#you guys ever have to hold a flashlight for your dad while he's working? yeah that's deimos here

[cyanide-capsules]

there are so many mpn2 dialogs that I find extremely funny but this one specifically is just great

So either he can lift the car with one arm and change the tire with the other

OR

He lifts the car with his legs and uses his arms to change the tire

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Bad Day At Black Rock

Masterlist

"Because Demon, that's why. I mean the second you find out this Ruby chick is a Demon you go for the holy water! You don't chat!" Dean yelled at Sam as we ride down the quiet dark road. "No one was chatting, Dean." Sam said, defensively.

"Oh yeah? Then why didn't you send her ass back to Hell?" I asked Sam. "Because - Because she said she might be able to help us out!" Sam exclaims. "How?" Dean asked and Sam pauses. "No really, Sam, how? How could she possibly help us?" Dean asked him again. "She told me she could help you, OK? Help you out of the crossroads deal." Sam replied and Dean looks at Sam, incredulously, while my jaw drops.

"Wait, really?" I asked and Sam nods. "What is wrong with you, huh? She's lying, you gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is – it's me." Dean yells at him then sighs. "What else did she say?" He asked but Sam stays silent.

"Dude?" Dean said. "Nothing. Nothing, OK?! Look I'm not an idiot guys, I'm not talking about trusting her, I'm talking about using her. I mean we're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy; we don't know where they are, we don't know what they're doing. I mean, hell, we don't know what they want. Now this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now yes, it's a risk, I know that, but we need to take it." Sam said to us.

"You're okay right, I mean you're feeling okay?" I asked Sam. "Yes I'm fine, Why are you guys always asking me that?" Sam asked me, annoyed, when a phone starts ringing. Sam sighs and reaches for his own. "It's not mine." Sam said and I start to reach for my phone to see that my phone wasn't ringing. 

"Not me." I said while Dean goes for his. "Nope." He said then he pauses. "Check the glove compartment, it's Dad's." Dean said.

"Dad's?" Sam asked.

"Yes, I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call." Dean said and Sam opens the glove compartment, and finds John's phone and answers it.

"Hello? Yes...this is Edgar Casey...No! No, no, no, don't – don't call the police, I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just uh, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Uhm, I- I uh, I don't have my - my book in front of me..." Sam said then he gestures to me for a pen and I hand him one. "...do you- do you have the address so I can...Sure, OK. Go ahead. Right, thanks a lot." Sam said and he ends the call.

"Dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?" Sam asked Dean. "What?" Dean said, confused. "Outside of Buffalo?" Sam asked. "No way." Dean said. "Yeah. And someone just broke into it." Sam said.

"Man..." Dean said as we walk into this abandoned building. "What?" Sam asked as we go towards the elevator and enter inside of it. "Just Dad. You know him and his secrets. Spend all this time with the guy and it's like we barely even know the man." Dean replied as the elevator goes down. "Well, we're about to learn something." I said just as the elevator stops.

We exit the elevator and find the storage container. Dean unlocks the padlock and opens the sliding door, the three of us with flashlights at the ready. On the dusty floor of the container is a symbol drawn in red, along with several bloody footprints.

"No demons allowed." Sam mutters. "Blood. Check this out." Dean said and he holds up a tripwire which is attached to a shotgun hidden in a large animal skull. "Whoever broke in here got tagged." I said. "Dear old Dad. I got two sets of boot treads here, looks like it was a two-man job. And our friend with the buckshot in him looks like he kept walking." Dean said.

"So what's the deal? Dad would do work here or something?" Sam asked. "Living the high life, as usual." Dean said as we venture further inside. "Do you think your dad knew about this?" Sam asked me. "It's a possibility, he just never told me." I said as Dean aims his flashlight on a skull and shakes his head, laughing. Sam looks over a desk while I pick up a trophy from a shelf, scraping the dust off.

"1995." I said and Sam turns to look at it. "No way! That's my Division Championship soccer trophy. I can't believe he kept this." Sam said as he looks at the trophy. "Yeah...It was probably about the closest you ever came to being a boy." Dean said and I smiled when Dean found something.

"Oh, wow! It's my first sawed-off. I made it myself. Sixth grade." Dean said, happily, and he laughs and pumps the shotgun. Sam moves further into the container and opens a door to a back room, the chain on the door has been cut.

The boys and I enter and pass pur flashlights over the scene. "Holy crap. Look at this, he had land mines...Which they didn't take. Or the guns." Dean said. "I guess they knew what they were after, huh?" I said when Sam speaks up.

"Hey guys, check this out. See these symbols? That's binding magic. These are curse boxes." Sam said as he shows us some boxes with some symbols on it. "Curse boxes? Th – they're supposed to keep the evil mojo in, right, kinda like the Pandora deal?" Dean asked. "Yeah. Yeah, they're built to contain the power of the cursed object." I said.

"Well Dad's journal did mention a whole bunch of stuff, you know? Dangerous hexed items, fetishes...He never did say where they ended up." Dean said. "Yeah. Well this must be his toxic waste dump." Sam said then he notices a rectangular shape in the dust and runs his finger along the dust. "One box is missing...Great." Sam grumbles.

"Well maybe they didn't open it." Dean said, shrugging.

We pull up in the alley beside an apartment block, next to another car. Dean leans out and checks the car's plates, which was next to us. "Connecticut. Last three digits 880." He said. "Yep, that's it." Sam said and I click my tongue. "Should've blacked out their plates before they parked in front of the security camera..." I said, shaking my head, and we head out.

We break into the apartment, armed, and sneak inside. Eventually, we come to a door, that was opened, and we see a couple of men inside playing cards. Then the three of us burst into the room, our guns drawn.

"FREEZE, FREEZE! NOBODY MOVE!" Dean yells.

"Don't move!" Sam shouted.

"DON'T MOVE!" I screamed.

"What is this?" One guy said as he and his friend stand up. "STOP!" Sam yells at him as we aim our guns at him. "All right, give us the box. And please tell me that you didn't–" Dean said and I look over and see that the box was opened.

"Oh they did." I said and Dean looks at it then over to the men. "You opened it?!" Dean asked then he shoves one of the men against the wall.

"Are you guys cops?" The guy asked, in a panic. "Huh?" Dean asked. "ARE YOU GUYS COPS?!" The guy asked again. "What was in the box?" Dean asked him and the guy glances over at the coffee table where a rabbit's foot sits. "Oh, was that is, huh? It was wasn't it?" Dean asked then he looks over at me and Sam. "What is that thing?" He asked then the guy uses Dean's distraction to knock the gun from his hand.

It falls to the floor, causing it to fire. The bullet ricochets off a radiator and hits mine and Sam's guns, causing us to drop it. The same bullet then ricochets again and breaks a lamp. Sam and the other guy go for Sam's gun while I go for my gun.

The guy pushes Sam into Dean, who falls back on the coffee table, launching the rabbit's foot into the air. "Sorry!" Sam said and I go to grab my gun but the second guy throws himself at me, sending us to the floor, and then starts punching me in the face.

I try to stop him when Sam grabs the guy off of me and they started fighting. I get up just as the first guy grabs Dean's gun and picks it up and aims it at Sam. Dean tries to go after him but the guy hits him and I go after the guy but he knocks me down as well.

"Guys! I got it!" Sam yells then the first guys moves forward and cocks Dean's gun in Sam's face. "No you don't." The guy said and the second man gets his hands on Sam's gun while the first pulls the trigger on Sam, the gun jams.

The guy panics and tries to clear the chamber, while Dean and I get up and try to stop him. The first guy is surprised and stumbles back, tripping over a rug and falling back over the couch, knocking himself out. Sam, Dean and I look at each other, confused, as the second guy gets up and tries to point the gun at Sam.

"SAM!" Dean and I shouted as the second guy moves, but then the books on the bookshelves behind him suddenly fall off and onto his head, knocking him out cold. Sam's gun flies out of his hand and Sam catches it while Dean and I look at this, astounded.

"That was a lucky break!" I said as I pick up my gun. "Is that a rabbit's foot?!" Dean asked and Sam holds up the small rabbit's foot. "I think it is." He said. "Huh." Dean and I said.

Dean walks over to the Impala with a paper bag in his hands. He gets in while Sam and I were inside the car. Dean takes something out of the bag. "I'm not finding anything on it in Dad's journal." Sam said as Dean holds up several scratch cards in front of Sam.

"Dean, come on." Sam said, exasperated. "What?! Hey, that was my gun he was aiming at your head, and my gun don't jam. So that was a lucky break. Not to mention them taking themselves out, also a lucky break. Here, scratch one. C'mon Sam, scratch and win!" Dean said as he hands over a coin and a card. Sam scratches it.

"Dean, it's gotta be cursed somehow. Otherwise Dad wouldn't have locked it up." Sam said and he hands the card back. "$1200...You just won $1200!" Dean exclaims and he laughs and hollers. "I don't know, man, it doesn't seem that cursed to me!" Dean said as he hands Sam another card expectantly while I roll my eyes.

Later, Dean lays out 6 scratch cards on the hood of the Impala, calculating their winnings. "Oh, man!" Dean said while Sam was on the phone. "Now look Bobby, we didn't know." Sam said as I look over the card and shake my head.

