascinated by the baby, his baby cousin Christopher, and was delighted when Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel let him hold Kit. It was in that moment that Thomas and Christopher’s bond began, Thomas immediately felt protective of his baby cousin and did not want to let him go. When Cecily and Christopher came home form The Basilias a few days later, Thomas begged his parents to take him to see his cousin everyday. He had loved helping his Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel with Christopher, always devastated when he himself fell ill and was not well enough to go see Christopher, or to have Christopher over, due to his weak immune system not being able to handle even the flu.

Over the years, when Thomas was still ill and sickly, before he got better, when he was allowed visitors, Christopher would come sit by his bed and tell him all about the latest news in the world of science and talk to him about his latest inventions or read to him from his science books. 

Now the roles are reversed, Thomas is the one visiting a very ill Christopher, and he simply does not know it he can take it. 

You may wait here, Brother Zachariah will be along in a moment. Brother Enoch tells them, before stepping back into the shadows, no doubt to make sure they are not up to no good. 

Sure enough, a few minutes later Brother Zachariah steps into the room, his hood drawn back, the way it had always been when he would visit Thomas and tend to him, when Thomas was ill as a child. 

“Uncle Jem!” Thomas exclaims, darting to his Uncle’s side. “I finished it, the cure for the demon poison, I have it here!” He exclaims in a rushed tone. 

Well done Thomas, how must it be given to the patients? Jem calmly asks. 

“It’s a salve, we need to put it on their wounds, that is what Christopher and Uncle Henry told me.” 

Very well, let us try it and hope it works. Jem says, gently taking the box containing the salve, from his nephew. 

“Give it to Christopher first, please. We would not have found this cure without him, he should be healed first.” Thomas says in a shaky tone. Jem nods.

Alright, you come with me Thomas, if this works it will be good for Christopher to have a friendly and familiar face to wake up to. Thomas nods and follows his Uncle to Christopher’s bed.

As Jem unwinds the bandages around Christopher’s chest, Thomas kneels next to his cousin’s bed, holding his hand tightly. 

Just a few seconds after Jem applies the salve to Christopher’s wounds, Christopher begins to stir. Soon the color returns to his face and he blinks open his eyes, squinting at the bright witchlight filling the room. 

“Kit! Are you alright? How do you feel?” Thomas asks in an urgent tone, leaning forward to push Christopher’s hair out of his face, cupping his face in his hands and looking for any sign that the cure did not work. 

“Ahh get off Tom! You are worse than mama for fussing.” Christopher exclaims, pushing his cousin’s hands away. 

“Sorry, but you are alright?” Thomas asks, handing Christopher his glasses. 

“Yes, I am perfectly fine. You did it then, you finished the cure?” Christopher hopefully asks, slipping his glasses back on and pushing himself up into a sitting position. Thomas nods. 

“I did, but you did all the hard work Kit, you and Uncle Henry. By The Angel I am just so glad you are alright, I could not have bared it if I lost Barbra and you.” Thomas says in a relived tone. 

“It was a three person effort Tom, you, me and Uncle Henry, it could not have been done without any of us.” Christopher says, raking a hand through his hair. 

“Actually it was more of an 8 person job, I could not have gotten the final ingredient without Jamie, Lucie, Cordelia and Grace, and Alistair helped too, he persuaded Charles to allow me to use Uncle Henry’s lab to finish off the cure. I think Lucie is going to end up writing a story about what we went through to get that last ingredient, most of us almost died, but I know we would all do it again, for you.” Thomas tells his cousin. “Can I hug you?” He asks, knowing Christopher does not like to be hugged or touched at all really, he hates it when Cecily ruffles his hair or kisses his cheek and calls him her brilliant little boy. 

“Only if you promise to tell me the story of how you and the others got the last ingredient.” Thomas grins and hugs Christopher tightly.

“I will do anything you want Kit, I am just so glad you are okay.” He says, ruffling his cousin’s hair as he pulls back from the hug. 

“Gah! When did you turn so sappy Thomas? You know when mama says to give me a hug for her, you do not literally have to do it.” Christopher grumbles, making Thomas laugh.

“Uncle Jem, when can Kit come home?” Thomas hopefully asks, grasping Christopher’s hand again and looking at Uncle Jem, who is now tending to Ariadne. 

Soon Thomas, a day or two perhaps. But do not worry, you can come visit him as often as you like now. Jem assures him, seeing glimpses of himself and William at that age. If Thomas were not already 18, Jem would not have been surprised if he and Christopher became Parabatai.

“Tom, did you bring me any of my science books?” Christopher hopefully asks. If he is to be stuck down here fro two more days he would like to use the opportunity to do some more reading for his next experiment or invention. 

“Afraid not, old chap. I was mostly concerned about getting to you before the demon poison did. I will bring some tomorrow if you like.” Thomas offers. Christopher smiles and nods. 

“Thank you Tom, oh and if Cordelia is coming could you ask her to bring some of those lemon tarts she brought to the picnic in regent’s park?” Christopher hopefully asks, his eyes back to their usual brightness and full of intelligence and kindness. Thomas laughs and nods. Only their Christopher would be thinking of science books and lemon tarts after coming back from the verge of death. 

Thomas stays with Christopher for about another hour, before Jem gently tells him that Christopher needs to rest now, but Thomas can come back in the morning. 

“I will see you tomorrow Kit, I love you.” Thomas says, teasingly ruffling his hair again. 

When Thomas reaches the exit to the room, he is greatly surprised to see Alistair still there, leaning against the wall, witchlight in hand. 

“Alistair! I thought you would have left an age ago.” Thomas says in a tone of surprise. 

“I had to wait for you, I couldn’t very well take the carriage and leave you here, Lightwood.” Alistair informs him, folding away his mundane newspaper. 

“I could have walked.” Thomas says, as they start climbing the stairs. Alistair shakes his head. 

“Too dangerous, with the Khora and Mandikhor still out there, you know what the Clave said, we should travel in pairs or groups now, never alone.” Alistair says.

“Oh, well thank you.” Thomas says, still a bit shocked that Alistair waited for him. 

“That’s alright. Listen, Lightwood. Would you... perhaps like to go for a drink? You probably need it after the evening you have had and frankly, so could I.” Alistair asks, trying to keep the shy tone out of his voice. He does not want Lightwood to realize that he actually likes him, as more than a friend, and wants to spend time with him. 

“Alright, we could go the The Devil Tavern, if non of the others are there we can go up to the room the boys and I rent, so we can actually hear one another when we talk.” Thomas says, as they walk toward the carriage. 

An hour later, Thomas and Alistair are sitting in opposite arm chairs in The Merry Thieves rented room, above The Devil tavern, talking as they sip on glasses of brandy.

“Cordelia has told me about this place, it must be nice to have somewhere private to gather with your friends, away from nosy adults.” Alistair quietly says, looking around him and wishing he had somewhere private like this where he could meet Charles, so they did not have to sneak around, stealing kisses for five minutes here or there. If they had a room like this they would not have to worry about anyone seeing them. Alistair is sure if he looked he could find somewhere like this, but Charles would likely never agree to it. He seems ashamed of his feelings for Alistair, and though he says he loves him, Alistair is not convinced. The only thing Charles seems to love is his job.

“It is, I love my parents and sisters... well, sister now, but it is nice to get away sometimes and spend time alone with my friends. You know, I am sure the others would be happy to accept you into our little group, I could ask them.” Thomas says, sending a spark of hope through Alistair. It would be nice to have friends, and maybe he could confide in these friends about his preference for men. Christopher’s sister Anna is exclusively attracted to women, Matthew Fairchild is attracted to both men and women, and even sweet Lucie seems to harbor feelings of more than friendship, for his sister.

“Do you think so?” Alistair hopefully asks, sitting forward eagerly. 

“Yes, absolutely, I will ask them the minute I next see them, you will fit in perfectly with us!” Thomas cheerfully tells him. Alistair’s heart races with the thought of possibly being accepted, of finally having people to confide in. He never thought Thomas Lightwood of all people, would make him feel the way Charles does, but treat him so much better than Charles treats him. 

Maybe it is the alcohol, maybe it is the stress after such a long day and the relief of knowing that all those who were attacked by the Khora are now well, or maybe it is just his own desire. Whatever it is, it is what makes Alistair set his glass down, drop to the floor next to Thomas, take his face in his hands and kiss him.

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

The Nual Family Onion - CH 2

Title: The Nual Family Onion

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Destiel 

Rating: Lemon

Warnings: minor character death   

A/N: Sooooo..... I know I have chapter one definitely posted on here, but for some reason that's it? Even though I was sure I had posted other chapters as well. But alas... damn tumblr. So I shall post the other chapters that I already have posted on AO3, here's chapter two, the others will follow tomorrow XD Sorry friends!! <3

That being said, if you were supposed to be tagged in this can you let me know, cuz I guess I lost everything... 

AO3

Masterlist

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Chapter two:

     An hour later Dean was standing in front of Castiel's door again, though this time slightly more nervous then he was before. He had finally agreed to go out with him, to at least give Dean a chance to get to know him, and for him to get to know Dean. It was all he had wanted since the first moment he saw Castiel, and now that he had it, he felt like he was going to throw up. 

     He took a breath to try and steady his raging stomach and rang the doorbell before he could turn and run, and Castiel's two brothers answered the door. 

     "Dean! Come in!" 

     The one with the accent reached out and took Dean by the arm and pulled him inside, the other instantly grabbing at Dean and looking him over. "You look great, Dean-o! Cassie will be ready in just a minute."

     And as if on cue Castiel came walking down the stairs, a picture of heaven in Dean’s eyes. When he reached the bottom he didn't even have words to say as he stood in front of Dean, and it was one of Castiel's brothers who nudged him out of his trance. 

     "You look great, Cas!" And he did, all done up in a tight pair of black jeans with a light blue button up, hair mussed just right. 

     "As do you, Dean." 

     "Doesn't he though!" Balthazar stepped forwards with Gabriel and both started grabbing and pulling at Dean again, "He's so handsome, Castiel, I'm a little jealous!"

     Dean blushed, and Cas stepped towards him to bat his brothers hands away, "I don't know if they introduced themselves or just groped you, but it was probably the latter. These are my brothers, Gabriel and Balthazar. Sometimes they don't know how to keep their hands to themselves."

     "Hi, nice to meet you both," Dean shook their hands, then turned back to Castiel, "you ready?"

     He eyed Dean for a moment then turned to his brothers, "Are you sure you're okay to watch him? He's never been without me this late at night."

     "He'll be fine, Cassie," Gabriel assured, "don't worry and just have fun with Dean."

     Cas looked between Dean and back to the stairs a few times, giving Dean an apologetic look, "Whenever you're ready, Cas, take your time."

     Cas couldn't help but smile, then looked to his brothers and took a breath, "He's napping right now, but if he wakes up and gives you any trouble just call me and I'll come right back." 

     "We will be fine, now go," both Balthazar and Gabriel shooed them out the door. 

     "Alright Dean, let's go."

     Cas found himself smiling again when Dean held out his arm for Cas to take and led him down the porch steps and to his car. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

     They found themselves at a lovely little diner. Nothing too fancy, but honestly just perfect for their first date. Dean had grabbed them a booth in the back, allowing them some quiet privacy to get to know one another. After they had ordered some food, Dean was the first to start asking questions. 

     “So, tell me about yourself, Cas,” he leaned in and crossed his arms over the table, “tell me about your son. What's his name?”

     “His name is Jack, he’s three, as you know, but,” Cas leaned in on the table as well, “Jack is not my biological son.”

     “You adopted him.”

     “Yes,” he nodded, “though it was under horrible circumstances.”

     “My youngest brother’s adopted.” Cas looked up and met Dean's eyes as he explained. “Also not under the best circumstances. My dad’s a cop, and when I was eight and my little brother Sam was four, my dad came home one night with Adam. He was one at the time, and his family had been involved in some kind of accident. I don't remember exactly what, but he had no other family to go to so my dad brought him home, said he could stay with us for a while. And of course we all ended up loving Adam and with my dad being chief of police it was easy for them to officially adopt him a few months later.”

     “That was very honourable of your family.”

     Dean smiled at Cas, “My folks are good people, and we love Adam.”

     “Adam was lucky to have fallen into a family like yours.”

     “As is Jack's case as well,” Dean chuckled, “your brothers seem like the fun uncle types.”

     Cas just shook his head with a grin, “They are crazy, but they all love Jack just as much as I do, and they were there to help me when I suddenly found myself a single parent.”

     “If you want to tell me, you can,” Dean reached a hand over the table and placed it on Cas’s arm, “but if you don't want to then that's fine too.”

     “I hardly think this qualifies as decent talk for a first date.”

     Dean shrugged, “We’re getting to know each other, that includes the good and the bad.”

     “I suppose you're right,” he took a breath then looked up to Dean as he explained, “Jack is the son of a very good friend of mine, her name was Kelly. The two of us had been friends since we were in kindergarten together, best friends, completely inseparable. After we graduated highschool I went straight to university, but Kelly decided to take some time off and travel the world. When we were twenty-two she booked a backpacking trip across Europe. She was supposed to be gone for three months, but she showed up on my doorstep not too long after she left and told me she found out she was pregnant.”

     “It happened on the backpacking trip?”

     Cas shook his head with a shrug of his lips, “I have no idea. Kelly never told me who the father was, or if she even knew herself, and I didn't care. I was going to be there to help her no matter what. So we found her a two bedroom apartment and we spent the next few months after that helping her to prepare for the baby. I helped her get the nursery ready, we had a baby shower for her, I even went to prenatal classes with her. She was just so excited for the baby and so ready to be a mother.”

     “You guys were really close,” Dean gave Cas’s arm a squeeze and Cas laid his hand over Dean’s.

     “We were, she was like family to us.” As he continued on with the story Cas found himself thoughtlessly stroking his fingers over Dean’s knuckles, it was comforting and grounding. “When Kelly went into labour she was at our house. We were in the backyard sitting by the pool when it happened and instantly I knew something was wrong. I know childbirth is a painful experience but it was different, she was in more pain then she should have been. So we rushed her to the hospital and the doctors allowed her to bring me into the delivery room. She wasn't in labour for long before she gave birth to Jack, and he was only in her arms for a few moments before alarms started going off and I could tell she was fighting unconsciousness. 

     She suddenly handed me the baby and told me she wanted me to make sure I was the one who took care of him, that I needed to be there for him and make sure he had a good life. She told me I had to be his father. I didn't know what to say, and just before she passed out she called a nurse over and told her that the baby's name was to be Jack Novak, my last name.”

     “She knew,” Dean stated with a nod.

     “Yes, I think she knew, just as I did, that when she went into labour that there would be complications with Jack’s birth. And as the doctors were examining her and trying to solve the problem, she knew there was a chance that she wasn't going to make it.”

     “It was a smart move,” Dean had since taken Cas’s hand in his own and was now running his fingers over Cas’s knuckles soothingly, “giving the baby your last name meant you wouldn't be denied custody even though you're not blood.”

     “And that's exactly what the doctors told me,” he nodded, not able to look Dean in the eyes anymore, “because of what Kelly did before she died, I was immediately given custody of Jack and child services was never really involved.”

     “Did they find out what the complications were?”

     He shook his head, “After they took her to surgery I was left standing in the room, holding a  baby, no clue what to do, and not too soon after the doctors came back in and told me that they did everything they could but she just faded. They don't know why the complications occurred or how, but there was nothing they could do. And so I was suddenly left with a baby, a single father in less than twenty-four hours.”

     “Well, she chose the right man for the job,” Cas looked back to Dean and he flashed him a small smile, “she knew she could count on you to take care of Jack.”

     “I would have done anything for her,” Cas lifted his free hand up to wipe the small tear trying to escape his eye, “and now I would do anything for Jack.”

     “Does Jack know about Kelly?”

     “I've told him about her, shown him some old pictures,” he nodded, “I didn't think I should dishonour her by pretending she never existed.”

     “That's for the best,” Dean agreed, “he deserves to know who his mom was, she sounds like she was an amazing person.”

     “She was, and I miss her every day, but I know she watches over Jack,” he smiled, then asked, “does Adam know about his parents?”

     Dean nodded, “When he got older my parents told him about them. My dad pulled some old pictures from their files at the precinct, and they took Adam to visit their graves. He still goes occasionally, but he was too young to even remember them when they died. We’re they only family Adam has ever known.”

     “And you've all lived here your entire lives?”

     “Born and raised,” Dean smiled wide, “I can't imagine moving out of Lawrence. When did you guys move here? Before meeting you at the park that day, I had never seen you or your brothers around.”

     “We moved here when Jack was six months old. Our house was already cramped enough as it was with myself, my dad, and my three brothers all living together, and with a baby added in it was just not doable. So we left Ohio and moved here, bought a house with enough space for all of us.”

     “You have three brothers?” Dean was staring at Cas with furrowed brows, “I've met two, Gabriel and Balthazar.”

     “The third brother you haven't met yet because he works with my dad at his construction company, they are both always out late, his name is Gadreel. He's the youngest, Gabriel is the oldest, then Balthazar, then myself.”

     “And Gabriel and Balthazar, what do they do?”

     “Gabriel owns a bakery in town, his store has been doing well so he only goes in when they need him to,” Cas laughed as he looked up and saw Dean practically drooling over the table, “I’m sure he would love it if you taste tested for him. And Balthazar owns a nightclub downtown, so he usually leaves around eleven and comes home early morning. And I work mostly from home as an accountant for my dad's company, that way I can take care of Jack.”

     “First off, you guys are all so successful!” Cas smiled triumphantly, “And second, any time Gabriel needs a taste tester, and I do mean any time, sign me up!”

     Castiel laughed, “I will make sure he knows. And what do you and your family do, Dean?”

     “Dad still works as chief of police, my mom has never worked, she always stayed home and took care of us. Sammy, the middle child, is working towards becoming a big shot lawyer, and Adam, the youngest is in med school. As for me, I’m nothing special,” Dean shied away, '' I work with my uncle as a mechanic at his shop. I was never really one for school, so no hot shot job for me.”

     Cas shrugged, “Lawyers and doctors are good jobs, but mechanics are extremely attractive.”

     Dean perked up at that, squeezing Cas’s hand that he was still holding a little tighter, “You think so?!”

     Cas leaned in and smirked, “Do you wear a blue jumpsuit and come home a little dirty sometimes?”

     Dean just nodded.

     Cas leaned in a little further as he winked and whispered, “Much sexier than any doctor or lawyer I know.”

     He couldn't help it if he blushed a little, or a lot, at Cas’s words, and just after that their food arrived. With one last wink sent Dean’s way, and a deeper shade of blush covering his cheeks from it, the two of them ate their food and continued their night locked in conversation. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

     Dean pulled up to Cas’s house and parked the car, then he jumped out and ran to the passengers side to open his door for him and help him out.

     “Thank you,” Cas smiled and allowed Dean to take his hand and walk him to the front door.

     “So,” Dean began as he shifted from foot to foot while they stood on the porch, “did you enjoy the night?”

     “I did, and,” Cas sighed, turning to look at the door then back to Dean, “as much as I love Jack, it was nice to have a night out, and maybe spending some time without me will be good for him.”

     “Does that mean we get to do this again?” Dean asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

     Cas smiled, “I would very much like to, but… but this has to go slow, Dean. I do have Jack to worry about and no matter what he always comes first.”

     Dean reached down and took both of Cas’s hands in his, “It’s no problem Cas, we can work this at your pace. And as for Jack, whenever you're ready I would love to meet him. If we are going to make this work between us, because I really like you Cas, then I want Jack to like me too. He's as much a part of this as we are.”

     “It means a lot to hear you say that, Dean,” he breathed a sigh of relief, “part of the reason why I haven't dated since Jack came into my life is because I was always worried that no one would see him in that way, as a part of the relationship, and I won't have him neglected.”

     “He won't be, not while im around,” Dean smiled.

     “You are a wonderful man, Dean Winchester,” Cas pulled on Dean's hands and brought him closer, “I am glad you persisted and convinced me to go out with you tonight.”

     “Me too, Cas.”

     The two leaned in further, close enough now for their noses to be touching, but Dean waited for Cas to take the lead. This was at his pace afterall and Dean was going to make damn sure he didn't do anything to push Cas away. 

     “Good night, Dean.”

     “Good night, Cas,” and it was Cas who tilted up and closed the gap, placing a sweet kiss on Dean's lips. 

     It didn't last long, but it was more than enough for Dean at the moment, and when they parted he couldn't help the face splitting grin that covered his face as he watched Cas walk inside. 

     “Call me tomorrow,” Cas said, turning back once he was inside.

