#with not even a briefest of mentions of where we're going and why

[knightofleo]

[just-some-random-blogger]

Vengeance & Nightmares

Dream of the Endless x Wayne!Reader, Bruce Wayne & Sister!Reader

Summary: You confront Bruce with the fact that he hasn't been sleeping, and his eye twitches as the mention of Dream. He does not enjoy the nagging so much that he sleeps out of spite, willing a gun in his thoughts as he did so.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Sibling arguments, angry delirious & sleep deprived!Bruce, angst ig, briefest mentions of injury, girl please idk if i have to keep saying there is no incest in this but i will because if any of you come with that I will riot, typos, etc.

A/N: This isn't necessarily a part 2 but yeah i have another wayne!reader fic you might wanna check out. Also i made a technical p3 I'm tagging @lexi-anastasia @igotanidea because they seemed to like the first one lol also my loves @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9

Bruce grunts, holding the strained part of his ribcage as he walks over to his computer chair.

His chair then swivels unexpectedly which makes him freeze. He grunts at what he sees, tension leaving him quickly, "get off my chair."

"You mean," I look at his injured face and torn suit, "the chair I bought because you lost 2 inches of your height after hunching over for days."

I narrow my eyes as he walks over to me.

"Yes, yes, thank you," he says, grabbing me then unceremoniously ripping me off his spot where he heavily plops down.

I groan at his actions, eye twitching at the sound of his quick typing. I do not pullback my punch on his arm, which causes a loud thud to echo in the bat cave along with his whine.

Bruce snaps to me and screams my name out in annoyance and anger.

"Dream told me you have not been sleeping for two weeks!"

At once, he shoots up, peering down at me angrily.

I am not in the slightest intimidated, "he said he's been anticipating you but you have not-"

"Do you and your boyfriend have nothing better to talk about?"

I roll my eyes, "besides the fact you've clearly not been listening to all the times I've chastised you for not going to bed-"

Bruce scoffs.

"-you've also not been listening to my stories about my relationship with Dream."

His eye twitches before he turns away and sits back down, "and why would I care about your relationship with him."

"Well, for starters he's not my boyfriend, we're taking it slow after he proposed again, but you obviously don't even-."

"Mmm, no, I know. It's a wise decision of a fool to go about with no labels with a man who clearly-"

Bruce does not get to continue when I kick his chair roughly and he shoots away to the other side of the room, office chair wheels whirring.

He calls my name out again but I ignore him and I begin to type away on his computer.

He is standing behind me when the profile pops up on screen: Dream of the Endless, a subfolder of Death, Delirium, ??? is attached.

I glare up at him and cross my arms, "maybe instead of sleuthing like a moron, you can just as me, ask him about whatever it is you need to know."

"The moron sleuth talks herself," Bruce presses the Esc button, "I know everything I need to know about your not boyfriend, little girl."

"You are," I pinch my fingers together tightly, "insufferable!"

"Clearly, it's genetic."

I shove him away, knowing well he was injured underneath his armor, and storm off.

Just then, Alfred, who was holding a tray of medical equipment freezers. I give him a look as I leave, "let him suffer, Alfred."

"Yes, I have withheld the pain killers, ma'am."

Bruce only turns to Alfred when he hands him a pill bottle.

"You should listen to your sister for once."

He looks at the sleeping pills in Alfred's grip and feels his pulse quicken. His eye begins to twitch, "fine," he grabs it, "I have business I need to discuss with her not boyfriend anyway."

Alfred sighs deeply.

Dream senses him the moment he made it to the Dreaming.

"Bruce," the king of Dreams greets the elder Wayne with a soft smile, "I am glad to finally have-"

The sound of a gun cocking stops him.

The two stare at each other for a long moment.

Bruce's breathing is taxed, his arm is shaking, his eyes were blown. He was severely fatigued, even in his dreams, because that was how he was projecting himself.

Dream narrows his eyes at him, "you think you can harm me in my realm?"

"No, but it will get my point across," Bruce mutters and begins shooting. Though there is a sound of gunshots, instead of bullets, cherry candies fall to the ground, the exact one Wayne the younger absolutely adores.

Bruce twitches at the sight of it and throws the gun at Dream. It turns into a butterfly midway.

Dream allows him to charge at him. He is grabbed by the collar, shaken angrily by Bruce, but he only looks at him blankly.

"You know damn well why I don't sleep," he seethes, "you are the one that wills these nightmares into my mind to torment me."

"I do not will nightmares to torment you any more than I do anyone else."

"So, you think you are so just with your cruelty?"

"You think yourself so clever, but you would not understand my mind anymore than ant could."

"Oh, but I know you well enough," Bruce clenches his Dream's collar, grip shaking in anger, "my nightmares have changed ever since you started messing around with my sister."

Dream's expression barely falters, but it does not matter, he caught it. Bruce caught him.

He shoves him off, but he does not budge. Bruce pulls away, finally finding it in himself to gather some composure.

"You care for her a great deal-"

"She's my sister."

"-and I am not trying to steal her from you."

Bruce narrows his eyes, "you cannot steal her from me because she does not belong to me."

"Then I am not trying to steal your moments with her," Dream rephrases.

Bruce looks at him for a moment. A butterfly flutters between them.

"It would surprise you to know that your will dictates your own dreams as much as mine," Dream says, placing his hands behind his back, "I had meant to give you a peaceful dream but you dreamt it all on your own."

Bruce freezes.

Dream watches him intently.

"The dream at the toy shop."

"Yes."

"... that wasn't you?"

"No."

Bruce could not stop himself form knitting his brows deeply, feeling his throat constrict along with his chest.

"You are too hard on yourself, Bruce," Dream says, pulling a toy robot from behind him, "too hard on your sister."

Bruce doesn't take it. He only stares at the outdated thing and allows tears to fall from his eyes.

"Sleeping regularly will allow you not to be."

"Don't tell me what to do, old man," Bruce eyes him darkly, "my father's dead, and you sure as hell won't act like mine."

Batman clenches his jaw tightly, scrutinizing his sister's preference in the Endless, "and stay out of my dreams."

Lord Morpheus feels the boy struggle with himself.

Bruce abruptly wakes up, tense in his bed. He relaxes when he realizes he successfully woke himself up.

[salarta]

Wherein we're reminded that the upcoming X-Factor will be trash and should die as quick a death as possible.

And below is everything I have to say about it. As usual, deliberately not adding tags as I don't really want to give this garbage fire any promotion.

It's interesting, how these interviews always avoid inconvenient and difficult questions and stick to things that tow the company line. I wonder why that is.

His description of "telling a new story using the old ingredients" is pretty apt because that translates to the exact same awful taste, just giving it a different presentation. It's also not lost on me how he talks only about Havok. That betrays where the focus is when it comes to using Lorna here: all on how it benefits Havok, not at all on if it's appropriate for Lorna or benefits her in any way.

It also astounds me how comic books are the one place where editors and writers feel it's perfectly appropriate to treat a character like it's okay to screw a character over and treat them like they're merely an extension of another character, particularly doing this to a female character in service to a male character. All other mediums recognize that even supporting character deserve respect and a spotlight of their own, where who they are isn't defined exclusively by how helpful they can be to the main characters.

So far, this book's attitude toward Lorna is making a great case for not even getting into comics. Why read them when all you'll get is poor treatment that went out of fashion last century?

It's pretty bold of Russell to think the sole problem for depiction of this relationship has been how Havok comes off. It's bold in how it completely ignores the aspect in which Lorna was depicted poorly for his benefit. In doing that, Russell implies that all the worst treatment of her is accurately depicting her. Lorna cowering behind a rock while Sabretooth chases her, saying how she wishes Havok was there to kiss her and chase the boogeyman away? Sure. Lorna locking herself in an apartment and obsessing over Havok's costume? Why not. Lorna getting tortured purely so we see Havok's manpain at having to hear her getting tortured? Great writing all. Just truly. Perfect. No notes.

You will notice I did not mention anything about Austen there. Because contrary to what some Havok fans like to think, the problems with how Lorna's treated in this relationship pre-date Austen by decades and persist with multiple writers.

I've always had zero faith in this book from the second I heard Lorna would be forced onto it. Everything that comes out only further proves me right. But in the extremely absurd hypothetical scenario where Russell somehow pulls gold out of a garbage can, it wouldn't last. Because the goal here isn't really one of making the pairing good and viable. It's about forcing people to accept it, then going back to the full-fledged trash it always is. Every single time they're paired back up, without fail, it always results in Lorna getting treated like shit to benefit Havok. Having everything about her destroyed for the briefest of bumps in mediocre interest in Havok.

Because to people like Tom Brevoort, completely destroying the massive potential of a character like Lorna is worth it if it makes a cis straight blonde white man a period of a percentage point more popular.