"Well Dad never told us about this thing. I mean you knew about his storage place at Black Rock?" Sam asked and I look up at him and see Sam kneeling down and picking something up. He turns and shows us that he picked up a gold watch. Dean mouths "awesome!" while I give him a thumbs up.

"It's a hell of a luck charm." Sam said and he listens into his phone to what Bobby was telling him. "Well, so I won't lose it, Bobby. Well, then, how do we break the curse?" He asked as he places the rabbit's foot in his jacket pocket.

Then Sam hangs up then turns to us as Dean chuckles. "Dude! We're up fifteen grand!" Dean exclaims and Sam gives a half-smile, looking worried.

"Don't worry, Bobby'll find a way to break it. Until then I say we hit Vegas, pull a little Rain Man. You can be Rain Man." Dean said as we enter the restaurant. "Look, we just lay low until Bobby calls back, OK?" Sam said and I turn to the lady behind the desk. 

"Hi, uh, table for three please." I said. "CONGRATULATIONS!" The guy standing behind the lady shouts as an alarm goes off, making me and Sam jump. "It's exciting, I know." Dean mutters.

"You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson's Restaurant family!" The guy said and the staff start singing and taking photographs, balloons and streamers fall from the ceiling. Sam looks embarrassed while Dean looks ecstatic and I just roll my eyes.

Later, Sam is on his laptop while Dean is eating a bowl of ice cream, I sit next to Dean and drink my soda. "Bobby's right. This lore goes way back. Pure Hoodoo. You can't just cut one off any rabbit. Has to be in a cemetery, under a full moon, on a Friday the thirteenth." Sam said. "I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson's." Dean said then he is struck with brain freeze from the ice cream.

Sam and I laugh as a Waitress approaches our table with more coffee.

"Can I freshen you up?" She asked Sam. "Yeah, yeah sure. Thanks." Sam said and the waitress pours Sam more coffee but, smiling at him, until she spills some. "Oh!" She exclaims as the coffee spills all over the table. "Oh! Oh I uh-" Sam stutters.

"Let me mop up here." She said as she grabs some napkins and cleans up the table and Sam as some coffee got in him.  "No, no don't worry it's okay, It's okay- I got it, uh..." Sam said. "It's no trouble, really." The woman said. "Sorry about that." She said. "It's all right." Sam said as it seemed tha the waitress was flirting with Sam, who gives me and Dean a look.

The woman finishes cleaning up and walks away, looking over her shoulder as she goes and smiles. Sam and Dean both lean in and watch her retreating and I elbow Dean, who looks over at me and I raise an eyebrow at him. "What? You know you're the only girl for me." He said, trying to cover up. "Mmm hmm." I hummed as I keeping giving a look that said you're in trouble. 

He kissed my cheek and I roll my eyes but let a smirk play on my lips as he turns to Sam. "Dude. If you were ever gonna get lucky..." Dean said as he gestures after the waitress. "Shut up." Sam said, smirking, and he goes to pick up his coffee, but he knocks the cup over and manages to spill it all over the table and himself.

Sam jumps out of his seat. "Oh! Oh Geez, uh..." he exclaims and he turns and a waiter with a full tray crashes straight into him, sending things flying and causing a scene. Dean and I look at this in shock. "Sorry!" Sam said then he turns back to us.

"How was that good?" I asked and Sam searches his jacket pocket and comes up empty. The rabbit's foot is gone. "Son of a bitch." Dean growls and we run out of the restaurant.

"Come on!" I shout as we run out of the restaurant but then Sam falls flat on his face. Dean and I slow down and turn around. "Wow! You suck!" Dean said and we reach down and pick Sam up off the ground. "Ow..." Sam groans. "So what, now your luck turns bad?" I asked as I look down to see that Sam's jeans are torn at both knees, which are bloody and raw.

"I guess." Sam said. "I wonder how bad?" Dean asked and Sam gives us a look.

Later, we make our way back to the apartment and see that the door to the apartment is open. Dean and I walk in but Sam hangs back. "Oh, man. What do you want?" The thief groans at us as we come into his room.

"Heard about your friend. That's bad luck." Dean said. "Piss off." The guy growls at us. "We know someone hired you to steal the rabbit's foot. A woman." I said and he looks up at us. "Oh yeah? How do you know that?" The guy asked. "Because she just stole it back from us." Dean said and the guy laughs.

"Listen man, this is seri-" Sam said but as he steps forward and trips on a wire on the floor mid-sentence, pulling a CD player off a shelf and sending it and Sam crashing to the ground, and he takes out a lamp as he goes.

Dean and I just roll our eyes at this. "Sam, you OK?" Dean asked, calmly, not look at Sam. "Yeah, I'm good!" Sam said and he pulls himself up and the guy smirks. "I want you to tell us her name." Dean said to the guy. "Screw you." He spat at Dean

"It wasn't a freak accident that killed your partner." I said to him. "What?" The guy asked, shocked. "It was the rabbit's foot." I replied and he scoffs incredulously. "You're crazy, man." He said.

"You know she's not. You saw what happened, what it did. All the flukes, all the luck. When you lose the foot that luck goes sour. That's what killed your friend. And my brother here is next. And who knows how many more innocent people after that. Now if you don't help us stop this thing, that puts those deaths on your head." Dean said and the guy looks up at us, worried.

"Now I can read people...and I get it. You're a thief, and a scumbag, that's fine. But you're not a killer. Are you?" Dean asked him. "No." The guy whispers.

We exit the apartment block when Dean's phone starts ringing. "Hello?" Dean said when I hear a squishing noise. I look over and see Sam had lifted his shoe to see he stepped on bubblegum. "Bobby, that's uh, great, 'cept Sam, uh..." Dean said then he looks over at Sam and grimaces when Sam lifts his shoe.

"...Sam lost the foot. Bobby, Bobby, listen. This, uh, this hot chick stole it from him. I'm serious. In her mid 20's, and she was sharp you know, good enough at the con to play us." Dean said as Sam was trying to scrape the bubblegum off his shoe using a broken storm drain grating.

"And she only gave the guy she hired a name, probably an alias or something." Dean said then he turns to us. "Uh, Luigi or something?" He asked as Sam was still scraping his shoe off. "Lugosi." I corrected him then Dean turns to his phone.

"Lugosi." Dean said and I hear a splash behind me. I turn and see Sam was kneeling down to the storm drainage.

"Bela Lugosi? That's cute." Dean chuckles. "Well she knew about the rabbit's foot. Is she a Hunter?" He asked and there was a few moments of silence as he listens to Bobby. "Ah, I guess she's back. Great. Thanks, Bobby. Again." Dean said and he hangs up then he and I turn to look back at Sam, who looks thoroughly dejected, almost like a child who was told he couldn't have ice cream.

"What?" Dean asked him.

"I lost my shoe." Sam said, plaintively, and we look down at Sam's sock-clad foot and Dean sighs, annoyed, then rolls his eyes and turns away. Sam hangs his head and I give a sad smile towards him.

"All right, Bobby, thanks. Hey, we owe ya. Another one." Dean said into his phone as we pull up to a hotel. "All right, Bobby's got it on pretty good authority that this Bela chick...lives in Queens. So it'll take me about two hours to get there." Dean said to us.

"So what are we doing here?" Sam asked Dean.  You, my brother, are staying here 'cause I don't want your bad luck getting us killed." Dean said as we pull up to a parking lot.

Dean unlocks the door and leads Sam and I inside, turning on a light. "What am I even supposed to do, Dean?" Sam asked. "Nothing! Nothing. Come here. I don't want you doing anything. I want you to sit right here..." Dean said as he pulls a chair into the middle of the room. "...and don't move, OK? Don't turn on the light, don't turn off the light. Don't even scratch your nose." Dean said and I look over at him. 

"Do you want me to come with you?" I asked Dean. "No, I think it'd be better if you stay here and watch over him." Dean said and I nod at him. "Okay, well...please be careful." I said and I go to kiss him. He kisses me back then he goes to leave and closes the door behind him.

I look over at Sam and see him sitting the chair, looking down. I give a small frown before I sit down on one of the beds and turn the TV on to at least have some entertainment.

Later, I went into the bathroom for a bit but then I heard Sam exclaimed, despairingly. "Oh come on, I- I didn't- I wasn't..."

"Sam, what's wrong?" I asked and I walk out of the bathroom to see him messing with the air conditioner unit. "Sam, what are...?" I started to ask when I noticed that his jacket sleeve was on fire. "SAM!" I screamed and he sees his sleeve and panics. I run towards him to help but then as I got close to him his elbow hits me in the face and I fell to the floor, pass out.

I groan and open my eyes when I realized that I was duct taped to a chair. "Oh, they're awake!" An unknown male voice said and I look up to see two men standing before me. "Back with us, eh?" One of the guys said, smiling. I turn my head to the left and see Sam was tied up as well and waking up.

"We didn't even have to touch either of you. You just went all..." the first guy said to Sam as he wiggles. "...spastic, and knocked your friend and yourself out? It was like watching Jerry Lewis try to stack chairs!" The guy said.