     “I will,” and Dean was already counting down the seconds until he could wake up and make a second date with Cas.

~~~~~~~~~~~

     No sooner than Cas was able to close and lock the door was he very quickly bombarded by all three of his brothers. 

     “How did it go?!” Balthazar was practically jumping on the spot waiting for an answer.

     “Brother, I was surprised to find out from Gabriel and Balthazar that you went on a date tonight. Who was it with?”

     Castiel turned his attention towards Gadreel, “I was with Dean Winchester, he’s lived in Lawrence his whole life, and the date went well. We… we are going to go out again.”

     Gabriel was the one to freak out this time, practically squealing, “Aren't you glad we told you to give him a chance!”

     “I am,” he blushed, “but how was Jack while I was gone?”

     “He was fine, brother,” Gadreel answered, “when I got home he was still napping, and when he woke up he did ask where you were, but he settled with watching TV until bedtime. He's sleeping now.”

     “I'll go check on him and then I am going to head to bed myself,” Cas quickly hung his coat then began up the stairs, “and thank you all for watching him tonight.”

     “Any time, Cassie!”

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

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A/N: Let me know what y’all think XD More to come tomorrow!! <3

Tags: @kitsunecastiel

[mxsinistir]

I've just finished Good Omens and I'm in love. Would you write something angary about how the ineffable husbands are forbidden to see each other and fight against everything to get back to each other?? Xxxx

I am so sorry this is late and even if this isn’t exactly what you asked for I hope this still satisfied your need for ineffable husbands dramatic fighting for love content :)

Aziraphale had always hated heaven. It was cold, it reeked of nothing, and the only thing for as far as his thousands of eyes could see was white. White walls, white wings, white thoughts. Shiny, untouched, infinite.

    Eternal. 

    He would spend an eternity here, he realized, the notion still not sinking in. He looked down at the blade in his hand - no flaming sword of Eden’s gates, but angelic none the less. He could slay many a demon with such a weapon. 

    “And you shall,” Gabriel has said to him, puffing out his chest and smiling thinly. “We will triumph over hell in a blaze of glory.” Maybe, maybe not. After all, all of history’s greatest strategists and warriors had walked the road to hell. 

    Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, Julius Ceaser, and most of those that slaughtered in their name. Aziraphale admittedly had few qualms about taking their souls out of the afterlife entirely. 

    “But what of those who didn’t mean to fall?” He asked the Archangel,

    “Aziraphale, everyone that walks the road to hell has good intentions,” As always, Gabriel’s idioms were never quite correctly recited, “No one means to fall. But those who do not repent are doomed to face the merciful wrath of heaven.” Well, wasn’t that an oxymoron, though it was not one that Aziraphale commented on. “You know your part?”   

“I shall descend on London with my battalion,” Aziraphale choked out, forcing a faux-smile. “And I shall fight for the glory of God.” 

    “Very good, Aziraphale we’re all very proud of the work you’ve done over the last six thousand years spent on Earth. I don’t know how you’ve born it!” 

    “With the strength of God,” said Aziraphale, though right now, it seemed as if his faith was chipping away right in front of him as he realized that perhaps his sparkling god wasn’t as glorious as he thought. 

***

    Crowley stared at London for the last time, Big Ben tragically striking high noon for the last time. It had survived fire and blitz and the end of the world before, but not like this. This was really it - no great powers to come and intervene. He could only weep internally as he watched the families huddled together, praying to the forces of heaven who were making all of this happen in the first place. 

    The day of Armaggedon, it rained in London. But when the angels arrived in the skies, the rain began to sizzle and pop. Oil-black wings burned away and scattered into oblivion, blessed clouds of holy water speeding across the sky. 

    Crowley gripped the bow in his hand and watched, staring up at the rain one last time. His rain was earthly, though the droplets around him were not. He cringed and listened to the sound of his comrades’ screams of agony as the holy water dissolved their flesh, their weapons scattering over the ground. 

    The panic was enough to send forces in every which direction, not that there was any escape. While others wasted their energy trying to make a run from the rain, Crowley realized it was of no use. He titled his head back and clenched his fingers white around the bone limbs of his bow. He had lived six thousand years  - more than that even - and had not acquired even a single regret. Only that he would never get the chance to tell Aziraphale goodbye before the holy water took his soul away forever. 

His yellow eyes flickered shut as the rain drew in around him. But it did not touch him. 

    Crowley dared to squint one eye open, and around him was a shield of white feathers. Aziraphale. His angel had come for him. 

    “You-” Crowly stammered out, though as Aziraphale’s arms squeezed tighter around the lanky demon, he found that he could not form words. “You saved me,” And for a moment, everything went still, and he saw the two of them back in Eden, witnessing what they thought then to be the fall of humanity. 

    “Aziraphale!” A voice boomed through the fighting, booming like a thunderhead in the rain, and it didn't sound happy.

    “So I’m assuming Gabriel didn’t tell you to go out of your way to save me?” said Crowley. Azirpahel, dawning a serious expression now, shook his head and drew his sword. The demon watched in awe as flames birthed across the steel, splitting open into the air and cracking against the rain. One swipe, the oppressive holiness of the water was gone, even if only for a moment. But a moment was all the two of them needed to break into a run through the streets of London that they knew so well. Inf act, they knew them better than anybody else, and so no one could possibly catch them, not even the Archangel fucking Gabriel.    

    But the devil often worked harder than any angels, and so while the forces of Heaven were clueless about the street plans of London, Crowley’s gang seemed to be quite keen on following the two. 

    “Can you carry us both?” Crowley asked as he spun around a corner, “In flight? Can you carry us both?” Aziraphale fervently nodded, moving to loop his arm under Crowley’s. But instead, the demon stepped onto the angel’s shoulders, curling his feet around the bones and keeping perfect balance even as the angel shot vertically into the unblessed sky. 

    Crowley drew an arrow back, the tip spitting hellfire as the angels and demons who dared come after them. But it was no use - even with infinite arrows, even the snake of Eden, the demon of the Original sin, was no match for the armies of Heaven and Hell. And if there was anyone they could mutually hate, it was a defector.    

    “Hey, angel?” Crowley asked calmly, “Do we actually know where we’re going?”    “To Adam,” Well that was a good thing, only because Crowley hadn’t actually been expecting an answer. “To reason with him. If he does have all the powers of Christ, then he can stop this.” That’s what they would have to hope. 

“Them,” said Aziraphale

“Yes, I know,” Crowley sighed, “them against us and all of those good things, but how do we find Adam?”    “No, the Them.” said the angel, “They live a few blocks from here. Maybe if we find them, we find Adam.” 

“Or,” Crowley looked over Aziraphale’s shoulders, “He finds us.”

Crowley didn’t remember what happened next. All he remembered was the world falling into black as he pulled Aziraphale close for what he feared might be the last time he might ever feel the warmth of the angel’s lips on his. 

***

    The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and as Aziraphale got to his feet, he looked around and realized that this was far from the fiery hellscape he’d expected to see on Earth. This was Earth, wasn’t it?

    “No way we ended up in the same afterlife,” Crowley mused as he stirred, “Or, after-afterlife, it seems.”

    “No, Aziraphale pressed his nose to the chilly window, Big Ben and other parts of London’s skyline visible in the rising sun. “We’re still on Earth, all right. Which means Adam did it.” 

    “Which means that we did it, angel,” Crowley said in a raspy morning voice, his long arms finding their way around the waist of his other half. 

    “But what does that even mean for us now?” asked Aziraphale, “Are we supposed to go back to our sides now? Pretend this never happened? Wait around for the next ap-”

    “We don't have sides anymore, angel,” said Crowley, his hands finding a place in Zira’s. “We're eon our own side.” And as the redhaired demon pressed his lips onto the angel’s without fear or repercussion for the first time in millennia, Aziraphale decided that he could be very, very, content in his newfound neutrality. 

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

hey so remember like last year when i was re-reading misadventures and fixing typos? (well, i say that, but it was just an excuse to re-read it and write some absolutely absurd commentary on it...) i found old notes in my phone from january with even more so guess i may as well post it because people seemed to find it funny at the time, it’s basically just The Misadventures of Aish Realizing Things though

[yeah so here’s the original notes i’m not even gonna change anything even though lots of Lore has happened in the show and we Know things now, you just get to see what january aish typed]

ok well let’s go then chapters 31-35 oh god

oh yeah the ML Blackout! I remember that

hm it’s occurring to me maaaaaybe I should post a bit of a warning on this chapter. like “yes this starts off stupid and cracky and fluffy but takes a complete 180 in the middle and you will end up sobbing.”

or maybe I should put that as a disclaimer on the whole fic cause it’s one hell of a ride

THE AROACE SCIENCE JOURNAL YESSSSSSS THAT COMES BACK LATER

yeah the reason why the early parts of this chapter are very lighthearted is honestly because the fic was getting a bit too bleak, I needed something cheerful, so paper planes and arm wrestles it was

wait... isn’t this just that scene from Anansi??? where like Nora challenges Nino to an arm wrestle but then he wins because Someone Else Nearby Did A Thing

also this is Peak characterization, damn Aish, you rly outdone yourself, congration

any time I drop the word “inkling” into a fic it is always 100% a splatoon reference

MAX WOW TONE DOWN THE GAY

heh... BI-ceps...

oh my godddd Max trying to play off his ogling as “ah yes I am scientifically studying Kim’s arm muscles ofc, it’s science I swear” is SO frickin funny I’m already losing it

Alix: “scientifically speaking I’m hot therefore you have to lose this arm wrestle” hshdhdghshskkjkdhshs

^literally the kind of nonsense every single teen I know spouts irl

including me when I was a teen, I just said things

(I still just say things)

you can’t bring up the sports bra thing goddammit, I agree it’s cheating because it has the power to one-hit kill anyone in the vicinity

I love how Max thinks his crush on Kim is “under control” while like. visibly swooning over him

OH MY GOD THE PILLOWS SHHDJDHDHDHSKHS

OKAY SO LIKE I was supposed to put the thing about Kim snogging a pillow in chapter 20 but I forgot or something and then I just had to get it in somehow, oh it kills me dead just thinking about it, I’m dying, I’m dead

and the fact that he admits to it as well, holy moly

KIM

K I M

THAT’S GAY

OH WOW

this is the moment when Alix’s Kimax shipper heart was suddenly feeling validated like “omg wait Kim DOES like Max??? like for real??????”

awwwww Kim, Max doesn’t have those kind of superpowers, you just have a crush on him that’s all <3

THE SKATEBOARDING SNEK!!!!!!!!!!!!

“What the heck is that?” “My snake.” DYINGGGG

Kim trying to figure out if the snake is sitting or standing is a whole mood

ohhhhhhhh my gosh poor Alix trying so damn hard to subtly ask Kim if he likes Max and Kim’s just. so DUMB he doesn’t even get it no matter how obvious she is

she’s even trying to pull out those stupid amatonormative “so is he MORE than a friend???” questions just to get this idiot to figure it out because she knows allo-romos are Like That and he still doesn’t get it,,

[future aish says: the word is alloro, past aish. it’s alloro]

AND SO NOW SHE ASSUMES THEY’RE NOT INTO EACH OTHER BECAUSE SHE THINKS EVEN KIM CAN’T BE THAT STUPID

YOU UNDERESTIMATE HIS STUPIDITY

oh no... oh NO.... the letter.... here we go....

btw yes Gabriel had Kim’s grandad assassinated, it was indeed his doing

...isn’t this lowkey the plot of The Lion King?

or Long Live The Queen

hmmm let’s just say in the sequel poor Kim really will have to deal with the stresses of ruling a country >:D

NO MY POOR SON HAVING A BREAKDOWN, I WANT TO HUG HIM

(also can I just say like... this chapter is actually well-written for the most part? I’m actually kinda impressed)

unfortunately I know the feeling of wanting, needing to return home, but it fills you with dread... *hugs Kim forever*

Kim crying all over Max both hurts me and sort of heals me because Max is so sweet and comforting about it ohhh my heeeaaart

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

THIS IS LOWKEY A LOVE CONFESSION I SWEAR, IT’S SO CUTE

chapter 32 being called “Un chat noir” is kinda dumb af but also it just so happened that I accidentally had the chapter called “Coccinelle” be chapter 64, aka exactly double of 32, so that was kinda neat

Plagggggg!!!!!!!!!!

and Wayhem lol, I think I’ve already mentioned how originally this noble was just some random irrelevant unnamed OC until I decided way later it’s gay stalker fanboy

oh yeah that’s how the nobility recognize the royalty, I forgot lol

(also nobles from countries with widespread newspress or tv will recognize them from news reports and stuff I guess)

the fact that Plagg just hates Wayhem is funny to me for some reason

MISADVENTURES

HOLY SHIT I ACTUALLY THREW IN THE ACTUAL WORD

except it was in reference to Adrien... let’s just say that The Misadventures of Imperial Prince Adrien may or may not make an appearance in the sequel >:D

...the Adrienette is literally just in this fic so that people would read it, ngl

hhhhhhhhhhhh okay it’s true Alix is an aro idiot who doesn’t know anything about romance but for once she’s RIGHT, Kim IS in love with Max, but she assumes she’s wrong hshgshdjhdnsnsh

oh my god noooo timeline twin go away and stop giving me nightmares

I still love how they hate each other, that’s some top-notch self-hatred right there and I need to get on their level

[future aish note: no past self!! be nice to yourself!! you are a cool bean!! own it!!]

YOU FOOL... EVERY CLASSMATE WOULD TAKE A SWORD TO THE HAND FOR ALIX, WHY WOULDN’T THEY

ỳïķèš,,,

honestly I probably should stop being lazy and actually go back to like idk chapter 8 and put in an actual monopoly game (it had to have been before the oracle sessions in ch10 at least)

fun fact!! I have indeed very nearly had a fist fight over the last dark blue card in a monopoly game!! also I blatantly cheated, and the main opponent locked someone else (an 8 year old btw) in a cupboard... it was Wild(TM)

me and my irl friend actually came up with the butterfly thing when we were at the cinema once, she made up this random angry gardener OC who stepped on a butterfly after being fired or something lol

I mentioned Rose liking unicorns!!!! before Captain Hardrock!!!!!!!

shdhdhkshs Alix is such a moody emo brat in this fic I adore it

“The only real difference between you and me is one dead butterfly.” goddammit that’s the creepiest fucking thing, I’m genuinely shaking

technically it’s a butterfly’s fault for ALL the timelines which means that we’re all one butterfly away from death at any moment

cheerful stuff

no, no, you’re not trying to block it out on purpose... I’M trying to block it out on purpose bc I’m highkey shamelessly projecting

god I wish my timeline twin would manifest in the astral plane and punch me in the arm too

“Count yourself lucky you’re not a pillow, idiot.” in-context this is contender for Most Cursed Line I Have Ever Written In My Life

and yes Alix was about to straight-up swear

Mylène rollerskating is extremely blessed and good

pfffffffff Max you coward, I stand on swivel chairs all the time

*me, chanting at the spider in my room* KIMAX! KIMAX! KIMAX!

Kim literally making every excuse to not put Max down is amazing honestly

Kim and Max’s origins story is sooooooooooo cute wtf

THIS IS SO BLESSED OH MY HEART

HE’S JUST STANDING THERE CUDDLING HIM I’M

DECEASED

I,,,, swear to god,,,,,,,

so like. I know it’s now canon in the show that Kim really is as oblivious to his feelings as I wrote him in this. but MY GOD. IT’S FRIGGIN PAINFUL

KIM YOU ARE IN LOVE WITH MAX, FULL HOMO, THAT’S WHY YOU’RE FEELING LIKE THIS, IT’S NOT THAT COMPLICATED DAMMIT

oh yeah I wrote the kimax bits rly early and my old url was @queenkubdel haha

aight now a no-kimax chapter, but at least it’s a goodun

there’s that catradora-esque weather girls frenemyship again

Kim having a full-on breakdown when he finds out Alix’s hair isn’t really pink is actually really blessed, no lemme explain

so this universe has magic, right?? so he thinks to himself that the reason his friend has pink hair is because she must be some sort of anime protagonist or Really Important and Cool or something, and it never even occurred to him to doubt her

in other words he’s betrayed because he WANTED HIS FRIEND TO BE A COOL SHONEN HERO

which is both hilarious AND very sweet

...oh wait I’ve scrolled down and it turns out I literally explained all that in the fic itself hhdgjdvzjdjhs

and yeah honestly I can’t blame poor Kim for taking it so badly, he’s still reeling from his grandfather’s assassination so it’s natural his emotions are not exactly Regulated atm

actually when are his emotions ever regulated

1703-1899 hm... might change that since the fic takes place in 1957-1960 so even though it’s a commissioned history of the empire it was before Gabriel was even born so like why would he even care lmao

“Great Western Ocean” so pretentious, just say the Atlantic omg

I’ve been playing way too much civ because the first thing that came to mind was that everyone’s denounced Agreste due to the high warmongering penalties of the industrial/modern eras

Chloé and Kim is one hell of a brotp okay I still firmly believe that

also Chloé still loves her rococo fashion, she’s just toned it down enough that she can fit through doors and it’s not quite as “in your face” towards commoners

listen I know in the show Kim still liked Chloé for a while after Dark Cupid but in this he got over her quicker because his crush on her wasn’t as deep in the first place

Kim literally tells Chloé he gave the brooch to Max and yet STILL doesn’t realize he likes him!!! KIM!!!!!!!!!!

Chlodemption arc yesssssssss

also she’s a lesbeean

(ye Pollen will be in the sequel don’t you worry)

god I’m so proud of her <3

it feels believable too, so I’m proud of myself!! (I’m trying to be nice to myself before next chapter where I will no doubt roast myself so badly I’ll never recover)

outdated laws about marriage... jeez was that cursed foreshadowing or what

YES IT’S IVAN, I LOVE THIS BOY, HE’S SO GRUMPY AND ANGRY ALL THE TIME AND HE HATES KIM

...actually wait this is sibling culture

I literally speak like this to my brother and he’s my best friend so in conclusion Ivan thinks of Kim as an annoying brother

Jalil why are you a historian. just go be a psychologist and stop your sister accidentally hecking up the country

omg the Antarctica thing, I’m just imagining Jalil in the freezing cold with a massive coat on and getting chased by penguins

I love how the timeline twin’s plan was “escape school, force Adrien to get a venomous pet, then abandon him immediately in the middle of nowhere” and later on it turns out she skipped step two and just ditched him lmaoooooo

being so ace that your brain goes straight to “death and murder” before anything else is the biggest mood, I speak from experience

Jalil knows... he had that conversation with Kim in chapter 20... he Knows

“a bit unsupportive” um that is an extreme understatement good grief he was more savage than ME

RISE OF THE KIMAX SHIPPERS

oh don’t worry the venom death still haunts me too

chapter I Hate You... “A rather rotten winter party” well it should have been named A RATHER ROTTEN CHAPTER DO YOU KNOW HOW IMPOSSIBLE THIS ONE WAS TO WRITE OMG I HATE WRITING MYSELF INTO CORNERS

you see I had to have a motive for the timeline twin to explain things properly so that I could put in a really really dumb pun later but that meant I had to unfortunately suffer many allergic reactions again

[future aish note: forgot to mention, i also needed a motive for kim to stop eating chocolate forever, so i had to Curse this chapter as a sacrifice in order to save his life later on]

alright, alright, here we go, I’ll stop procrastinating and just get this over with

oh yeah it’s chapters like these that the fic’s rated T lol

the Adrikim friendship is indeed important... for later... like, plot-relevant levels of important... life-saving levels...

“some event” is the Peace Ball actually and I can’t wait because that chapter’s actually a good one

KIM BRAGGING ABOUT KISSING ADRIEN LAST YEAR IS SO FUCKING FUNNY OH MY GOD I’M LOSING MY MIND???

like last year he was LITERALLY LIKE “oh boo hoo I cannot tell anyone about this because Adrien is Ã Bøyê” and now he’s just like “yeah I kissed a hot boy and what about it???”

to be fair he is on an extreme sugar rush from all the chocolate he ate, which will... be a plot point in just a moment...

PILLOW GIRLFRIEND

I’m the amused nobles, they are me

oh my god Kim we get it you want to kiss someone (Max) and you don’t want to outright say it

holy shit do any of these kids ever think before they speak??? not to sound like the timeline twin or anything but alix... you could have avoided this if you’d bothered to use your one (1) brain cell

[future aish note: bold of me to assume that alix has a brain cell]

Kim wants to now fight his PARALLEL SELF oh my god, get on my level Kim, I want to fight my actual self like right now so there

stfu all of you, this is poisoning my liver

Max is the biggest mood and at least mildly sensible thank god, but he really shouldn’t have left those two alone for even a second

I AGREE PLATONIC LOVE IS UNDERRATED

the chair... the fucking c h a i r... I’m already lying down but I need to lie down harder just to process the absurdity of this

(I think I was gonna have Alix fall off the chair just because that’s hilarious but I forgot)

look I can’t take heartrate seriously but if you ever write it then you are legally required to put in kissing contests or you’re doing it wrong

fudgin Adrienette kiss offscreen and irrelevant

DJWIFI!!! AND ACTUAL PROPER DJWIFI!!!! I was sick of seeing it treated as some kind of pair-the-spares beta couple so I flipped the script and had them literally call out that trope while treating Adrienette as irrelevant instead, which is also why the sequel will be extremely djwifi-centric

“super swanky bae” please stop misusing commoner slang I’m begging you

THERE’S THE PLOT POINT I WAS TALKING ABOUT

Theo was right here, he witnessed with his own eyes how much chocolate Kim ate, so he knows for a fact that if you give Kim chocolate he will scarf it down without a second thought... so hypothetically if one sent him poisoned chocolates... dyou see where I’m going with this...

oh and Theo still has like every job btw

Alya!!!! no!!!!! hire him again!!!!!!!! then he won’t send the chocolates!!!!!!!!!! aaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!

there goes me hinting how alyadrininette is the ultimate ot4 again

...do I really wanna scroll down and keep going? no I don’t but I guess I gotta, and relive every one of my most embarrassing school sleepovers in the process

full offence to everyone bothering to read this but kissing sounds gross, actually

(for the record it was probably like... 10 seconds or something idk it was Not Long At All)

“probably not more than 5 minutes” omg I just said it was 10 seconds??? hmmm m okay like 20 seconds maaaybe, Kim just has no sense of time perception

neither do I based on my microwaving skills

SHIT THIS IS LITERALLY A SCHOOL SLEEPOVER

INNOCENT DUMBASS AROACE ASKING “what does that mean? what’s this? what’s that? it’s okay you can tell me :-)”

omg I forgot the snake was there ahshdhdkshfs I’m the snake, probably wants to launch itself out of the window so big mood

most of the fic so far had Alix being really aro so I was like damn... gotta make her really ace too

(if I ever bother writing the Kimdine AU then you actually get an aro character who isn’t ace, because we need more of them, but I won’t say who) (okay fine it’s Luka)

I tend not to be too British in my writing so as not to give the Americans heart attacks whenever they see someone referring to their mother as “mum” etc, but like... sometimes you just gotta throw in the word “snogging”

(I’m typing this out on my phone rn and it has exactly 69% battery, I hate this and also hate that I felt the need to mention that)

THE HOCKEY THING MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE BEEN BASED OFF A REAL LIFE THING. *SWEATS NERVOUSLY*

honestly I was soooooo tempted to actually write The Talk bit, it would have been the funniest thing ever, but I was also 99% sure I would have to change the rating to M (despite it not even remotely being smut lol, just a regular biology lesson) and there was no way I was doing that, pretty sure I pushed the T rating at some points as it is

[future aish: god i am still so tempted to write it. man, i’m tempted. it would be the funniest thing. but no... i have sworn not to write anything above a T rating so guess i won’t.]

YEAH THE THROWING UP THING TOO WAS DEFINITELY NOT BASED ON REAL LIFE OR ANYTHING *MORE NERVOUS SWEATING*

(it genuinely wasn’t a flowerpot though. it’s my life’s goal to throw up in a flowerpot and I still haven’t achieved it.)

all of this is an Ace Mood(TM)

also I love how elaborately I’ve worded this, like yeah idiot royal teenagers are too royal and posh to ever bother just saying the word “sex” like a normal person

to any 17 year old aces: you aren’t too young to know, I told myself that aggressively when I was 17 but now I’m 22 and I’m still just as ace as I always was sooooo yeah

I also hope I can wake up tomorrow and forget I read this trash

well tbh... it’s not total trash... it highkey reminds me of my school days, like, maybe that was subconscious or something... god who even knows

jeez if timeline twin slapped me in the face I’d just keel over and die from sheer terror, other than that that’s HILARIOUS

timeline twin: “YOU HAVE ONE (1) BRAIN CELL NOW P L E A S E CONSIDER USING IT”

fuckeninf hell listen,,, so when I was writing this chapter I didn’t know I was aro... I mean, I was kinda questioning it?? but all I knew was I was ace, and that me not knowing that as a teenager almost totally screwed me over because like

to be normal or to feel normal there’s things you do or say that you don’t want, and things you know would happen or whether you want something or not you’ll take it because you think you’re expected to, because otherwise you’ll have to confront yourself with the fact that something is wrong with you and you don’t know what or why or how to fix it

and being aro on top of that is misunderstanding how to navigate close friendships because of this fundamental fear that if you want to be close with someone then friendship can’t suffice, that how much you care about them doesn’t matter

and things I did or almost did, or had the chance to do and only stopped because (awfully enough) crippling anxiety which ironically saved me (let’s just say the dude turned out to be a creep)... yeah basically this is all a callback to that aroace teenager feel where you can’t help not being true to yourself because you don’t want to, because you don’t know what’s wrong or right, only what’s “normal” and the ache of knowing that you’re not, no matter how much you try

and I didn’t know I was aro while writing this but in hindsight it’s easy to see how that played into it too, and writing this definitely played a part in me realizing I’m aro and was somehow trying to work through some very pent-up feelings about friendship and closeness with people, as well as pent-up feelings about being ace and how that tied into everything too

...in short, do not phuck the pharaoh or you will get HOUSE ARRESTED and DIE

(jk jk she’ll just be awkward around you forever lol, and then SHE’LL get house arrested and die, because you’re not commoners so your actions actually have consequences you dumb idiots)

this entire thing is just a whole mood and lowkey my teenage years holy fuck holy fuck I hate that I’m only just realizing how bloody hard I was projecting

I literally read a post the other day about how unrequited love is only ever usually explored from the perspective of the person who’s in love, whereas aros are usually on the receiving end of it and it’s a tragedy in its own right that you might do things that wind up driving you apart because you can’t bring yourself to love them back but you can’t tell them because of the fear that it’ll push them away... and I gotta say, I totally nailed it 💪

...you know what I’ve changed my mind, chapter 34 is good actually, and now I need to make a time machine and go and hug my 17 year old self for living this, and then hug my 20 year old self for writing this, I’m sorry I was mean to this chapter it’s very relatable and I shouldn’t keep beating myself up over it

thinking makes me miserable too!! that’s why it’s optimistic nihilism only lads

impulse control, hmmm... someone who’s good for him, hmmmmmm... it’s almost like someone like that is right there and exists and is already in love with him 😏

so apparently timeline twin’s idea of “fixing her life” is burning all her bridges and then hecking off to the Kazakh wilderness for over a year

did Alix just... ask the snake if it’s aroace too???

I mean it definitely is, but...

UGH SNAKES DON’T BLINK, I’M STILL SO ANGRY ABOUT THIS

chapter 35, thank god, the title “Finally!” is very apt

(because I can finally change the music from Death Valley to something else lol)

oh poor Max, his heart goes on a real rollercoaster these few chapters doesn’t it? it’s okay buddy, in like 10 chapters you’ll get your man...

NO BUT SHE H A S FIGURED IT OUT!!! SORT OF!!!

I just misread “despite” as “despacito”, I’m going to bed and continuing this tomorrow dammit

alright I am now funky refreshed and ready to roll, let’s get this kimax party started

Max is angsting internally like “no one’s realized I like Kim :( well except Juleka but she’s a lesbian so she doesn’t count” ashgdjsghskk that mlm/wlw solidarity is holding out I see

YES ALIX YOU DO NEED TO TALK TO NATH MORE, THAT’S YOUR FREAKING BEST BUD IN THE SHOW MAY I REMIND YOU

this is all so Irony it’s murdering me dead