Anyway, that's what I have to say about this trash at the moment. Again, here's to hoping it dies fast.

[deiarcana]

A Young Girl's Storm

Her eyes gaze curiously towards the endless sea, shining with a desire to swim and see where she would end up. There are only two things that stop her: one, she's wearing her favorite dress; and two, I haven't taught her how to swim yet.

I don't believe I will have time to do so either. I can smell them in the air, a cruel and terrible storm is approaching us despite the clear morning sky.

By instinct, I held her hand tighter, eliciting a whimper of pain from my only daughter.

I quickly release my hold and kneel at her eye level. "Apologies, Quinn, honey." Offering her a wry and sheepish smile as I pat her head.

She looks at her hand for a moment, taking her time nursing it before looking me in the eye and smiling. "It's okay!" she says, taking my hand again. "Do you think you could teach me how to swim now?" Then changing the subject.

She has seen something again on my face, perhaps on the light behind my eyes. And whatever it is she doesn't like it, neither do I.

Which is why I am afraid to ask her about it, following her lead instead. "Not today, Quinn, honey." I smile placatingly as I stand back up. "A storm is coming."

"... Really?" Her question was rhetorical, disappointed but with no distrust, I wish it had more of the latter.

She's a good daughter, too good of one. She learned how to smile and speak before six, mastered her letters and numbers by eight, and has never once defied me in the decade of her life.

Even now, there she is: silently reading something from my small library, seemingly absorbed by it as the storm I predicted got worse and worse outside of our door.

I have a reading of my own to be done, a breakthrough in a field I've long held interest in, but I can't seem to focus, not when I know for certain my own daughter has been stealing glances towards me the entire time we're inside.

She wants to say something, but she never once raises her head again after I begin paying attention to her, obvious that we share the talent of knowing when someone is watching us.

Idly, I wonder if such a talent is indeed genetics by nature or if it's a simple nurture. Whatever the case, she's not as good as her father, not yet.

At the moment when she believed I was done watching, she stole another glance at me, locking our eyes together.

Not one to waste an opening. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice gentle with no reproach.

She's dumbfounded, but only for a moment. The rest of her silence is her mulling, debating inside her own little mind for a few moments.

Patiently, I wait until she makes her decision, ready to accept whatever it is.

"Papa," she begins with her first word; a word she would say to manipulate me to give her what she wants.

But there's no ulterior motive to such a word now. She says it sincerely, desperately, as if hoping the mention of her father would be enough.

Enough for what? I asked as she reached her little hand towards mine, holding it tight.

"I..." she hesitated, so I squeezed back, willing all the strength and bravery that occupied me move my daughter instead.

And with my strength. "I will make all the bad things go away," she continues. With my bravery. "I promise," she swore by word and tongue.

And for the briefest of moments, I believe her. Believe her promise, rely on her comfort, grateful for her words.

After all—there is a rap on the door, cutting me off.

I know who and what is coming. So, I put on my best smile. "Quinn." And gain her attention while I pray she doesn't see the plasticity of my expression.

"Father?" Her word changes now, and worry creases her brow.

"Be a dear and go to your room, okay?" I say, as reassuringly as possible. Long she looks at me as if willing me to change my mind, but when the door raps again and I say nothing, she nods and stands instead.

I kiss her forehead. "I love you." And part her my last word. She jumped me with a hug in return. "I love you too, Father."

For an eternity the moment lasts before she lets me go and walks away, never looking back.

When she disappeared to the second floor, I pressed my cane to the floor as I rose, feeling magic gather around my body.

Forever I hope she knows her parents love her. My world, my joy, my daughter: please mistake this for thunder.

***

A child stares silently at the corpse of her father. Her hands are trembling, and so does her lips. Her eyes are watery as she finally buckles under the pressure and falls onto the floor.

She really wants to cry, but will herself not to. There's no one out there that will comfort her, not anymore.

She's alone now, alone with the oath she swore and broke hours ago.

Alone.

[hopecountyisforlovers]

dinner;

rating: lets say teen. mentions of cannibalism and murder and cults

pairing: ezra x hannibal

words: 839

summary: two men have a conversation over dinner. this is the best dialogue i have ever written in my life hands down

-----X-----

The quiet sounds of Claude Debussy trickle into the ornate dining room from the next one over, just loud enough to set a perfect tone for the evening.

"Why do you invite me to dinner?"

"Would you prefer I did not?"

"No, of course not. Your company is as excellent as your cooking." The answering smile he receives summons wings in his stomach. "But surely there are more interesting people you could be spending your time with than your secretary."

"I do not think I could find someone more interesting than you, especially on short notice."

"What makes you say that?" The alcohol has emboldened him a touch, he notices, and he's sure so does Hannibal. If he is offended, he makes no note of it. If anything, he seems amused, the corners of his mouth pulled up into a barely-there ghost of his stunning smile.

"Do you remember the day a wasp got into my office?"

"Yes?"

"That day.... you were fascinating that day. Cradling something dangerous in your hands, giving it the power to hurt you, if only to save it's life."

"All life is precious. Even scary things have the right to live." Ezra glances down at his dinner plate, aware of what hes consuming even though he should not be, and yet the only feeling that fills him is warmth. He can't even force himself to pretend it's just from the wine. "Especially scary things. They usually have no one to advocate for them. "

"Do you relish fear, Ezra?"

"Fear is a form of feeling alive. I think we feel most alive when we're about to die."

"Do you feel like you are about to die now?"

"If you were going to kill me, you would have done it by now. You've certainly had plenty of opportunities."

"And yet your cheeks flush, your heart races.... "

"I didn't say I don't feel alive. " A pause, soft piano and the scrape and clink of silverware on plates the only sounds in the room. "Did you lie, about being allergic?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"The same reason I often lie. To see what you would do."

"Are you going to keep lying to me?"

"If I answer that, you have no way of discerning if it is the truth or a lie." Ezra nods, taking another sip of his wine, and he can feel Hannibal watching with rapt attention. "You do not seem upset by this."

"If things are going to be the same as they've always been, what reason do I have to be upset?"

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life." He tilts his head to the side, silky black strands shifting with the motion where they hang around his face. "Are you trying to upset me?"

"No, and that is the truth. But I fear inevitably that I would regardless, if I was to be completely honest."

"I doubt that."

"What if I was to tell you that what I had served you was not actually pork?"

"I would tell you that I know that it isn't."

There is the briefest flash where Ezra knows he's caught him off guard, and he uses it as an opportunity to take another bite. The flavor is rich and decadent on his tongue, even moreso than the wine- there is really nothing else like it.

"How?"

"I would hate to monopolize dinner by talking about myself."

"Nonsense. You are my guest, after all."

He pauses for a moment, considering if it would be best to lay all his cards on the table, before catching a glimpse of soft brown eyes across the table and quickly discarding it. Ezra understands why Hannibal is a good psychiatrist- secrets do not keep company with him, outside of his own. "Do you remember, about 10 years back, hearing about the Aeternum Divinum?"

"A butchering of fine Latin. And that wasn't the only thing they butchered. Even their own were not safe- it was the largest and most brutal string of cult murders since Manson freely walked the earth."

"Manson was harmless in comparison."

"You were a member?"

"I was their second in command."

"And yet here you are, much freer than Manson."

"People felt sorry for me. They didn't want to condemn a young "girl", freshly 18, to die, not one who had so clearly been manipulated by a charismatic older man."

"Were you?"

"That's the funny thing about manipulation, isn't it? It can be so hard to tell."

"And the eternal life you sought?"

"Eternal life was never something I craved. That was his goal."

"Then what was your goal?"

"I didn't have one. Everything on Earth is able to be killed so that we can eat, so that we can flourish, even the Earth itself. Why should we be the exception to that rule?"

In a quick movement, his wine glass is being refilled- he hadn't noticed it was empty.

"A toast, then. To flourishing."

He can't help but match the smile he's given as their glasses clink together.

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

I'm seeing on twitter people complaining about the rematch that's going to happen in the Obi wan kenobi series and I think I'd like to talk it and why I personally think there being three fights with Anakin/Vader makes more sense than having just the original two:

So the Kenobi series of course takes place between the gap of the prequel and the original trilogies, meaning this fight (right now I'm just going to assume it's going to be just the one probably towards the end, if it's going to be one off series with one season - if not that's another story but for now we're going to assume this rematch is one fight) is the second one out of three, it's the middle ground fight and the first fight with Anakin as Vader.