"Who are you, What do you wa-" Sam started to ask but the second guy snaps his fingers in Sam's face. Sam and I look at him, confused. "I used to think your friend Gordon sent me." The second guy said and Sam and I look up at him, shocked. "Gordon?" We said, shocked, then I sighed. "Oh come on!" 

"Yeah, because he asked me to track both of you down, and put a bullet in both of your brains." The second guy said. "Great." Sam mutters and I scoff. "That sounds like him." I said. "But, as it turns out...I'm on a mission from God." The guy said then he strikes Sam across the face. "Hey! Leave him..." I started to say but the other guy hits me across the face too.

After the two men beat both Sam and I up for a bit, one of them throws a couple of glasses of water in our faces. We shake the water off of us while the second guy watches, sitting on one of the motel beds.

"You two were a part of that demon plan to open the gate weren't you?" He asked us. "We did everything we could to stop it." I replied. "Lie lie lie! Both of you were in on it. You two know what their next move is too, don't you?" The guy said, obviously getting annoyed at us. "No, we don't, okay? You're wrong about all of this." Sam said to him.

"Where are they gonna hit us next?" The guy asked us. Sam and I sigh and we stay silent and the other guy strikes us again. "WHERE?!" The first guy yells and we don't answer him. "Gordon told me about you two. About your powers. Both of you are some kinda weirdo psychic freaks?" The guy asked. "No, not any more. We – no powers, no visions, nothing, it just—" Sam said as I nod in agreement

"LIAR!" The guy yell and his friend punches us again. "Now no more lies. There's an army of demons out there pushing at a world already on the brink. We're on deck for the endgame here, right? So maybe, just maybe you can understand..." the guy said as he draws his gun. "...why we can't take chances." He said and he points his gun at Sam.

"Whoa, okay, okay, no, do— hold on a minute! —" I stammered, quickly, just as the guy's friend starts to intervene. "Hey, Kubrick just—" he said but then Kubrick turns to him, sharply. "No, you saw what happened, Creedy. Ask yourself, why are we here? Because you saw a picture on the web? Because we chose this motel instead of another? Luck like that doesn't just happen." He yells.

"Look, we can explain all of that if-" Sam said. "Shut up!" Kubrik yells as he points to Sam without turning around. Sam lets out a long-suffering sigh and I sit there, praying that Dean needs to hurry his ass up. "It's God, Creedy. He led us here for one reason. To do His work. This...is destiny."  Kubrik said to Creedy.

"Whoa..." a familiar voice said and Kubrick aims the gun point blank at my forehead while I squeeze my eyes shut. The sound of another gun being cocked was heard in the room and I open my eyes, slowly, to see that Dean had returned, aiming his gun at the men.

"Nope. No destiny. Just a rabbit's foot." Dean said to the men. "Put the gun down, son, or you're gonna be scraping brain off the wall." Kubrick said. "Oh, this thing?" Dean asked, playing dumb, as he holds up his gun. "Yeah, that thing." Kubrick said. "Okay. But you see, there's something about me that you don't know." Dean said as he puts his gun down, looking smug, then he picks up a pen sitting next to it.

"Yeah? What would that be?" Kubrick asked him. "It's my lucky day." Dean said and he tosses the pen toward Kubrick and it lodges itself in the barrel of Kubrick's gun, Sam and I look at this, impressed. "Oh my God, did you see that shot!?" Dean asked, laughing.

Creedy lunges at Dean and aims a punch but Dean easily side-steps and Creedt runs straight into the wall, falling backwards and hitting the floor. Kubrick stares at the pen in the barrel for a few moments before trying to dislodge it.

"I'm amazing." Dean exclaims as he  picks up the TV remote from the table and throws it hard at Kubri k, who is just about to aim for Dean. It hits Kubrick right between the eyes, knocking him out cold. He drops like a stone.

"I'm Batman." Dean said, suavely, and I snort at this. "Yeah. You're Batman." Sam said, sarcastically.

Later, Sam ws crouching down and sprinkling some stuff onto the embers of a small fire. Dean was checking over more scratch cards as I look over some of the scratch cards I bought which most of them were crap or okay cards. "All right. Bone ash, cayenne pepper, that should do it." Sam said.

"One second..." Dean said.

"Dean, you—" Sam started to say but Dean holds his hand out to him. "Hey, back off, Jinx. I'm bringing home the bacon." He said and Sam sighs. Dean smirks and stashes the cards in his jacket, which is slung over a gravestone.

"All right, say goodbye wascawy wabbit." Dean said as he holds up the rabbit's foot. Then we hear a gun being cocked and we look around to see a woman with long reddish-brown hair, aiming a gun at us. This had to be Bela.

"I think you'll find that belongs to me. Or, you know, whatever." She said to Dean. "Put the foot down, honey." She orders. "No. You're not going to shoot anybody. See I happen to be able to read people. OK, you're a thief, fine, but you're not—" Dean started to say but Bela ignores him and aims and fires her gun at Sam.

"Sam!" I screamed as Sam goes down, groaning. "Son of a—" Dean shouts as I check Sam over, only to see he was hit in the shoulder. "Back off, tiger. Back off. You make one more move and I'll pull the trigger." Bela threatened as I help Sam up while he clutches his shoulder.

"You've got the luck, Dean. You, I can't hit. But your brother and your little girlfriend? Them I can't miss." She said as Dean looks over at us then back at her. "What the hell is wrong with you?! You don't just go around shooting people like that!" He shouts at her. "Relax. It's a shoulder hit, I can aim. Besides, who here hasn't shot a few people?" She asked us. "Put the rabbit's foot on the ground now."

"All right! All right. Take it easy." Dean said and he goes to drop the rabbit's foot, but instead throws it at Bela. "Think fast." He said and she catches the foot and curses. "Damn!" She growls. "Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?" Dean asked and Bela sighs in annoyance.

Minutes later, Bela drops the rabbit's foot in the embers. "Thanks very much. I'm out one and a half million, and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer." She said. "Wow. I really don't feel bad about that. Sam? (Y/n)?" Dean said. "Nope." Sam said and I shake my head. "Not even a little." I remarked and Bela glares around at us.

"Hmm. Maybe next time I'll hang you out to dry." She said as she goes to lean on the gravestone where Dean's jacket is.

"Oh don't go away angry, just go away." I said to her and she smirks. "Have a nice night, boys and girl." She said as she walks away and the rabbit's foot burns in the fire.

"You good?" Dean asked Sam as we walk back to the car. "I'll live." Sam said. "I guess we're back to normal now, huh? No good luck, no bad luck." I said and Dean nods before he looks up. "Oh! I forgot we're up $46000. I almost forgot about the...scratch tickets." He said and he searches his jacket and comes up empty.

At that point, Bela's car roars in the distance as she honks her horn. Sam, Dean and I look at each other, then watch her drive away. "SON OF A BITCH!" Dean screams in anger and I smirk a bit.

"Actually, we're not too bad off." I said. "What do you mean?" Dean asked, angrily, and I pull out some of the scratch off tickets from my pocket. Both boys look at me, their eyes widen in shock. "I had a feeling she'd would try to steal something from us after we screwed her over. So, while you guys were getting ready to burn the foot, I went over to your jacket and switched out the tickets." I explained and Sam smiles at this.

"The ones she's got a couple of them are the winning tickets, you know, for the trouble we caused her but a good chunk of them are the ones I bought and they are either duds or a twenty-five dollar winners." I said and Dean smiles at this as Sam chuckles.

"Have I told you that I love you?" Dean said as he comes up to me and I hand him the tickets. "Oh every now and then." I said, smiling, then Dean leans in and kisses me. "Well, I love you." He said and I smiled at him then the three of us head over to the car.

@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester

[aspenmissing]

𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚁𝚘𝚌𝚔 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

The impala is traveling along a quiet, dark road. Sam, Dean and Y/N are arguing.

"Because Demon, that's why" Y/N snaps, looking at Sam in the rearview mirror, her hands gripping the steering wheel.

"I mean the second you find out that Ruby chick is a Demon you go for the holy water! You don't chat!"

"No one was chatting, Y/N" Sam says.

"Oh yeah? Then why didn't you send her ass back to hell?" Dean says.

"Because - Because she said she might be able to help us out!"

"How?" Sam pauses "No really, Sam, how? How could she possibly help us?" Y/N asks.

"She told me she could help you, Ok?" Sam says. Dean doesn't seem to get it but Y/N looks back to the road "Help you get out of the crossroads deal" Dean and Y/N shares a look before she looks at Sam incredulously.

"What is wrong with you, huh? She's lying, you gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is - it's me" She Pause "What else did she say?" Sam stays silent.

"Dude?" Dean says.

"Nothing" Sam pauses "Nothing, Ok?! Look I'm not an idiot Guys, I'm not talking about trusting her, I'm talking about using her. I mean we're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy; we don't know where they are, we don't know what they're doing. I mean, hell, we don't know what they want. Now this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now yes, it's a risk, I know that, but we need to take it"

"You’re okay right, I mean you're feeling, okay?" Y/N asks.