okay yeah I’m gonna be really honest and salty here for a second, this bit where Max is annoyed that Alix takes Nath more seriously as a contender than him was me being a bit salty over the fact that like... kimnath/tomato ketchup is a great rarepair but got so weirdly popular amongst people who didn’t seem to care about Max as a character at all despite how close he is with Kim in canon, and as a Max Stan it made me sad because he’s already not very appreciated in fandom

[future aish note: HE IS NOW BABEY!]

THERE IT IS

I WANT TO HUG MAX TOO, BLESS HIM

I also want to hug Alix because godddds I’ve been in that situation where if you were allowed to just TELL the idiots that they like each other then all their problems would be solved but noooo, you’re sworn to secrecy... *sigh*

“I’ll make sure that doesn’t change, ever...” me: *thinks about the sequel and cackles evilly while cracking my knuckles* well,,

A R O M A N T I C

listen it was VERY IMPORTANT to me that I actually put in all these actual words in the fic and made them relevant, like gay, lesbian, bisexual, etc (I think the only one I didn’t was trans, oops?? gotta remember that for the sequel, at least Nino IS trans in this even though I never said the word)

[future aish note: i feel like i didn’t say pan either, or nonbinary... more stuff for the sequel folks! i can’t put in everything but i may as well try!]

bc you see all these tv shows where a character is bi but they say they “don’t like labels” or a character with no love interest get suddenly paired up with someone random at the end... like NO I wanted to do the OPPOSITE of that bc people’s identities are IMPORTANT so I wanted to MAKE IT RELEVANT 💪

and even though I didn’t yet know here that I was aro and highkey projecting, there’s already a fair few fics dealing with asexuality but not aromanticism?? so I rly wanted to make the aro side of things important

almost relieved??? Max, you buffoon, she IS relieved, extremely

Malix friendship is good and severely underrated and I still haven’t forgiven myself for not putting more of it in this

“He was never eating chocolate again” HO-HO-HOLY SHIT THAT’S SOME FORESHADOWING RIGHT THERE

Rose is a distinguished bi who doesn’t realize Kim is a disaster bi

Kim oh my god you can’t just out Adrien “just about functional bi” Agreste like that

I love that Rose calls Kim a casanova even though he’s very much not... how many people are even into him over the course of the fic? Max, Adrien, it’s implied Marinette used to be, Lila is ambiguous, same with the lacrosse guy later, oh yeah Ondine highkey lmao along with 90% of the teenage population of Saharan Africa, Kim himself in about 2 chapters time...

Rose giving Kim the gay talk is so blessed omg I need more interaction between these two

“If you swung one way you were gay, if you swung the other way you were straight, more than one way made you bisexual, if you didn’t swing any way at all then you were probably just Alix...” I will literally NEVER be able to outdo this line, this is Peak

hmm I don’t think at any point in the fic Max says to Kim that he’s exclusively into boys... I guess he said it offscreen then lol, point is He’s Gay

OMG KIM, YOU FINALLY REALIZED WHAT THE NOSEBLEED SCENE MEANT, GOD BLESS YOU

this is like in Syren when he realizes the mermaid is Ondine and that she was trying to tell him she likes him... except this is the gay version of that

yeah Rose I really do need to get more sleep, that one was directed at me and I know it was

Kim being all like “fellas is it gay if you take off your shirt and a guy swoons at you 🤔🤔🤔”

no, no... Max is definitely a complete trainwreck at romance, just slightly less than you

god freaking dammit not the sports bra again,,, I s2g later in the fic all Ondine would have had to do is to show up in a sports bra and Kim would immediately go full ot3 mode no questions asked,,,,,,,, (I mean he does see her in a swimsuit but that’s not the same??? sports bras are in a different league okay shush)

psssssst!!! you should read heartbroken!!!! it’s a kimax fic and it’s so good!!!!! this was a lowkey shoutout!!!!!!!!

genuinely tho, even if Kim hadn’t liked Max too here, he’s being so sweet about it?? he’s worried about his poor friend’s emotional state and wishes he could have done better to help!! gahhhh their friendship/relationship is just So Blessèd

hsndhkdhdkshdh I only noticed it after finishing the fic and occasionally skimming back through, but so much of the time whenever Alix shows up Kim’s all like *ungrateful* “oh not you again” like WOW that’s one way to greet your friend?? mood tho

[future aish note: i did the exact opposite in No Romo, funnily enough! kim’s not in it much but whenever he sees alix he’s like “friend!!! friend!!!!!” and she’s just like -_- “oh it’s that guy again”]

he’s not even paying attention to her omg she’s trying to save the timeline here you idiot

POOR ALIX how frustrating,,, and also I’ve literally been there,,, the woes of being a wing-girl indeed

and now Kim wants to fight himself, why am I not surprised

aND YES HERE’S WHERE IT HITS HIM, THE EXACT FUCKING MOMENT

WHERE HE’S SUDDENLY LIKE “OH WAIT MAX’S LOVE FOR ME ISN’T UNREQUITED??? I LIKE HIM TOO HOLY SHIT????”

aaaaaaand he immediately asks the aro for love advice, why is he like this omg

gosh this is sooooo sweeeeeet

I did not let up, did I? just went ahead and made this as cheesy and cutesy and over the top as I could because It’s What Kimax Deserves

(there wasn’t rly much Kimax content yet in the fandom at this point so I had total free reign and went all-out with it)

sfjsgskdhs and there goes Alix getting her wing-efforts sidelined again

“I’m never asking out someone on a whim again. Or, uh, confessing that I like someone on a whim either.” so uh... you know how I said I’m considering making the sequel Kimaxdine? well if I do then uh. hm. this might change. because reasons.

I don’t know why I made nothing Alix ever says make sense but I’m glad I did because she’s so freaking funny

I swear I talk about Max’s eyes being “magnified in his glasses” multiple times in this fic, either that or I’m having serious deja vu

Kim’s so cute dammit!!! now that he knows he likes Max he’s just swooning over every little thing and it’s!!!! adorable!!!!!

(I wonder if this is how it was with Kimdine in the show? it does seem like Kim already liked her but just hadn’t noticed...)

huehuehuehue Kim later on you do indeed recklessly propose to Max on the spot... in like 18 chapters or so

also the fact that Kim thinks things through better when he’s around Max is just the total sweetest and also what Alix was basically trying to aim for

I love Kim showing off that he can pack all his stuff in half an hour like buddy, the porters can literally help you with that, you’re royalty remember

omg I’d forgotten I left a note here later for binge-readers!! being all like “drink water and eat food and go to sleep uwu”

lmao guess I’ll take my own advice then and leave it there for now

[future aish note: same, goodnight]

[douxreviews]

The Umbrella Academy - ‘We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals’ Review

Right from the comics, by illustrator Gabriel Bá and My Chemical Romance vocalist Gerard Way, comes the winter hit of Netflix nobody saw coming. Picture a love child between the X-Men and the dysfunctional Bluths, and you’ll have the Hargreeves siblings of The Umbrella Academy.

I must confess that I myself have yet the chance to read the comics this series is inspired by, but from what I understand, the premises don’t differ much at all. On the same day down to the same minute, 43 women across the globe give birth despite not showing any signs of pregnancy up until labor. Irregular and reclusive billionaire Sir Reginald Hargreeves scouts out these women and is able to compensate only seven of them in exchange for adopting their children, all which supposedly have been born with unique abilities. For reasons known only for himself, Hargreeves raises these youths, with assistance from an android-caretaker (appropriately referred to as ‘Mom’ by the children) and an exceptionally intelligent chimp named Pogo, into becoming a team of superheroes called ‘The Umbrella Academy’.

Right away, a premise like this that takes its own shot at subverting the superhero genre had my attention and, after the pilot episode, went on to dominate the rest of my week as I binged through its first season. From the get-go, it became clear that The Umbrella Academy is a show that is much more character-centered than it is plot-centered. This is not to say The Umbrella Academy lacks any signs of a narrative, but the series’ heart and soul is the dissection and exploration of the seven Hargreeves siblings who, in ‘We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals’, are reunited years later after hearing the news that father Hargreeves has passed away.

#1: Luther Hargreeves/Spaceboy. The former leader of the Umbrella Academy, Luther is the teammate with incredible super strength that is practically mandatory at this point for every group of superheroes. Presently, he operates as an astronaut exploring Earth’s moon, but returns to Earth once he learns of father Hargreeves’ passing. Picture Superman if Superman wasn’t very talented at inspiring morale or teamwork in his Justice League compatriots, and you’ll have Luther.

#2: Diego Hargreeves/The Kraken. In many ways the antithesis to Luther, Diego is a reckless hothead on the outside, and a bit of a momma’s boy on the inside. And unlike Luther, who maintained complete trust and faith in father Hargreeves until the end, Diego (as well as #3 and #4) has a fiery hatred for their father due to his cold, unfeeling, and abusive manner towards the children while they were growing up. Diego has the ability of accurate and expert marksmanship, and a dagger is his preferred weapon.

#3: Allison Hargreeves/The Rumor. Currently an aspiring actress, Allison returns home with her siblings while in the midst of a divorce, and if that weren’t bad enough, she has also lost complete custody of her daughter. Though her distaste doesn’t seem as passionate as Diego’s, she too harbors resentment for father Hargreeves. She has the ability to alter reality itself by beginning her wishes with the phrase “I heard a rumor…”

#4: Klaus Hargreeves/The Séance. Eccentric, drug-addicted, and in possession of a wardrobe that reaches every point of the spectrum, Klaus could be seen as the academy’s ‘wild card’ currently. On the surface he appears to demonstrate wit and an infectious energy for life, but internally, he loathes father Hargreeves, and blames him as well for being the catalyst for Klaus turning to his unhealthy habits. Klaus has the ability to talk to the deceased, but can only perform this when he is sober.

#5: Number Five/The Boy. Years before the start of the series, Number Five mysteriously vanished without a trace, and soon after, the Hargreeves siblings would begin to go their separate ways. In the pilot, Number Five returns, still in the form of his thirteen year-old self, with a warning from the future – the world will end in eight days, and Five has no idea what causes it. Though Five does genuinely seem to still care for his siblings, so much time spent lost in the space-time continuum has made him cynical, jaded, arrogant, and with a very relatable dependence on black coffee. Five has the ability to teleport, both through space and time.

#6: Ben Hargreeves/The Horror (Deceased). Killed or passed away by unknown means, Ben’s death seems to have been another factor that drove apart the Hargreeves siblings. Aside from the fact that he has an ability to generate monstrous limbs and tentacles from his body, (which he does not relish) little else is known about Ben. Thanks to Klaus’ ability to talk to the dead though, Ben is still able to keep in touch with at least one of his siblings.

#7: Vanya Hargreeves/The White Violin. A talented violinist, Vanya seems to be the only sibling without any sign of an ability. Her entire childhood under father Hargreeves’ roof has consisted more of her acting as an assistant to train the other, powered children, and being told that there just isn’t anything special about her. Despite this, Vanya doesn’t hesitate to return home and reunite with her siblings once she hears the news about Sir Hargreeves. Since leaving home, Vanya has published a book detailing the secrets of the Umbrella Academy, and outing her siblings’ identities as well, which seems to have created a rift between her and Diego.

This is show that has nicely mastered the practice of raising some mysteries and inquiries, while also still giving the audience just enough answers to chew on for the current episode’s forty-five minute run. From the memorial service onwards, the pilot continues with scenes upon scenes dedicated to simply fleshing out these characters: what they’ve been up to since they parted ways, their relationships with each other, which siblings they bear grudges against, and which ones they’re still loyal to. But because this is the introductory episode, it does have its moments here and there that are committed for pure exposition. For example, a scene featuring Vanya reuniting with Pogo and touring the old mansion where everyone was raised abruptly transitions to the two of them specifically discussing how many days it’s been since Five disappeared, which feels less like natural dialogue, and more like something needed to catch the audience up on Five’s backstory.

As a result of this being a setting where individuals with super-powers do exist, it’s evident from the beginning that this isn’t going to be a world exactly like the planet Earth the spectating audience is used to. What’s so engaging about The Umbrella Academy is that it just doesn’t stop there; there’s a lot of effort here put into the world-building to distinguish this series’ timeline as something that bears some similarities to our own timeline, but is clearly another world altogether. By the time we are introduced to Grace, the children’s android caretaker, and Pogo, I actually realized I didn’t even need elaborations from this show on their own backstories; I had just become so accustomed that this was a world with its own unique scientific advances and phenomena. Once you’ve laid down the law that time travel can and does exist, pretty much anything else goes.

Time flew by during my first viewing of this episode and once Five dropped the bombshell that the world is heading towards an imminent apocalypse and the credits rolled, I was hooked. The Umbrella Academy has a great start for those that enjoy nuanced characters as much, if not more, as they do good story-telling. Because only one episode is a little early for someone to be playing favorites, I suppose I won’t mention then how charmed I immediately became with the characters of Klaus and Five. Then again, from the looks of the internet around me, I seem to not be alone with that favoring.

Name That Tune:

Another wonderful takeaway from this series is its soundtrack, which sifts through multiple genres each episode, and while it often falls back on the trope of playing an upbeat tune to an otherwise extreme fight sequence, it has given me plenty of new additions to my iTunes library, starting with ‘Istanbul’ by They Might Be Giants. Never a song I would’ve thought I’d hear play during a gunfight conflict in a coffee-and-donut shop, yet here we are.

Hargreeves Humor:

Luther: “Look, I know you don't like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad.” Klaus: “I can't just call Dad in the afterlife and be like, 'Dad, could you just stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?'"

Five: “An entire square block. Forty-two bedrooms, 19 bathrooms, but no, not a single drop of coffee.” Allison: “Dad hated caffeine.” Klaus: “Well, he hated children, too, and he had plenty of us.”

Five: “Guess I missed the funeral.” Luther: “How'd you know about that?” Five: “What part of the future do you not understand?”

Aaron Studer loves spending his time reading, writing and defending the existence of cryptids because they can’t do it themselves.

[aggressivelyfestive]

What Makes the Sky Blue - Chapter 8: The One

Whoops, sorry about the delay. I got caught up in both GW and then the new story event.

Summary: 

During the fall a mysterious presence manifests and calls (Captain) a singularity, wishing to know the extent of (Captain)’s power and determination.

(Captain) awakens on Lumacie to the sight of overjoyed friends. Sandalphon, on the other hand, is beset by rage at the utter failure of his plan- that’s when the supreme primarch, Lucifer, appears.

Lucifer foresaw what would come to pass and worked behind the scenes to foil Sandalphon’s plot. He absorbs Sandalphon into his own core, thanks (Captain) and company for their efforts, then disappears with the other primarchs.

With peace restored to the world and reconstruction under way, (Captain), Vyrn, and Lyria continue their glorious adventure across the skies.

Episode 1: During the fall a mysterious presence manifests and calls (Captain) a singularity, wishing to know the extent of (Captain)’s power and determination.

The clear blue sky stretches out as far as the eye can see. How much time has passed? Has it been hours or mere seconds? Up is down and right is left. All sense of time is gone. Lingering in (Captain)’s head are visions of Vyrn, Lyria, and everyone else in the crew.

[Flashbacks start]

Vyrn: Say, are you serious about leavin’ the village?

-

Lyria: You should have seen it, Katalina! This hero saved me! It was so… heroic!

-

Katalina: Thank goodness she hasn’t been injured. Have you two been protecting her?

-

Rackam: If you plan on calling yourself a crew, you’d need at least one helmsman on board before anything got started.

-

Io: Nice to meet you… I guess I owe you one. Thanks.

-

Eugen: Hey! Nice work. You caught the ragtag bunch, eh?

-

Rosetta: Oh, I’ve gone and frightened you… little old me! You see I’m but a poor, defenseless woman.

[Flashbacks end]

Countless precious memories flood through (Captain)’s mind as consciousness gradually fades away. A mysterious roar sounds, and a voice speaks to (Captain).

Great One: Child of the Sky… I am the dawn and dusk of creation. I have come to you as you near the brink of death. The time has come to test your strength and resolve as a singularity.

The gravitas and divinity felt from each breath compels obedience.

Great One: As a singularity you are one of the seeds holding sway over the fate of the world. The contrasting fates of the crimson dragon and the girl in blue by your side will bring about much hardship. Much like the cataclysms the world has just overcome. Knowing that, you still reach for the ends of the skies?

> Absolutely.

Great One: …

> I don’t believe in fate.

Great One: To believe or to deny is your choice; regret will come either way.

Great One: The intertwining fates of the two will ultimately bring about the ruin of all worlds. Whom will you choose when that time comes? Your crimson friend or the one who shares your soul?

> I’ll save both of them.

Great One: What a bold thing to say.

> That time will never come.

Great One: What a strange thing to say.

Great One: And now for my final question. What is it that drives your conviction? How do you so fearlessly embark on this journey toward destruction?

> My friends make all the difference.

Great One: I suppose that is what gives you strength as a singularity.

> I’m not alone.

Great One: I suppose that is what gives you strength as a singularity.

Great One: Such childish resolve… Such frail strength… And yet I cannot deny the possibility that lies within…

Lyria (echoing): Open your eyes!

Vyrn (echoing): Wake up!

Lyria (echoing): Please, (Captain)! We need you!

Vyrn (echoing): Don’t give up yet, (Captain)!

Episode 2: (Captain) awakens on Lumacie to the sight of overjoyed friends. Sandalphon, on the other hand, is beset by rage at the utter failure of his plan- that’s when the supreme primarch, Lucifer, appears.

Lyria: Ah! (Captain)’s awake!

Vyrn: Phew! You almost gave me a heart attack back there, (Captain)!

(Captain) wakes up at the cape- as if the fall had never happened. Surrounded by relieved and overjoyed friends, (Captain) breathes a sigh of relief.

Lyria: Sniff… Sniff… I- I don’t know what to…

> I’m back.

Lyria: Yes! Welcome back, (Captain)!

Vyrn: Hehe. Good to see you up and about, sleepyhead!

> Crybaby Lyria.

Lyria: O-of course I’m crying! How could I not be? Hey, what’s so funny?

Vyrn: Ahaha! Crying one second, fuming the next- you’re having a busy day!

Katalina: (Captain)... I knew you still had it in you.

Rackam: Hahaha! You definitely had us on edge there. So… what happened at the bottom of the skies?

Io: How strange. I thought I saw Vyrn and Lyria summon something. Then the next moment (Captain)’s sleeping like a baby on the cape.

Eugen: Hah hah hah! Nothin’ wrong with that, is there? (Captain)’s alive, and that’s what matters.

Rosetta: Hehe, looks like even this 2000-year old archangel is confused.

Sandalphon: How could this be! The terrifying roar shook the world! Why hasn’t Pandemonium been opened? Is there some other condition I don’t know about? Or has the situation changed since I was last in there? Why, why, why!

Michael: Silence yourself. You’re obviously out of options.

Uriel: Want me to shut him up for you? I’ll have to hold back this time though so I don’t accidentally kill him.

Gabriel: Leave him. He does bring up some good points though… Did we simply luck out, or is there more to it all?

Raphael: There is only one possibility…

Brilliant rays of light suddenly surge from the bottom of the skies and pierce through the island, extending far into the welkin. An archangel gently ascends from the rays of light, softly flapping his wings on the way up.

Michael: The supreme primarch!

Lucifer: Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael… You’ve done well, I appreciate all your hard work.

[The four primarchs straighten proudly.]

Lyria: Oh my! I’ve never seen them like that!

Vyrn: So that’s the supreme primarch… His aura’s just incredible!

Sandalphon: Lucifer!

Lucifer: Sandalphon.

Episode 3: Lucifer foresaw what would come to pass and worked behind the scenes to foil Sandalphon’s plot. He absorbs Sandalphon into his own core, thanks (Captain) and company for their efforts, then disappears with the other primarchs.

The eyes of Lucifer and Sandalphon lock in an intense gaze.

Sandalphon: So you’ve already manifested. I suppose that’s also why Pandemonium won’t open up.

Lucifer: Yes, I held in the core of the seal on Pandemonium.

Sandalphon: Hah hah hah… So you saw this coming… You ignored my rampage and kept watch on Pandemonium this whole time… Mwahaha! Am I so worthless to you that I’m not even worth confronting?

Lucifer: That’s not it. Archangels are forbidden from interacting with the world. I simply fulfilled my duty.

Sandalphon: That’s exactly the problem with you! You always filter out the things you don’t care about! How could you possibly understand the suffering of those deemed worthless! Those of us who get filtered out have no choice but to take things by force!

Lucifer: …

Sandalphon: It could’ve been anyone. Anyone at all. I just wanted one person in the world to tell me that I matter- that I’m needed! Do you even know what that’s like? Someone like you born out of necessity and looked up to by all the archangels could never fathom that pain! I don’t care if the whole world hates me! I…

Lyria: (Captain)... Sandalphon…

Lyria tightly grasps (Captain)’s clothing with trembling fingers.

Lucifer: Sandalphon… So I see the discovery of your purpose is what caused you to close off your heart.

Sandalphon: Humph… Call me childish if you wish.

Lucifer: You brought me peace of mind every time I came by the lab. Your lack of a role allowed me to look upon you as my equal. Your purehearted words would always instill me with such tranquility.

Sandalphon: …!

Lucifer: Forgive me for not noticing your feelings of inferiority earlier.

Sandalphon: Stop it! Don’t think I believe this farce for even a second! But it’s too late to make amends now! Hate me! Destroy me! Punish me! If you forgive me, my last 2000 years will have been for naught…

Lucifer: I am no less guilty, and so I deserve equal punishment. Take solace in my core, Sandalphon.

Sandalphon: Lucifer-

Sandalphon turns into an infinite number of tiny particles of light before being absorbed into Lucifer’s wings.

Michael: Is it over now?

Lucifer: Yes. (Captain), I thank you for stopping my fellow archangel before it was too late.

Lyria: Um… So what happened to Sandalphon in the end?

Lucifer: He has returned to my core. Think of it… as a baby returning to its cradle.

Lyria: Huh?

Lucifer: We shall meet again. Until then continue forth on the path you believe is true.

Michael: I applaud your efforts in stopping this whole mess. I’d love to spar with you next time we meet.

Gabriel: Teehee… Silly Michael. Bye, everyone. Hope to see you again!

Uriel: You guys rocked hard back there! We’d have such an awesome battle if it ever came to that!

Raphael: Safe travels and fortuitous winds to you.

The primarchs vanish one after another… Leaving an awestruck crew on the cape.

-

Episode 4: With peace restored to the world and reconstruction under way, (Captain), Vyrn, and Lyria continue their glorious adventure across the skies.

[At the Hall of Knowledge]

Arusha: What a relief. It’s a miracle that only a few volumes were damaged in that attack!

Johann: Yeah. Thanks to my barrier, you know…

Arusha: What’s that, Johann? Did you forget that you have to make up for breaking the lock on the secret archives? First I want you to pick up all the books on the floor and put them back on the shelves. In the right place!

Johann: Sigh… How many days is that going to take? Hm? Whoa, this text is amazing! You’re the best, Hall of Knowledge!

-

[At the Casino Liner]

Tycoon: Impossible! I lost my fortune in just a single night!

Richard: You have no one to blame but yourself. Putting stock in baseless rumors is one thing, but putting a bounty on a brave young lady?

Tycoon: Wait! You’re not going to get away with this!

Richard: Oh? Trying to take back your losses by force? That’s not-

Therese: That’s not smart! Hah hah! Come at me! I’ve got tons of arena experience. We’ll settle this with a duel!

Tycoon: You’re the undefeated champion, Therese!

Richard: Uh, Therese? Please don’t steal my thunder like that…

-

[At Fremel Island]

Stan: Graaah!

Juri: Yaaah!

[Their swords clash before the two push away.]

Stan: Huff… Huff… Man, you’ve got spirit!

Juri: Bleh… Huff.. Same to you, Mr. Stan. When did you get so good with the sword?

Stan: Just call me Stan. I’m self-taught, Juri- Oops, can I call you Juri?

Juri: Of course! So you’re self-taught. I suppose I should adopt more of my own style too!

Stan: How about another match? Dorya-

Aliza (coming out of nowhere): Doryaaa!

Stan: Augh!

Juri: Stan?

Aliza: What are you doing? You’re supposed to be helping with the reconstruction! Come one, let’s go! The mines are waiting, dummy duo!

Stan: Y-yes, Aliza…

Juri: Sorry, ma’am…

-

[At the Knickknack Shack]

Sierokarte: Welcome! We’re currently running a limited-time sale on all weapons and armor made from halo crystals!

Farrah: C-come on in! We’ve got some hot items for you! Say, Siero. Why are you selling this creepy stuff? It looks like it’s about to come alive at any minute.

Sierokarte: Don’t you worry your pretty little head. This is just a trader’s way of helping with the restoration, Farrakarte. We’re recycling, bringing in tourists, and donating some sales proceeds to the town! That’s three birds for one stone!

Farrah: Oh, I get it! Business is a really deep topic. I’ve got to keep studying! No, wait… Siero, I hope you know I have no intention of becoming a trader!

-

Every island is busy with repair efforts now that buoyancy has stabilized. The Grandcypher has also undergone maintenance and is currently performing test runs before taking to the skies.

Rackam: Hahaha! Excellent, excellent! The engine’s humming beautifully!

Katalina: Hehehe. That’s a relief, considering what we made the Grandcypher go through.

Eugen: Hah hah hah! That’s the first time we’ve had to push the Grandcypher so hard! I sure as heck wouldn’t wanna repeat it!

Io: Hm? But weren’t you romping about with excitement? You and Rackam both.

Rosetta: Oooh, this looks fun. We might not be able to go as fast as the archangels, but let’s try to feel the rush of the wind.

-

(Captain), Vyrn, and Lyria sit on the bow staring off into the vast azure blue.

Lyria: Hey, why is the sky blue?

Vyrn: Huh? That’s a weird thing to ask all of a sudden.

Lyria: Ahaha.. Well… I never really gave much thought to things that are obvious until now. Looking at it again makes me realize how beautiful it is. The size of it all is a little scary actually. That’s just me anyway.

Vyrn: Haha, what are you talkin’ about? It’s like you’re a rookie skyfarer. But after all those awful cataclysms, I get why you’d feel as if things had returned to the beginning.

Lyria: The beginning… Yes, it does kind of feel like when we first started our journey. Once the islands have been restored, everyone’s sure to come back to the crew!

Vyrn: Yep! Then we can get back to the real adventure!

Lyria: Teehee. Let’s do our best! Right, (Captain)?

The rumblings felt around the world have passed, and the crew once again sets out for the ends of the skies. Whatever hardships may arise, or whatever mysteries seem unsolvable, they believe in each other to overcome any obstacles.

End Chapter 8: The One | Start Wyvern’s Reverie

[hekate1308]

God Bless This Mess, A Season 13 Drowley AU

Read it on AO3

Summary: Cas is back, and everything feels wrong. Dean desperately tries to understand what’s happening, but it's to no avail. It takes a surprising visit from an archangel and a resurrected King of Hell for him to make sense of this mess he's been left with. Drowley, Season 13 AU, standalone one-shot.

Length: 15301 words

Enjoy!

Cas is back, and everything’s still wrong.

Dean can’t explain it.

He was a wreck during the last few weeks. Drinking, snapping at Sam and Jack, hardly paying attention to cases.

For the record, he still feels that they should be more wary of the guy who has powers he can’t control and acts a little too innocently for his liking.

But Sam? Oh no, Sam saw himself in Jack, and immediately jumped unto the parent role. Dean refused to, Dean still refuses.

There’s just something off about the kid and the way Sam seems to trust him implicitly. Oh, he’s perfectly nice, but Dean’s goddamn wary of all-powerful creatures and he has every right to be. Only Sam makes him doubt that, and that’s more than he can live with, these days.

But then...

There’s just something so freaking creepy about it. He can’t help it. Sam is acting like everything’s right in the world, like they haven’t lost Cas –

No, no, that’s not right.

Cas and has been recast in Sam’s narrative all of a sudden, he’s Jack’s father now, chose the role and somehow he died so he could live, and in Dean’s opinion, that’s so utterly screwed up he doesn’t even want to think about it, because he remembers, he remembers Cas stealing the Colt and being determined to kill the mother of Satan’s child until his eyes glowed and he became a stranger, but it’s all nice and good and how things are supposed to be when you listen to Sam, and that’s not the way his brother works.  He knows Sam, he raised Sam, and this is so unlike Sam he would consider possession or a shapeshifter, only he’s hurting too much or too tired to check these days.