Now people are having problems with it because they feel this rematch comes "out of nowhere" basically, I don't think this is the case: Vader in the original never finished his line about when him and Obi wan last fought and of course in hindsight since of course the original trilogy was, well... the original trilogy and that line could’ve just been something that wasn't really intended to go anywhere but in story lore wise to what he going to say if he could finish he didn't have mention their last fight on Mustafar.

So you know that scene in Rebels when Vader's helmet gets chipped and Ahsoka could see Anakin's eye from underneath? Just the the full waver of emotion in that scene as you see in her face her hesitance before refusing not to leave him because she still believes he's in there and for the briefest of moments you can tell he's considers it but pushes it away and immediately goes back swinging at her? For this second fight I want something very similar to that, I want the entire fight just raw with uncaged emotion to act as fuel behind every swing the very second Obi wan recognizes that who he's facing down is - or was - Anakin. Differently from Ahsoka's encounter he wouldn't beg for him to come to back the light, that was already tried the during first fight with the "You were my brother, Anakin-" and so on. Now, ten years after the fact, I think he'd see there's no convincing easy way to convince him. He's a threat and he is helping serve/keeping Palpatine in power - that he has to deal with, even though he is still is brother and that hurts him. There's various things I want to see from him; like guilt. The guilt Obi wan has seeing Anakin like this barely even alive in a suit that obviously hurts him to be in and him reflection on his own failure as a master seeing his padawan swayed to the dark side when he himself knew how corrupt the jedi were that only fueled Anakin's changes more. I want this fight to be so emotional, I don't even think I even describe it more besides that I want them to be still on equal footing but fighting each other tooth to nail until both of then have to call it quits on a draw or something (debatable if Vader still has really either teeth or nails but not the point)

But most importantly I want this fight to the be the middle ground, where afterwards and Obi wan has all of his shit together he then just stays on Tattooine as old man Ben, watching over Luke until New hope, there he'll fight Anakin for the last time; and with enough confidence in Luke's abilities that he can take down his father and the Empire, the final fight much more calm and accepting of his fate much opposite than the last. He did his job to the fullest and reunited Anakin with both of his kids in one place in the end so he could rest peacefully.

Anyway, just my thoughts I tried my best to string together hope I made sense :)

[i-run-with-a-wolfpack]

Twilight fanfiction/ Embry Call x OC/ mature rating/will be a short one but more than 1 part

Can't Help But Wait 1 - The Start of It All

"Hey."

Startled, I dropped the handful of books in my hand and gasped. "You scared me," I laughed as he walked around me, crouched down and began picking them up.

"Sorry."

I held my hand to my chest and watched as he stood slowly, giving me a small smile and handing me the dropped books. His fingers brushed mine and I felt it. There was an unmistakable attraction between me and him.

Embry Call.

I nervously smiled and returned to my task. He watched me for a moment before retreating to his favorite corner to read. My stomach was buzzing at the thought of him in such a close proximity. Until I remembered he wasn't available. Still I found my way to his corner, pretending to dust the shelves and hoping he'd talk to me again.

For the last several months, Embry had come to the bookstore everyday. He didn't say much, but the way he looked at me. Wow. No one had ever looked at me as intensely as he had that day. I felt so drawn to him. 

Embry was quiet and thoughtful, spending his lunch hour, sitting near a window and reading. He was like my dream man. If only he didn't have a girlfriend. I hadn't seen him in days. I was a little embarrassed to admit that I had missed his daily presence, especially since we had barely talked. 

I knew he was 20 and employed full time working with Paul and Jared doing construction. He usually came in dirty or shirtless or both. I often had to remind him to get his shirt back on since it violated the store policy of no shirt, no shoes, no service.

What a stupid rule.

Paul and Jared were a little older, both married to girls from the rez. I had a cousin who lived there and since it was such a small community, she knew all the gossip. That was also how I found out that Embry had a girlfriend. 

"Hungry?"

I stood near him, offering him half of my sandwich. I tried not to sigh when he smiled up at me. "You shouldn't have." Embry hesitated for a moment before reaching for the food, our fingers touching for the briefest of moments.

I was about to walk away when I heard his melodic voice utter, "Will you join me?"

Internally, I did a happy dance before I remembered the girlfriend. Damn. "I don't know…" I shrugged as I turned to face him.

He patted the arm chair across from his. "Please?"

How can I say no to that?

"You're really funny," Embry commented later after I had told him a story about one of our more eccentric customers. This was one of the longest conversations I had ever had with Embry and I was loving every second of it. 

As we sat and talked about everything from work to books to the weather, I couldn't help but think, this guy is so perfect for me. I loved the way his intense, dark eyes held my gaze. I noticed the way his attention would drift from my eyes to my mouth and back again. It almost seemed like he wanted to kiss me. Almost. 

I jumped when someone tapped on the window and my head jerked toward the sound of voices outside on the sidewalk. Embry groaned when Paul tapped his wrist and gave him a stern look. The other guys with Paul were eyeing me up and down. One of them was even making kissy faces, obviously trying to embarrass poor Embry.

I burst out laughing when one of them, Jared, I think, was pressing his back against the glass with his hands around his neck, making it look like he was being kissed by someone. "Your friends are really mature," I scoffed.

Embry stood and sighed. "I use the term 'friends' loosely."

I laughed in response, but my smile faded when he held his hand out to me. I locked eyes with him as my hand slid into his. He pulled gently, but I still ended up in his arms. "I'm so sorry," I sputtered nervously. 

Embry laughed as he put a little distance between us. "Sometimes I forget how strong I am." 

I blinked quickly up at him, suddenly aware of his sinewy arms and how they expertly held me. His touch was feather light as his arms encircled my waist. He smelled amazing. It was a combination of the outdoors, fresh cut pine, and a manly cologne smell. It wasn't overpowering, just enough to catch my attention and make me wish I could sniff his skin.

Oh wow. I really have a problem.

I stepped out of his hold, shrinking away from him as I suddenly felt very guilty.  "You have a girlfriend, don't you?" I blurted suddenly. 

Embry looked at me as though I had slapped him. He shook his head and made his way to the cash register. When he plopped down the book he always read, I glanced up in confusion. "You want to buy this?"

"It's a bookstore, isn't it?" he snipped at me.

I sighed and nodded, angry with myself for whatever I did to upset him. I rang up the book and watched as he threw down a twenty. I handed Embry his change, cupping his hand with both of mine. "I didn't mean to make you mad. Someone told me you were involved so…"

"You think I'm a cheater, Nicolle? That's the type of guy I seem like to you?" he huffed impatiently as the front door was yanked open by his friends.

I opened my mouth to retort, but he was gone before I could speak. I looked down at the book in my hands and immediately darted to the front door to catch him. "You forgot your book!" I called down the street.

He hopped into the bed of Paul's work truck and as it sped by, he yelled, "It's for you!"

I looked down at the book and then back at him as the truck careened around the corner and out of sight. I slunk back into the store, just staring at the book I had seen Embry reading on his lunch hour for months now. 

Waiting - A Book of Romantic Poetry

I never realized this was what he had been reading. And why did he buy it for me?

As the rest of my shift passed slowly by, I opened my precious gift to read the first page. Instead I found that someone had written a note inside.

N -

I know you can't understand what you feel for me. I barely understand it myself. For months, I've sat in this store just to be near you. I can't explain to you why. I know you would never understand. But I need to be near you.

Please know that I can't help but wait until the day I can share my secrets with you and we can finally be together. It's all I dream about.

Love, E

I swallowed thickly as I reread the note a few more times. Why? What is he waiting for? Why couldn't he just ask me out? And why did he get so upset when I mentioned his girlfriend? I was so confused.

With my mind on Embry and his cryptic note, I finished my closing procedures and was beginning to lose hope that I would ever see him again. He was so angry when he stormed out that I just prayed I'd get the chance to straighten things out with him. His note had me more intrigued than ever.

With my back to the front door, I heard it open and cringed, knowing I should have locked it first thing. "I'm sorry, we're closed!" I called out as I swung around to see who had entered the store after closing.

My breath caught in my throat when I found a pair of bloodshot eyes staring back at me. "We're closed," I repeated, silently hoping this boy was just here by accident. 

He glanced around quickly, his movements jerky and nervous. "You alone?" he croaked.

I swallowed thickly and shook my head. "My boss," I lied, "is in the back room."

He glanced in that direction and I noticed his disheveled appearance, dirty hair, and the unmistakable sign of needle marks on his arm. A junkie. He could barely focus on one thing before his head and gaze would bounce around. "You're lying," he spat. "You've been the only one here all day."

"You've been watching me?" I squeaked.

He smiled with his yellow crooked teeth and I shuddered because he didn't look scared anymore. He wanted something. I just prayed it wasn't me. Before I could ask, he produced a long hunting knife from his back pocket and pointed it at me. "I need money," he demanded. 