"Yes, I'm fine, why are you always asking me that?" A phone starts ringing. Sam sighs and reaches for his own.

"It's not mine" Y/N goes for hers.

"Not me, you" She asks, looking at Dean. He goes for his.

"Nope" Dean pauses "Check the glove compartment, it's Dad's"

"Dad's?" Sam asks.

"Yes, we keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call" Y/N says. She opens the glove compartment, finds John's phone and answers it.

"Hello? Yes...I'm Julia Casey, Edgar Caseys daughter...No! No, no, no, don't - don't call the police, I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just uh, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Uhm, I- I uh, I don't have my - my book in front of me" she gestures to Dean for a pen "do you- do you have the address so I can... Sure, OK. Go ahead. Right, thanks a lot" Y/N ends the call "Dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?"

"What?" Sam asks.

"Outside of Buffalo?"

"No way" Dean says shaking his head.

"Yeah. And someone just broke into it"

==

The three are in an elevator

"Man..." Dean scoffs.

"What?" Sam and Y/N ask in unison.

"Just Dad. You know him and his secrets. Spend all this time with the guy and it's like we barely even know the man"

"Well, we're about to learn something" Sam says.

"Hopefully good" Y/N says. The three exit the elevator and find the storage container. Y/N unlocks the padlock and opens the sliding door, the three with flashlights at the ready. On the dusty floor of the container is a symbol drawn in red, along with several bloody footprints.

"No demons allowed"

"Blood" Y/N holds up a tripwire which is attached to a shotgun hidden in a large animal skull "Check this out"

"Whoever broke in here got tagged" Dean says.

"Dear old Dad. I got two sets of boot treads here, like it was a two-man job. And out friend with the buckshot in him looks like he kept walking" Y/N says.

"So, what's the deal? Dad would go work here or something?"

"Living the high life, as usual" Sam, Dean and Y/N venture further inside. Dean aims his flashlight on the skull and shakes his head, laughing. Sam looks over a desk while Y/N picks up a trophy from a shelf, scraping the dust off.

"1995" She reads. Sam comes over and Y/N passes him the trophy.

"No way" He looks at it "That's my Division Championship soccer trophy. I can't believe he kept this"

"Yeah...it was probably about the closest you ever came to being a boy" Dean wanders over to another find "Oh, wow! It's my first sawed-off. I made it myself. Sixth grade" Dean laughs and pumps the shotgun.

"Yeah...no. You asked me to help you" Y/N says, looking through a box. Y/N suddenly screams as a hand is around her neck, Dean and Sam rush over to help her, bringing out their guns. Before they could shoot, she starts to laugh. She pulls away and the fake bloody hand is in her hand.

"You asshole" Dean says, putting away his gun, followed by Sam who starts to walk away.

"Man, I used to scare the hell out of you with this" She throws the hand away and they continue to look around. Sam moves further into the container and opens a door to a back room. The chain on the door has been cut. Y/N, Sam and Dean enter and move their flashlights around the room.

"Holy crap. Look at this, he had land mines.... Which they didn't take. Or the guns" Dean says.

"I guess they knew what they were after huh" Y/N says. Sam spots boxes inscribed with symbols on a far shelf.

"Hey guys, check this out. See these symbols? That's binding magic. These are cursed boxes"

"Cursed boxes? Th- they're supposed to keep the evil mojo in, right, kinda like the Pandora deal?" Dean says.

"Yeah. Yeah, they're built to contain the power of the cursed object"

"Well Dad's journal did mention a whole bunch of stuff, you know? Dangerous hexed items, fetishes ... He never did say where they ended up" Y/N says.

"Yeah. Well, this must be his toxic waste dump." Sam notices a rectangular shape in the dust and runs his finger along the dust "One box is missing... Great"

"Well maybe they didn't open it" Dean says.

"You keep telling yourself that"

==

Sam, Dean, and Y/N pull up in the alley beside an apartment block, next to another car. Dean leans out and checks the car's plate.

"Connecticut. Last three digits 880," He says.

"Yep, that's it," Sam replies.

"Should've blacked out their plates before they parked in front of the security camera..." Y/N says as she and Dean share a look, smirking. Sam, Dean, and Y/N break into the apartment, armed, and sneak inside.

"Royal Flush. Grossman, that’s the second Royal Flush in eight hands," a man says.

"Yeah, this is a lot of fun," Grossman says.

"I can't lose. I mean really, I - I can't lose!" The man grabs the rabbit's foot. "Maybe this thing really works? You know what I'm saying? Ah - I tell you something there's no way in Hell we are handing it over to that stuck-up bitch now, not after all we've been through. Uh uh. Let's go, huh? Let's get out of here, let's go have some fun." Dean, Sam, and Y/N burst into the room, guns drawn.

"Freeze, Freeze! Nobody Move!" Dean shouts.

"Don't move," the two guys start to back away.

"Don't move!" Y/N shouts.

"What is this?" Wayne asks.

"Stop!"

"All right, give us the box. And please tell me that you didn't-" Y/N is cut off by Sam.

"Oh, they did."

"You opened it?!" Dean says, shoving Wayne against the wall.

"Are you guys cops?" He asks.

"Huh?" Dean snaps.

"Are you guys cops?!"

"What was in the box?" Dean asks. Wayne glances over at the coffee table where the rabbit's foot sits, the twins following his gaze.

"Oh, was that it? It was, wasn't it?" She speaks.

"What is that thing?" Dean asks. Wayne uses Dean's distraction to knock the gun from his hand. It falls to the floor, causing it to fire. The bullet ricochets off a radiator and hits Sam's gun, causing him to drop it. The then ricochets off his gun to Y/N, which grazes off her hand.

"Son of a bitch!" Y/N shouts in surprise and she drops her gun to hold her hand. The same bullet then ricochets again and breaks a lamp. Sam and Grossman both go for Sam's gun. Grossman pushes Sam into Dean. He falls back on the coffee table, breaking it and launching the rabbit's foot into the air.

"Sorry!" Sam says. Grossman throws himself at Y/N, sending the two to the floor, and then starts punching Y/N in the face. Wayne goes for Dean's gun. As he picks it up and aims for Y/N, he hits Dean, who had just gotten up, square in the chin, knocking him down again. Grossman begins to strangle Y/N. She desperately tries to reach for her gun. "Guys, I got it," Sam calls, the rabbit's foot in his hand. Y/N manages to stretch her hand enough to reach her gun and hits Grossman in the head, making him let go of her head. She kicks him into the wall behind him and he falls to the floor, she lays back onto the floor to catch her breath. Wayne moves forward and cocks Dean's gun in Sam's face.

"No, you don't," Wayne says as he tries to shoot Sam, only for his gun to jam. He panics and tries to clear the chamber. Dean gets up and then pulls Y/N to her feet, and the two try to stop him. Wayne is surprised and stumbles back, tripping over a rug and falling back over the couch. He knocks himself out. Sam, Dean, and Y/N share a look, confused. Grossman has got his hands on Sam's gun and tries to point it at Sam.

"Sam!" Y/N shouts. As Grossman moves, the books on the bookshelves behind him suddenly fall off and onto his head, knocking him out cold. Sam's gun flies out of his hand and Sam catches it. The twins look at him astounded.

"That was a lucky break!" Y/N pauses. "Is that a rabbit's foot?!" Sam holds it up.

"I think it is."

"Huh."

==

Dean walks over to the Impala with a paper bag in his hand and gets in. Sam and Y/N are inside. Y/N's hand has been wrapped up due to being grazed by the bullet. Dean takes something out of the bag.

"I'm not finding anything on it in Dad's journal," Y/N says. Dean holds up several scratch cards in front of Sam.

"Dean, come on."

"What?! Hey, that was my gun he was aiming at your head, and my gun don't jam. So that was a lucky break. Not to mention them taking themselves out, also a lucky break. Here, scratch one. C'mon Sam, scratch and win!" Dean hands over a coin and a card. Sam scratches it.

"Dean, it's gotta be cursed somehow. Otherwise, Dad wouldn't have locked it up," Sam hands the card back, Y/N looks over.

"$1200...You just won $1200," She says. Dean and Y/N laugh and holler.

"I don't know, man, it doesn't seem that cursed to me!" Dean hands Sam another card expectantly. Later Dean lays out 6 scratch cards on the hood of the Impala, calculating their winning.

"Oh, man!" Dean laughs. He looks to Y/N who is sat on the hood "Dude, we're up fifteen grand," She laughs.

"Man, we need to go to Vegas," She jokes. The two laugh before looking at Sam, who is on the phone to Bobby, who bends down to pick something up. He turns to show the twins a gold watch. Y/N opens her mouth in shock.

"Awesome!" Dean mutters to him with a smirk. Sam puts the rabbit's foot in his jacket pocket before ending his call.

"Dude! We're up fifteen grand," Dean says. Sam gives a half-smile, looking worried, which didn't go unnoticed by Y/N.

==

The three enter a restaurant.

"Don't worry, Bobby will find a way to break it," Y/N says.

"Until then I say we hit Vegas, pull a little Rain Man. You can be Rain Man," Dean says looking at Sam.