Same thing that’s been happening with Cas is happening to Kelly too. Because Dean doesn’t remember a loving mother, and until he heard Sam’s and Jack’s version, he wouldn’t even have considered that wrong in any way, on the contrary, because this was a woman, a young woman who didn’t deserve any of this, and she didn’t want any of this until her eyes glowed too, and then she acted all crazy, so why is she suddenly supposed to be the element of good in Jack? She was a victim, she’ll always be a victim, because Lucifer is evil, was evil, whatever, and Dean is left behind, trying to understand what Sam is doing –

No, what both of them are doing.

Because Cas came back a week ago and immediately threw himself into parenting Jack, apparently being happy after being promised Paradise despite rebelling against it when they first met.

It doesn’t make any sense.

At first he was so freaking happy he couldn’t breathe. His best friend was back, he would make sense of everything, Dean would be able to think clearly again, and –

Cas came back, and he only took the time to hug Dean and Sam once before he started fussing over Lucifer’s son too.

Nothing more, no explanation except that he escaped the Empty, no, it was all about Jack, when Dean still thinks, perhaps undeservedly, that he deserves a little bit of attention too, because his mind seems to be all in a jumble these days –

Everything’s just wrong.

Even now, as he watches Sam and Cas explain to Jack how to cook. They tried to get him involved, but everything feels wrong, and he can’t pretend that it doesn’t.

It’s just... Sam seems so sure that they’ll get Mom back, when they have no evidence that she’s alive, and worse...

No matter how often he talks about the rift, he never once mentions Crowley.

Neither he nor Cas do, Sam even explained to Jack that Sam, Dean and Cas closed the rift while Dean was sitting there, a scream stuck in his throat because that’s not what happened.

The demon offed himself for them, and no one mentions him.

Dean doesn’t either, because obviously they don’t want to talk about him, so he pretends that grief still isn’t eating up some part of himself,  a part who got way too used to having him on speed dial.

He goes to his room to drink Craig and be miserable. He’s been feeling worse and worse physically as well, and neither Sam nor Cas have paid attention to that. Oh God, he’s starting to sound so whiny too.

The next morning, he decides it’s time for a case. Just him and Baby and something evil to kill –

Well, something that he’s allowed to consider evil and kill.

The others barely bat an eyelash. Sam and Cas are apparently more than happy to have him leave and fight against evil, it seems to barely even register with them that there’s still stuff pout there to fight, and Jack –

Jack smiles at him and makes him a sandwich and waves as he drives off, apparently completely oblivious to the fact that the grins on his protectors’ faces are too bright, and their eyes too empty.

Everything’s so wrong.

Dean drives to the small town in Kentucky all by himself. He doesn’t turn on the radio. He doesn’t feel like listening to music. He doesn’t feel like doing anything. Even hunting is more an automatic response than anything else, because he knows how to hunt, it’s familiar and should eb comforting, but it’s not because his world has just titled on its axe several times and he doesn’t know how to find the equilibrium, nut at least he knows how to do this –

Even before he can hunt down the ghoul that’s snacking on corpses around here though, he grows ill and feverish, but he can’t call because no one will pick up because they are too busy with –

Everything’s jumbled up in his brain, he’s not sure if that’s a new thing or if that happened before he left for the hunt, but he can’t leave like this, he’s of no use like this, and really, if he can’t kill one single ghoul, what is he even good for? He has to get out there, he has to work, he has to do what he was raised to –

He tries to pray, tries to call Cas after all, because surely he has to care, because anyone has to care –

“Deano, what the Hell is going on? I can feel your longing from here, and now that Cas is back from the Empty – “

“Gabriel?” he asks, rather confused, because surely the archangel’s supposed to be dead? Trouble is, he can’t really tell because he’s too confused –

“Oh dear, no, thank you, I’m really not good with mental breakdowns, they always get me down. Let me just see right into your noggin who could possibly –“

A conscience intrudes into Dean’s own, but he can’t, he can’t understand, he can barely even pay attention when it’s almost too hard to breathe –

“Sam is out because of obvious reasons, Cas too I’m afraid, but certainly – oh God, not exactly to nurturing there Mommy, let me see – Really? Him? Wouldn’t have – alright, alright, won’t question it, this definitely needs to be dealt with.”

The conscience – Gabirel’s? Retrates but that doesn’t make it easier to think –

A snap of fingers. “Hello. You’re back, you’re human and Dean’s having a bit of a psychotic episode, look after him, Gabriel out, oh, and you’re welcome, by the way.”

The last thing Dean hears before his mind devolves into utter chaos is a breathless “Squirrel?”

When he comes to, he doesn’t remember where he is. He doesn’t remember much at all, and that’s maybe for the best. He thinks there’s a presence near him, someone calling out his name, touching his forehead, but he’s too tired to bother. He falls back asleep.

The next time he wakes up, his head feels clearer than it has been in weeks. Which unfortunately brings their current dilemma right to the fore front of his mind.

He groans.

Immediately, there’s movement in the room.

“Dean?”

He’d rather keep his eyes closed a little while longer, but this voice –

“Come on Squirrel, time to bat your eyelashes at your saviour.”

He knows this voice.

He forces his eyes open. “Crowley?”

The former King of Hell, looking somewhat more tired than Dean can ever remember him being, actually smiles at him. There’s something different about him, that’s for sure.

“Take it easy. You had what we would have called “brain fever” when I was human the last time around.”

“The last time – “

And then her remembers the last moments before he sank completely into his fever dreams.

“You’re human?”

Crowley nods.

“Dear God, it’s actually good to see you” he breathes.

Crowley blinks. “Clearly the fever has rattled your brain even more than it already was.”

Dean laughs for the first time in what feels like an eternity. Then her realizes how thirsty he is. Before he can say anything, Crowley has given him a bottle of water. Thankfully he can hold it. He feels pretty weak.

“Now” Crowley begins, “what’s up with Cassie and Moose? I had everything set up to use your voice mails to trick them into thinking they were talking to you, but instead texts were enough for a whole week? That’s not like them.”

Dean smiled weakly as he remembers and everything just hits him like a freight train.

“Jack.”

“The devil’s spawn? He was born?”

Dean can only nod.

“That’s not what I died for, you know” Crowley declares dramatically, and Dean snorts.

“Believe me, I know. Thing is – “ he takes another huge gulp of water. “This – Jack, he’s acting like an innocent kid. And Sam and Cas – they eat it up. Or rather... I can’t explain it, I just know when I’m looking at them that something is wrong.”

Crowley surprised him by saying, “You can usually tell when it comes to your family.”

Dean nods. “And that’s why... Jack, he just gives me the creeps, same thing with Sam and Cas trying to parent him like he’s an actual kid. And they barely...” he trails off because it feels stupid to complain that he didn’t get any attention in the last few weeks. He’s the adult in this situation.

Crowley nods, as if he knows what he wanted to say. “And you ran yourself ragged trying to cope with it all.”

Dean shrugs. “I was hunting.”

“A wise decision, the state you were in.”

Dean decides to ignore his sarcasm (he just woke up from brain fever, for crying out loud) and looks around the room. That’s sure as hell not the motel he passed out in.

“Crowley, where are we?”

“You were basically squatting in that motel, and you know it. That was no place to recuperate. I found us a nice cosy B&B run by a very sweet little old lady called Hedwig.”

“You’re kidding.”

Silence.

“You’re not kidding.”

“Someone had to look after you when I went to get us some money.”

“How – “

“Do you really think you’re the only one who can hustle? I was a demon. King of the crossroads, remember?”

Dean nods. He really wishes he could get up, but he still feels rather weak.

He could point out that Crowley could have dropped him off at a hospital and left, no one the wiser that he’s back among the living.

“What about you? The demons – “

Crowley pulls down his collar to show an anti-possession tattoo. “Again. King of the crossroads. You’re not exactly talking to a greenhorn here.”

Before Dean can reply, there’s a knock at the door and an old lady shuffles in almost immediately afterwards.

“Hello Crowley, how’s our – oh my, you’re awake! We’ve been very worried about you dear, your sweetheart there barely left your side.”

It’s a weird thing to see Crowley blush, but of course he doesn’t have the same control over his feelings he had back when he was a demon. “We’re bro-“

“Oh, I know what you told me. And I am very aware we’re in the Bible belt. But I do recognize love birds when I see them. You really don’t have to pretend for me.”

She moves up to Dean’s bed and starts fussing over his pillow and blanket in a motherly gesture Dean either has never experienced before or can’t remember. “I’m sure you’ll soon be able to get up, now.”

He swallows. “Thank you – Hedwig, was it?”

She nods, smiling at him. “Yes, dear. I better leave you two alone – you certainly have a lot to talk about. I’ll bring you some dinner later.”

And with that, she shuffles out the way she came.

Dean blinks. “She’s... a bit much to take in.” He decides to ignore that she thinks they’re a couple for the moment. It’s better for both of them.

“You get used to it.”

“Did you really tell her we are brothers?”

Crowley looks away. “I was under a bit of stress. It was the first thing that came to mind.”

Not father or uncle? Alright, then.

Suddenly, Dean remembers. “My car – “

“Don’t worry, your precious Baby is safely parked outside. I do know how to drive, you know.”

Dean remembers a time when he would have thrown a fit at the thought of Crowley anywhere near Baby.

Now, he’s just glad he took care of her while he wasn’t able to.

“Thank you. For – for everything, really.”

Crowley stares at him for a second, clearly taken aback, clears his throat. “Whatever. I just realized I could do better than any of these doctors – we did have a few remedies back then, and they worked quite well enough, you know.”

He steps up to Dean and presses his palm against his forehead in a well-practiced motion. Dean’s surprised until he realizes Crowley must have gotten thoroughly used to taking his temperature this past week.

“Still no fever” he says with satisfaction. But because they’re closer now, Dean can clearly see the shadows under his eyes.

Man, those dark circles have dark circles, and he should know. He’s well used to that look from his own mirror.

“Crowley, how long have you been up?”

Of course he doesn’t give him a straight answer. “I had to look after a certain someone who decided to fall ill, procure money... you know some things just fall under the rug when  one’s busy.”

“Do you even have a place to sleep?” Dean asks. The queen he’s lying in is the only bed in the room.

“Of course, I have a small room next door, although – “ Crowley abruptly stops talking, and Dean recognizes that expression too. The Oh-no-my-exhaustion-made-me-reveal-something-I-didn’t-mean-to-look.

“What is it?”

“Hedwig refuses to let me pay for it, since I “barely use it”” he admits, looking anywhere but Dean’s face.

He sighs. He could think about this, but he’s tired, he just recovered from an illness, Crowley is unexpectedly back from the dead and human, and it’s all a bit too much to take in. “Get in.”

Crowley raises his head. “What do you mean?”

“You’re clearly not ready to leave me alone, and you look like you’re going to drop any second now. This bed is quite large enough. Get in.”

Crowley looks sceptical, but also... longing for rest? Dean’s way too exhausted for this kind of thing.

Thankfully, the ex-demon just nods and gets in.

He’s out as soon as his head hits the pillow. Man it must have been a stressful week.

Dean, although he’ll deny this to himself later when his head’s completely clear again, watches him for a few minutes until he himself drifts off, amazed at how human Crowley looks when he’s dead to the world.

Neither of them ever learns that a few minutes later Hedwig checks up on them. She was actually going to ask them what they want for dinner, but immediately decides to let them sleep. Poor dears. Crowley was frantic about Dean all week.

Dean moves closer to his companion in his sleep and she smiles to herself as she walks back to the kitchen.

This time when he wakes up, he can tell that it’s morning from the sunlight filtering through the window. Not early morning, but still.

Crowley’s up, eating breakfast at the small table near the door. There are a few moments where Dean just takes in the sight of him. Yesterday he was still pretty out of it, but today he can readily admit that he’s rarely seen anything weirder than Crowley actually wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Armani is probably a bit too expensive for him, now.

“Good morning” Crowley says suddenly, “Feeling better?”

“Yes. You sleep well?”

“Yes.”

After a few beats of silence Dean says, “I see Hedwig delivered.”

“She was just about to – “

While he speaks, Hedwig comes in with a tablet in her hands. “There. You shouldn’t be eating anything too taxing for your stomach yet, so I’m afraid it’s just oat meal.”

“It’s fine” he assures her, “Right now, I’d eat anything.” He didn’t realize how hungry he was before.

She chuckles. “You’re probably right. Crowley, you look much better. I’m relieved.”

He mumbles something inaudible as an answer.

“Well, call me if you need anything, Dean.”

Don’t worry, I will” he promises her, and then she’s gone.

“Seriously, how did you find her?”

“Knowledge of the human nature and luck” Crowley shrugs.

He really does look much better than yesterday, Dean notices with satisfaction as he carefully eats his breakfast.

And then he realizes something else.

He’s actually so goddamn glad that Crowley is back he’s almost glad he’s still restricted to the bed because he might actually end up hugging him.

He chuckles into his oat meal.

“You alright, Squirrel?”

Of course Crowley’s still honed in on whatever sound he makes. Guy watched over him for a week.

“Yes, thank you. I just – I meant it, yesterday, you know? I’m glad you’re back.”

Again he doesn’t get an answer. At least not a real one.

Instead, Crowley says, “I assume you want my help with Satan Junior?”

“I would appreciate it but...” he trails off.

“I get it. Former King of Hell.”

“No” he denies so vehemently it even takes Dean himself by surprise. “It’s more... Jack’s influence.”

“Yes, you managed something like that...”

Crowley, who’s finished his breakfast, brings the chair over so he can sit next to the bed. “Tell me more.”

And Dean does. About both Sam and Cas being so freaking passionate about their new nurturing project, how their devotion seems less normal and more cult-like, on how sometimes when Jack smirks, he can see Lucifer underneath.

“There’s also this whole thing with Kelly.”

“Kelly?” Crowley frowns. “She wanted – “

“It’s – alright, let me try to explain. You know how she was basically Rosemary?”

Crowley nods. “And then the foetus influenced her, showed her something so she wanted to have him born with his powers.”

“Yes. And now – when they talk about her – she’s being hailed as this epitome of goodness. I’m not saying she wasn’t a nice person, or that she deserved what was coming to her, because she didn’t. But it’s...”

“Creepy.”

“As Hell. And Jack watching that USB she prepared for him – she wasn’t even herself at that point. I saw it. One minute, she understood what we wanted to do, extract his Grace and his powers, and then suddenly, she was all taken over how that would ruin everything that made him “special” as if her life was completely deposable. And then of course he did the same to Cas.”

Crowley nods. “So there is some element of mind control?”

“Either that, or they all have both gone crazy, or this... isn’t Cas after all.”

“You don’t know that” he replies lightly. “You don’t know if this is me either, for example, not for sure – “

“Of course I do. You yourself said I always do.”

“Yeah – well –“ Crowley looks almost upset now. “Whatever. You were barely conscious.”

Dean hums.

He doesn’t really have an idea who he’s talking to, and not because he thinks this is some alternate reality Crowley Gabriel made up. No, it’s because with the old demon, he knew exactly what to expect. But now that he’s human all bets are off.

For example, he still thinks the King of Hell would have brought him to a hospital and left him there, although that in itself tells him a lot because – well, even as a demon, he would have made sure Dean was looked after.

“What happened?” he asks suddenly, the thought occurring to him for the first time. “You know... after you...”

“Died for you chuckleheads?”

Crowley looks away, his expression puzzled. “I’m not sure. I think I... slept.”

“You slept? That is all?”

He must have gone to the Empty then, like Cas.

Only he wasn’t – he didn’t wake up because –

Dean remembers how much Crowley lost in the last year and how none of theme ever wondered how he felt about it and something heavy settles in his stomach.

Crowley was content with it being over. He didn’t want to go back.

“Yes. That’s all. If I could remember, I bet it would have been more boring than this.”

Dean chuckles. “Than playing nurse? Probably.”

Crowley actually grants him a genuine smile, that makes him look far more benign than he has any right to be.

Dean swallows and wonders why he suddenly feels lighter.

“Thing is, I don’t know if I want you anywhere near Jack” he admits. “Somehow I seem to be immune, but you’re human now, and...”

“Believe me, I get it. I’m not that into getting mind-whammied either. But there are other things I can do. Research.”

Dean nods.

“Og course you’ll need a few more days to get back on your feet” Crowley smoothly continues, “and who would I be to leave you alone? Gabriel might return, and then I’d have a problem since he put me here to look after you in your time of need...”

“There is something like too much sarcasm” Dean points out.

“Not for the likes of me, Squirrel.”

And for the time being, Dean’s fine with that.

He spends another week recuperating. Crowley off-handedly mentions one evening that he took “care you your little ghoul problem” and Dean is surprised how easily he believes him.

Two days after he’s woken up, he’s finally allowed out of bed, and Crowley takes him on a sarcastic tour of the town.

“And there’s the bar with the best beer in town – “

“Let me guess, it’s the only one?”

“Of course. Gabriel couldn’t bring me back in Vegas or los Angeles – “

“Next time I’ll try to break down somewhere more convenient, your Highness.”

From the corner of his eye, he can see Crowley grimace. He’s noticed that; whenever he makes a quip about Hell, Crowley looks supremely uncomfortable.

Not that Dean’s surprised. He remembers his own problems, coming back from hell; how must it be for someone who was a demon for hundreds of years to suddenly awake to all the guilt and shame that come with it?

He determines not to mention it anymore, but then, another two days later, Crowley does.

“Do you have any idea who’s taken over hell?”

“Another Prince... Calls himself Asmodeus.”

Crowley shakes his head. “They are never going to learn. Hell can’t be run by one of those stupid self-serving bastards.”

“Well their own fault for not realizing what they had” Dean says firmly.

When Crowley looks away, he asks, “How are you? And for real this time. No sarcasm, please.”

“Have you met me?”

Silence falls. Dean has already despaired of getting an answer when Crowley says, “I think I’m doing as well as can be expected. When I was a demon, the things I’d done – I either remembered them fondly, or I didn’t think about them at all. Everything’s more complicated when one’s human.”

Isn’t that the truth.

“Should have seen me when they turned me back. Couldn’t admit it at the time, but I was more or less disappointed. Things are just... so much further away when you’re a demon. And less complicated.”

“You can say that again” Crowley replies.

“But still – you may be human, but you’re alive. That’s a definite plus, if you ask me.”

Crowley looks somewhat sceptical.

“Don’t give me that look. Cas assured us he’d seen no one else but himself in the Empty, so I assumed that was it. Do you really think I wouldn’t have done anything if I had known it was possible to get you back?”

During the next few seconds, a few things become startingly clear. One, Crowley can’t keep his poker face as well as when he was a demon, two, he never even considered the possibility, and three, he is at an utter loss of what to say for the first time since Dean met him.

He looks away so the former demon can compose himself.

Finally Crowley says, “I assume you’ll be heading back to the bunker soon?”

Dean nods. “I can’t let them alone for too long; even if Jack doesn’t know what he’s doing – and I think that’s actually the case, no one could pretend to be that clueless for so long – I have to see what they get up to. Got a phone yet?”

“What for?”

“I can hardly summon you now” Dean reminds him.

“I’m human” Crowley says, as if that answer makes any sense whatsoever.

“I’ve noticed.”

“It means I have no powers anymore” Crowley says slowly, as he used to when he explained something complicated to them, as if they were too dumb to get it.

“Noted.”

After a pause, Crowley says, “You want to stay in contact with me.”

“Yes. You’re pretty damn clever, and you know a lot about lore.”

“I see.”

“Plus, you know most of my friends tend to end up dead. Might as well cling to the ones I have.”

Crowley doesn’t reply, and they finish their beers in silence.

Two days later, Dean considers it best to return to the bunker. God knows what Sam and Cas have been up to with the devil’s kid, and it seems that he’s the only sane one around to check. Crowley at least thinks he hasn’t lost his marbles completely, and he clings to that because it’s the only thing he can cling to.

When they say goodbye to Hedwig, she surprises both of them with hugs, and it’s not until he sees Crowley’s face that Dean realizes it’s the first time since Gwen that someone has dared to touch him like that.

“You two take care of one another now, you hear?” Hedwig says. “I mean, I know you will, just stay healthy this time around, alright?”

“I’ll do my best” Dean promises.

She nods. “And don’t stay strangers.”

“Never” he says, although he knows the safest place is probably far away from him, especially for little old ladies who’ve never done anything wrong in their life.

“At least drop by when you’re in the neighbourhood. I’ll always be glad to see you two.”

And then Dean and Crowley are standing in front of the Impala, and he has no idea what to say to the guy who might have saved his life by staying at his side even though he really had every reason to run.

“Well, Crowley... See you around then.”

“I guess” he replies lightly, and Dean suddenly becomes aware he’s about to watch him walk away with nothing but the clothes on his back.

“Do you have enough money? I think I have a few credit cards – “

“Relax, Squirrel, I always have a plan.”

Except for when he comes rushing to help them. But Dean doesn’t mention it.

“Look, Crowley” he says, reaching out, having no idea what to do and finally settling on squeezing in shoulder. “I meant what I said. Stay in contact, alright? I’ll let you know whenever something new happens. We’ll figure this out.”

“You and Team Free Will” he replies carelessly, but that’s not what his eyes tell Dean. It’s more difficult to hide your emotions when you’re turned human, he’s well aware of that.

He chuckles humourlessly. “Two fourths are currently down for the count; thank God Gabriel brought you back.”

Crowley blinks. It takes a second for the old self-assured smirk Dean knows so much (and he refuses to admit he missed) to return. “Indeed. Imagine you three being left on your own. The world would explode.”

Dean doesn’t point out that he said the opposite when he threw in his lot with them once and for all shortly before his death.

“See you around” he says instead.

Crowley watches him as he drives away, standing still for as long as Dean can see him in the rearview mirror.

When he returns home, he immediately notices that things ahev gotten worse, or as Sam and Cas would have it, better. They don’t even notice he’s lost some weight during his illness. They only see what’s good in the world, and Jack is their beacon of hope. It makes Dean feel slightly ill.

It’s the guy himself who notices. “Dean, are you alright?”

“Fine as a peach. Case took a while, that’s all.”

“You look pale and thin.”

He snorts. “You and Cas need to talk about what’s considered appropriate for small talk again.”

“But are you sure...”

“Yeah, yeah – caught a cold, is all.”

“But on the other hand, you look better than you did before” Jack observes. “You smile more. That’s nice. I like it when people smile.”

Dean looks after him as he walks back to his room. Not a bad kid, he will admit that, even though he thought so at the beginning when all he knew was pain and panic. But his powers are all out of whack, and what’s worse, he doesn’t even seem to be aware of it.

At least that’s the conclusion that Dean comes to over the next few weeks.

He doesn’t know he’s doing it, he writes Crowley two days after his return.

Are you sure about that? C.

Yes.

Why did Gabriel bring me back? C.

Dean stares at his phone for a moment until he recognizes the text as the test it is.

Because I had brain fever and someone needed to nurture me back to health.

For a second I thought you’d fallen under his spell too. C.

Dean is rather convinced he was more worried than he lets on, but there are more important things to worry about, so he lets it slide.

He sees Crowley again just a month later. It’s an accident; another hunt presented itself, and since Sam and Cas continue to be blissfully unaware and Jack just goes along with it, Dean decoded the rugaru needed to be dealt with.

What he didn’t expect was Crowley, wearing a suit once more and claiming to be a FBI agent.

Dean quickly introduces himself as his partner so the witness won’t get suspicious, but as soon as they’re alone, he asks, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Crowley shrugs. “I found the case, decided I might as well do something about it.”

“For your karma or something?”

“Well, tell me what else I’m supposed to do” Crowley snaps.

Dean’s silent, but not because there are too few options; in fact there are too many.

You already did what Gabriel brought you back for, he could say. You got me back on my feet, and you’re goddamn clever – you have no problem getting money or a fake ID; so why this one? Why are you here fighting the good fight when you don’t have to? You could have lost my number as soon as I turned around the corner.

He doesn’t voice his thoughts, of course, because it always feels better to have backup while hunting.

They deal with the rugaru, only to realize that he munched on his wife and unborn child way before they ever heard of the case.

Dean hates being too late.

At least Crowley has found them a motel – a few grades over what Dean and Sam prefer, but hey, room service for once.

He doesn’t even think it weird to share a room with the guy who used to be the King of Hell, because that’s what his life has become, apparently.

“What’s this?” he asks when he sees a freaking quill on the desk and Crowley looks away, actually flustered.

Dean steps up to the desk – Crowley certainly has never respected their property, so he feels more than entitled to look – and asks, “You’ve been practicing calligraphy?”

It’s certainly no attempt to conceal or change his handwriting; no, that’s definitely different types of handwriting he’s been working on.

“It’s a hobby. It helps – it helps at night.”

Huh. Well, Dean supposes it’s healthier than a bottle of Jack.

“Looks nice” he finally offers. “Never had the best handwriting myself... my teachers used to complain.”

“You play the guitar though, don’t you?” Crowley says. “I remember when Lucifer decided he wanted to be a pathetic has been rock star instead of a pathetic has been angel.”

Dean could have sworn none of the guys paid particular attention at the moment. “Yeah, I was once put in a boys’ home, learned it a bit there. I wasn’t that good, though.”

“You never know until you try” Crowley says.

It’s such a freaking normal conversation to have, except for all of that being about as far from normal as it can possible get.

Dean understands what Crowley is offering, though. An evening off. No monsters, no baby devil, no mind controlled friends and brothers, just a normal talk between two – friends?

He guesses they are, now.

“How do you even make some of the lines so thin?” he asks, and when Crowley moves closer to him to show, he can feel that he’s relieved too.

And this time, when they say goodbye, Dean knows exactly they’ll see each other on the next case.

Somehow, they become each other’s link to sanity. When Sam, and Cas are gushing about how good and pure and important Jack is, when Crowley gets hit by another flashback to Hell, when it’s night and neither of them can sleep, haunted by memories of blood running over their hands, they call each other and talk about the most inane things just to be able to let go.

One night soon after his return, which still barely registered on brother’s and best friend’s radar, Dean feels like he can’t breathe. Jack acts all innocent, and he, Sam and Cas play happy family, but there’s something wrong, something so utterly – they are ignoring everything that’s wrong with the world, and he’s about to –  

He calls Crowley.

“I can’t do this” he breathes as soon as he picks up. “I have no idea why everyone is so happy to forget what came before this, but I can’t, and I’m going to start screaming any moment now – “

“The French Revolution wasn’t all it was cracked up to be” Crowley says suddenly. “This Robespierre didn’t even know how to make a good deal, or he’d have got ten years out of it.”

“Robespierre had a deal? Really?”

“Of course. How do you think a nobody like him got big so suddenly?”

“What about Louis XVI and the Austrian cake lover? And before you ask, I know she didn’t actually say that.”

“I am very aware you only like to pretend to be dumb. And please, the French royal family? Have you seen those churches in France? They’d never have condemned their souls to Hell – although in fairness, with the state of their finances by the time of the revolution, they probably felt they were already there.”

Dean laughs, and it’s enough.

At another time, Crowley wakes him in the middle of the night.

“Do you remember looking at the clock when your deal was up?” he asks, his voice shaking, and Dean knows.

“Thinking about when you were dragged to Hell?”

According to his own experience, it’s better to be direct. Being matter-of-fact about it helps.