I swallowed thickly and nodded. I knew I was in danger. Forks didn't have a huge problem with drug use but having worked downtown, I'd seen enough panhandlers to know it was an issue. He was obviously desperate for his next fix. He scratched at his skin with one hand and waved the knife around with the other. "Did you fucking hear me?" he spat. "The money! I know you have it!"

I began to move around the counter to retrieve the bank bag from under the counter when the boy advanced on me. "Where are you going?" 

"It's behind the counter," I replied shakily. "Just let me go get it."

When I moved again, he reached for my arm and squeezed hard. "Don't try anything. You hear me?"

I nodded again, my eyes never leaving the enormous, jagged edge being brandished my way. He let go but followed me as I rounded the corner and dug the bag out of the drawer we kept it in. "Here," I choked out as I shoved it in his direction. I prayed he would just take it and leave me alone.

He smiled devilishly as he unzipped the bag and sifted through it. When he returned his gaze to me, I froze. I took a careful step back when he moved toward me. Now my back was pressed to the side counter and I had nowhere else to go.  When he raised that sharp knife and pressed it to the center of my chest, I resisted the urge to scream. 

"You're really pretty," he sneered. 

I could feel the nausea beginning to take over. I just wanted him to leave. "You got your money...can't you just go?" I argued in a voice that betrayed how scared I really was.

He leaned forward, his face only inches from mine. "I'll go when I'm ready," he challenged me angrily.

When he lowered his gaze to the front of my shirt and began dragging the knife up to tear my clothing, I squeezed my eyes shut. "Look at me," he urged in a growly voice that made my skin crawl.

I couldn't stand to see that look in his eye.  I didn't want that to be the last thing I ever laid eyes on. "Please don't," I begged when I felt the pull of the knife against my shirt, occasionally hitting my skin.

I could feel my shirt falling open and the unmistakable feeling of blood dripping from the cuts. "Look at me!" he demanded again.

I whimpered in response to his harsh tone. When I leaned away from him he grabbed the back of my head and hissed in my ear, "We're gonna have some fun now."

"Hey."

My eyes snapped open to find we weren't alone. I stared back at the beautiful eyes I had seen in my dreams the past few months. My stomach clenched in fear when I realized he could be in danger too. Before I could tell Embry to go, my captor swung around and swiped at Embry, causing me to shriek out in fear.

Embry jumped back quickly but not before the tip of the knife cut across his stomach and tore his t-shirt open. The Iittle bastard chuckled at the sight of Embry's spilt blood. Consumed with anger, I shoved the boy from behind, gasping when he turned the knife back to me. 

Embry seized the opportunity to put him in a headlock and grab the wrist that held the knife. "Look out!" I cautioned as they struggled and the knife swiped the air. Embry tightened his hold and I watched as the intruder gasped for air until his eyes went dark. 

When he landed in a heap on the floor, my hero rushed forward and gathered me up in his arms. His eyes quickly scanned me, zeroing in on the cut on my chest. He scooped me into his arms and climbed over the trash on the floor. "It's gonna be okay," he murmured into my hair over and over.

I threw my arms around his neck and sucked in a deep breath. He tightened his hold on me and when I opened my eyes, I found the robber was coming back for more. The door swung open and I heard a voice call out, "Embry! What's the hold up?"

Embry fell to his knees with me in his arms and that's when I saw the jagged blade had sunk deep between his shoulder blades. The junkie pulled it right back out and chuckled maniacally. "Now what, hero?" he taunted.

I cupped Embry's face in my hand and felt the tears welling up in my eyes. I looked up to see Paul kneeling in front of us. "Take her," Embry growled. "Get her outta here."

I whined in protest when Paul pulled me from Embry's grasp and swiftly carried me to the front door. I turned my head to see Embry lunge at the monster, tackling him to the ground. Paul yanked his truck door open and carefully set me on the passenger seat. His eyes widened when he saw the cut on my chest. He pulled a rag from his back pocket and held it to the wound as I watched him.

"Please go help him," I begged. "Embry needs your help."

Paul glanced back through the front window and chuckled. "He's fine. Embry doesn't look like it, but he's quite the scrapper," Paul joked. 

I furrowed my brow and gathered the front of Paul's t-shirt in my fist. "This isn't the time for jokes! What if he kills Embry?" I cried.

Paul looked hard at me and scoffed. He gestured to the cut on my chest and shook his head. When he leaned in close to me, I locked eyes on him and listened to his words. "That guy hurt you, Nicolle. He'll be lucky if he walks out of that store alive."

I shifted my gaze to the store to find Embry straddling the junkie and pounding his face over and over. "You're right. Please stop him," I gasped. "I don't want Embry to go to jail over this!"

Paul glanced between me and Embry, finally sprinting back into the store and yanking his friend off the drug addict currently looking unconscious on the floor.

The next few minutes went by in a haze. I heard the sirens from an ambulance and police car. Officers dashed past me and stormed into the store as Paul pulled Embry away. A gurney was dragged through the doorway and I watched the beaten boy on the floor begin to receive medical treatment. 

He wasn't dead and I was relieved. He had scared me and hurt me but I couldn't bear the thought of Embry going to jail for it.

I could see the gurney being pushed out and his battered body strapped down. His eyes were fluttering open so I assumed he was still conscious. He even gave me a sickly smile and I turned my nose up in disgust.

The next thing I noticed was Paul's voice as the officers led him out of the store and straight up to me. He was arguing with the police and suddenly I realized why. He was in handcuffs, just like Embry. "Stop!" I shouted. "You arrested the wrong guys!"

I explained to the officers that if it weren't for Embry, I didn't know what could have happened. But all they wanted to focus on was the fact that Embry had beaten the young junkie to a pulp. "He stole the deposit!" I declared. "He put the bag in the back of his pants."

An officer jogged over to the ambulance and checked the 'victim' to find I was right. He produced the bag and checked the contents. "Please let these guys go. I swear they saved me from him. He could've killed me with that knife he had."

After they saw my knife wound and Embry's cut open shirt, as well as discovering the large weapon behind the counter, they seemed to finally come to the conclusion that these Quileute boys were my heroes and agreed to let them go. The officers insisted on driving us to the hospital to be checked out since we obviously weren't riding with the criminal. I was happy to see that they had at least handcuffed the junkie to the gurney before speeding off.

Embry and I settled into the backseat together and after a few moments, he scooted close to me and pulled me to his chest. I tried not to cry as he crushed me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. "I'm so sorry, Nicolle. I should've been there sooner. I'm sorry you got hurt," he whispered into my hair.

"I'm fine," I sniffled. "It's just a scratch, I swear."

Embry cupped my chin and tilted my head up. "He didn't...you know...touch you, did he?"

I blinked back my unshed tears and forced a smile up to his weary face. "He didn't get the chance. You got there just in time and...you...saved me."

He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, pulling me back to his chest and cradling me in his arms. "I almost lost you," he breathed.

I slid my hands around his waist, smoothing my fingers under his shirt when I realized I couldn't feel the gash on his stomach. I peeled back his shirt, that was torn and bloody, only to find no cut, no mark, no stab wound. 

"Embry?" I gazed up at him with questions in my eyes. "I don't understand." I felt around on his back where I knew for certain that the knife had been plunged in and there was nothing. 

"I saw you get stabbed," I gasped.

Embry's jaw tensed and he shook his head. "I'm fine," he insisted. When I furrowed my brow in confusion, he scoffed. "Just drop it, Nicolle."

His anger was back. Just like earlier in the store when I mentioned his girlfriend, it flipped a switch in him and he shut down. 

He had secrets, that much was obvious. As the scenery whizzed by and we finally pulled up to the hospital, I felt Embry's hand slip into mine. He leaned in close and pressed his mouth to my ear. "I'll tell you everything, I promise. Just trust me, honey."

I turned my head slightly and gazed up into his dark, mysterious eyes. I wanted to know everything. I needed answers to all my questions. But most of all I needed to know why my whole body lit up when he touched me. Or why I hadn't been able to stop thinking about him since the day he first set foot in the bookstore. 

I didn't believe in love at first sight, but there was always something pulling us together like magnets and I needed to know more.

....