"Look, we just lay low until Bobby calls back, OK?" Sam turns to the restaurant owner "Hi, uh, table for three please."

"Congratulations!" The restaurant owner shouts. An alarm goes off.

"It's exciting, I know," Dean says.

"You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson's Restaurant family!" Staff start singing and taking photographs. Balloons and streamers fall from the ceiling. Sam looks embarrassed while Dean and Y/N look ecstatic. Later the three are sat at a table. Sam is on his laptop. Dean is eating a bowl of ice cream and Y/N is drinking a milkshake.

"Bobby's right. This lore goes way back. Pure Hoodoo. You can't just cut one off any rabbit. Has to be in a cemetery, under a full moon, on a Friday the thirteenth."

"I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson's," Dean says.

"They have the best milkshakes," Y/N says. Dean is struck with brain freeze from the ice cream. Sam and Y/N laugh as a waitress approaches their table with more coffee.

"Can I freshen you up?" She asks Sam.

"Yeah, yeah sure. Thanks," The waitress pours Sam more coffee but, smiling at him, spills some.

"Oh!"

"Oh! Oh, I uh-"

"Let me mop up here."

"No, no don't worry it's okay, it's okay- I got it, uh..."

"It's no trouble, really," The waitress says.

"Okay."

"Sorry about that."

"It's all right," Sam says. The waitress appears to be flirting with Sam. Sam gives Dean and Y/N a look. The waitress finishes cleaning up and walks away, looking over her shoulder as she goes and smiles. Sam and Dean both lean in and watch her retreating.

"Dude. If you ever gonna get lucky..." Sam smirks.

"Shut up."

"Girls, behave," Y/N says, drinking her milkshake. Sam goes to pick up his coffee, knocks the cup over and manages to spill it all over the table and himself. Sam jumps out of his seat.

"Oh! Oh Geez, uh," Sam turns and a waiter with a full tray crash straight into him, sending things flying and causing a scene. Dean and Y/N look shocked "Sorry!" Sam turns to Y/N and Dean.

"How was that good?" Dean asks. Sam searches his jacket pocket and comes up empty, realizing the rabbit foot’s gone.

"Son of a bitch," Y/N says and she and Dean rush to get out of the seats.

[memeingovermemes]

the blackout club -- sentence starters ( ii ) :

feel free to change titles / pronouns / places where appropriate !

❝  can we go already?  ❞ ❝  come on! before i lose my nerve...  ❞ ❝  game faces... let's do this!  ❞ ❝  if you guys need me, i'm there.  ❞ ❝  i'm ready. i mean... reluctantly.  ❞ ❝  ready, you guys ready?  ❞ ❝  ready?  can we please do a cool slo-mo walk this time?  ❞ ❝  while we're young, maybe?  ❞ ❝  can't do much, but i can aim.  ❞ ❝  i best not miss.  ❞ ❝  i am the night! ...kinda. i'm... night flavored.  ❞ ❝  sure. i drank three sodas and climbed a rope... once.  ❞ ❝  what?  i like heights.  ❞ ❝  i want the shocker... heh.  ❞ ❝  stun gun's rechargeable, so...  ❞ ❝  club's calling, y'all.  ❞ ❝  focus, guys, new mission.  ❞ ❝  new message from the club.  ❞ ❝  gotta catch my breath...  ❞ ❝  (panting) hang on! hang on, hang on... ❞ ❝ h-hold up! ...i'm wrecked...  ❞ ❝  i gotta' rest a sec...  ❞ ❝  i'll be -- i'll be okay...! i think...  ❞ ❝  two seconds... okay, ten seconds...  ❞ ❝  knock it off!  ❞ ❝  flashlights down! i'm gonna' take that thing away!  ❞ ❝  get that light off me!  ❞ ❝  hey! you're lighting me up!  ❞ ❝  don't wanna' die down here. just give me a nice... breakfast nook!❞ ❝  how long did it take them to build this place...?  ❞ ❝  how far down are we...? never mind. don't tell me.  ❞ ❝  i know this place...  ❞ ❝  i love this, just loving this! the darkness, the dirt, and cold. it's like an evil spa.  ❞ ❝  i'm not scared... just living my best life.  ❞ ❝  it's all real. this is... real.  ❞ ❝  it's like a real life dungeon...  ❞ ❝  i've seen this before... dreams, but... not mine...  ❞ ❝  looks like a... what does it look like?  ❞ ❝  sleepwalkers built this? how in god's name...  ❞ ❝  the place feels, uh... familiar.  ❞ ❝  this place... why with this place?  ❞ ❝  wonderful... back down here.  ❞ ❝  stuff happens, parents worry, that's how it works. haha.  ❞ ❝  c'mon, mom, the rule is, my music in my room, right? haha. and i love this song.  ❞ ❝ for my hour of tv this week, can i please just watch the news with you, mom? i miss you.  ❞ ❝  I'm just gonna' practice my 3-point shot, dad. Jeez. It's like the perfect summer day.  ❞ ❝  okay, mom. i won't do it again. dad, you know i respect like, 99 percent of your opinion. haha.  ❞ ❝  that's a great joke, dad!  can i post that online?  haha, see what i did there?  ❞ ❝  the sun looks amazing today. not sure why i never seem to notice. just look at it. i mean, wow.  ❞ ❝  yes, dad, i've been studying. hah, no, maybe not as much as i'm supposed to, but i'm only human.  ❞ ❝  i saw one of the bad kids, mom! make them leave!  ❞ ❝  make them go away, dad! they have a bad attitude! ❞ ❝  those bad kids are back! help!  ❞ ❝  my dad is going to call your dad!  and then you'll see!  ❞ ❝  you guys are in so much trouble! get away from me!  ❞ ❝  and... i'm back. am i back?  ❞ ❝  it's you! you brought me back... i owe you one.  ❞ ❝  that... was not good. thank you.  ❞ ❝  you... you saved me.  ❞ ❝  damn it, no! not you too... ❞ ❝  i'll tell your folks... i'll tell 'em... something. ❞ ❝  no... goddammit, you weren't supposed to...  ❞ ❝  oh jesus... this could be any of us!  ❞ ❝  shit... shit. i am so sorry... ❞ ❝  he was our friend! now he's...  ❞ ❝  that was a person... oh god.  ❞ ❝  this is too real...  ❞ ❝  creepy enough?  yes.  ❞ ❝  okay... file that away...  ❞ ❝  you getting this?  ❞ ❝  and what's the club got to say?  ❞ ❝  cool. so what was next?  ❞ ❝  good, right? texting hq.  ❞ ❝  hey! look at us! technically competent.  ❞ ❝  man, i wish i could post this on... something.  ❞ ❝  i'm the best that's ever been.  ❞ ❝  we came, we saw, we... still need a catchphrase!  ❞ ❝  wooo, woo, woo! woo, yes!  woo, woo, woo! you're the best! woo!  ❞ ❝  over there!  ❞ ❝  that way.  ❞ ❝  mine now.  ❞ ❝  dibs on everything.  ❞ ❝  strongbox! what's in it?  ❞ ❝  but stealing is wRoNg.  ❞ ❝  don't mind if i do!  ❞ ❝  evidence of spooky conspiracy. confiscating.  ❞ ❝  someone forgot to pick up their toys.  ❞ ❝  it's locked.  ❞ ❝  who's got lockpicks? oh yeah. me.  ❞ ❝  another door.  ❞ ❝  doors are my nemesis.  ❞ ❝  quiet! sleeper!  ❞ ❝  remember. sleepers could be family.  ❞ ❝  sleepwalker.  ❞ ❝  they're not evil... just hypnotized.  ❞ ❝  lucid here.  ❞ ❝  camera. stay out of the light.  ❞ ❝  they got cctv.  ❞ ❝  it's that stalker kid!  ❞ ❝  stalker! stalker!  ❞ ❝  there's that creep!  ❞ ❝  body here. still alive.  ❞ ❝  just sleeping. don't touch 'em.  ❞ ❝  get down!  ❞ ❝  quiet!  ❞ ❝  i have such savings to offer you...  ❞ ❝  oh-oh! evil corp's calling!  ❞ ❝  personal call to work. shame, shame.  ❞ ❝  prank calling... now!  ❞ ❝  i can't believe that worked!  ❞ ❝  target neutralized!  ❞ ❝  that's for bells, asshole!  ❞ ❝  bad guy down!  ❞ ❝  wow, that worked! really well...  ❞ ❝  got that little shit!  ❞ ❝  how's it feel, shithead?  ❞ ❝  i got 'em! uh, what now?  ❞ ❝  okay! holding this one... for now!  ❞ ❝  see how you like it!  ❞ ❝  stay down, stay down...!  ❞ ❝  that's right! how you like me now?!  ❞ ❝  angel coming!  ❞ ❝  close your eyes! close your eyes!  ❞ ❝  guys, please! not the angel!  ❞ ❝  it's after me! oh god...  ❞ ❝  it's here for me!  ❞ ❝  no! not the shape!  ❞ ❝  the angel! i'm the target!  ❞ ❝  angel's gone... i think.  ❞ ❝  it left me... it left.  ❞

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 3

I’m really happy that this has gotten some positive feedback, this fic is like my baby. Thanks to everyone for reading!