“The hell hounds... They didn’t just tear me apart. They played a bit with me before that. I think the demon who made my deal didn’t like me every much.”

Dean winces as he imagines the scene. “Did I ever tell you about that time Gabriel killed me using a totally normal dog to teach Sam a lesson?”

“No. You keep surprising me. Just when I thought I’d heard it all...”

And Dean tells him about a diner with pretty good eye, Sam freaking out, and some things he vaguely remembers when he tries, like being electrocuted by his razor.

“Always know Gabriel was rather dramatic.”

“You can say that again” Dean says. “Sammy was so worried I thought he’d – “

He trails off because he remembers that Sam’s not worried about anything now, not even him.

“Relax, Squirrel. We’ll get Moose and Feathers back, and then you can ride off into the sunset.” But Crowley sounds strangely subdued.

“You wanna ride in the backseat or in the trunk again?”

The stunned silence on the other end tells him Crowley never considered himself part of their happy ending.

Neither of them knows what to say, so they stay up, listening to each other breathing.

For some reason, it helps.

Hunting with Crowley becomes his routine. Sam and Cas barely pay attention when he leaves anymore, even though jack keeps asking where he’s going.

Really, it’s more than just having a friend – slowly, Crowley becomes his home away from home, the place he can run to when everything becomes too much.

It’s only a matter of time before they run into other hunters. Dean’s just glad it turns out to be Jesse and Cesare, brought back from retirement one more time by a case near their hometown, instead of a more suspicious one.

And cleaning out the vampire nest is easier with four hunters instead of two.

One of them comes a bit too close to Dean’s jugular for Crowley’s liking. Dean’s fine – of course he is – and in fact just about to take care of the problem himself when he descends on the vamp with all the wrath he can muster.

“You do know decapitating them is enough, right?” Dean asks.

Crowley grins at him and he remembers how his true face used to look, back when they were howling at the moon.

That night at dinner, Jesse grins. “So now you know.”

“Know what?”

“What it’s like to settle down with a hunter. You’re pretty well matched, I’d say.”

Dean’s about to answer when Crowley says, “Thank you. Our arrangement is very satisfactory.”

And Dean is unable to say why he lets matter rest at that.

The Men of Letters try to set foot on American soil again, and it’s only thanks to Crowley that nothing happens.

He calls Dean after the fact as if it’s no big deal.

“Crowley, how many of them were there?”

“Five. Two attacked me when I tried to explain why I was there, so Really it’s not my fault; and the other three were more than glad to listen to me and disappear once they saw what I had done to the others.”

Dean knows he shouldn’t find that reassuring in the least, but he can’t help it.

“Thanks”.

“You’re welcome. What are your plans for the next few days? Babysitting?”

Dean knows that tone. “What’s up?”

“Apparent ghost activity in Virginia.”

He doesn’t even think about it. “Meet you there.”

He thinks of the Men of Letters during the whole drive, and after he’s greeted Crowley, already in his fed suit (he does seem to prefer it to his other clothing anyway; probably out of habit) he says, “I think we should approach other hunters. We need to be better connected in case the Brits attack.”

“You should.”

“Crowley, I’m not doing this without you.”

“I ran Hell and I had a contract with Hess. They won’t listen to me.”

“Then I’ll make them” Dean promises. “Jesse and Cesare got along with you just fine.”

“They also thought we were dating, Squirrel” Crowley reminds him.

“Yeah, well, no accounting for taste.”

Crowley gives him an unimpressed looks and Dean winks at him.

It’s not easy, in the beginning. Most hunters are understandably wary of Crowley and rather suspicious that Sam and Cas aren’t with them. But slowly, through a lot of hard work and many cases, they come to trust Crowley; in fact there comes the day someone asks after him when Dean arrives alone for once because the ex-demon is busy finishing up a hunt in New Orleans.

Somehow, they build up their own group of hunters, and the Winchesters everyone calls become instead Dean and Crowley, broken and mental and weary, but they still work.

Even Jody invites them to her place after a while, Dean finally having confessed to her that he has a new hunting partner after she asked for the hundredth time if there’s a reason he’s looking so much better nowadays.

Part of the reason might be Crowley insisting that he won’t become a drunk in this life as well, so Dean’s been scaling his own intake of alcohol drastically to show his support, and his friend’s insistence that they treat themselves to proper food on a regular basis.

Jody took the truth better than he expected but nonetheless insisted on seeing Crowley herself when she called them in on another case.  

“Could be a ruse” Crowley tells him when they park in front of him.

“You think she’s about to storm out and shoot you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Dean chuckles. “You know what? Me either, but she called us in on a case, so let’s go.”

Jody does indeed open the door for them and lead them to the living room before taking a deep breath. “Alright. Let me make one thing perfectly straight. I was about to either shout at you, or punch you if I ever saw you again, or at least that’s what I thought when Dean first told me he had a new hunting partner. But you” she points dramatically at Crowley “put the light back in his” she points at Dean “eyes. And as long as it stays that way, we don’t have a problem. Capiche?”

Crowley nods. Jody studies him and smirks. “No more Armani suit, hm?”

It’s true; since they decided to build up their network, and as a consequence spend more time together than ever, Crowley has been dressing down more and more often.

“They’re rather too expensive for the hunter lifestyle, I’m afraid.”

In fact –

“Wait a second, is that my Led Zeppelin t-shirt?”

“You have way too many to keep track of, anyway.”

Jody stares at them for a moment, a suspicious gleam in her eyes, before she smirks. “Too bad about the suit, you looked pretty hot.”

Dean, annoyed for a reason he can’t name, asks, “So what about the case?”

Jody shoots him a look he can’t read. “Vampire nest two towns over, I think.”

They deal with it soon enough, and that evening, they’re sharing drinks in Jody’s kitchen.

“I have to say” she admits after Crowley excuses himself because he “needs some air” – Dean’s pretty sure he just wants to give them some time alone – “I was rather worried when you first told me. But then other hunters who met you two told me Crowley was pretty decent. Is that because he’s human now?”

Dean shrugs. “To be honest, he was far from the worst of the bunch, even as a demon. Sure, he was an evil bastard, but you could always try and talk to him, and he helped us so often I lost count. When he died...” He swallows. “It wasn’t exactly easy on us.”

“On you, you mean. Sam’s freaking me out. Every time we talk, he sounds less like himself and more like some brainwashed cult member.”

“We’re working on it. Right now, we’re trying to figure out why Jack has no influence over me. Quite frankly, it would probably be easier if we could bring in others, but I’m not risking his influence being spread out.”

And at this point he’s terrified of losing Crowley like he lost Sam and Cas, but he doesn’t say it.

Jody seems to understand. “Whenever I can help, you’ll call me, alright?”

“Sure thing” he says just as Crowley returns.

She turns to him. “You got my number too, right?”

Crowley is obviously surprised. “Yes, Sheriff.”

“Excellent. And it’s Jody.”

“That went better than I thought it would” Crowley finally admits to Dean when they’re back in the Impala.

The thought occurs to him that he’s still unused to being trusted.

“That’s what happens when you ride around with a Winchester” he says. “People tend to think you’re one of the good guys.”

“Never saw that coming.”

“To be honest? Me neither.”

But he’s damn glad it happened, otherwise he’d have gone insane months ago.

Especially when he arrives at the bunker to Jack enthusiastically gushing over cats, and Sam and Cas all but ready to get him a kitten.

“Sorry kiddo, I’m allergic” Dean says pointedly. Jack’s face falls.

“That means you can ever hold a kitten?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it, I start sneezing like you wouldn’t believe.”

“That’s awful!”

Dean realizes that he’s actually sorry for him.

Again, not a bad kid, just unfortunately an X-man who has no control over his mind-whammy powers.

“That’s fine, I don’t like them that much anyway” he says, “and I don’t think a pet would be happy in the bunker, to be honest.”

Jack nods. “They’d miss the sun, probably.”

Dean nods, glad he could at least keep that from happening, even though Sam glares at him throughout dinner because “you’re being selfish, Dean.”

As he’s cleaning the dishes, Jack touches his elbow. Dean jumps. He never even heard him enter the kitchen.

“I’m sorry Sam said that to you. You’re not selfish.”

Dean shakes his head. By now, he’s so used to Sam’s and Cas’ super happy and occasionally rude selves he didn’t even bat an eyelid. And every time he gets too frustrated, he can always call Crowley. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I just want us all to get along” he frets. “You’re gone more and more often.”

“The monsters won’t kill themselves, I’ve told you before.”

“Then why do Cas and Sam act like they don’t exist in the first place?”

Dean swallows. If he acts up, God knows what Jack’s powers will do to him. “Life’s complicated.”

It’s the best answer he can give him.

He retires to his room and a text from Crowley.

Not nearly as cute as you. C.

It’s a picture of a squirrel running up a tree. Dean rolls his eyes.

One of these days I will find an animal to compare you too.

Oh there are several I can think of right now. C.

Of course he can. Dean grins, as always choosing not to realize their messages have taken on a decidedly flirty tone lately.

There comes the day where he has to pay attention, however.

Because everything changes on Christmas, and isn’t that wonderfully cliché.

Point is, there wasn’t nothing between Dean and Crowley back when he was a demon, but there wasn’t something, either. And they carried that tension around with them when he was turned back human, and now...

It all doesn’t make any kind of sense, but it’s the closest he comes to feeling sane these days, hunting with him and actually laughing and relaxing for once, so he’s not going to wonder about it.

He can’t get away from the bunker on either Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Sam, Cas and Jack subject him to creepiest family Christmas he can remember, complete with carols and watching family classics, every single one of them proclaiming how happy they are, and Dean thinks back to a tree decorated with cheap car-freshners and eggnogg almost too strong to drink and decides he’d rather have that, because it felt real at least.

Real is being aware that there are bad things out there, and still being happy despite of that. Real is knowing that everything can be snatched from you at a moment’s notice, and possibly will, and still celebrating. Real is what Crowley sends him that night.

Jody let me know in no uncertain terms that I should be wishing you merry Christmas, so consider this it. C.

He was glad when he heard Jody offered Crowley a place to stay for the holidays. No man should be quite alone at this time of the year, even Dean agrees to that.

Mission accomplished. Right back at you.

He instantly feels better.

A few days later, they have their own celebration in a shitty motel somewhere between the bunker and Massachusetts, because that’s where their next case takes them.

Stupid as it is, Dean has brought Crowley a present – a gun not unlike his own, because he knows how a weapon can ground someone, and it just seems unbelievable Crowley never quite got a signature one over all these years.

He gets a first edition of Slaughterhouse-Five.

“Crowley...”

“You quoted him all the time when you were a demon, it wasn’t difficult to figure out” he shrugs.

They’re both stone cold sober. In fact, Dean didn’t even have one drink during the forced Christmas cheer at the bunker because he’s careful to always keep his wits about jack. It’s been probably a week since he had a single beer.

All of that is important because at least alcohol would have given him a reason to do what he does.

He drags Crowley into a kiss, and why he thinks now that is a good idea when even his demon self knew it would complicate matters beyond repair is anyone’s guess.

Crowley draws back and studies his face. An apology lies heavy on Dean’s tongue, but in the next moment he’s lying on the bed, Crowley grinning down from above. “I was wondering how long you could keep resisting, Squirrel”.

“I bet” he mutters and rolls them around, accepting another kiss.

And just like that, it becomes another feature during their hunts.

It’s funny because it feels like nothing and everything had changed at the same time. Sure, the sex is good, but Dean still goes home to the bunker at the end of the day, leaving Crowley to do whatever it is he does when he’s not around (He pointedly doesn’t think about who he might be – no, he’s not going there. he’s a grown man, he can deal).

But they also text way more often now. And if hunts are drawn out a day or two while the “recuperate” just to spend some more time with each other... no one has to know.

They start spending more time at Jody’s too, since her place has kind of become a hunter refuge and it’s time they build up their own network.

“Hey” she says as she lets them in. “Always glad to see Dean and my would-be murderer.”

“I apologized.”

“And I will continue to make you do so on a regular basis.”

“Sheriff, I’m certain you could make me do quite some other things if you put your mind to it.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Dean feels uncomfortable because their flirting freaks him out – not because he is – certainly not because he is –

“You know what?” Jody says suddenly. “I think Dean’s got you covered pretty well.”

“Yes” Crowley says, and if it weren’t Crowley, Dean would call the look on his face gentle. “Yes, he has.”

Dean swallows.

Later, Jody catches him alone. “I sure hope he makes you happy, because I don’t feel like kicking anyone’s ass today. That wendigo last week banged me up a bit.”

“Are you okay?” he asks immediately, but she waves him off.

“I’ve had worse. So, you and Crowley? Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”

“You did?”

“Had him here for Christmas, didn’t I? He moped right until he got your reply to his text. He’s so gone on you I couldn’t even bring myself to tease him about it.”

Dean almost laughs because the thought is so ridiculous. “Yeah, right. Crowley brooding and starring at his phone.”

“You may find it funny, Dean, but take care. Both of you should.”

He can’t decide if that’s supposed to be a warning or not. Just how much have Jody and Crowley been talking when he’s not there?

In the end, he shrugs and forgets about it.

Instead, he kind of... settles down with Crowley when he’s not checking in at the bunker. He spends much more time on the road than at home now, and only Jack ever seems unsettled by it. Sam and Cas are actually glad he’s not around much – maybe it’s the mind control, but for some reason they seem more and more intent on keeping Jack for themselves.

It’s profoundly unsettling to hearing Cas basically squeal with glee when Dean announces he’s leaving, but thank God there’s always Crowley waiting for him. Now and then they don’t find a new case immediately and instead spend a few days in the country side together; Hedwig is always glad to see them.

It’s just easy being with Crowley. With Lisa and Cassie, it was difficult. He had strong feelings for them, maybe he even loved them, but he always kept a part of himself hidden. With Crowley, that’s not necessary. He knows everything there is to know about his ugly past, and when he wakes up screaming from a nightmare or is a little too brutal on a hunt, he says nothing, just buys him pie or, when he’s in a mood, helps slaughter the monster of the week in a borderline sadistic manner, and he never judges him for it.

Because when he’s around Crowley, Dean’s not the only one who’s been hit and hit and hit until his very soul feels fracture.

And somehow, they complement one another, feel more whole together than apart.

Dean doesn’t pout a name to it. It’s probably better this way.

Then again... there are some things he hasn’t considered. That he might have some influence over Crowley, for example.

Given all that’s happening, it’s probably understandable that Dean doesn’t notice certain changes – to tread an old cliché, he’s simply too close.

And so it’s Donna who asks one day on a hunter gathering he’s managed to persuade Sam and Cas not to attend because “the kid isn��t ready yet”. She’s watching Crowley entertain the round with a story of their last hunt. “And that’s the same King of Hell you guys and Jody told me about? I get that he’s human now, but he’s downright jolly.”

Dean manages not to spit his drink. Because Crowley jolly?

Sardonic? Sure. Cruel? Bingo. Savage? Certainly.

But jolly?

Yet, to his surprise, it’s as if Donna has opened the floodgates because suddenly he notices the changes in his – hunting partner too.

Sure, now that he’s found his footing as a human, Crowley is Crowley still – sarcastic, confident, with a certain streak of cruelty that sometimes shines through but these days never goes overboard. But beside that, he’s polite, friendly, and, yes – a regular sunshine compared to Sam and Cas even when they’re in their right minds, or Dean, for that matter. He’s constantly laughing and making jokes when he’s in a good mood. He’s more than once dispelled any ill-humour or suspicions other hunters may have about him with well-timed pun.

Crowley, is in fact, a very jolly man.

He wonders if he should talk to him about it, but doesn’t have to. That night in their motel room, when he’s almost asleep, Crowley asks, “What’s on your mind? I’m not your brother, you know. I can tell.”

“Thank God you’re not my brother, not even I am that much of a pervert” he murmurs.

Crowley nudges him. “Come on.”

Ah yes, the former King of hell. Excellent hunter, apparently jolly guy and a damn nuisance when Dean just wants to get some sleep.

He gives in because he knows it’ll be the easiest way to shut him up.”

“Nothing. Donna just mentioned that you’re generally a pretty happy guy. I was just wondering why.”

Crowley’s silent, and Dean thinks he’s about to get some sleep after all when he suddenly says into the darkness, “We’re screwed.”

Dean snorts. “Yes.”

“Lucifer’s child is alive and appears to use some sort of subconscious mind control.”

“Correct.”

“I was the King of hell and now I’m a hunter with enough issues for more or less all of us who can’t even afford decent room service.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“And when I die I’ll just return to Hell and it’ll all start over again. This is as good as it’s going to get. I decided I might as well enjoy it.”

That’s... actually pretty healthy when Dean thinks about it.

“And?” he asks, somewhat awake again, “Does it work?”

“Mostly. I take it one day at a time.”

It’s the only way for them to do it. It’s the only way for any hunter to do it.

They go to sleep.

Something changes between them after that night. They still don’t talk about it, but Dean stops flirting with the waitresses, bartenders and witnesses they encounter, and even Crowley dials his usual innuendos back except when it comes to Dean himself. It’s a bit weird at first but they make it work.

One day, they have just saved a family from a demon terrorizing them, Dean looks at Crowley comforting a little girl and realizes just how good a man the former King of Hell is becoming. It feels good to imagine that he has played some part in that.

“Thank you!” Elli, the girl, calls out just as they’re about to get in the car.

“You’re super nice!”

Dean sniggers at him for about an hour after that, but it’s true. Crowley can be rather nice when he wants to.

He’s also rather attractive whether he tries to or not, not that Dean is jealous when others hit on him. It’s not like they ever said anything about being exclusive, flirting with other or no flirting with others.

Dean just... happens to not have hooked up with anyone else since they became... whatever they are. He could, of course; he just hasn’t had occasion.

That’s what he likes to tell himself until he is on another solo hunt near the bunker that’s pretty much just a simple salt and burn. He doesn’t need backup, which is why he decided against calling Crowley in (alright, so maybe it was a bit too close to home for Dean; he’d rather keep Crowley away from this mess than risk him being involved) but another hunter, Rick, as he introduces himself, lights up on the case as well, so they work together.

After they have done what they needed to, they go to a bar. Dean limits himself to one or two drinks, these days, but Rick happily downs whiskey and chats up the bartender.

“Didn’t you say you had a girlfriend?” Dean asks eventually.

Rick grins. “Sure, but we both know we’re having a little fun on the side.”

Dean nods. It’s not his place to judge. As long as they’re happy...

“What about you?”

“I’m taken” he replies.

“Ah well. Nothing wrong with monogamy, as long as both agree on it.”

That’s just the problem, Dean reflects that night in his room. Are they exclusive? How does he know Crowley’s not having fun with someone else right now?

His text alert rings out.

Hope it all went well. C.

Alright, maybe not right now. But still. Crowley’s not bound to him, he could easily...

Dean’s very tempted to get a bottle of Jack and forget about everything but then he remembers a night at the bunker when he called Crowley half-drunk and the ex-demon told him You’re better than this and doesn’t.

Still, his and Crowley’s next hunt can’t come soon enough, and a week later, they’re driving towards Iowa.

Dean tells him all about his last case – well, everything he hasn’t told him already, anyway – and Crowley listens in the way Sam and Cas never really bother to anymore.

When Dean arrives at Rick and his girlfriend’s philosophy of love, Crowley says, “I see the appeal.”

Dean keeps looking at the road and tries to convince himself the truth doesn’t hurt, just a little.

“On the other hand... I think that there are exceptions to every rule.” And suddenly there’s Crowley’s hand on his thigh, warm and comforting, and Dean swallows.

“I agree with you there.”

When he casts him a furtive glance, Crowley looks pleased.

“You got a tattoo?” he asks sleepily against Crowley’s shoulder that night.

“Yes. I liked the idea, so – “

“Looks good on you.”

And Crowley moves a little, and all of a sudden they’re more or less lying in each other’s arms and he’s way too comfortable and tired to move.

After that, it becomes rather difficult to pretend they are just hunting partners who do they do occasionally.

Dean misses Crowley when he’s back at the bunker.

Things are just easier when he’s around.

So maybe it’s just predictable that eventually his tongue slips.

“Dean Winchester” he introduces himself to another pair of hunters, “and my boyfriend, Crowley.”

“Boyfriend?” the guy asks and Dean wants to take it back immediately.

“Trust me” Crowley says smoothly, laying his hand on the small of Dean’s back, “I tried to make him call me manfriend, but he didn’t like it.”

The guy laughs and Dean realizes Crowley has raised no objection.

When they’re alone in their motel room later, the former demon asks, “So, boyfriend?”

“If you want” Dean replies as casually as he can. “We have to introduce you as something.”

“Oh, I am clearly something” Crowley says, raising an eyebrow.

“Agreed” he says, grabbing his tie (thank God for those rare suit days) and dragging him into a kiss.

After that, they refer to each other as partners, because boyfriend just sounds a bit juvenile for their liking.

They soon have other problems.

It’s only a matter of time before Asmodeus comes for Crowely. They knew that from the beginning. But it doesn’t make it any less terrifying for Dean when Jesse calls and tells him about signs of heavy demon activity in North Dakota. The kind of activity that’s strong enough to open a portal to Hell, if they want.

“The Lance” Crowley says as soon as Dean hangs up, “Michael’s Lance. Do you still have it?”

“Yeah, but your broke it, remember? It’s back in the bunker.”

“I’m sure we can repair the runes. I’m clever, and you’re good with your hands.”

Dean smirks. “Fine, your Highness, got it. I’ll go and find it.”

Crowley doesn’t even flinch anymore when he calls him that.

He does indeed find it in the storage room he put it in, but no other work is required of him because Jack, apparently genuinely happy that he’s home, if only for a short while, comes looking for him.

“What’s this?”

“The new King of hell has been about. If I can find a way to repair this...”

Suddenly, there’s a flash of light. It knocks Dean right out.

When he comes to moments later, Jack is frantically apologizing – “I didn’t know what was going on, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to!” – and the Lance is repaired. He assures him it’s really good news and leaves.

Kid would be a real asset on hunts, if he could just control those damn powers.

Dean would like to say that he and Crowley find and get rid of Asmodeus; unfortunately, he finds them in their motel room, and seconds later they’re standing in an open field, demons holding them at bay.

“Ah, the formerly-know-as-Great-One” Asmodeus drawls as he steps up to them. Dean rolls his eyes.

“Wait a moment” Crowley says, and Dean already knows what he’s about to do. “I know you want both me and the Lance, but here’s the thing: I can give you Lucifer’s son and all of the Winchester, if you’ll only let me live.”

And in one quick move, he’s punched Dean in the face and taken the Lance from him.

Asmodeus laughs. “And to think my spies told me he actually meant something to you.”

“Oh, your spies were utterly mistaken.” Crowley plunges the Lance into his chest almost casually. “As always they didn’t see the bigger picture.”

The demons flee as soon as he goes up in smoke.

Dean laughs as he wipes the blood from his face. “Look, I know you were putting on a show, but didn’t you have to hit me that hard?”

Crowley lets the Lance drop and proceeds to clean his face, something like guilt in his eyes.

“Hey” Dean says when he won’t look him in the eyes, “I knew you were acting, alright?”

“You did?”

“Please. As if you’d ever betray me again.” Only as he says the words does he realize he means them. He trusts Crowley. Utterly and completely.

His partner stares at him, then drags him into a hard and somewhat bloody kiss. The stay on the field longer than advisable, but it’s fun nonetheless. The clothes Asmodeus wore are still there for everyone to see, Hell is in an uproar, Jack has control of the bunker without even wanting it, and yet all Dean can think is God bless this mess, God bless this crazy, unpredictable, wonderful mess his life’s become.  

Crowley and he have been doing... whatever the hell this new existence they’ve cut out for themselves in between meeting up on cases, making sure Sam and Cas are paranoid enough to want to keep Jack for themselves and building up their own network is even supposed to be called for a whole year already when they light up on a case in Vegas.

People have been dying during their shotgun weddings all over town. All signs point to ghost activity – a ghost who clearly hates weddings and spontaneous gestures of affection, apparently.

“Which means we are probably looking for a bride or a groom who was left at the altar” Dean says.

“Or things soured rather soon after the wedding” Crowley adds. “And then met a violent end.”

“Wonderful. I’m sure there’s only ever been a handful of cases of that happening in Vegas.”

“I will admit it seems rather pointless to research the specific ghost. There is, of course, another possibility.”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Playing bait and helping the ghost move on when it attacks?”

“You read my mind” Crowley replied, smirking.

That’s what they eventually end up doing. By calculating the most likely place the ghost will strike next and purchasing two cheap rings, they’re on their way to become Mister and Mister Sheppard when the man performing the ceremony is knocked out, and they have to act quickly.

It all turns out fine in the end, and for some reason, when they say goodbye the next morning, the low-cost ugly rings are still firmly sitting on their fingers.

Dean keeps his on – after all, he wore Mom’s for years, so it’s not as big a giveaway as it normally would be.

Sam and Cas don’t even comment. It’s Jack.

“Dean, why are you wearing a ring?”

He shrugs. “Picked it up on the latest hunt.”

“It looks a bit like Mom’s” Sam says gently, finally paying attention.

“Yeah” he says, and it’s promptly forgotten.

At least he thinks so at first, but Jack’s fascination with it has unabated the next day.

“They mean to symbolize love for all eternity, did you know that?”

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes. He can’t help but think that despite months of Sam and Cas looking after him, he’s still pretty naive.

“Yes, but this just happens to be a plain old ring I picked up” he answers, even though the lie feels wrong, despite the fact that he and Crowley can hardly get married for real and it’s not like it’s tempting at all –

“I just think it must be nice when two people love each other” he says innocently and for a moment, Dean wants to give in, to comfort him and let his powers take control, before he reminds himself that the only reason he’s even here is that his mother was raped by the devil and he has to live with that.

If only he didn’t have such creepy mind-control powers he doesn’t even seem to be aware of; he’d be more comfortable comforting him then.

“I – I suppose so” he says, thinking of Crowley. He is not ready to openly acknowledge what the former king means to him – isn’t that freaking ironic, now that’s wearing a fake wedding ring on his finger.

Thank God Jack leaves him alone after that. Dean knows he should probably remove the ring, but can’t bring himself to.

Maybe it’s for the best, considering he gets a text saying Claire is a meddling menace of magnanimous proportions and she has no business knowing things which means that Crowley dropped by Jody’s and they got a fair portion of alcohol into him, by the looks of the selfie accompanying the text.

Why?

She was annoying me about my ring, and then Jody tried to threaten me again. That wasn’t very entertaining.

Dean swallows even as his hearts starts beating wildly in his chest.

Crowley hasn’t taken his ring off either.

He’s starting to think they do everything backward.

Could you stop giving Crowley free drinks? He’s already three sheets to the wind, he texts Jody instead, only for his boyfriend to call him and complain because he’s “thirsty”.

And yes, he’s hammered alright.

But as he derails into complaining how he just sleeps better when Dean’s around, he doesn’t find himself minding much.

Maybe they’ve never been each other’s grip on sanity. Maybe they’re just driving the crazy train together.