[punkscowardschampions]

James & Ava

James: [so obviously all through this party whenever we can we're saying thanks/love you/sorry etc at relevant points via little touches but there hasn't been much time with all the kid chaos & we gotta use our words now] James: Thank you Ava: Don't mention it, I had a good time Ava: think the girls did too 😌 James: because of you James: which is why I had to mention it Ava: It's okay, making cupcakes and crafts was bound to be more fun than my history essay Ava: easy choice, really Ava: how are you now? apart from exhausted James: still astonished that Teddy helped to clear up, even though your cousin did most of it Ava: it's amazing what a boy will do to keep a girl happy, right James: whatever you're hinting at, I'll do it Ava: ���� do you think I'm that sort of girl?! 😂 James: I don't think I'm exhausted enough to fall into the trap of such a clearly trick question Ava: Then maybe you didn't party/clean hard enough 🤔 James: I'll happily send you evidence of me scrubbing the bath until it's less blue if you like James: but somehow I doubt that is what you're contemplating Ava: An interesting proposition Ava: but who decided baths had to be white anyway Ava: I say keep it James: hopefully whoever rents this place after we've gone will agree with you Ava: I'll bring 'round the spare bicarb, that'll work James: there'll be some in the cupboard, from all the baking recipes Jay's school sends insisting she needs it Ava: I guess I'll have to think of another excuse to come see you soon then James: wanting to is enough Ava: I'd have to be a fool to not want that James: though after today, less so James: I'm very sorry about my family Ava: They aren't your fault James: nevertheless James: & speaking of excuses, my sister told me she's pregnant again as one for her behaviour before I could properly challenge her for it Ava: Oh that's a shame, I could have implied she was just fat by asking Ava: but no, really Ava: I can handle it, it's not as if my family are particularly supportive about us either James: you'll have other chances before her official announcement, I'm sure Ava: not my style Ava: it'll be nice, for the girls to have more cousins their age James: but to hear her speak, there's already a very distinct possibility that this child has surpassed every single one of their age appropriate milestones whilst in utero Ava: 🙄 Ava: if anything that just means more pain on the way out, no Ava: not that underdone is the preference but you know James: she'll have scheduled the caesarean the moment there was evidence of a pink line Ava: guess she's confident in her ab-building post-baby workout then James: confidence has never been lacking as far as she's concerned Ava: I can tell Ava: like your dad, like you said James: yes Ava: I'm sorry Ava: that they tried to...whatever they were attempting to do, or if it was even intentional behaviour Ava: but I think the party still went well where it mattered James: there isn't a single thing for you to apologise for James: it did go well Ava: I'm not trying to add more tension or friction to proceedings when it already comes so naturally James: you didn't, in fact, by being there you managed to diffuse it James: I would have been a lot more stressed had you not been Ava: Good Ava: and she didn't show up Ava: so what more could we ask for James: my parents & sister following suit perhaps James: but that won't be much to ask once we move further than a stone's throw out of their shadow Ava: leaving the postcode for less than Monaco? Ava: unlikely Ava: I keep looking at places Ava: everything goes so fast, it's crazy, by the time I go to send the link, it's gone James: I've secured a viewing after work for the day after tomorrow, if you're free you're more than welcome to come James: [sends her a link] Ava: Wow, that's so exciting Ava: are you excited James: I'm cautiously optimistic Ava: That's such a you way to put it 😊 James: oh is it? Ava: Yes Ava: I like it James: I like that you're unabashed in your excitement Ava: You deserve exciting things to be happening Ava: there's nothing better than a new place for a fresh start James: if it were that simple, I'd agree with you that nothing could be better Ava: No, I know Ava: new floors and four walls doesn't fix everything Ava: but it is something you CAN do Ava: along with all the things you already are, and continue to do James: I want you to be right, but I can't help but feel that it's just a new location to hide in, because of all the things I can't change Ava: You aren't the one that ran away Ava: and no one can say that Ava: but you're better, even without the comparison to her which leaves you looking practically saint-like James: only because there is no amount of distance I can put between your brother & I which would alter the facts or the future as it is shaping up to be Ava: he's being so Ava: stubborn and stupid James: all day my thoughts kept circling back to the idea that this time next year everything could be different James: she might not be here James: I don't know what to do Ava: That won't happen Ava: we won't let it James: you wanting it to be a promise you can make or me wanting what you're saying to be true might not be enough James: I know how stubborn he is Ava: that doesn't mean that he can make a judge agree with him Ava: neither does the fact he's training to do as much Ava: you've raised her, you're her dad James: that alone doesn't mean I can guarantee anything either James: while raising her I've made a lot of mistakes Ava: no Ava: not nowhere near enough or the type that warrants anyone taking her away James: you didn't know me before rehab Ava: neither did my brother Ava: who's he going to call as a character witness, Chloe? James: he did, but I'll admit that the past is less of a pressing concern right now compared to the struggle of the present James: & the ease of getting wasted Ava: Hardly Ava: what kind of friend was he by that point Ava: he didn't tell you that Chloe had told him he was the father before you, did he? Ava: he has no room to judge, on any level Ava: he still does worse James: regardless, I can't blame him for judging me James: because I don't think there's worse than the things I consider doing whenever there's the briefest moment such as this, when they're asleep James: recovery is constant & truly exhausting Ava: Maybe you can't, but I can Ava: exactly Ava: it shows strength of character Ava: I'm just saying, if he takes it there, which, I'd hope not but no, I can't even pretend to promise that right now Ava: he can't be throwing around those sort of accusations like he's got nothing that would look worse under scrutiny James: it's a weakness of character James: & I don't want my flaws to extend to driving any kind of wedge between you & your brother James: or to have to expose any of his, irrespective of what they are James: being free of her finally means I no longer have to play any of those games Ava: admitting and dealing with it isn't Ava: I know Ava: it's horrible to think about, especially when it is so soon after she left, and how that has barely registered Ava: but if you have to, you'll do whatever you need to, right Ava: I mean, as long as it doesn't hurt her, then you have to James: I don't want to do anything that hurts you either Ava: It's not about me though James: he's your brother Ava: That doesn't mean I'm going to endorse his bad choices Ava: not for an easy life Ava: and not at the expense of yours, or Jay's, of course James: they aren't choices any of us should have to make Ava: no, we shouldn't Ava: but he has to be on board with that too Ava: he can't rush and force what he thinks he wants, without any regard for the rest Ava: just because the whole situation was fucked from the start James: he wants to meet her, I keep saying no Ava: Have you told her anything yet? Ava: Not saying 'yet' like you need to or there's a timescale here, you know what I'm trying to ask James: if there were a right time, it wouldn't be now James: she's coping well with her mother's absence but she's nevertheless having to cope James: I'm not going to give her something else to contend with until circumstances change, whether that's because of your brother or a more positive development Ava: Totally Ava: it's a lot already Ava: he should be thinking the same way James: he seems to, when we speak about it James: I can't blame him for wanting to get to know her though James: clearly that's my dad bias but anyone who doesn't is missing out Ava: she's a good kid James: you're good with her & for her James: I can't remember the last time she was as happy as she's been over the last few days Ava: that makes me happy too James: oh good, because I haven't yet asked how you are James: I'm sorry Ava: don't be James: it's important James: my family believes I see you as an unpaid problem solver & I have no desire to prove them right to any degree Ava: you know that I know that that's not how it is though Ava: I understand, you've got way too much going on in your head right now to be too concerned with the pleasantries Ava: I can do without James: just because you can doesn't mean you should James: this matters to me, you, us James: we're not an us if it's just me using you as a sounding board Ava: You don't Ava: and I know it matters because you wouldn't trust me with any of this if it didn't Ava: you've been there for me whenever I've needed you too, my problems are just smaller scale, on the whole Ava: doesn't make it one-sided James: okay James: as long as you know Ava: I promise Ava: I wouldn't hate some alone time with you soon though James: how soon can you do? Ava: I have to go to Dublin this weekend Ava: but Thursday I don't have any afternoon lessons, so if you could do something then? James: I'll pick you up James: if necessary I'll do extra work when you're in Dublin Ava: you're so lovely James: no, I missed you the second you left, that's all Ava: I missed you too Ava: not being able to talk properly Ava: I hate that about parties James: me too James: but you were a vision in your party outfit Ava: you think so? Ava: you can be a monster again any time you like 😋 James: yes, I very much think so James: you looked beautiful Ava: you'll make me blush James: I hope so, despite not being there to see it Ava: in terms of photographic evidence, definitely more fun than the clean bath James: unless I were in it, alas I'm not sure I'd fit Ava: Oh babe that's so sad Ava: the world doesn't cater to people your size, how rude 🥺 James: I'll try if you promise to drop whatever you're doing & help free me should the unthinkable occur James: & thankfully hotels do, so I won't have to see that face on Thursday Ava: Of course Ava: we have to protect your modesty and decency at all costs 🤭 Ava: hotel, you say? James: yes, that way we'll both fit James: without any kind of farce or firefighters getting involved Ava: I did say alone time Ava: no 🚓 🚑 🚒 allowed James: not in this chapter, I promise James: it's not that kind of book Ava: It doesn't have to be tasteful Ava: I don't think the readers will mind James: I'll bear that in mind Ava: Please do James: while I've got things under consideration, would you like to stay over? James: I can arrange taking you to school on Friday morning Ava: Um, yes Ava: of course James: okay, I'll ask Diana to watch the girls James: after today it's the least she can do Ava: Is she usually better when I'm not there? James: no James: she'll happily find a grievance with whoever is Ava: well, at least it isn't personal Ava: don't know if that's worse, actually James: plenty were tailored to you personally if that makes you feel any better Ava: it's understandable, I suppose Ava: if I was who they thought I was James: my ex wife was everything they thought she was & it did nothing to help me Ava: yeah James: I have my opinions on my sister's husband & I keep them to myself Ava: he wasn't there, was he? James: there's a slim chance you'll be able to meet him at her baby shower, but he wasn't at the last one Ava: I'm sure the chances I'll be invited are even slimmer Ava: sounds delightful though James: oh she'll invite you, if only to show you how a party should be thrown Ava: 😏 Ava: it's a good thing I already know baby shower etiquette then Ava: been to enough James: you'll have to teach me what it is Ava: Very modern of her to want any men there Ava: usually they object on the fact of it being 'women's business' and it's like a hen party with no alcohol James: Matilda's & Jay's were both like that Ava: Yeah, I can see that James: there was obviously champagne though James: I assumed that was why I wasn't invited Ava: Oh yeah, the other guests can get hammered Ava: and the mum has to lowkey cry about it the whole time, but all the gifts and attention you get should really make up for it Ava: they're weird, honestly, another excuse for all of the above James: the horrific flashbacks of said crying & attention have returned to me, thank you for that Ava: 😬 Ava: you can have a baby shower now if you would like Ava: I'll look up all the ridiculous games Ava: you earnt it James: you're the one who has earned anything you'd like James: there wouldn't have even been a party today if not for all the work you put in Ava: all I like is being with you Ava: it was worth it James: you know I don't want you to leave, it upsets me that you're not here now Ava: Same Ava: I wish I could be James: did you finish your homework? Ava: not quite, my parents wanted to talk to me for ages Ava: which really goes against their