---------

It had been a week since getting out of the hospital and five days since the funeral. It was an odd feeling, and it didn’t make it better that it was a closed casket funeral since they had been burned so badly. It was probably for the better, that meant that the last time I saw them they were wishing me goodnight, smiling, happy, alive. 

I wanted to try to get back to normal. Uncle Noah told me that it was too soon too. He said he wished he spent some more time at home with Stiles, but he didn’t have much of a choice being the sheriff. But life goes on, even if I wanted to go back in time if just for a moment. Maybe getting back to something I enjoyed would be helpful in coping. Moving into the Stilinski house had been only a little strange. I had spent the night here before, especially when I was younger and Stiles and I would pass out in the living room watching Power Rangers or Disney movies. The only thing that bothered me was that I wouldn’t be going home after this, I had my own room with new sheets, new clothes, and only a few things that had survived the fire. Uncle Noah had painted the walls a soft (your favorite color). 

Everything seemed to be perfect, if you could even call it that. However, along with the fact that I lost practically everything, the person who took everything from me was still out there. Michael’s apartment had been cleaned out, his family was no longer in their home, they all just vanished. 

I stared at myself in the mirror, fiddling with the locket that Stiles had given me for my sixteenth birthday. Inside was a tiny picture of us at a birthday party when we were kids, our faces painted like cats, cake around our mouths. I smiled and thought back to the hospital. 

Uncle Noah left the room after giving my statement, leaving Stiles and I in the room. 

“Just so we’re clear you do mean Derek Hale. Main suspect in the fire that killed his family Derek Hale.” He asked. 

“Stiles, even if he did do it, why would he help me get away from Michael? If he was so crazy, why would he offer to drive me away? Why would he drive me to the hospital?” I sat up in the hospital bed.

“Maybe so he could murder you himself?” He scoffed. 

“I highly doubt that.” I looked out the window. But what he said did bring up a question. Derek and I were in completely different circles in high school. He could have completely ignored me and gave me back to Michael. But he didn’t. He helped me.

 I wanted to thank Uncle Noah for taking me in, so I insisted on making dinner tonight. To be honest, home cooking probably wasn’t standard at the Stilinski house. Some sort of pasta dish would probably be good. 

After giving my appearance a final once over, I made my way downstairs. Stiles was on the couch, eating ramen noodles. 

“Hey, I’m gonna head to the store, you wanna come?” I asked. 

He looked up mid-noodle slurp, “Uh yeah, of course. You want me to drive?” 

I scoffed, “So I can feel every bump in the road?” 

“Hey, Roscoe is a smooth ride.” He defended his Jeep. 

“I think that’s an oxymoron.” I grabbed my keys from the hook by the door, “Let’s go.” I smiled. He threw out his noodle carton and slipped on his shoes. Interactions like this made everything easier. 

- 

Around nine, I was just watching videos on the computer, hoping that it would numb my brain enough to go to sleep. Dinner had been cut short because Uncle Noah got a call from someone and went out saying he would be home later. But that didn’t mean Stiles would go to bed, even if his first day of sophomore was in the morning. 

“Hold it.” I called, not looking up from the screen, his footsteps were loud enough to wake the dead. I spun around in the computer chair, folding my fingers together, “And just where do you think you’re going, Mr. Stilinski?”

He straightened out his body, “Oh, just getting a drink of water.” 

I titled my head, “Really? You’re not going to go get Scott so you can find the body in the woods?” 

He squinted, “How did you know that?” 

“You think you’re the only one who’s tapped into police radio?” 

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, “So are you gonna tell Dad?” 

“Of course not.” I hummed, “But I’m going with you.” I stood up, zipping up my jacket. The outfit had already been prepared after the police radio chatter explained that there had been a body reported in the woods. 

“(Y/N), I don’t know if that’s a good idea seeing that… you know.” 

“I’m a big girl, Stiles. I can handle it. Plus, we probably won’t even find it.” 

The whole way to Scott’s house was him essentially making me swear a vow of silence. As if he couldn’t trust me, he told me everything and I never tattled. 

At Scott’s, I waited in the car while Stiles made his way to the front door where Scott almost took Stiles out with a bat. After some convincing, Stiles and Scott made their way to the Jeep.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Scott smiled as he got in, shoving his inhaler in his pocket. The smile was a sad one, something I would have to get used to. I was the girl whose parents were killed. 

Close to the destination, Scott brought up a good question: "So which half of the body are we looking for?“ 

We both looked at Stiles who said: "Ahh, I didn’t even think about that." 

"And what if whoever killed the body is still out here?” Scott added. This made me realize that maybe coming was a mistake. Michael was still on the loose, who was to say that this wasn’t another victim. And worse, that could have been her body out in the woods, or at least half of it.

“Also something I didn’t think about." 

“Did you think about anything?” I piped in before we finally parked outside the main trails into the woods. 

-

About fifteen minutes into our hike, I stopped to make sure Scott didn’t fall too far behind. He had the worst case of asthma I had ever seen, he couldn’t walk for very long without needing his inhaler. I knew how much he wanted to play lacrosse, but I really didn’t think it was possible. 

Midthought, I was pulled down the trail with Scott by Stiles. 

“What the he-” I began, but Stiles shushed me. The sound of dogs rang out in the darkness. Without thinking, I started running with Stiles, leaving Scott behind. Our running was stopped abruptly by a dog, who barked and snarled at us from the ground. 

“Heel! Hang on, hang on.” Uncle Noah called to the officer restraining the dog, “This delinquent belongs to me. And so does this one. This I didn’t expect.” He looked from Stiles to me. I stood up, brushing the dirt off my behind. 

“I was uh…babysitting.” 

“Right. Babysitting.” He nodded along, very clearly not believing me. He looked back to Stiles, “Where’s your usual partner in crime?” 

“Who?” Stiles asked, “Scott? Scott’s home. Said he wanted a good night’s sleep for back to school tomorrow. It’s just me and (Y/N). In the woods. Alone.” I elbowed his side at his terrible lie. 

Uncle Noah brought up his flashlight, looking in the trees and called for Scott. When he got no answer, he put the light down. 

“Well, young man, I’m going to walk you back to your Jeep. You too, missy.” He wrapped an arm around both of our shoulders, “We can all have a little conversation about the invasion of privacy.” I took one last glance in the woods, hoping Scott was okay. And if Michael was the one to do this, I really hoped that Scott would be at school tomorrow. 

- 

The next day was the beginning of lacrosse season, meaning the beginning of work. Around one in the afternoon, I made up my lacrosse bag and had a quick lunch and went out to my car. I opened the driver’s side door but I paused, having an eerie feeling crawl up my spine, like I was being watched. I checked my surroundings but saw nothing. Without another thought about it, I made my way towards the high school. 

-

I made it just in time for lacrosse practice to start, Coach Finstock was on the sidelines. He had his usual look of discontent. I made my way to his side. He looked at me out of the corner of his vision, then back to the players making their way on the field. 

“Is there any way you could She’s the Man this and be on the team.” He asked. 

I held onto the strap of my bag, “That would be cheating, Coach. But I would if I could.” He patted me on the back. 

“Good to have you back, (Y/L/N).” He blew his whistle, “Alright, gather ‘round, ladies. Let’s keep this short so we can practice and maybe get something down today. This is (Y/N), my assistant coach. If I see any of you hormonal monsters so much as look at her the wrong way, I will make sure this season will be hell for you. That means you, Greenberg.” After some more instruction, he sent the boys off on their way. Stiles waved at me before starting to run laps. Since it was the first day, Coach said that just sitting in the bleachers would work for today. To be honest, it felt like he was taking it easy on me, if that were even possible for him to do. I sat up on the bleachers, watching all of the players run. I did see Scott so that meant he survived the night in the woods. 

“Hi.” A soft voice came from beside me. I looked up, seeing a brown hair girl had made her way to sit besides me. 

“Hey.” I said back, she didn’t seem familiar at all, maybe a new kid in town. 

“Come to watch your boyfriend?” She pointed to Stiles, whose legs seemed to work out of sync with his body. 

“Oh no no, that’s my friend. I’m also the assistant coach.” I held my hand out, “(Y/N).”

“Allison.” She shook my hand and looked back out at the field.

“You’re new, huh?” I asked. 

“Is it that easy to tell?” She chuckled. 

“Nah, you just didn’t look familiar. Was your last school into lacrosse too, or…?”

“Oh uh, no, I came to see him.” She vaguely pointed in the direction of Scott. 

“Scott? Yeah, he’s a nice guy.” I smiled.

“I know. He gave me a pen in class today, which was a life saver because I lost mine.”

 After a moment, a redhead I knew all too well sat down besides Allison. Not that I knew her personally, Lydia Martin was just the girl that Stiles had been in love with since… ever.

“Are you the girl whose house burned down?” She asked. Her subtlety was immaculate. Allison, looking mortified, gave me an apologetic smile. 

“Ahuh.” I shrugged, getting up from my seat, “I can’t really see the field. I’m gonna get a different angle. It was nice meeting you, Allison.” Before they could say more, I took the steps down to the grass. 