He’s surprisingly fine with it.

Other hunters get used to them, to having Crowley around, ex-king of hell or not. Eventually Garth joins them on one of their gatherings.

“Hi guys!” he draws Dean into a hug. “Heard through the grape vine that you took the plunge! Congrats! I assume that’s the happy hubby?”

And before anyone can do anything about it Crowley’s treated to an enthusiastic hug as well.

Dean’s too busy wondering why the hunting community considers them married now to really pay attention. Maybe the rings they haven’t talked about since Crowley called him drunk from Jody’s.

Come to think of it, probably.

They still don’t mention it between them.

A few weeks later, Dean is doing laundry in the bunker when Crowley facetimes him. Surprised – usually he prefers good old-fashioned phone calls – he picks up.

All he sees is Crowley’s empty bed in yet another motel.

“What’s – “

“Come on, say hello to Dean.”

Dean doesn’t understand until he hears barking.

“Crowley, is there a hellhound in your room?”

“Of course. You know her. Juliet.”

“Juliet!? Crowley, I get that she was your favourite but you’re human now, and – “

“She has grown so much” Crowley marvels.

“You can’t see her!”

More excited barking.

“Shh, sweetheart, Papa is talking to Daddy.”

Daddy? No. Hell no.

“Now wait a moment, pretty sure I made my stance on spontaneously having to parent anything quite clear.”

“As my husband by common consensus, you’re supposed to be on my side here, and she’s been neglected for so long – “

Crowley falls silent while Dean still stares at the dog he can’t see.

Husband. Crowley just said it out loud.

Dean’s still looking at Juliet as if that will give him the answer he’s looking for.

Eventually, he clears his throat. “You’re not allowed in the Impala, no matter what you do, so don’t even think about it.”

An excited bark is all the reply he gets.

“I expected that” Crowley says smoothly, but his voice is trembling slightly.

Dean knows the feeling.

“At least you got something to cuddle with now” he teases him.

“Wouldn’t have to if you weren’t on child-minding duty” he grumbles. It’s probably the closest he’ll ever get to admitting that he misses him, but he’s already called Dean his husband, and he won’t pry.

“I’d rather be with you two” he admits. “Pat her from me, would you?”

They hang up soon afterwards.

“You are really happy” Jack tells him at dinner.

He shrugs. Yeah, it’s kind of nice to think that Juliet’s back and that someone’s with Crowley right now, just in case anything happens. “No, I mean it. It’s so real.”

He has no idea how to answer, if that’s a subject that comes up a lot with them. Dean stopped paying attention to anything the three talk about in their own surreal little world where hunting monsters is no longer important and everything’s perfect quite some time ago, which is probably for the best.

It’s another two weeks before he can get away again. Crowley’s picked a nice hotel this time around; must have made quite some money by hustling.

As soon as he enters the room, he’s jumped upon by at least thirty pounds of slobbering invisible hellhound.

“Hell to you too” he mutters, trying to figure out how to scratch her behind the ears or something. “Where’s your... owner?”

He hears the shower running and smiles.

He’s got to wash the drool off anyway.

Later, he’s watching Crowley feed Juliet some snacks. “Why is she so happy to see me, anyway? Didn’t think she’d like me much.”

Crowley shrugs. “She was always the most attuned to my emotions of all my hellhounds.”

“Please don’t start licking me.”

“Fine, if you don’t want to...”

Dean shakes his head and moves to pat her. “She’ll be a great asset on hunts. Don’t know how other hunters will react, though.”

Crowley shrugs. “My girl knows to behave.”

And then taking an invisible killer machine on walks becomes routine, too.

“Dean!” Claire, who was pretty pissed at Crowley when she first met him but is now more than happy to get them to join her on hunts, calls out while they’re fighting their way through a vampire nest. He reels around.

“Crowley got locked in with the rest of them!” she pants, wide-eyed and alarmed, and later he’ll probably laugh that she’s worried about the guy she knows very well once tried to kill Jody on a date.

“That’s unfair. There’s only, what, five of them left?” he asks as he de-capitulates the one remaining in the room with him.

Claire blinks. “Seriously? That’s all you have to say about your husband – “

The door Crowley’s locked behind bursts open under a kick of his and he strolls out, cleaning his blade. “That was unpleasant.”

“You okay?”

“Why shouldn’t I be, Squirrel?”

Claire throws her hands in the air. “Clinically insane. Both of you. In-sane.”

“You’re absolutely correct” Dean tells her before he drags Crowley into a kiss they probably shouldn’t subject a teenager to.

Dean gets them burgers because despite Crowley being sure to complain, he loves them as much as Dean does.

Out of habit, he lets his gaze wander across the motel parking room when he returns to their home for the night, and it is then that everything come crashing down.

Because right there is Cas’ Lincoln.

Which means Sam and Cas are here – they never go anywhere alone these days.

And they also always, always bring Jack along.

So by now they must have found Crowley. Either they immediately attacked him and Jack blew him to smithereens, or Cas stabbed him, or Sam shot him, or he’s under the influence too –

Dean can’t breathe. All of a sudden, it’s like back right before Gabriel resurrected Crowley.

Because Crowley is gone. Dean lost him. Again.

And Dean never even told him that –

That he –

The ring feels heavy on his finger as he forces himself to breathe. He has to stay strong. He and Crowley had a plan, and whether or not he’s there to see Dean fulfil it, he owes him. He would have lost his last tentative grip on his sanity if not for him.

He can deal with this because he has to. He won’t go gently into that good night. Dean Winchester will fight until he does down; and perhaps more importantly he’ll tear anyone who dared touch his husband apart with both of his hands.

Not the healthiest coping mechanism, but there you go.

His plans, however, change dramatically when he opens the door.

Because sure enough, Crowley is telling Jack all about Juliet, the same smile he’s got used to on Sam and Cas on his face, but –

He’s acting. He’s not actually mind-whammied. Dean has no idea how he can tell, but that’s his man alright.

Juliet’s another giveaway. Crowley was right, she always picks up on his feelings towards others, and she’s  whining reluctantly as Jack pats her, only to jump excitedly at Dean and bark with relief.

“Good girl” he mumbles, scratching her behind the ears, “Don’t worry.”

“Dean, you could have told us Crowley’s back” Sam says gently, and man, the nephilim powers have really done a number on him. Normally, he’d be pretty angry that Dean lied to him for over a year, but now he’s relaxed and doesn’t even seem to remember that Crowley used to be a demon. He also doesn’t make a single allusion to the rings on their fingers.

Neither does Cas. “I am surprised to see you. Did you fight the Empty too?”

Crowley shakes his head. “Gabriel saved me.”

There’s not even a hint of surprise that Gabriel’s back, because Sam and Cas live in Jack’s wonderful world now where of course everything is going perfectly fine, and there’s nothing they can do about it. Yet.

“No offense, but why are you here? Told you I could handle this hunt.”

“I was curious what made you so happy” Jack replies. “You smile on your phone a lot, and Cas tells me that’s because you like the one who’s texting you.”

Despite acting like he’s under mind control, Crowley still manages to throw him a smug look.

Annoying bastard, Dean thinks fondly. “Yeah, well – feels good to have a hunting partner, is all.”

Jack nods. “It’s super nice you too are wearing matching rings! That’s like friendship bracelets, right?”

“Yeah” he forces out because he is not going to give the devil’s kid the birds and bees talk. “Something like it.”

“Dean insisted on them.”

That’s it, he’ll strangle Crowley once they are alone.

Or find some other form of punishment. Perhaps a more... enjoyable one.

Juliet whines and Dean quickly pats her. Sam doesn’t even bat an eyelid, despite him knowing how much Dean has hated dogs ever since they dragged him to Hell. Is that even still his brother in there?

“Crowley and Juliet can come live with us at the bunker” Jack says happily. He probably only really wants to play around with her, but Dean won’t object. He’s rather looking forward to having Crowley around all the time, if he’s being honest.

As soon as the door closes behind the three on the search for a room of their own, Crowley drags him into a borderline painful kiss. Dean’s unsure what’s going on, but allows it.

“What is it?” he asks eventually, drawing back. Juliet’s jumped on their bed (and how Sam missed the fact that there’s only one, he’ll never be able to say).

“I figured it out. Jack’s powers... they are about devotion, as you probably guessed. But there’s something else there, too. I don’t think he means to, but... Jack promises you whatever you desire. Now you – at a time when the mind control should have been taking effect, you were too shattered to really want anything. The others – For Cas, it’s Paradise on earth. No more pain, no more hunger – “

“No more free will” Dean spits.

“Yes, but he doesn’t realize that. Jack’s powers make sure of that. And Sam? He’s living a life where he’s forgotten anything bad that ever happened in your family. He basically got a blank slate where you two are as tight as you can be, Cas is brother number three and even Satan’s kid is good because everyone deserves a chance.”

Dean sighs, then raises an eyebrow. “What about you? What did he – or rather they – show you?”

“That’s just the point. There was nothing to bribe me with.”

“What do you – “

Crowley cradles his face in his hands. They don’t often indulge in such gentle touches and Dean leans into it. “I have what I want. I have everything I could ever want.”

“Crowley – “ Dean breathes. “I love you.”

He smirks as he lets his hands drop. “I kind of figured.”

“Bastard” he says, but with no heat in it.

Crowley rolls his eyes. “Of course I love you too. Have for far longer than I knew, I think.”

Dean underestimated what these words said out loud would do to him. “Send Juliet to the others.”

“She doesn’t like Jack, and I don’t see – “

“Crowley” he forces out through gritted teeth, “I am this close to just tearing your clothes off right here, and I’m not doing it with her watching.”

Crowley hurries her out.

Dean’s gotten so sued to having Crowley ride shotgun that he’s surprised every time he turns his head to talk to him and instead she’s Jack, who is ecstatic at finally being allowed in the Impala. Dean couldn’t argue against it without blowing his cover, so here they are. They’re alone; Juliet got nervous about riding in the Lincoln without Crowley, so he’s joined Sam and Cas, not without trying to see how far the mind control goes, of course.

“You have been spending a lot of time with Crowley” Jack observes.

“It’s what happens when you’re hunters.”

“I don’t understand. He was the King of Hell. Sam and Cas seem to have forgotten about it, but I remember you yelling about him.”

Dean grimaces. “That was before he was back. I was grieving.”

“You were angry.”

“Sometimes that’s just the reaction you have. I was hurt, and I lashed out.”

A pause follows.

Eventually, Jack says, “i like talking to you. You’re different.”

Dean tightens his hold on the steering wheel and hopes he hasn’t realized. “How?”

“I don’t quite understand” jack says innocently, “But Sam and Cas talk as if there’s nothing bad in the world. As if there are no monster who could get to me. You though – you go out and slay them. It all seems a bit more... realistic.”

Because it’s the truth, kid, Dean wants to say. Because this world is unfair and dangerous and bloody, and this is as good as it gets. It doesn’t work the way your powers want everyone to believe it does. Right now, I’m as close to happiness I have ever been, and it’s because I married the former king of Hell and know all of it could be snatched away in a second. That’s life. That’s real.

He doesn’t.

When they arrive at the bunker, Juliet’s already happily running around, familiarizing herself with her new home. Crowley looks incredibly relieved to see him. “Squirrel, how about you show me my new room?”

Meaning, of course, Dean’s room, although he will be given another one for show.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Crowley pushes him against it, kissing him passionately. “Thank God you’re here. You were right about the creepiness; I barely recognize Moose and Feathers under all that happy-go-lucky attitude anymore.”

“There was a reason I almost lost my mind. Can’t say I’m too angry about it these days, though.”

Juliet scratches at the door. Dean sighs. “We should let her in. She’s probably freaking out because of Jack being close all the time.”

Crowley nods and complies, although he’s holding Dean’s hand while he does so.

They settle down in the bunker. Sam and Cas act confused and downright dizzy the first few days while whatever kind of spell they’re under tries to incorporate Crowley into their little world.

Finally they seem to settle on seeing Crowley as just another hunter, without speaking of the rings or that he and Dean always sit close together on the couch.

Again, it’s Lucifer’s kid himself who comes to talk to them.

They were absolutely sure every occupant of the bunker was asleep – Cas has liked to rest at night ever since he came back from the Empty – and so Crowley snuck into Dean’s room. They’re not even fooling around, but reading next to each other when there’s a knock on the door.

“Dean, Crowley?”

They look at one another, but Jack obviously knows they’re in bed together, so why bother to pretend?

He enters the room and looks at them. “You’re in love” he finally says. “You’re in love with one another.”

“What gave it away?” Crowley asks. “It was the wedding rings, wasn’t it.”

Jack frowns. “You’re very sarcastic”.

When Dean wants to interfere, he continues, “But you’re real. You are exactly what you seem to be. But Sam and Cas are not. Cas isn’t my father. And Sam’s not my friend. Not really. They just tell me what I want to hear.”

“Jack – “ Dean says as both him and Crowley get out of the bed.

“No. Don’t lie to me. They lie to me all the time, but I don’t think they mean to. It’s my powers, isn’t it.”

“Yes” Crowley says before Dean can stop him. “Dean” his husband turns to him, “He wants the truth.”

Jack nods. “Thank you”. There are tears in his eyes. “I want what you have. I want people to like me for who I am.”

“Jack – I don’t think that’s possible unless you get your powers under control” Dean says carefully.

“I know. They killed Mom. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to.”

“We know that, Jack.”

There are real tears running down his face now, and Dean wants to reach out but isn’t sure he’d welcome the touch.

“You said God left. And the Darkness, too.”

Dean nods.

“I think i could too” Jack says. “I think I ought to. See the universe. Learn more about me.”

“Only if you want.”

“Yeah” he says slowly, “Yeah I think I want a chance at finding something real.”

Dean takes Crowley’s hand.

Jack smiles. “You two keep holding onto one another, yeah?”

“I am never letting this one go, I’m a tad possessive” Crowley tells him. Dean squeezes his hand.

 They allow Jack to say his farewell to Sam and Cas on his own. They grew close – as far as the mind control allows it – and he’s doing the right thing.

It takes less than five minutes after he’s gone (Dean and Crowley thought it prudent to put their clothes back on – their t-shirts and boxers would have been a dead giveaway) Sam and Cas come to them, looking like they just woke up from a long sleep.

He takes his brother in his arms and squeezes him for all it’s worth. Same with Cas.

 Now that Sam and Cas are back to normal and Jack has left, they have a lot more questions about Crowley’s presence than before.

And about other things in general.

Namely, it takes Sam no time at all to point out that the ring Dean wears matches Crowley’s.

And so he draws him away from the others and into a corner. “Dude, I think Crowley’s still got a thing for you.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “What gave it away?”

“Wait – you know?”

“Yeah, Sammy, I’m not an idiot. Kind of figured it out back when – “

“Dean” Crowley calls out, “help me out here. I’m trying to get Cassie up to speed. Did we first take care of the shifter in Nevada or the wraith in Colorado?”

They really have been hunting quite a lot over the past year. “The wraith I think.”

“Thanks, Squirrel.”

“Oh, you can thank me all you want later” he replies automatically.

“Dean” Sam hisses, “You just flirted with him.”

“Yes.”

“Yes? What do you mean, yes?”

“Can’t a man flirt with his partner without – “

“Partner?”

“Fine, you can say husband too, that’s what most of our friends think anyway – “

“Husband?”

And that’s how Dean learns Sam and Cas were so far under they didn’t even realize when they saw them together. It takes dinner and quite a few explanations for them to understand everything’s that gone down.

Sam is about to ask another question when Crowley’s phone rings.

“It’s Jody.”

“Greet her from me” Dean says as he gets up.

He touches his shoulder on his way out to answer.

“Wait, Jody is calling Crowley?”

“Told you we’ve got a pretty wide network by now.”

“He tried to kill her once.”

“He tried to kill everyone he knew at some point or another.”

“Dean is right” Cas says. “And Crowley is human now.”

“I know that, it’s just a bit much to wrap my head around.”

Dean shrugs. “You get used to it. I did.”

“Dean, it just – it all sounds a bit crazy.”

“Probably because it is” he concedes, “but I – I’m happy.”

He hasn’t realized just how much until he says it aloud. But considering everything? Jack decided to do the right thing and take himself out of the equation, they actually have a full support network when it comes to hunts, his brother and best friend are back to normal, and he has Crowley.

Yes, he’s pretty damn jubilant.

When Crowley returns, Juliet’s at his heels, and she wastes no time in jumping on Dean’s lap.

He sighs. “At least you get your dog now, Sammy.”

“I guess” he says somewhat weakly.

Sam and Cas go to their rooms soon after that; they both look like they need the rest. As it turns out, they crash for about a week. Dean and Crowley don’t mind so much as long as they can keep an eye on them. They spend their time turning the bunker into their network’s whirring brain – amongst other things.

On the evening Sam and Cas wake up, Crowley has just surprised him with a guitar. He’d love to play it, but they’re both busy with the phones.

“I know Walt, I know. I’m an abomination yada yada yada. But some djinns still feed off fear and not dreams, so you better get on that.”

He hangs up. When he turns around, Sam and Cas are looking at him and Crowley, who’s fielding a call from Jesse.

Sam takes the guitar from the table, runs his hand over it. “Dean, don’t get me wrong... but you realize this is all rather insane?”

“I don’t think I was ever going to have a normal life, Sammy. But this? I’ll tell you one thing, it ain’t bad.”

“At least it’s not the Apocalypse” Cas tries his best to stay optimistic.

Dean grins. “Yeah. I’d actually argue we’re pretty far from Paradise... but who cares?”

Crowley has finished his phone call and draws him close. “Not me, Squirrel. You can be sure of that.”

Dean laughs before leaning down to kiss his husband.

[paranoid-fighter]

Overwatch: Reyes - Chapter 9: Reyes makes a call | Jesse makes a call | Morrison receives a call

Oh, how quickly things can change...

Author’s Notes: 1) Well, at long last, it’s here. 2) This contains plenty of mentions of violence - warning you now 3) I cannot even tell you how long I’ve spent writing this chapter. I’ve lost track of the hours. 4) Please let me know what you think 5) Special thanks to @slunkymcgee, @t0asty-marshmall0w, @one-doesnt-simply-walk-in-bagend and @ceata88 for reading various sections for me

Word count: 12030-ish Copyright: Overwatch and its characters belong to Blizzard. Original characters belong to me. 

Gabriel Reyes stood before the polished black stone of the Widow's Wall and read over the names of those that had died while in service to him. The list was far, far longer than it should have been and, worst of all, he knew it... just as he knew that he was responsible for their deaths. He traced a finger over the etching of a mockingbird and let out a long, slow breath.

The Mockingbirds were dead. The Hellcats were dead. The Hounds were dead.

 They and countless others now marched under the banner of the Last Watch.

 He closed his eyes as he lowered his head, but he did not pray.

 Prayer no longer soothed his soul.

      He walked on.

Gabriel Reyes traced a familiar path through the empty hallways. They were the only thing that remained unchanged during his time as Commander. He never thought he would envy cinder blocks, but he found himself doing just that with each painful step that he took.

The years had not been kind to him. His thinning, greying hair was now hidden under the black knit cap that he refused to remove. His face was lined with wrinkles and scars. Every passing day made the bags under his eyes grow a little darker. Stress had eaten holes in both his stomach and his mind before it turned its attention to his aching joints.

It hurt to exist.

He tried to stave off the failings of his body, but he knew it was a lost cause. Nurse Lori and Nurse Sandy had given him everything they could in the hope that they could ease his pain, but they knew it wouldn't help in the long run. Every morning was greeted with a handful of medications that allowed him to function, but each night ended with the cold reality that he was beginning to live on borrowed time.

     He walked on. 

     Gabriel Reyes had beaten the odds and had done so for well over a decade. He had risen from the trenches and soared through the ranks until his shoulders carried enough stars to rival the night sky. Were he to wear his medals, he would not have to worry about a bullet-proof vest; nothing would be able to pierce his heavily decorated chest.

He hated each and every one of them.

The medals only brought him shame, but he stood proud each time the world leaders pinned another to his chest in the private ceremonies. He would return their salute before facing his soldiers as he fought to remain expressionless. He knew that the polished metal that hung from his jacket had been earned through the sweat, blood and tears of those who died. He wanted nothing more than to throw the ribbons into an incinerator, but, instead, he wore them proudly for all to see. His soldiers would cheer for him, applauding the victories that they and their fellows had won.

Reyes could not share in their joy. How could he? Each award came at the cost of a new name on the Widow's Wall...

  He walked on.

   Gabriel Reyes launched a counter attack for every mission that the puppet masters ordered. He had spent countless hours planning both the missions and his retaliations, all to ensure that there would not be any true victories for the puppet masters. His efforts had paid off. There had not been any true successes within the past five years. Instead, there were only slim victories. It infuriated the puppet masters. They demanded more from Reyes, more, more, always more. Reyes did what he could to appease his soul and commanders alike, but it had not been easy.

Nothing ever was.

With each new mission, he was forced to play God. He had to choose who would live and who would die. At first, it had been almost impossible to decide who would or would not return from the field.

But now?

Now Reyes knew why God had turned his back on the world...

   He walked on.

  Gabriel Reyes found himself clinging more and more to his only source of hope. He knew that his struggles were almost at their zenith. At the end of the week, he would release all the documents that he had amassed over the years and would damn the puppet masters straight to hell, without any hope of escape. He had worked tirelessly with Morrison to gather all the evidence of corruption within Overwatch and Blackwatch and had even allied himself with several of Nocte's associates that specialized in computerized espionage. At the end of the week, he would give the order for Giga and her army of hackers to unleash every single piece of evidence they had gathered. Thousands upon thousands of documents would be sent to every major news organization in the world, every government agency she had been able to infiltrate and to more websites than Reyes even knew existed.

He hoped it would be enough. 

He came to a stop in front of the door to the firing range. He hadn't passed a single soldier during his entire walk - the base was almost empty now. Most of the soldiers had been sent abroad for a variety of missions - all of which were coincidentally close to their native homes. The only soldiers who remained on base now were the ones who lived within the United States...

...and Jesse.

He pushed open the door and was greeted with the aroma of gunpowder, sweat and tobacco. He saw a blue haze hanging around Jesse and shook his head. He had given up on stopping him from smoking years ago. The only compromise that they had been able to come to was that Jesse now only smoked cigars instead of cigarettes.

Reyes leaned against the back wall as he watched Jesse fire round after round before reloading. Even to this day, Jesse with his beloved six-shooter was still the most accurate shot within Blackwatch and Overwatch alike - not counting the snipers. He smiled as he recalled the day, years ago, when a batch of greenhorns had accused Jesse of robbing them after they lost a marksmanship competition against the wanna-be cowboy. It felt like only yesterday that he had the baby-faced McCree sitting across from him, defending himself...

Where had the years gone?

That was a stupid question, he sighed as he rubbed a sore elbow. He knew exactly where the years had gone. For fuck's sake, each and every damn day left him with another ache in his body, another pain that wasn't dulled by medication.

 Reyes pulled himself from his self-pity when the rhythmic firing and reloading came to a halt. He raised his head and found himself staring into the bushy face of Jesse McCree - had he always been so tall? Had he just never noticed? "Boss?" Reyes blinked and shook his head before giving the soldier a smile. "I swear, mijo; every damn hair I've lost has found its way onto your face." He reached out and lightly tugged on McCree's beard. "When did this get so thick, anyway?" "I'unno." Jesse shrugged as he laughed. "Just born with it, I guess." Reyes shared in the laughter - it was too rare that he had the chance to laugh now. "Just confirms that your father must've been a dog. Especially after walking out on your mother." "I was just a snot-nosed kid at that point. Can't really hold it against him." "I can." "And you do." Jesse sighed in mock frustration. Reyes only smiled.  

"Any updates on anything?" Jesse asked as he and Reyes came to sit on the metal bench. "No. For once, I'm glad to not have any updates." He stared down at his hands. "Just a few more days. That's all we have left now. Just a few more days." "Yeah..." Jesse took the cigar from his mouth and blew a thick cloud of smoke into the air. "Y'all packed up, too?" "Yes. I'm living out of a suitcase at this point, but I don't care. I want to be ready to go the moment this gets started." "Same here." He returned the cigar to his mouth. "Hey, boss?" "Yes?" "Can I..." He swallowed. "Can I ask you something?" "Sure." "D'you think we're really gonna pull this off? I mean, it's been years. D'you think they've caught on?"

Reyes exhaled slowly as his eyes closed. His shoulders drooped forward, sagging under the weight of his sins. "I... I think they have." He massaged his left wrist. "But I don't think they've caught onto everything. I think we can still pull this off." Jesse nodded as he took a draw off of his cigar. "Can I ask something else?" "Yes." "Are you scared?"  

The commander glanced over to his soldier. "Do you have a spare cigar?" "Yeah." Jesse pulled a case out of his breast pocket - a habit he probably picked up from Nocte. "Want me to start it for you? Y'always did have a hard time with that." "Sure..." Reyes sank back against the wall, his eyes closing as Jesse trimmed the end off of the cigar. "Before I answer, I want to ask you the same. Are you scared?" "y-Yeah." Jesse's voice was small. "I am. I mean, hard not to be, y'know?" "I know." He watched as Jesse began to light the cigar. "I am too, mijo. I'm fucking terrified. I know we're good, but are we as good as we think we are?" He frowned as Jesse slowly rotated the cigar over his butane lighter. "You're supposed to use matches to get a better flavor." "Flavor my ass," Jesse grumbled, "ain't smokin' this shit for the flavor." He took a few long draws off of the cigar before handing it to Reyes. "And I doubt you are, too." Reyes only nodded as he brought the cigar to his mouth.

  He didn't speak until he had blown his own cloud of smoke into the air. "I've never been more scared of anything in my life, Jesse." He closed his eyes as his head came to rest against the wall. "But we're going to make it through - you and me. We're going to be fine." Reyes sighed and sat up straight as he held the cigar between his teeth. "I was going to hold off on this, but now's as good a time as any." He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and unfolded it, listening to the thick plastic as it crinkled. "Don't open it yet. Open it when we're both safe." "Boss?" Jesse took the vacuum-sealed package and stared down at it. "What is this?" "Adoption papers."

  Jesse's cigar nearly fell from his mouth. "w-What? Boss, what did you just say?" "They're adoption papers, Jesse." He met his soldier's gaze. "I've already filled out all the parts I needed to and got them notarized. When we're safe, open that up and fill out your parts and then mail it off." "I don't--" "Jesse, I've called you 'mijo' for long enough. It's time that I made it official." He took a long draw off of his cigar before blowing the smoke over his shoulder. "When we're safe, just fill it out, stick some stamps on there and put it in the mail. It'll go to a contact of mine and she'll get it processed." "Can't we do it now?" Jesse was still in disbelief as he stared at the envelope. "Please?" Reyes shook his head. "In case something goes wrong, I don't want any other links between you and me. I just want them to think you're a soldier of mine and that you didn't have any part of this." "Oh..." Jesse slowly tucked the envelope into his pocket. "That's fair." He slumped back against the wall next to his commander - his soon-to-be-legal father. "Been a crazy few years, hasn't it, boss?" "Yes, yes it has." Reyes smiled slightly. "Do you remember, years ago, the very first day you started your shots?" "Yeah; what of it?"