concerns being my schoolwork but there we go James: well, I'm very concerned about your schoolwork & ensuring you don't have to go to Kings after all, so if there's anything I can do to help Ava: I'll tell them Ava: that will no doubt but their mind at ease Ava: it's not even that hard, I'm just lacking motivation James: of course James: I went there too, none of the work was ever that hard Ava: they'd like you to believe the oxbridge admissions day others but Ava: we know the truth James: I'd like to know what would motivate you Ava: Well Ava: maybe we could do lunch or something before Thursday Ava: that is forever away James: it certainly does feel like it Ava: or we can walk Frank or I'll come 'round for dinner Ava: just say I can see you before then and I'll get it done James: we can do every single one of those things once you have Ava: 😍 Ava: Okay, I'll do it Ava: as you're so inspirational James: as we've discussed, I don't want things to be one sided James: & you're the most encouraging person I've ever met James: I've never found someone to be this stimulating before, it's a remarkably unfair contest for my capabilities James: thus I'm motivated to keep motivating you Ava: I love being with you so much James Ava: I can't wait for your life to be exactly what you want it Ava: it is going to happen, I'm so sure of it James: before you I didn't even know how my life could hypothetically be bearable, never mind thinking about how I may have wanted it in its ideal James: you build character, Ava James: I love you so much, but also I can stand who I am now, with you Ava: you're doing all the work though Ava: to totally restart, that's amazing you know Ava: and I love you too James: because you prompted it Ava: as long as you're taking your credit too, I can deal with that James: I need you to know that I couldn't do this without you, back then or now James: & how much I appreciate you is in line with that Ava: Good thing you've got me Ava: and good thing that's what we both want Ava: everything else we can work out together James: it's the most perfect thing James: hence I'm still working out how to do any of it justice with a novel Ava: Words are your speciality Ava: even if it takes a lifetime, that's time we have James: & if nothing else it puts your current writer's block into perspective James: you definitely won't be forced to do homework forever Ava: 😅 very true James: because of course my struggle is consistently greater than yours, darling James: there's a long line of people waiting to tell us, lest we forget Ava: but of course Ava: only have to worry about when my next assignment is due and how to wear my hair, thank god 💁 James: thank god Jay didn't insist you turn yours blue as well James: getting you sent home for violating the dress code wouldn't endear your parents to me Ava: I don't think I'd look anywhere as near as cool Ava: talk about a real party faux pas James: as far as she's concerned you're incapable of committing one, or any wrong at all Ava: no pressure 😅 Ava: she's so cute Ava: and funny James: she wants to get her hair cut next, as long as you say you like it when I eventually take her, you'll continue to be her favourite person Ava: Ooh, that's a big one Ava: how is dad feeling about it? James: hypothetically less hair to fight to get a brush through sounds like a fantastic idea James: but actually, I don't know Ava: she'll love it Ava: you will too Ava: though it'll be a total shock James: I'll be the sentimental fool, frantically trying to catch a lock to keep before it hits the floor, undoubtedly Ava: 🥺 You're adorable Ava: at least Mattie has a way to before her first haircut, a reprieve for you James: it'll make her happy, that's what I should focus on, I know Ava: you're still allowed to feel a type of way about it Ava: that's what dads are for James: mine isn't the demonstrative type, unless disappointment is what he wishes to convey, but yes James: I don't look to him for parenting advice Ava: You're already better Ava: and that can be a comfort now, instead of how he is being detrimental to you James: thank you James: all I ask is that you don't also decide to change how you wear your hair in the near future please, there are only so many changes I can endure regardless of whether they're positive or negative Ava: Okay, I can promise that Ava: just for you James: well in that case, just for you, I'll ignore the weather forecast & walk Frank tomorrow Ava: 😁 Ava: I wish you could come to Dublin too Ava: we'll be having bonfire night James: one day, I can promise that Ava: I know, it's too soon Ava: I'll buy sparklers, when I get back James: I look forward to it Ava: I won't bring back a jacket potato even though they're so much better off the fire James: true, I remember it being one of the main merits of scouts Ava: you were a scout? 😊 James: yes James: I did my D of E as well Ava: That tracks Ava: you're always prepared James: I don't know about that Ava: Are you suggesting that the D of E was in fact a massive waste of time? 🤔😱 James: I'm not suggesting anything until they approach me with whatever package they deem appropriate in order to secure a glowing endorsement James: King's have certainly benefited from having me on side, in spite of losing you to more worthy rivals Ava: Smart 😏 Ava: You did almost convince me, and in a way, you still did, just not to their benefit James: I can't in good conscience take credit for the persuasive charm of The Vault James: or pretend as though I wasn't the one being utterly convinced by you Ava: Of course, those dizzying highs are unparalleled and cannot be replicated anywhere else Ava: and just as obvious is my conniving seduction of you, as pointed out with pointed looks and silences James: it is a relief to hear that high school wasn't in fact my peak, I'll make sure to really emphasise my superiority in the book's acknowledgements Ava: If you thought it was possible to peak in that school, I'd have no interest in gold-digging you, would I James: nobody is professing that you're good at it, darling James: you'd have been more likely to target my father's bad marriage if so Ava: I'm so sad for myself Ava: tragically bad at it, really James: unfortunately we can't both be figures of pity & I've already been typecast in said role Ava: I'll have to get better at it and be more worthy of scorn James: regardless, there's very little chance they'll improve enough to be worthy of where they've put themselves James: though the mock trial is a kind consideration given that your brother is vying to put me before a real one, I suppose Ava: Thank God they don't know James: my father has already baulked at the idea of us moving, if I have to go to him cap in hand to pay for lawyers James: I dread to think Ava: I still hope they never need to be told Ava: maybe that's foolish at this point but James: if it is, it's a folie à deux James: but once I tell Jay I can hardly swear her to secrecy James: & she does need to be told, my delusion isn't that far reaching Ava: No, true Ava: kids are bad with secrets Ava: and obviously, not the kind of thing to encourage anyway Ava: they won't treat her differently at least, right? Ava: as long as they can keep their talking about it out of her earshot too, I feel that's the best we can hope for James: I'd love to say no, of course they wouldn't Ava: I didn't want to be the one to suggest it Ava: even if slagging off your family might seem like the appropriate course of action right now, not that bitch either James: there's very little you could suggest that my imagination hasn't beaten you to Ava: I know darling Ava: I'm sorry James: I try to console myself with the knowledge that there's a degree of inevitability anyway, look how differently I am treated, without any question of being his flesh & blood James: my family have & always will have their favourites, set in & as immovable as stone Ava: and she does have Chloe's parents, who clearly adore both girls Ava: I only have one set of grandparents Ava: you're right, they're going to act however they choose to act, and they can blame it on what they like but as long as Jay knows it isn't her fault and she is loved by lots of people, then that should be enough, and I'm sure it will be Ava: you've found happiness despite them James: & she will too, I'll make sure of that James: do your parents know? Ava: Yes Ava: he told them at the time, as well Ava: so they were less shocked but obviously still James: I definitely won't be welcome at the bonfire then Ava: It's not your fault Ava: they can't blame you James: it wasn't the first time I'd heard it said that I wasn't her dad either, I could've done something when it was Ava: She's the only one that knew the actual truth Ava: the only one that could say or do anything for definite James: I didn't want to know, that's my fault Ava: Neither did my brother James: we're as bad as each other Ava: It's more complicated than that James: it won't be to Jay Ava: I don't think Jay is going to understand it like that James: what I mean is, all of this should & could've been sorted out a lot sooner Ava: Maybe Ava: but none of you can go back James: no, we can't Ava: All either of you can do is go from here Ava: God knows what Chloe's next move will be James: as yet she isn't making any James: there wasn't even a card Ava: It's insane Ava: it's like she's dead Ava: playing dead, anyway James: that would be preferable James: at least I'd know what to say to Jay if she were Ava: It's so unfair Ava: that she thinks she gets to do this Ava: that she owes them nothing James: she does get to, neither I nor her parents can stop her Ava: If her parents know where she is though Ava: they could take the kids to her Ava: but then, I suppose all that would result in would be trauma for them Ava: for fuck's sake James: precisely, I can't blame them for being terrified of the scene they'd stumble into Ava: the parent that stays always get shit on Ava: it's not right, this is her mess and she's doing nothing to fix it James: I'll gladly fix it for their sakes, that is what's right James: they've been through enough with her Ava: and you'll do a better job than she ever could Ava: it's just frustrating Ava: but I know you know that more than me, and do not need telling remotely just Ava: I feel angry on all your behalves right now James: you don't know what it means to me, how much you care, even if it is distressing & distracting for you right now Ava: I know you want the best for me Ava: but in the grand scheme of things, me fluffing one essay is not actually the big deal any of my family would like to make it so we don't have to have a bigger conversation Ava: this is important, you are James: an assignment isn't the issue, it's that everyone believes you're consistently putting my importance above yours James: & maybe if it's that glaring to all but me they have a point & I am asking too much of you James: leaning on you too hard through this Ava: No, they don't want to see it, because this whole thing, us, makes them uncomfortable Ava: it'd be my business if I did anyway, every person in a relationship I know does that Ava: but it isn't at the cost of me and my importance anyway James: okay Ava: I promise, James James: I'm doing my best Ava: You're doing amazing James: it doesn't feel that way Ava: no Ava: but the girls are gonna grow up happy, and then it'll be worth it James: are they? Ava: Yes James: I want to believe that Ava: You'll get to see Ava: that doubt, of whether you're fucking it all up, is just part and parcel isn't it Ava: but things will get easier too, day to day like James: whether I fuck it all up again you mean, because I actually have for so long Ava: but you're fixing it Ava: that's what really counts James: but it doesn't erase my past mistakes, they count as well James: every slight against Chloé is also one against me because I stood by & let them happen James: I knew where she was, where she could plausibly still be James: & here I am, continuing to do nothing Ava: at the end of the day though Ava: all anyone really wants from their parents is love Ava: knowing that you love and care about and for them, put in that work, that's what counts Ava: she isn't good for them right now, clearly Ava: maybe she does get to just walk away, regardless of it being unfair James: you're right, clearly James: I'm sorry, it's been a really long day Ava: It really has Ava: what are you doing to wind down? James: I don't know James: what do you suggest? Ava: Depends Ava: you could try to fit in your blue bath Ava: cook yourself your favourite food Ava: we could watch a movie or some really mindless trash TV James: Beautiful Creatures or Beastly are supposedly a must for Twilight fans James: if you've seen those, there's also The Mortal Instruments but I'm not sure how many of those books got made into films James: it feels unwise to risk getting invested in a neverending cliffhanger Ava: I think they made that one into a bad TV series too, after the films bombed Ava: could be an exercise in how not to do it Ava: as well as relaxing James: really? James: well that's settled Ava: I bet it has such a sub-par soundtrack too James: compared to what we're used to, what wouldn't be? Ava: Precisely Ava: after the day we've had, can't be dealing with that level of excitement James: enough that I don't immediately fall asleep after pressing play will be fine Ava: I'll fill you in on the travesties if you do James: no, after the day we've had, I want to spend time with you Ava: I love you James: I love you too