“McCall!” Coach called, “Get in goal.” 

I crossed my arms over my chest, “You think that’s gonna be a good idea? He’s never played goal before.” 

“I got a feeling.” He said, also crossing his arms and calling the players to line up and make shots at the goal. I gave Scott a quick thumbs up. Coach blew his whistle, Scott grabbed at his ears like the sound was too loud. The player sidearm shot the ball at the goal, hitting Scott in the helmet and sending him on his back. I winced, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stiles had the same reaction. This might not go well.

To my surprise, though, Scott got back up and caught the next ball that came at him. The next player to come up seemed to have an angry walk in his step.

"Who’s that?” I whispered to Coach.

“Jackson Whittemore.” He looked back, enthralled in the fact that Scott was doing well.

Jackson Whittemore was the town rich boy and did pretty well in lacrosse from what I understood. He also had a chip on his shoulder the size of Mars. He whipped the ball as fast he could, it was impressive. But it was no match for Scott’s new goalie skills.

-

After practice, Stiles, Scott, and I made our way back to the woods - this time in broad daylight- to find Scott’s inhaler that he dropped. He mentioned that while he was out, he was attacked by an animal and got bitten.

“I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear. Smell things.” He explained.

“Smell things?” Stiles scrunched up his nose, “Like what?”

“Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket.” He motioned towards Stiles. Stiles looked skeptical but when searching his pocket did find the pack of gum.

“How many sticks left?” I asked, a little amused.

“Uhhh.” he sniffed, “Two.” I took the gum from Stiles' hand and opened it.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Two sticks.

“So this all started with a bite?” Stiles took back his gum, sticking it back in his pocket.

“Could this be some kind of infection?” Scott asked.

“I actually think I’ve heard of this. It’s a different kind of infection.” Stiles shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He gave me a side eye, I nodded.

“Are you serious?” He asked, getting more exasperated. We both nodded.

“Yeah, I think it’s called lycanthropy.” Stiles said.

“What is that? Is it bad?” Scott asked, the panic setting in.

“The worst.” I exaggerated. 

“It’s worse about once a month.”

“Once a month?”

“On the night of the full moon.” Stiles sighed, as if this “infection” was terminal. The fact that Scott hasn’t gotten it yet just told me that he wasn’t paying attention during Monster Movie night. Stiles and I threw our heads back and howled towards the sky.

“Come on, guys, this isn’t funny!” Scott glared.

“Didn’t you tell your mom about it?” I asked, then realized how stupid of a question it was. If Ms. McCall had found out how late he was out and that he was in the woods looking for a body, he would have been grounded for sure.

“Of course not.” He shook his head. After that, the boys had walked a little bit ahead, still going on about Scott’s new super infection. I took a little more time looking in the bushes to see if Scott’s inhaler had fallen off the trail. The thing was bright red, it shouldn’t be that hard to find. While I searched, I zoned out everything else in the world. I thought about my parents. There was still so much that I didn’t know that they never got a chance to teach me. The last night they were alive, they had mentioned something offhand.

“(Y/D/N), when are we going to tell her?” Mom whispered, biting her nails. They spoke in the hallway, not realizing I could hear. Dad paused for a moment, then looked down at her.

“We’ll tell her tomorrow.”

I never found out what they were going to tell me.

The other thing that I couldn’t seem to get off my mind was Derek Hale. He practically risked his life to help me. If I saw someone with a knife like Michael was, I would like to believe that I would do what Derek did, but I couldn’t be sure. Besides that, I couldn’t get his face out of my head. It would be a lie if I didn’t think he was attractive. The way he looked at me with those dark green eyes. It made you feel a certain sort of way. 

I looked up from the bushes I was searching and realized it was way darker than it had been and that Scott and Stiles were nowhere in sight. 

“Scott? Stiles?” I called. No answer. What did answer though, was a flash of rain. 

“Great. I’m lost in the woods, where there is a dead body. And even a murderer.” I moped out loud. I found my way back to what I thought was the trail and started walking. I pulled my phone from my back pocket and saw that it was completely dead. So much for calling in a rescue. Thunder roared in the sky, making my pace faster. 

By now it was dark, just flashes of lightning making it easy for me to see where I was walking. I walked for what seemed like forever until I found a large house in the middle of the woods. The place seemed vaguely familiar. It was in disrepair and looked like no one had been there in years. For now, it would probably be better to wait out the storm and start walking when the rain ended. I pushed the door and stepped inside. It was still wet inside from the parts of the house that were missing, but in places where there was still roof, it was dry. I looked around, seeing something on the wall, partially burned. It was a triskelion with a name underneath. Hale. I was standing in the remains of the Hale house.

“What are you doing here?” A deep voice made me jump and turn around. Derek Hale stood in the doorway, a lightning flash lit up his face and for a moment his eyes looked blue before going back to their green color. 

“I’m sorry, I just got lost in the woods and then it started raining. I-I’ll leave now.” I walked towards the door to go out again but he grabbed my arm tightly. 

“Don’t go out there.” He said, looking behind him.

“Why?” I asked in a hushed voice. He looked me in the eyes, looking pretty terrifying frankly. 

“You were followed here.” He said, making my blood run cold. 

“Was it…?” I took a deep breath, “Was it Michael?” He shook his head, pulling me further into the house. 

“No, something else.” 

“Something else? What do you mean?” I asked, pulling my arm from his grip. He stopped and looked at me confused. 

“Didn’t you smell it? Hear it?” 

“Look, Derek, I know we never talked in high school and you barely know me, so I’ll just let you in on a little secret: I can’t smell when something is stalking me in the woods.” I looked over my shoulder at the door. There was a creaking sound coming from outside that was pretty consistent with walking. He glared out at the creaking, taking his jacket off. 

“Put this on.” He held it out to me. 

“Why?” I asked. Looking from the jacket to him. 

“It will put my scent on you.” 

“Your freaking what?” I raised my eyebrows at him. Maybe he was crazy. I was stuck in an abandoned house with whatever was outside with a crazy person. 

“Will you just put it on?” He barked. No need to make a crazy man mad. I took the jacket and slipped it on. Like any other jacket it smelled like leather, but this had something else, a musky smell that would be very pleasing if the situation was different. 

“Go out the back and run.” He started walking towards the door, “Now.” He didn’t need to tell me twice. I took off running as fast as I could out the back door and up the long drive way that connected the Hale property to the main road. And, like an absolute angel, Stiles appeared in his Jeep, stopping right outside the entrance to the overgrown driveway. 

“(Y/N)!” He called over the rain. I ran to the jeep, got in and slammed the door behind me. 

“Go, go go go go.” I said hastily, put on my seat belt and he took off. 

“Why weren’t you answering your phone?!” He shouted, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“I didn’t charge it before going out in the woods.” I panted, looking over my shoulder to make sure the something Derek had been talking about wasn’t behind us. 

“Whose jacket is that?” 

“Derek Hale’s.” 

“Why do you have his jacket?!” 

“Listen, I could explain right now but apparently I was being stalked back there so put this thing in gear and drive faster.”

- 

Last night after getting home, I explained to Stiles what happened. We both agreed that it did sound like Derek was a little crazy. But the fact was that something in the woods bit Scott and it was probably better that Derek had found me instead of whatever it was. 

The next morning, everything should have been a dream. The whole situation would make more sense. But Derek’s jacket was hanging on the back of her door which meant that instead of encountering Derek being a dream, it was reality. Stiles would be in school by now and Uncle Noah was definitely at work, if he even left last night to begin with. Maybe a walk would take my mind off things. I got dressed and ready and was about to walk out of my room when I caught myself grabbing Derek’s jacket to put on. This jacket wasn’t mine, I shouldn’t be wearing it. I didn’t need to have Derek’s “scent” all over me but I grabbed it anyway. There was the possibility that I would see him while I was out since I had been seeing him a hundred times more than usual. I opened the front door, seeing Derek who was just standing outside the door. 

“We need to talk.”

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

Read part 4 here!

Part 3 down. And trust me, this part needed a lot of work from the “original” material. 

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[joezworld]

Flesh is Temporary, Steel is Eternal. (2/5)

Sister

1967

“Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” Skarloey asked Nancy one afternoon in early summer.

“Nope!” She said, and draped herself over his saddle tank to continue reading her novel.

“Really?”

“Uh huh! All my friends are away, and mum and dad both work here, so I might as well stay here with you!”

Skarloey rolled his eyes. Nancy was too old for this to be called ‘babysitting’, but even when she wasn’t, the time for objections had long passed. She had been draping herself over himself and Rheneas for so long that The Thin Clergyman had written about it! At this point he was more used to her being around than not, and his grouchiness was growing more and more amiable with each passing month.

“What are you reading?”

“A pulp novel about a boy who is cursed by a witch to turn into a locomotive under the light of the full moon.” Nancy sounded especially sarcastic as she read the plot to him.

Skarloey stared up at her. “Really?”