   Jesse found himself blinking in shock for the second time as he stared down at Reyes' phone. "Holy shit," Jesse breathed. "You've grown into a handsome man, Jesse Gabriel McCree." Reyes smiled as he looked between Jesse's actual face and the face in the photograph. "Look at me... I was just a baby," Jesse found himself laughing. "Look at those cheeks! Smooth as silk!" He looked to his commander. "You kept that picture for all those years?" "Of course." Reyes took his phone back and smiled. "A father has to have baby pictures, you know." "Gawd," he ran a hand down his face as his cheeks burned. "Y'ain't even my dad yet and you're already makin' me embarrassed." "Well, what else am I supposed to do?" Reyes laughed. "There's no way I could be the cool dad that every kid wants." "Just don't start with the dad jokes, or I'm out of here." "Hi, I'm out--" Reyes' laughter redoubled as Jesse groaned loudly...

    He and Jesse went their separate ways at the end of the night. They had slightly deviated from their tradition and had gotten burgers on a Monday night - Friday, they would be hightailing it to Mexico and were planning on eating trail rations while speeding to freedom. He sipped the last few dregs of his milkshake and walked into his bedroom. The door locked behind him as he stared around the small room. In just a few days, he'd be leaving this all behind - one way or another.

 He just hoped he would leave it of his own volition...

     Marigold Lawson's manicured fingers drummed against the table in both nervousness and impatience. She had less than forty minutes before she had to be back at work. The tight deadline frustrated her to no end, but what could she do? She had to return to Prime Minister Garret's office before anyone questioned her absence. She had been his aide for almost ten years now and no one had ever seen her return late from lunch. It would not do for her to show up late now.

She knew it would have been easier to do the meeting after hours. Ever since she had arranged it, she had been trying to convince Prime Minister Garret that it would be better to do at night, but he had told her to get it done as quickly as possible. Instead of calling out the man's idiocy, she only smiled and told him that it would be done.

It left her with a little over half an hour to meet with an internationally infamous assassin inside a closed restaurant and hire him.

Ms. Lawson's nails continued to rap on the table as her frustration outweighed her anxiety. For four years, she had lead a task force that monitored the activities of Blackwatch and Overwatch alike, all of which placed her under even more scrutiny from her fellows. Ever since the failed mission to assassinate Hanzo Shimada, Prime Ministers Garret, Ikanawa, Vittorio and several others had their concerns over the leadership of their armies. They had noticed an increasing amount of failures and causalities. The amounts were still within the acceptable limits, yes, but it was unusual, considering the nearly flawless years that came after the creation of Blackwatch and Overwatch.

In an effort to understand the ongoing trend of slim victories, they placed Marigold in charge of researching the actions of the armies and had given her both the tools and budget to fix their problems. Their only rules were that they couldn't know who she was talking to and that if her activities were exposed, all evidence of her work had to be destroyed. After all, it just wouldn't do to be linked to such shady activities...

 Marigold checked her watch. "He should have been here five minutes ago." "Traffic is a problem at this time of day," Andrew put a hand on her shoulder, "he'll show up. You've made him an offer he can't refuse." "I don't like that phrase," she huffed, "everyone can still refuse." "Well, in this case, I don't think he can." "It's true." Hiro nodded from his position by the door. "Taking this job should be a no-brainer for him. It's either this or life in solitary confinement - he'd be an idiot to not accept." "Regardless of what happens," Andrew looked down at the petite woman, "you found him and where he lives. He can't escape now." "Hush;" Hiro stood straight, "I hear footsteps."

  Marigold's heart hammered in her chest as she stared at the door. Three years of near-obsessive searching for the man named Nocte was about to come to fruition...

Special Agent Carson Scapine opened the door and ushered a tall, masked man into the room. He closed the door behind him as Special Agent Hiro Nobuya and Andrew Smith stood at strategic points in the room; Andrew stood at Marigold's back as Hiro stood in the far corner. Carson kept his place by the door as Nocte came to sit at the table across from Marigold. His white mask shone in the low light of the private dining room. "Hello, Nocte. It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person." She smiled up at the white mask. "Indeed." Nocte's voice was flat. "I must commend you for the effort that you put into finding me. I have not seen such determination and dedication in quite a long time." He placed his gloved hands on the table. "What your technique lacked in elegance, you more than made up for in brute force." Marigold hid her annoyance. She knew this was going to be a difficult meeting. "Sometimes, brute force is the only solution." "Indeed," came the monotone response. Marigold refused to let her smile waver. "I would like to hire you, Nocte. I represent several men and women who want someone--" "Dead. Yes, I am aware. Why else would you go to such lengths to find me?" He tilted his head as he looked to her. "Unless, of course, you wanted to ask me for a date." He gestured to the dining room. "If that is the case, I am afraid I must decline and will file for a restraining order. You are clearly a stalker." He paused as he mulled over his words. "However, I am willing to reconsider your offer for a date if you bring me some wine. I feel that I might need it to settle my nerves." His cheeky smile was audible. "After all, it is hardly fair for you to expect me to perform in front of both your lovely self and these three handsome men." "Enough of this!" She snapped. "Nocte, I want to employ your services."

  Nocte was nonplussed; this wasn't anything he hadn't done before. "I would very much like a glass of wine." "What?" She blinked. "Wine. I would like wine. It will make this conversation much more pleasant." "Nocte, pleas--" "I will not talk unless I have a glass of wine." He sat back in his chair. Marigold sighed. "Someone go and get wine. Please." "A bottle, actually," Nocte piped up, "and several glasses." "Please bring what he asked for." She refrained from rubbing her temples. She didn't have much longer until she had to be back at her desk and she didn't want to waste precious minutes arguing with the assassin. Special Agent Carson hesitated but slowly stepped out of the room...

   Nocte did not react as a glass of red wine was placed in front of him, nor did he react when the bottle and a second glass was placed in front of the woman. He picked up the glass and stared at it, amused by at how thin it was - it wouldn't take much effort to shatter it. "Thank you," he said as he placed the glass back on the table. "I will let this breathe for a moment before I try it." He met the woman's gaze. "Now that I have my wine, we can discuss business. Who is it that you want dead?" "Do you know someone by the last name of Reyes? He's a rather powerful man." "Reyes is a very common surname. I am sure there are several powerful men with that last name." "Indeed," she poured herself a glass of wine even though she had no intention of drinking it, "but this particular Reyes has been in a military position for many years now." "A military man with the last name of Reyes? That is doing nothing to jog my memory - you would be better asking me about the number of stamens in a rose." "And how many are there?" "That depends on the type of rose." Another audible smile.

  Marigold, despite herself, laughed. "Alright, alright. I see your point. I'll cut to the chase, then. The men and women who have sent me to you want a man named Gabriel Reyes dead. He is the commander of Blackwatch - have you heard of Blackwatch?" "Do you know how many stamens are in a primrose?" He turned his attention back to the wine glass. She frowned - surely he knew of Blackwatch. How could he be in that line of work and not know...? "It is the counterpoint to Overwatch, if you will. They handle the things that Jack Morrison and his soldiers cannot." "And why is that?"

  Her cellphone buzzed momentarily in her pocket – there were twenty five minutes left until she had to leave.

  "Morrison cannot be seen carrying out assassinations or sabotage missions." "How is that different than what Overwatch does already? Are not all missions assassinations or sabotages, but at a larger scale?" "This is different, Nocte." "I fail to see how. A rose by any other name, you know." He picked up his wine and swirled it around the glass. She bit her tongue but refused to show her emotions. "Please trust me when I say that they are different." "You are asking me for trust? That is a bit much to ask, but alright." He placed the glass down. "I am not here to discuss trust with you." He raised his masked face. "I must ask, though; why are you wanting Reyes dead? Why not Morrison? He is the more influential one, it seems." "Between him and Reyes, he really isn't; he's a figure head. Killing him would cause more problems than it would solve. The public would demand action - they like their hero." She frowned. "Fair enough," he nodded, taking a moment to think. "So, you want the leader of Blackwatch dead, yes? That will be a difficult task. I hope you are willing to compensate me for this." "I am, indeed." She pulled a slip of paper out of her breast pocket and placed it down on the table. "You will find my offer on that. It is a generous amount, I know, but we want this to be done as quickly as possible. Preferably by the end of the week, if not sooner than that." She slid the paper towards Nocte.

  Another buzz; twenty minutes.

  Nocte picked up the scrap of paper and stared at it before placing it back down on the table. He picked up the glass of wine and brought it to his mask, tilting it so that the red wine just barely touched the white surface. He held it there before placing the full glass down. "This is a delicious white wine. Truly. It must have come from a well renowned vineyard." "Is this a joke?" She asked with a faint frown. "No." He picked up the scrap of paper and crumpled it into a ball. "The only joke here is your proposed pay. I hardly get out of bed for this amount." He tossed the wad of paper to the side and, in his anger, knocked over his glass. It fell to the hardwood floor and cracked along the side of the bowl - just as he expected. Nocte leaned down and picked up the broken stem and the larger shards of the bowl. He placed it on the table, just a hair out of arm's reach. "My apologies, but my point remains. Your offer is unsatisfactory, just like the wine." "I see." She forced her smile back into place. "I will double it, then." She noticed that her agents were now standing a little straighter, a little more on edge; Carson stepped closer to Nocte, stopping only feet from him. She forced herself to remain calm and gave Nocte her full attention as he spoke. "That is still not enough. You are asking me to take down the leader of a military force that carries out assassinations. This will not be an easy mission and it will take time - time that you are not granting me. I expected to be compensated appropriately." He placed his hands on the table. "Good work is expensive. Good work done quickly is even more expensive." "Then what would you recommend?" "Triple it." His voice grew firm. "And offer me a favor that I can redeem at an unspecified point in the future." "If I refuse?" "Then I will leave this room." "I am afraid I cannot allow that, Nocte." Her tone grew colder. "I think you underestimate the intentions of the men and women I represent--" "I beg to differ. I think I understand quite clearly." "--they want you to kill Gabriel Reyes. He is a threat and you are one of the best to eliminate threats like this. I know your modus operandii - you specialize in removing terrorists and Reyes is one of the most dangerous terrorists in the world."

  Another buzz. Fifteen minutes.

  She continued.

  "What's more, we know exactly who you are, Nocte... or should I use your real name?" Her smile grew darker. "We know all of your bank accounts, all of your home addresses and who you work for. If you do not do this, then I will have to take matters into my own hands." She placed her elbows on the table as her chin came to rest on her laced fingers. "You like your freedom, do you not? All the wealth you have amassed? If you refuse this, you can kiss all of that goodbye." "I see." Nocte frowned. "Fine, then. I will do it - but the pay must be tripled." "No. Doubled is the highest I will go." "Then you must guarantee my freedom after this is completed." "I will." "Wonderful." He smiled as he stood up; his voice was suddenly as cheery as a sunny day. "Let us shake on this." "What?" "I would like to shake your hand to seal the deal. Once that is done, we can discuss how the payment will be made." Marigold hesitated for a moment but slowly stood. She extended her hand to Nocte's and gave a slight smile as his fingers closed around hers while she stared at her own reflection in his mask.

 She didn't notice that his left hand was now touching the broken stem.

 In one swift motion, he pulled her forward, over the table, as his other hand rose--

   Marigold screamed as the glass pierced her eye. Nocte shoved her away. She landed heavily against Andrew as Hiro and Carson drew their guns. Andrew caught her and guided her to the ground. He did his best to keep her hands away from the glass. He knew pulling that it free would only make it worse... but that didn't stop him from wanting to do the same.

 Nocte grabbed the bottle of wine and quickly turned as the two agents trained their guns on him. He kicked his chair into Carson's stomach before jumping to the side. He barely landed before lunging forward as his grip tightened on the neck of the bottle. In one upward swing, he shattered the bottle against Carson's temple. He held onto Carson's now-limp body with one hand and pulled the gun from his grasp with his other.

Using Carson's dead body as a shield, he fired a volley of shots at the agent.

 Hiro faltered as two bullets struck his vest and shoulder; the first bullet lodged itself in the wall behind him. He raised his gun again as Andrew stood up. Before Andrew could fire, Marigold's bloodied hands grabbed his leg. Her screaming was louder and more disoriented as blood and ichor dripped freely from the now-empty socket. He stumbled, his gun lowering, as Nocte fired a fourth shot.

 Both Hiro and Carson fell to the ground in heap of deadweight as Nocte turned and stared at Andrew.

 Andrew raised his gun--

 Nocte squeezed the trigger.

  Marigold's screaming grew fainter as shock claimed her. She saw Andrew fall to the ground. She forced herself to roll over and crawled toward his body as she blindly searched for his gun.

 Her fingers wrapped around the grip.

 She rolled onto her back as she brought the gun u--

 Her body twitched from the impact of the bullet before falling still.

  Nocte placed the smoking gun on the table. The assassin knelt down beside Marigold and quickly searched her body. He took her phone and then the pocket book from beside her chair. He tucked the phone into the purse as he made his way over to the dead agents. He took their wallets, badges and phones, stuffing them into the now purse as he went. He tucked the bag under his arm left the room without as much as a backward glance.  

  He ran through the empty restaurant and through the kitchens as he made his way to the employee entrance. He didn't even stop as he grabbed an apple off of the counter. His gloved hands unlocked the heavy door and pushed it open.

 By the time the door closed, he was already in his car.

   The assassin removed his mask and gloves as he started the engine. Instead of peeling out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires, he calmly drove towards the main road. One hand held the wheel as the other pulled out his phone. Without looking, he tapped out a number and brought the phone to his ear. "Praise be to the Son of Atilius." Said a feminine voice. "Long may he live." Nocte intoned. "What can I do for you, Nocte?" Giga asked. "I need you to tell me that I am wrong." "If I can, mi'lord." "Marigold Lawson, the woman that wanted to hire me. She worked for a Prime Minister, yes?" "Yes. That is what my research showed. She worked for Prime Minister Garret - one of the founders of Overwatch and Blackwatch." "Shit." "What happened? Was the meeting as bad as you were expecting?" "It was worse." "What--" "She is dead, as are her three men." His car inched forward. "I need to call Reyes. I suggest you get your team ready. I think the timeline is about to change." "Understood. I will be on standby until I receive a call from either you or Reyes. Good luck, Nocte." "The same to you." He ended the call and dialed another number...

     "How many stamens in a primrose?" "Equal to or twice as many petals." Nocte said as he made his way through the dwindling lunch hour traffic. "Reyes, we have a problem." "What?" His heart began to race as he sat up. "What happened?" "Someone just tried to hire me to kill you." "What?" He surged to his feet, alarming the cowboy that sat nearby. "Nocte, explain." "A woman by the name of Marigold Lawson and her three agents met with me. She was an aide to Prime Minister Garret - does that name ring any bells?" "Yes--was? What do you mean, 'was?' Nocte, what did you do?" "What's goin' on, boss?" Reyes waved a hand at Jesse as Nocte spoke. "She is dead, as are her three agents." He pulled off the main road and began driving down a side street. "I highly suggest you give the order to Giga now. Get the documents out there and get yourself to safety. Once they find out that she is dead, this will probably grow worse before they ever grow better." "Why did you kill her?" He fought to keep his voice from growing any louder. "Why did--" "We do not have time for this!" Nocte snapped. "I did what I had to do to keep both of us safe. Now call Giga! Tell her that it is time and then get you and your pretty little cowboy out of the country." "What of Jack?" "Tell him to run, too." Nocte rolled down the window as he saw the stagnant river. He pulled a phone out of Marigold's purse and threw it into the slimy water. "I have to call him," Reyes began to pace. "Nocte, I will call you back soon. I have to go." "I will await your call." The assassin ended the call. He placed the phone on his lap as he picked up the apple. He bit into the crisp flesh as he drove back to the main road...

“Boss, what's happenin'?" Jesse was staring up to his commander. He didn't like the tremble in his voice. "The plan changed. Drastically." Reyes dialed Jack's number as he paced. "Stay here with me. I'll explain in a moment."

  "From Peru to Cebu," Jack said as he scrawled his name over another piece of paper. "Hear the power of Babylon." Reyes felt his heart hammering against his ribcage. "We have a problem." "What's going on?" "Nocte just told me that someone tried to get him to kill me. He thinks we're about to be found out." "Fuck." Jack stared at the papers in front of him; he had been writing pardons almost nonstop for all the men and women he wanted to spare from the shit storm he and Reyes were about to create. "Gabe, we need more time!" "We don't have it. If Nocte thinks that this is about to go south, then I'm inclined to believe him." He did not look to Jesse; he couldn't stand to see the fear in his eyes. "Get your things and get ready to move. I'm going to be calling Giga soon."  "I can't yet! I still have--" "What could be so important that you can't leave?!" "I just need a day. One day. One day." His words were rushed. "Just give me one day." "Twelve hours." "No. I need a day." "I don't think we have it, Jack!" Reyes snarled. "Get ready to leave!" His pacing came to a halt. "I have to call Giga. I'll call you back soon." Jack ended the call without another word.

   As Reyes made to dial a number, Jesse grabbed his arm. "Boss, what the fuck's goin' on? Who did Nocte kill? Why do we need Giga?" He let go of Reyes' arm and stared up into his dark eyes. "If you're this worried, let's just get in the car and go now. Fuck it all; leave it all behind. We need to go." "I can't leave yet. I have a few things I have to take care of." "Then do it and let's go!" "I have to get Jack to go with us." Reyes' voice was distracted as he resumed pacing. "He's not going to leave. I know him. He won't leave. I'll have to drag him out of there." "Why are you even concerned about him? It's not like--" He paused and stared at Reyes as his eyes widened. "Boss, are you serious--no, you are serious. You're still with him, aren't you? Even after--" "So what?" Reyes snapped before taking a deep breath. "Yes, I am still with him. I love him, Jesse. He and I have fought through too much together at this point to throw it away. If I'm going to safety, he's coming with me." "But..." Jesse found himself staring at his shoes. "But Gabe, what about me--" Gabe closed the distance between them and hugged the soldier to his chest. "You are my son. You have always been and you will always be. He is my lover. I love you both, but in different ways." He held Jesse's arms and stepped back as he met his gaze. "Jesse, nothing will ever replace you in my eyes. You are the most important thing in my life." "Then let's go," he whispered, "please. Let's just go now. We can be safe. We can escape. We have time." "...Give me two hours," he hugged Jesse back to his chest. "Two hours, then we'll go..."

   Jesse left Reyes' side to finish packing as Reyes sat within the empty firing range. He made a series of calls, starting with Giga. He ordered her and her soldiers to remain ready - the moment he landed in Zurich, he would give the order to release the documents. Next, he called Echo and told him to arrive on base. Echo, in an unusual display of professionalism, agreed and ended the call, sparing Reyes from twenty minutes of incessant nattering. Satisfied, Reyes called Sonar and requested that he and his partner fly him to Zurich. Sonar said he would only need an hour to rouse Radar and to fuel the plane in preparation for their trip. He thanked the commander for allowing him to keep the Crimson Angel within the Overwatch hangar; it made last minute requests much easier to accommodate.

Reyes placed one final call as he lit a cigarette...

  "Nocte, I need a favor." "What do you need?" "I... I need you to watch over Jesse for me. Not every day, not frequently, but just," he sighed, "just check in on him from time to time, alright?" "Why?" "I have a very bad feeling about this." "About what?" Nocte frowned as he sped down the highway. "What are you doing? Or, rather, what are you going to do?" "I'm flying to Zurich soon - without Jesse." "For Jack?" "Yeah," he blew a cloud of smoke over his shoulder, "he won't leave the base. I know he won't." "So you are going to go there?" "Yeah." "Reyes, this is not a good idea. Why are you doing this?" "Because I love him." "Do you love him enough to die for him?" "I..." his voice faltered as he stared down the range. "Yes. I do." “Are you sure?” “Yes.” "And what of Jesse?" "I love him more than anything else in this world, Nocte, but..." Reyes took a long draw off of the cigarette. "I'm not always going to be there for him. He needs to realize that. He's a grown man; he'll be okay if I'm not there." "Who are you trying to convince?" Nocte's voice held his frown. "...myself." "You do not have to go to Zurich. I am sure there is another agent there that I could call upon that can go there for you." "He won't listen to anyone else. I know he won't." "But he will listen to you?" "Probably not, but I'm prepared to pull him out of there." Nocte's left hand was resting in his lap, his thumb idly stroking his and his late husband's wedding bands. "Is he worth your life, Gabriel? Is he worth the risk?" "He is." His voice was resolute. "Then I will not question you further. I understand." Nocte's voice grew melancholic. "You under--?" "We were married for forty three years, five months and two weeks," Nocte smiled sadly. "He passed twenty-one years ago this December. I would still give my life for him without a second thought. I understand why you are doing this, Reyes. I will keep watch over Jesse." "I can't pay you." "It does not matter." "Thank you..." Reyes snubbed out the cigarette. "Nocte, can I ask a question?" "Yes."

  "...how old--no.” He thought for a moment. “What are you?" "Do you really want to know?" Reyes frowned; the man's voice made his skin crawl. "...No. No, I don't." Nocte laughed. "Is there anything else that you want to ask?" "Why did you kill her?" "Because she knew too much. Or, rather, I did not want to risk her words being true. She had found me and that in of itself is worrying. I could not risk it. And as good of a friend as you are, I must protect myself, too." Reyes couldn't fault him for that; he stood up and began to pace. "I need to go and pack. Sonar and Radar are going to fly me to Zurich; Echo will take Jesse to the safe house. Once I have Jack with me, we'll fly out and go to the safe house, too. Will you meet us there?" "Not immediately. I am needed overseas, but I will return as soon as I can." "Alright." He bit his lip as his pacing came to a halt; once he ended the call, everything was going to start... "Good luck, Nocte. And thank you - for everything." "Good luck, Gabriel. We will see each other again."  

Gabe listened to the silent phone for longer than he cared to admit...

   With his bags packed and a poorly knitted blue hat shoved deep into his pocket, Gabriel Reyes stood in his office with an intercom microphone in his hand. Beside him stood Mrs. Ramanaja, a cup of tea in one hand and her unlit cigarette in the other. Their eyes met. She gave him a solemn nod and he turned on the microphone. "Good afternoon everyone; this is your Commander speaking." Reyes' voice was oddly chipper. "I want to start off by saying that serving as your Commander has been the highlight of my life and has given me years' worth of memories that I will never forget. Each and every one of you is a hero - never forget that." The soldiers that still resided within the halls fell still as they listened to their Commander. "It saddens me to say that this is the last day that you will serve for Blackwatch. I am disbanding this army. Your brethren in other countries will be receiving a recording of this message, to let them know what is happening. Each and every one of you is being honorably discharged from service and will be receiving a bonus as a sign of my personal thanks." Mrs. Ramanaja sipped her tea as she watched Reyes give his final orders. "For those that remain within this base, you will need to leave within the next twelve hours. After twelve hours, this base will be nothing but smoking concrete and warped metal. You will receive your full explanation as to why this is happening tomorrow - it will be all over the news, world-wide." He let out a slow breath. "So, soldiers, the remaining vehicles on base now belong to you. Put aside your differences and help each other return home." He smiled faintly. "What you do after you leave is up to you, but just remember: you have to raise hell if you want to get to heaven. And if you're going to raise hell..." "Raise it well!" The soldiers' voices echoed through the concrete halls. Reyes dismissed his soldiers and silenced the microphone as he heard the whooping cries of his soldiers.

  "Nicely said, Commander," she said as she placed her empty tea cup on his desk. "You have done more for them than anyone else would have." "They've earned it. It's not their fault they were forced to play in this farce." "Indeed." She placed her unlit cigarette between her ruby lips. "You have done your duty; it's time for me to do mine." "Will you need any assistance?" "No. The base is not overly large; I have plenty of thermite and other explosives on hand. I will make it look like we were victims of an air strike." "Good, good." Reyes stared down at his desk, a bittersweet smile on his face. "So many memories, so many years..." "You are doing the right thing." She placed a hand on his arm. "Go save the world, Gabriel. I will take care of what remains." "Thank you, Sangita," he smiled as she hugged him. "It has been a pleasure working with you." "The pleasure is mine." She returned his smile before he walked to the door. "Gabriel?" "Yes?" "Remember: two parts water, one part full-fat milk, good quality black tea leaves, cardamom, cinnamon, ginger and fennel. Boil the milk, water and spices. Reduce it to a simmer. Steep the tea for three minutes, strain and then add sugar to taste... and if I hear that you are using tea bags again, I will be forced to find you and punish you for your poor judgement." He laughed and nodded. "I'll keep that in mind." His smile grew fond. "Goodbye, Sangita." "Goodbye, Gabriel." She pulled a lighter out of her pocket and, for the first time since joining Blackwatch, lit her cigarette. Clamping it between her teeth, she went to work...

    Jesse frowned as he stood on the small airstrip. Echo was nearby, leaning against his car and whistling a jaunty tune. Only yards away was the Crimson Angel and her pilots; he could hear the pair bantering as they did their final checks. He knew why the pilots were there, but why was Echo? Reyes had told him they would be flying...

 He waved to Reyes as the man came jogging up to him. He watched as Reyes placed his bags in the trunk of Echo's car before walking up to him. Jesse shouldered his bags as he looked up to his commander. "Why's Echo here?" "You're going to go with him." "What?" He blinked; his face began to pale. "Boss, no. You're comin' with me, right?" "No, Jesse. Not this time. Not now, at least. I'll meet you at the safe house later." "Boss, no. No!" He stepped closer to Reyes. "No. Just come with me. Please. We can go; we can escape!" "I can't, Jesse," Reyes whispered as he pulled Jesse into a hug. "I can't leave him behind. He's fought just as hard as we have; he deserves his freedom, too." "Then let him get it himself! You don't have to go and get him." Jesse's arms wrapped around Gabe's waist, all but squeezing him in half. "Please, let's just go. Now. We can still be free..." His voice was shaking, filled with unshed tears.

  Reyes bit his lip as he stared up to the heavens. He wanted nothing more than to get in the plane with Jesse and fly away from all of this, but he couldn't. He knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to Jack now, just as he knew he wouldn't be able to stomach anything happening to Jesse...

  Reyes pressed a kiss onto Jesse's forehead as he hugged him. "Mijo, I could not love you any more than I already do, not even if you were my own flesh and blood. I do not want to do this, but I have to. I hope and pray you understand." He pushed Jesse away, holding him at arm’s length as he met his gaze. "I will see you again soon. For now, though, we have to go our separate ways. I have to go and get Jack." He squeezed Jesse's arms. "Get in the car with Echo. He'll take you to safety. I'll meet you at the safe house. Once there, we’ll all live the life we've earned." "No!" Jesse shook his head as his hands grasped Gabe's arms. "No! I won't. I won't get in the car; I won't go without you. I need you!" Reyes shook his head. "Get in the car, mijo." "No." The commander let out a long, shuddering breath. "Mijo, do not make me do this. Get in the car." "I won't!"