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

What do you mean this isn’t what happened? I must have been watching a different episode .... ;)

All around her is white and Jemma jerks upright with a start, clawing at the whiteness tangled around her. She stops fighting when she realizes that her enemy is a fluffy comforter and that she's kicking against sheets tangled around her feet. She pushes the blankets away, breathing heavily as she stares at the room around her. She's not on the Zephyr anymore and she's definitely not back at the base. 'Relief' isn't exactly the word that she would use to discover that the plan to get into the Framework has worked; it's more like a begrudging sense of resignation.

Jemma glances around, trying to figure out where her Framework avatar has been placed by the Powers That Be outside of the Framework. She tries to imagine what it must be like for May and Coulson and Fitz and the others, to wake up in this new reality and have no idea that they belong somewhere else.

She doesn't recognize this place. It's nice, quiet and comfortable; she hasn't had a bedroom this big since she left for the Academy. Jemma tries to recognize herself in the décor, tries to find something to suggest that all of this is just programming and coding but it looks real and she can see subtle touches of her tastes in the colors and paintings on the wall.

The bathroom door rattles and Jemma immediately turns her attention back to the more important task at hand, mainly the fact that she's essentially in enemy territory and she can't afford to let her guard down for one instant. There's no telling what story, what reality, has been programmed for her; there's no telling what Aida and Radcliffe imagined for her when they imagined her to be the type of person who would prefer to live in a virtual world. She needs to stay alert and aware; she needs to find Daisy and start unraveling this place piece by piece.

The door swings open and suddenly Jemma is staring at Daisy. Jemma's assumption that Daisy is just part of the Framework is quickly disproven by the equally surprised expression that she sees on Daisy's face. She wasn't expecting to come out of the bathroom and see her either which means that this is Daisy, her Daisy, the one that she fought for her life with, the only person she would trust in this place.

Daisy is wearing a bathrobe, her hair damp and falling in tangles; her cheeks are flushed and Jemma can see a hint of color creeping across the swatch of skin left exposed by the hastily donned robe. For the briefest of moments, it all goes quiet in Jemma's head.

It doesn't last long. "Are you…" Daisy's voice is tentative, cautious, hopeful.

"Me?" Jemma nods quickly. "Yes. I…well I suppose so."

Daisy looks relieved, running a hand through her damp hair. "So totally not fair. I almost drowned waking up in a bathtub and you're all nice and cozy in bed."

Well that at least explains the wet hair and the flushed skin. Daisy seems to consider her words. "Why are you in bed?"

Jemma lifts an eyebrow. "Do you mean why am I laying around at a time like this or why am I in a bed that is in a room that we appear to share?"

The flush creeps up toward Daisy's neck as she nods. "Yeah," she says. "That one."

Jemma gets out of bed, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpeting of the bedroom. She's not wearing much of anything: shorts, a tank top. She can feel Daisy watching her and trying not to. "Well maybe we both entered the Framework in the same place since we had to hack our way in."

Daisy frowns, toying with the tie of her robe to give herself something else to look at. "We were pretty careful about linking ourselves up the avatars that had already been created. The coding was perfect, if I do say so myself," she says with false modesty. "We should have gone where we'd already been programmed to be, not to the same place just because we put ourselves into the Framework."

Jemma gives the room another quick glance again; there's no denying that it looks like the type of place she would have decorated for herself. "Maybe something went wrong somehow and-"

"I don't think so," Daisy says and Jemma turns to look at her, to see why she sounds so certain. Daisy is holding up a picture, one in an ornately glided frame and it takes Jemma a second to realize what she's looking at. It's a picture of her and Daisy, both dressed in ridiculously flowing white dresses.

Jemma looks down at her hand, surprised that she didn't notice the gold band circling her finger before. Suddenly it feels like the only thing that she can see. "Oh."

Daisy puts the picture aside quickly and Jemma can see the glint of something on her finger. They stare at one another and Jemma can't remember ever sharing a silence with Daisy that might be considered uncomfortable. It just doesn't fit their relationship; she's always been at ease around her, always found something to talk about, always enjoyed a companionable silence. The heavy quiet now…it lays heavy in her chest but Jemma feels like any words she might say are lodged tightly in her throat, locked away.

Married. To Daisy. Jemma curls her fingers into a fist but it does little to hide the band around her ring finger. She looks away, suddenly afraid that her face gives her away, that her expression will tell Daisy all her secrets.

Daisy clears her throat. "I…I'm going to go explore the rest of the house. And then we can start making a plan."

Jemma nods, listening as Daisy crosses the room and the door clicks shut behind her. She exhales slowly and her cheeks are hot, prickling with embarrassment. She's just woken up in a virtual reality to find that she's married to Daisy and the only thing she could think to say was 'oh.' Oh. Honestly Jemma doesn't know what's worse: the fact that she couldn't think of anything to say to Daisy or the fact that the idea of being married to her actually sounds perfect and wonderful and every bit like the perfect reality that the LMD Fitz had promised when trying to drag her into the Framework.

Sighing, Jemma shakes her head, moving toward the closet, rooting around until she finds something that looks like something she would wear. The clothes look unfamiliar and strange, not the type of things that SHIELD agents would have in their closet unless a mission called for a bright summer dress or a printed skirt.

Jemma finds Daisy sitting at the kitchen table in a bright, immaculately clean, large kitchen. Daisy's back is to her and Jemma can see that she's fidgeting with the wedding band, twisting it around and around on her finger. There's another picture of them on the counter and in it Jemma is smiling at the camera while Daisy is kissing her cheek. She feels a twinge of jealousy for the version of herself in the photograph. How often has she thought about what it would feel like to have Daisy's lips against her skin?

Daisy glances over her shoulder and drops her hand away from the wedding band, a guilty expression crossing her face. "Hey." She gets to her feet. "You look…" She gives Jemma the once over.

"I know," Jemma grumbles, feeling oddly out of place in her jeans and sheer, flowing blouse. "I couldn't find any tactical gear or button-ups." She means it to be a joke but it falls a little flat.

Daisy lifts her eyebrows. "I think everything is different here," she remarks. "I don't think we're SHIELD agents or…agents at all. I think…I don't have my powers here."

Jemma looks at her. "Are you sure?" It's probably a stupid question but she finds herself asking it anyway. "Have you tried?"

Daisy shrugs. "I don't have to. I can just…I feel it. Like something is missing." She shrugs and then holds up a hand anyway, pointing her palm at a glass sitting on the counter. Nothing, not even a rattle.

"It's just…gone." Daisy shakes her head, lowering her hand. "It's like everything here is…normal. Like we're normal."

Jemma scrunches up her nose, considering the possibility. "Fitz did mention that the Framework was supposed to be like this perfect alternative version of reality, where life was exactly as we wanted it to be without regrets."

"So in this 'perfect reality' we're normal, I'm not an Inhuman and we…we're…married," Daisy sums up and Jemma can hear the forced flatness to her tone like she's trying to list these things like they have nothing to do with either of them.

Jemma nods, clearing her throat. "It would seem that way."

Again, the silence stretches between them.

"Whose perfect reality are we in?" Daisy questions, shifting back on the balls of her feet. She leans against the counter, hiding the photograph of the two of them from view. Jemma kinda misses it, misses the happy moment captured between them.

Jemma can only shake her head. "Well since we both woke up here when we entered the Framework it would be seem like…it's a sort of shared reality?"

Daisy studies her closely and Jemma lifts her gaze to meet her eyes. "Jemma, what's your greatest regret?"

The words feel stuck in her throat again and Daisy's words, quiet and soft, sound like a challenge in this big kitchen. Jemma thinks about shaking her head, about denying that this has any bearing in her reality but she's surprised when a single word passes her lips: "You."

Immediately, Jemma wants to take it back. Not because it isn't true but because she doesn't want Daisy to think that she means anything by it other than the fact that what she regrets, more than anything, is that she's never told Daisy how she feels about her.

But Daisy seems to understand anyway. Because she's moving closer and she's there when Jemma reaches for her and in some back corner of her mind Jemma knows that this isn't real. But Daisy feels real underneath her hands and she can feel Daisy's hands in her hair, can feel her fingers curled around the nape of her neck and it's like she's always hoped it might be and it feels real, irrefutably so, when she kisses her.

Daisy sighs into her mouth and the sound is so quiet, a soft sound of relief and longing and Jemma pulls her closer and kisses her harder and she can feel her heart beating heavily in her chest and it only makes it harder to pretend like this isn't real, like this isn't just happening in her head.

And honestly, right now, Jemma doesn't care if it is or not.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jemma keeps her eyes closed, trying to lay perfectly still. Daisy is kissing the smattering of freckles across her shoulders, her lips featherlight as they move across her skin. If she pretends to be asleep then she thinks this moment might never end; she thinks that maybe Daisy will just keep kissing her, mapping out the patterns on her body with lips and fingertips.

Daisy presses a kiss against Jemma's neck and the jig is up. She laughs, twisting out of reach. "That tickles."

She looks up at Daisy, reaching for her. Daisy comes easily, leaning down to kiss her and Jemma cards her fingers through Daisy's hair, sliding her hand down the curve of her shoulder. Her skin is different here: smooth and unblemished by bruises and cuts and scars. She wonders about these versions of themselves, wonders what they've seen, what they've done, wonders if things were as hard for them as they have been in their reality.

Daisy seems to sense her thoughts because she asks, "What do you think it would be like? To be like this?"

Jemma reaches up to touch her face. She can't seem to help herself, can't seem to keep her hands off Daisy, desperate to memorize the way her skin and body feel against her own. "What do you mean?"

Daisy shrugs, suddenly looking sheepish. "Nothing. Never mind." She moves away, laying back onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. She sighs, looking over at Jemma. "If we were normal. No SHIELD, no powers just…us."

Jemma makes a thoughtful noise. "Well…it wouldn't be us exactly without those things," she points out and Daisy gives her a look. Jemma smiles. "But I know what you mean," she relents. "It would be…strange. It's never been like that, has it?"

Daisy laughs. "Uh, no." She smiles, sighing wistfully. "It is kind of nice to think about the fact that in any universe we would have somehow managed to find each other, SHIELD or not."

Jemma presses her lips to Daisy's shoulder, closing her eyes. There's so much they should be doing, so much they need to be doing. Their team needs them but this…Jemma needs this. And is that so wrong? Can't she put herself first for once? Hasn't she earned it?

When Daisy kisses her, all her doubts are erased just like that. It's easy.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Jemma wakes up the following morning in Daisy's arms, she realizes how perfect Radcliffe's Framework really is. There's a story she studied in school before the Academy, a staple of any study of Greek Mythology. She hadn't truly understood it then, too wrapped up in her constant desire to move forward, to learn, to get her hands on everything she could. But now…now Jemma understands the Lotus Eaters perfectly and how easy it would be to stay there forever.

It's not real. It's all in her mind. There's Fitz to think about and Coulson and May and the team. But there's Daisy and there's a perfect reality built just for the two of them where there's no death, no violence, no worry that they might never see each other again.

Jemma snuggles closer to Daisy, closing her eyes, trying to push the thoughts out of her mind. But it's getting harder and harder to ignore the guilt, the ever present knowledge that there's something else they should be doing.

It's hard because this is all Jemma can ever imagine wanting to do.

But it's somehow easier when Daisy is the one who brings it up later when they're both in the kitchen cooking a late breakfast. Daisy wears her guilt easily on her face, avoiding Jemma's eyes. "I keep thinking about the others," she confesses as she cracks an egg on the side of the pan. "I keep thinking that we should be doing something else, that we need to be helping them, getting out of this place."

Jemma feels disappointment settle over her even as she nods. "I know," she admits. "We need…we can't stay here forever."

Daisy opens her mouth but doesn't say anything, shaking her head instead. She's silent for a minute, focusing on breakfast like it's the most important thing she's ever done. Finally her gaze inches back toward Jemma. "I know it's not real," she says softly. "But I don't care."

Jemma moves closer to her, slipping her arms around Daisy's waist. "It doesn't matter," she says. "It might not be real here but outside of here, later, once we've saved the team, again," she teases and Daisy smiles slightly, "and stopped Aida and Radcliffe then…it can still be real."

Daisy nods, pressing her forehead to Jemma's. "Yeah," she says softly. "It can."

Jemma kisses her and Daisy smiles against her lips. "The team better really appreciate all the sacrifices we made for them," she remarks, sounding extremely put-out.

Well, Jemma can't help but agree with that. But they can't stay here forever; as real as all of this feels, it isn't and she's getting tired of just being with Daisy in her mind. She wants the real Daisy, bumps and bruises and scars and all. She wants their small bunks back at the base. She wants long stretches of time and quick stolen moments. She doesn't need a perfect reality free of stress and death and violence. She just needs Daisy.