  Reyes drew his gun.

  “Boss?" "Get in the car, Jesse." He raised the shotgun. Jesse began to tremble but he did not move. "I won't." Reyes pulled back the hammer. "Now." "No." A shot was fired at his feet. Concrete scattered over his boots.

  Jesse stared at Reyes, betrayal in his eyes, as the gun was leveled at his chest. He held the stony gaze for a moment before taking a step back, followed by another...

  Reyes watched as Jesse climbed into the back seat. He did not holster his weapon until the car was out of sight.

  With a heavy heart, Reyes boarded the plane....

       He returned the phone to his pocket. Giga had just received her orders. She would begin her mission. He stared up at the Overwatch headquarters. The statue of Jack Morrison loomed over him, a testament to what the world thought they stood for.

He squared his shoulders and marched forward.

Jehová es mi pastor; nada me faltará.

 He walked through the first checkpoint.

 En lugares de delicados pastos me hará descansar; junto a aguas de reposo me pastoreará.

 Guards saluted him as he passed through the second checkpoint.

Confortará mi alma; me guiará por sendas de justicia por amor de su nombre. 

The main gates were only feet away.

Aunque ande en valle de sombra de muerte, no temeré mal alguno, porque tú estarás conmigo; tu vara y tu cayado me infundirán aliento...

He pushed open the doors and walked inside...

   Reyes paused as a hand came to rest on his shoulder. Turning his head, he found himself staring down at Ana. "Gabe? Why are you here?" He ignored her question. "Where is Jack?" "He's in his office." "Thank you." He let out a slow breath as he met her gaze. "You need to leave the base. Take everyone that you can with you. Get out. Now. Get to safety." "What?" "Just trust me, Ana. Leave. Things are about to get bad." "Reyes, I--" "I don't have time to explain; just get your things and go." He brushed her hand off as he made his way to Jack's office. She frowned at his departing back...

   Jack raised his head as the door to his office was thrown open. His wide, panicked eyes met Reyes' as he signed another pardon. "Reyes--" "Grab your shit, Jack. Now. We're leaving." "I need--" "Fuck what you need; I need you to leave." "What the--" "Giga's gone to work. The first sites will be getting hit any second now. We don't have any more time, Jack. This is happening. We've done all that we can. It's time for us to go." "But--" He floundered as he stared around the office. "I'm not ready." "Neither am I, but we don't have a choice anymore. We set this into motion and now it's time for us to see it through." He came to stand beside his lover's chair. "Come on. Sonar and Radar are waiting for us." Jack slowly placed his pen down and stood up. "We're doing this?" "Yes." He stared down at his desk and bit his lip. "Reyes, did we do the right thing?" "We did." Reyes nodded and took Jack's hand. "Come on; let's go. We've earned our freedom."

  Jack stared at him for a moment before closing his fingers around Gabe's. He knelt down and picked up his pack. Shouldering it, he followed Reyes out of his office...

   Little did they know that there were others who had set their own plans into motion...

  Prime Minister Garret returned his phone to the desk as he looked to Prime Minister Vittorio. "It's done," he said calmly. "He will not be a problem anymore." "Wonderful." He sipped a glass of wine as he looked out of Garret's window and admired the bay far below. "It is messy, but, as you said, he will no longer be a problem." "Indeed." Garret poured himself two fingers of scotch. "Now we don't have to worry about what Jack does or doesn't know." He stared sadly into the glass. "To you, Marigold. You are missed." "To Marigold," Vittorio echoed as he touched his glass to Garret's. "If we had known Jack had ties with him, we never would have sent you to meet with him..." 

The two men fell into morose silence as they stared at the waves.

   Jesse sulked in the back seat of Echo's car as the man drove them to Mexico. Echo had been his usual chatty self as he drove; occasionally he would fall silent, giving Jesse a few minutes of both blessed and damned silenced. Jesse wanted nothing more than to escape his thoughts, but there he had no way to escape. He tried meditating, he tried reading. Hell, he even tried talking to Echo!

In the end, though, he could not find a way to escape the turmoil within his head.

Reyes was thousands of miles away, risking his life for Jack Morrison. He still hadn't forgiven Jack for shoving Reyes after his surgery all those years ago and he never planned to do so, either. He wasn't sure why Reyes had forgiven him - or if he had even forgiven him. With a sigh, he slumped down in his seat as he crossed his arms over his chest. This isn't what he wanted at all; he wanted Reyes with him. Even if Reyes couldn't do anything, it'd still be good to have him here...

Jesse's frown grew deeper as the music was interrupted by an emergency warning tone. His heart began to race as a robotic voice droned over the speakers.

There had been a terrorist attack.

On the Overwatch headquarters.

The number of casualties was currently unknown.

Jesse scrambled for his phone. He hastily dialed Reyes' number.

Each ring was a missed heartbeat. Each moment of silence stole his breath away.

  He called again.

 And again.

 And again...

  The robotic voice interrupted the music again. It confirmed that the base had been populated during the attack and that the amount of casualties was rising as rescue workers began to excavate the base.

  Jesse scrambled for his phone as it began to ring. He brought it to his ear and felt his world growing dark as he heard Sonar's shaking voice. He and Radar had not been able to find Reyes or Jack. They were still digging through the rubble, but they hadn't found them yet. "We'll keep looking," Sonar assured Jesse. "We'll keep you posted." "Thank you." Jesse whispered as tears began to slide unchecked down his cheeks...

      Jack blinked the dust out of his eyes as he stared into the darkness. He could barely breathe. He coughed, dust and debris tumbling from his mouth. Slowly, very slowly, he flexed his toes and fingers. Relief coursed through his body as he felt them moving. He looked around, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, as he tried to see what was pinning him down.

Cold panic flooded him as he realized what was on his chest.

"Reyes?" He nudged the man's body. "Reyes, talk to me." Silence. "Gabe?!" He shook him. "Say something!"

  A low groan met his ears.

  "Stay with me, Gabe," he whispered as he rubbed Reyes' arms, "just keep breathing. We'll get out of this. I promise." He kept rubbing his arms, trying to keep him awake. "Oh, god, please just keep breathing..."

   He lost track of the hours.

   Jack shouted for help when he had the strength. Other times, he would shake Reyes as best he could, forcing the man to wake up. He could feel Reyes' heart beating slowly against his chest and felt his own heart stopping each time Gabe's stuttered. He barely even noticed the pain of his own body as he clung to his best friend and lover. 

In the long, empty seconds, Jack apologized.

He apologized again and again and again. His tears trickled down his face as he hugged Reyes. They were trapped, crushed under the weight of steel, concrete and their own sins. Reyes had caught the worst of the explosion and oh, what Jack wouldn't have given for them to switch places... "I should've listened," he whispered, "I just should've listened to you. Gabe, you gotta pull through for me. Please. Just keep breathing. Just hold on a little longer. They'll find us, Gabe, and they'll fix us up. I know they will. You'll see." He squeezed Reyes' arms, his ears straining for the sound of Gabe's breathing. "Just keep breathing..."

  A sliver of moonlight almost blinded him.

  Blinking, Jack raised his eyes to the light above. He felt his pulse quickening as he heard voices. Clearing his throat, he shouted for help.

 And again.

 And again.

 He didn't know if they had heard him. He couldn’t tell if his voice had penetrated through the rubble.

He fell into despair as the world grew silent again.

 "C'mon, Gabe, wake up," his voice was hoarse. "Keep breathing. I think they found us. I think we'll be safe soon. We'll go home soon. You, me and Jesse. We'll all go home soon. We'll all be safe." He kept his eyes on the moonlight. They had to come back.

 ...they had to...

    Jack awoke in the back of a car.

He placed a hand on his head as he tried to push himself up - only to fall back onto the seat a moment later. "Stay down." A familiar voice whispered. "Stay down and don't move." "Ana?" He frowned as he forced himself to think, despite the clouds within his head. "Ana, what happened? Where's Gabe?" "Gabe is with Angela," her tone was grim. "I couldn't bring him with us." "Why not?" "He's in too rough a shape to transport." She glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "He took far more damage than you." "I know." He pulled the heavy blanket off of his body and frowned as he stared at the makeshift casts. "I broke my legs?" "And more, but we didn't have time to patch you up fully. I don't know if you're aware, but people want you dead, Jack. We did what we could to get you to safety before they killed you." "But what about Gabe? Where is he?!" "I don't know where Dr. Zeigler is, but she's taking care of him. Now lie down and try to rest. Don't make me sedate you again. We'll talk once we're safe." "I need to talk to her. I need a phone." His mind was racing. "I have to call Jesse." "No, Jack," she shook her head. "No. Just rest for now. When we get to safety, you can call..." "But--" "Hush. And put that blanket back over your body. You're supposed to be dead and if you get caught now, I'll kill you myself."

 He frowned but did as he was told...

    It was all her fault.

It was only a prototype. There hadn't been enough time to test it.

It was all her fault.

It was too late for Commander Gabriel Reyes. He lay motionless before her as the heart rate monitor screamed. His body was broken and bloodied. His eyes closed as he took his last breath.

It was all her fault.

It was hopeless. She placed her head in her hands as she sobbed. The sounds of her anguish were lost in the shrill cries of the monitors.

It was all her fault.

It was too late. The ward was dead.

It was all her fault...

     His eyes opened to a grey world.

He blinked slowly as he tried to focus his vision, tried to stare at a spot on the ceiling. The world never stilled. Everything around him was buffeted by a roaring wind that he could neither hear nor feel. He turned his head and found himself looking out into a crowded hospital ward. Beside each shrouded bed stood a mourner. Their cries were louder than any of the sounds of his surroundings. He watched as the distraught men and women clutched the hands of the bodies. Reyes pushed himself upright and frowned as he saw the vast expanse of sheet-covered bodies. There were well over two dozen beds shoved into the tiny room.

Reyes tore his eyes away as he cast aside his own blankets. He had to get out of bed. He had to hide. It wasn't safe here. He knew that people would be looking for him. Slowly, cautiously, he climbed out of bed...

...and frowned as he found himself standing upright without a single pain in his body. This couldn't be right; his spine had been crushed. How was he standing? Why didn't he feel pain?

The man standing next to Reyes' bed looked up to him. "Commander Reyes?" Gabriel slowly turned to face him. "Commander, what happened?" The soldier's face was bloodied. "Who attacked us?" "I... I don't know." He whispered. "Commander, what do we do? We have to protect ourselves. We have to protect our brethren." He stayed next to the bed, his hand on the shoulder of the covered body. "Help us, Commander. We need a leader." "I know." "We await your orders, Commander. Tell us what to do." "a-At ease, soldier." He forced his voice to remain level as he looked around the ward.

  The sobbing of the woman to his right caught his attention - it was impossible to ignore the sounds of a broken soul.

  She had pulled the sheet away from the body on the bed and was hugging the ragged corpse. "...just wake up..." she whispered.

 Gabe felt icy terror pierce his heart as he realized the women had the same face.

   He turned to the man on his left and grabbed the shroud. He threw it to the ground as he stared down at the body on the bed. It was a young man, fresh out of boot camp; his eyes were closed as he lay in the quiet repose of death. Gabe looked up to the standing soldier as his eyes widened in fear.

They were the same person.

He ran from bed to bed, pulling the shrouds away. He looked between the dead soldiers and the soldiers standing by the beds.

They were all the same.

 Reyes found himself standing near the infirmary door, facing the soldiers and their corpses. Their hollow eyes were staring expectantly at Reyes. "What are your orders?" The first soldier shakily asked; his hand never left the shoulder of his body. "Stay here." Reyes said with a resolve that he himself didn't feel. "I will take a look around and see what else I can find. Stand down, soldiers, and rest. I think we're through the worst of it." He returned their salutes before leaving the room.

  He tried not to notice that he had difficulty grasping the door knob.

 He ran through the halls, unnerved by the silence of his own footfalls. Despite all of his shouting, no one answered his calls. Soldiers would not look at him as he ran by. A pariah within the base, he could not catch the eye of any man or woman that he passed. Even when he shouted an order, no one acknowledged him.

  His frantic pace slowed as he neared the door to the doctors' break room. He had yet to find Angela or anyone who would tell him where she was - surely she would be here? Swallowing hard, he pushed open the door and strode inside...

  Her head was buried in her hands as her tears fell like rain. She was alone in the dark room, illuminated by the flickering lamps that had managed to survive the bombing. "Doctor Zeigler," he stood beside her. "Look at me." She wouldn't raise her head. "Doctor." More sobbing. "Angela!" He grabbed her shoulder--

A shiver ran through her body. Her head raised from her hands. She looked for the source of the sudden chill and shook her head a moment later.

 There was no one there.

 Reyes stepped back as he stared in horror at his own hand. It felt as if he had just burned himself and the ashen skin did nothing to assuage his thoughts. "Angela!" He shouted, standing only feet away. "Angela, look at me!"

Her sobs started anew...

  Reyes made his way back to the ward, his eyes downcast. He had left Angela's side when it was apparent she wouldn't look at him. He had tried to stop other soldiers within the halls, grabbing their arms or shoulders. No one reacted past a shudder. No one looked at him. No one saw him...

Reyes pushed open the door to the ward and found himself staring back at dozens of black eyes. "What are your orders, Commander?" "...Dismissed. All of you. Dismissed. Leave. Go home." "We can't." A woman hiccupped. "We can't leave. We swore our lives--" "Your lives are over!" He snapped.

  The room fell still as the soldiers stared at Reyes, their faces warping into expressions of shocked horror. "What?" "We can't be dead--" "--we're still here--" "--where will we--" "Silence!" He walked toward the first soldier that had spoken to him. "Look. That is your body. You are dead." He stared at his body in silence, slowly processing what Reyes had told him. He then looked to the empty bed beside him and then up to his Commander. "...where is your body?" The soldier asked. "You can see us, hear us. No one else that came in here could. They put the shrouds back on the beds, but they wouldn't talk to us. We talked to them, but they wouldn't respond..." He shook his head as he met Reyes' gaze again. "Where is your body, Commander Reyes?" "I..." Reyes frowned and shook his head. "No more questions. Leave. Now." "I can't." "Leave!" Reyes grabbed the soldier's arm--

--the soldier vanished without a sound.

Reyes stared down at his hand as a breath of fresh air filled his lungs--

  "You killed him!" A soldier screeched. “He's dead!" “Commander Reyes killed him!" "No!" Reyes shook his head as the soldiers began to gather around him. "No. He was already dead!" "You killed him!" "I didn't!" Reyes took a slow step backwards, followed by several faster ones as they came closer...

   Reyes screamed as soldier after soldier vanished from sight.

   He dropped to his knees as his body convulsed. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs and could feel warm air within his lungs. His hands had lost their pallor and he could feel the ground beneath him once again. His mind raced as he sat alone in the now-empty room. The soldiers dissipated as soon as they had tried to hurt him, had touched his bare flesh.

  He knew he should have felt remorse for the death of the soldiers, but instead, he could only revel in fact that he felt alive...

  He forced himself back to his feet and pushed his elation aside as he heard footsteps approaching. He couldn't risk being seen now. With a final check of his pockets, Reyes left the infirmary and made his way through the ruins of the base...

      Miles away, Jesse sat in the back of Echo's car as he stared out of the window. His tears fell steadily down his cheeks as he sat with his small phone in his hands. He hadn't been able to move ever since he received Sonar's last phone call. They had not been able to find Reyes, even after hours of searching. The pilot apologized to the shell-shocked soldier before ending the call. He and Radar couldn't stay any longer; they had to leave before the rescue workers discovered they weren't who they said they were.

  "Jesse?" Echo glanced to the rear view mirror. "What's the verdict?" "t-They couldn't find him," he whispered, "they couldn't find him." "Jesse..."   "He can't be dead. He can't be." "Jess--" "No. He's not dead. Boss always told me that you're alive until your body's dead and warm." He wiped away a tear. "So, he's not dead until they find a dead, warm body. He's not dead. He can't be." "Jesse, I--" "No!" He shook his head, biting his lip. "I know it. I know that he's not dead. I'd know it if he was." His hand touched his chest as he sniffled. "I'd know it, Echo."

  The driver said nothing; he had heard that line far too many times before and knew better than to argue. Instead, he fell back into his uncharacteristic silence as he drove. It'd be easier for everyone if he gave Jesse the chance to mourn...

   When night fell, Jesse found himself sitting alone in the safe house. Echo couldn't stay with him and, honestly, Jesse was glad for it. He wanted to be alone.

He needed to be alone.

He paced through the small home near the shore. He could hear the faint sound of the waves and the mournful cries of the gulls over the creaking of the floorboards. For the first time since joining Blackwatch, he felt lost. He had nothing now. He couldn't return to Deadlock and Blackwatch had been disbanded. What was he to do? Where was he to go? Reyes had told him that they'd spend time here by the shore, until the world calmed down, but Reyes wasn't here now.

His pacing came to a sudden end as he heard his phone ringing.

Jesse ran to the couch and grabbed his phone. His pulse raced as he saw Reyes' number flashing across the screen. "Boss!" He all but yelled into the receiver. "Boss, you're alive!" "Jesse!" Reyes heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, god, mijo; you're okay." He forced himself to keep running. "Are you at the safe house?" "Boss?" "Jesse? Jesse, can you hear me?!" His pace quickened. "Jesse, you should be at the safe house by now. Please, please just stay there. I'm coming. It'll be okay, mijo. It will. Just stay there. We'll figure this all out." His words all but spilled from his mouth, matching the frantic pace of his running. "Please, mijo. Just wait for me. I'll be there." "Gabe? Gabe, I can't hear you..." Jesse's voice grew thick with a new wave of tears. "Reyes, are you there?" "Jesse!" He all but screamed; his chest tightened. "Jesse, please, just listen. I'm here. I'm... I'm coming. I'm not okay, but I will be. I'll figure it out. I promise. Just wait for me, Jesse. I'll be there. We'll be okay, mijo. I promise." "Boss..." Jesse sank down onto the couch. "Boss, all I hear is static. Are you there?" "Mijo," his running slowed as he realized he could no longer hear the sounds of his boots crunching on the pavement. "Please, please listen. I'm here. I'm coming. I'll be there as soon as I can. Just wait for me!" "I can't hear you, Reyes. I... I can't hear you at all." Jesse bit his lip as his gaze grew distant. He wouldn't hang up, though. He couldn't force himself to end the call, even if all he heard was the sound of empty air, in hopes that he'd hear Reyes' voice...

   Reyes found himself standing still in the middle of the road, his phone held fast. He watched the cars passing by him but could not feel the air moving around him. He frowned as he realized that no one was shouting at him to get out of the road, nor were there any blaring horns.

It was as if he was invisible...

Reyes took a long, slow breath. "Wait for me, mijo," he whispered. "I'm coming home."

With a heavy heart, he ended the call.

  Jesse placed the phone down onto the couch as his body trembled. He bit his lip as he tried to stifle his tears, but it was to no avail. With a bleeding lip, he threw his head back and screamed his broken heart to the heavens...

[thistooshallpasslove]

An Angel Split in Two

Walking to the edge of the pier I saw you standing there. Had you been waiting for me this entire time? I let my hair fall in front of my eyes. I couldn’t stop twiddling my hands, and gripping the ends of my sleeves. The closer I got to you the more nervous I felt. Your presence always made me nervous, made my heart beat a little faster, made it harder to breathe. I couldn’t figure out way, except for now, just 24 hours ago you showed me exactly why I was so afraid of you. I stared at you, taking slower more defined steps towards you, counting the seconds it took for you to notice me. I watched how your body slanted, and leaned on the railing over the ocean. How you seemed to relax in the most dangerous position, flawless, unafraid. A bolt of admiration coursed through me, and I felt my eyes grow misty.

God I disgusted myself with all of the emotions I shouldn’t have at such a tragic time in my life. I tried holding my breath but that only made me more anxious. So instead I slowed my breathing with each step. Inhale, step, exhale, step. You stared at your feet, thoughtfully. I wondered if you were thinking of just the right words for me or if you were thinking of just the right words for the girl who just lost the love of her life which too, was me, but different nonetheless.

“Hey,” You spoke, with that usual tone to your voice. Husky and awkward. I wondered if I was dreaming, if everything that has happened in the past 24 hours is reality or if maybe I never really woke up. You didn’t look up when I approached you, you kind of just glided your eyes to my shoes instead of yours. Hands in your pockets. Still leaning on an old rickety rail over the ocean. The waves slamming against the pier behind you, just slightly splashing the walkway. Just enough to soak the bottom of our shoes.

“Hm.” I respond, unable to form a proper greeting. Too much has happened, I’m unsure if I’ll ever know how to speak again. You look up at me finally, but my eyes are on my fidgety hands. You notice my shiver. The way I bite my lip in frustration. It is hard to get my head around reality, like a wall is blocking my ability to see clearly and thoroughly through this mess. Had you known I was this vulnerable before, you would not have showed me anything yet.

Your hand went to mine, and my fidgeting stopped. My anxiety too. I could see your chin in my peripheral and I looked up after another 15 seconds of you staring at me. I have never seen eyes so beautiful in my entire life. “This is too much for you,” you said, your eyebrows came together slowly, worry melting away your usual blank face. I shrugged, “I’ll be fine, I always am.” You almost smirked,almost teased, but I saw it register through you, like you had a flashback of the good days, when you could joke...

I bit my lip, looking away from you and into the sea frustration running through me again. I moved out of your grip and stood beside you, facing the water. I have been to this place one to many times before. I was sure half of this ocean was made from only my tears and here I was again to feed it’s hunger for my sadness I supposed.

A sadness I wish I didn’t know. A fear I wish I didn’t have to overcome. A story I wished I’d never wished for. Which reminds me. I turned to you, you were looking ahead as well, towards the other side of the pier, i could see your back from here, but the wings were no longer there.

I reached out to you, touching your shoulder, I spoke, “Gabriel.”

You didn’t respond, in fact you pulled away from me. “Don’t call me that here!” You nearly hissed. I couldn’t believe it as it left my lips, but even less when it entered your ears. Your reaction was so perfect, so exactly as I imagined you would be if I should have ever known it was you. If I would have ever known you were Gabriel.

“Why couldn’t you tell me?” I asked, arm still outstretched. You turned to me and gripped my wrist. You pulled me to you, and laid my hand flat against your chest where your heart was beating fast. Were you panicked? I felt my face mold into confusion. “What’s wrong?” 

“A lot entails with being one half of a whole, and in love with a monster.” You spit. Like daggers thrown in each of my lungs, i’m breathless. Stabbed. Fuck, your aim was spot on. Again, I am ready to throw myself over the edge of this pier. I pull my hand away swiftly, and grip the rusted metal. The railing shaking under my hold. You grab my shoulders, pulling me from the edge, “Wait, I’m sorry, that’s... That is absolutely not what I meant. It came out in the worst way. I just get so frustrated with your blindness” I tried to focus on your reassurance, but the ending of all of this was right in my palm. I could just jump. Like he did. “You said it, you’ve said it plenty of fucking times before, in plenty of fucking ways.” You were silent for far too long. I looked at you. You were trying to think of a way for me to understand the slip of your tongue. The honesty behind each word. You needed a way to make it, unreal.

What you never seemed to understand is, every single, little, fucking thing you said, and say, stays with me like a leach draining my ability to overcome and move on. Now that I know you are one half of a whole Gabriel?

Gabe.

My Gabriel? Now that I know that after all this time I was in love with my Guardian Angel. Now that I know that the half that I loved is gone, forever. Every word you say, is no longer a grain of sand, but an endless letter from a lost part of my soul, a letter with clues of how to feel alive again.

So yes it hurt, because it was confirmation that I shouldn’t feel alive again, like a million knives digging into my skin, and into these diseased veins. A battle I could not win, against the two of you. Unless I jumped.

You could see the finality in my eyes. You could see the want. The need to give up. So When you spoke this time, it was slow, methodical yet  unrehearsed, your words came carefully, filled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place, but it was one I’d never heard come out of you so overwhelmingly. “You are not the monster, I should have never said that. You are the savior. The healer. The guide. You are the broken piece of the puzzle that made all of us complete. You are why we are here still. All of us. We are the monsters. You’re the one turning us into decent human beings. Please.”

Love?

There it was coursing through your eyes, dancing wildly on your face, and winding through the tones and inflections in your voice. The feeling I’d been waiting to see in you. You cared. You cared about me. I mean I’ve seen you care before, but never so blatantly.I could bottle up this very moment. I could, I could... I let my head fall into your chest and felt your arms holding me up while my knees went weak. You cared. Why do you have to care about me?  Everyone else could continue on just fine but you, you couldn’t move forward without me, and I wouldn’t let you do what I was just about ready too. “Please.” You say again and I know it is the most important thing to keep me alive right now. I know that it’s more than what you want or need, it’s everything, it’s what will stop our world from imploding sometime in the future, its keeping the wheels turning until the next savior is born. My blood. Our sacrifice. Keeping each other alive.

I would keep you alive. So of course you would keep me.

I nod in your chest, “Just don’t die, just don’t fucking leave, just don’t give up either please.” I say.

“I am Gabriel, your Guard-”

“And part of you left me!” I growl in your chest, anger and sadness crashing against each other louder than the waves below.

“He has only left us physically, he is fighting the battle from the other plane now. Without his sacrifice your powers would have never appeared.”

“Why wasn’t it you?” I asked this out of curiosity, but your face showed that you heard different. Your jaw tightened and I reached up to touch it. It relaxed at my touch and I smiled for a moment, “Because this is a battle your strengths work well in, and the battle he is in, is the battle his work well in right?” You connected your eyes to mine and there is where you saw my innocence, I think you began to understand that I knew nothing of what was going on now. You rested your forehead against mine...

“Here,” You spoke, closing your eyes, I copied the movement, feeling familiar with this process though it’d never happened before in this life. “I’ll help you remember, and i’ll let you see him again.”

I opened my eyes confused, and the brightest white light pierced my vision causing me to shut them quick. If I had been shivering before, I was nearly convulsing now, I could feel my body, my... physical body shaking, but my spirit...My spirit felt as if it was being pulled back and out of my very flesh and bone into an entirely different time, different place, different plane, dimension. Soon I was seeing a grassy piece of land coming towards me at max speed. Was I falling, I began to feel the wind pressing past me. Yes I was falling and this was a far fall. I would not survive this if I hit.

So boy, was I relieved when I saw you, arms outstretched, wings wide and dark, ready to catch me. It was even better when he beat you to it. Like every single time before, and every single time after. He was already in the air, already holding me. Already slowing my fall. I turned in his arms, and looked up at his face as he landed beside you. Alive and Bright and smiling, and so were you. Your smile hadn’t fallen short even though he’d beat you. This must have been one of the first times he’d won.

You hugged me, and spun me around, causing me to laugh and kiss your cheek! You were the bestest friend a girl could ever have. Even on the pier.

You both were.

This is how it’d always been.

My Gabriel split in two, and Me, the Girl who was supposed to heal them all, including you. But could never make a fucking decision.

To be continued...