“Yeah!” A hand dropped in front of his smokebox, showing the gaudy cover of the book; It did indeed feature a young man holding up his arm in horror as his hand turned into a locomotive wheel. CURSE OF THE WERE-ENGINE was printed in lurid red letters across the top of the cover.

“That is the worst book cover I have ever seen.” Skarloey said once he finished goggling at it.

“The book isn’t much better.” Nancy admitted as she retracted her arm.

“Then why are you reading it?”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t interesting. Besides, I want to see how the witch did it!”

“You want to see how to turn someone into an engine?”

“Yeah!”

“Why?”

“Becauuuseeee...” She said as she draped her entire head over the edge of Skarloey’s smokebox. “I’m curious!”

“About what?”

“About being an engine, silly!” She said as though it was totally reasonable. “I spend so much time with you and Rheneas and the others that I’m curious about what it’s like!”

“You could just ask me what it’s like.” Skarloey said, more than a little shocked at this

“Yeah, but you don’t know what it’s like to be a person, so it’d be like comparing apples to oranges - this book shows both sides.”

“What does it say then?”

“Honestly not much. The bloke is too busy being scared to actually notice anything. Typical boy.” She muttered.

“Nance” Rheneas asked groggily as he woke up from his nap. “Why do you want to be an engine?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“I imagine a lot of people.”

“Like who?”

“You parents for one, your friends for another.”

“Eh. I’d rather be what I want to be than what they want me to be. ‘Sides, if I had to be like someone, I’d rather be like you two.”

Skarloey and Rheneas looked at each other. “Why?” Skarloey asked slowly.

“’Cause you’re brothers.” Nancy said simply. She’d clearly been thinking about this for a while, and kept talking like it had been on her mind. “And you’ve got Peter Sam and Duncan and Sir Handel and everyone else. I’ve just got me.”

Skarloey and Rheneas looked at each other again. They had no idea what being an only child was like, but evidently Nancy didn’t like being one.

“And if you turned into an engine,” Skarloey said with exceptional care. “What would that make you?”

“I dunno - your sister or something?” Nancy said blithely, unaware of the wide-eyed looks the two engines were having. “I feel like I already am sometimes, but it’s weird to say that when you two are older than my parents.”

“Well,” said Rheneas in a small voice before Skarloey could say anything. “If you ever manage that, I think you would be our sister then.”

“Okay!” Nancy said, blissfully ignorant of the emotional impact of her words in a way that only young people can be.

---

Two Years Later

It was a clear, cloudless night in July. The moon was supposed to be full and bright that night, and Skarloey and Rheneas had asked to be parked outside so that they could see it.

They were both half-asleep in the bright light of the very full moon when a dark-dressed figure came crunching up the gravel towards them.

Now fully awake, Skarloey called out to the figure. “Who goes there! Show yourself!”

“Keep your voice down!” Hissed the figured, who tore off their hat to reveal:

“Nancy!” Rheneas hissed. “What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night!”

“I need to show you guys something,” Nancy looked strangely determined. “And it can only be done under a full moon!"

“What?”

“Look!” Nancy took this as permission to keep going, and rummaged through her bag to produce a thick, leather-bound book. “I found this in a second-hand shop on the mainland.”

“What is it?” Rheneas asked, instantly more interested in the book than in Nancy’s late night escapade. Skarloey would have whooshed steam at Rheneas to keep him focused on Nancy being out so late, but his fire had been dropped so long ago that there was nothing left.

“It’s a big book of enchantments and cantrips! Magic!” She said with excitement.

“Oh Nancy,” Skarloey wasn’t sure whether to be indignant at her or disappointed on her behalf. “Magic isn’t real!”

“I thought you’d say that,” She said quickly. “So I brought proof!”

She reached back into her bag, and pulled out a battered old school book. In the light of the moon, Skarloey could see that the book’s hard cover had words and shapes carved into it.

As the two engines watched, Nancy brought the book up to their eye level and then let go.

Instead of falling to the ballast below, the book hovered in mid-air. Skarloey watched with amazement, all objections forgotten.

“Amazing...” Whispered Rheneas, instantly very interested. “Did you learn that from the book?”

“Yeah!” Nancy exclaimed as she flipped the spell book open to a different page. “I found that and a load of other spells, but I wanted to try this one with you two!”

Skarloey was hesitant. Rheneas was not. “We’ll do it!” He cried before his brother could say anything.

Nancy squealed joyfully and knelt down between the two engines, quickly marking on their cylinder blocks with a grease pencil that she’d produced from... somewhere.

“What are you doing?” Asked Skarloey as the grease markings suddenly began to itch.

“I’m making a rune.” Nancy said, quietly concentrating as she made sure that the marks were identical.

“A what?”

“A rune - it’s a magic thing from the book.”

Skarloey wanted to roll his eyes at Rheneas and Nancy’s misplaced enthusiasm, but he looked back at the school book, still hovering over the tracks, and realized that he might be the wrong one in this situation.

Rheneas gasping broke him from his ruminations. “What are you doing?!”

What Nancy was doing was slicing both her palms open with a folding knife. “It needs blood to work!” She winced, before slapping both hands onto the runes.

Skarloey expected a wet slapping noise, and was vaguely horrified when a sharp sizzle emanated from beneath her hands instead. It sounded like Nancy was being horribly burned - even though neither of them were in steam, but she didn’t wince or cry out; if anything, it looked like whatever just happened had healed her hands, since her pained look lessened significantly.

Much to both engine’s concern, she then started reciting something in what Skarloey was certain was Latin:

“Duae familiae fiet unum,

Tenetur per metallum et sanguinem,

Fratrem in hac parte,

In lumine lunae,

Hoc autem creatus est vinculum solum potest conteram Deorum”

Her recitation was slow and methodical, and her face was deeply calm as she said it, ignoring the blood that was dripping down from both of her palms.

Rheneas looked to be somewhere on the ‘fascinated’ side of ‘horrified fascination’, while Skarloey was firmly on the other side - to the point where he couldn’t even muster up the words to tell Nancy what he thought of this macabre ritual, he was so horrified.

As she finished the string of ominous-sounding Latin, a bright light surged out from beneath Nancy’s fingers, tracing along the grease pen runes before running its way up her arms and Skarloey and Rheneas’ connecting rods. The light built to a hugely bright flash that looked like a silent lightning bolt.

When Skarloey blinked the spots out of his eyes, it was over. Nancy was lying flat on her back in the gravel a few feet away from where she started, the grease paint was gone from both engines, and when she stood up and brushed herself off, Skarloey could see no trace of the cuts to Nancy’s palms.

If one ignored the floating book, it was almost like nothing had happened.

Skarloey was still speechless from shock and horror at the whole affair, but Rheneas was somehow much calmer. “Now that the light show is over, are you going to tell us what that did?”

“Oh!” Skarloey didn’t need to see Nancy’s cheeks to know that she was blushing - the silly girl had totally forgotten to say what this spell did. “It’s suppose-”

“Hey you! What are you doing here?” The night watchman from the big railway’s works had been alerted by the bright flash of light, and was making his way across the yard, his flashlight bobbing up and down as he crossed the standard gauge rails.

“I’ll tell you later!” Nancy whispered as she stuffed the floating book into her bag and took off running up the narrow gauge line. Within a few moments, her dark clothing was swallowed up by the night, and she vanished.

The two little old engines waited until the watchman had run back to his office in the works to phone the police before speaking.

“Our sister is crazy.” Rheneas said finally.

“That’s not the word I’d use.” Skarloey muttered. “Foolish, irresponsible, worrying even, but-”

He stopped midsentence as something occurred to him.

“Rheneas, since when is Nancy our sister?”

“Since always?”

“Since always?! She wasn’t ten minutes ago!”

Both engines blinked for a moment.

“I guess we found out what that spell was supposed to do then.” Rheneas said quietly.

-

The next afternoon, Skarloey rolled into the yard after taking a train of slate trucks down from the mines. Nancy, who had been slumped bonelessly over an old chair in the shed with a magazine, hopped up and clambered up on top of his boiler without so much as a hello.

“That was an incredibly stupid thing to do last night.” Skarloey chided gently.

“I know,” Nancy said as she laid down between his funnel and dome and started reading. “Was worth it though.”

“Isn’t it hot up there? I’m still in steam.”

“Nope.”

“At some point you must really show me exactly what that book said.”

“Can you read Latin?’

“No.”

“Then I don’t think it will help if you read it.”

----

Two weeks later

It was another wonderful clear night, and Nancy was half asleep on Rheneas’ cab roof while he and Skarloey bickered over something incredibly minor as their fires died down. As much as Skarloey would complain about her sitting around idly, she did actually do odd jobs for the railroad, and had volunteered to drop the two engines’ fires once they got low enough. The problem was that this minor argument was keeping both of them thoroughly ‘fired up’ as it were, and she’d likely have to wait until the coal burned out entirely before she could clear out their ash pans.

Eventually, the argument got Rheneas in such a tizzy that he belched a gout of thick, sooty smoke out of his funnel, covering all three in a choking cloud of ash and coal dust.

When the smoke cleared, Skarloey was still blinking soot from his eyes while Rheneas spat chunks of clinker out of his mouth.

Nancy, meanwhile, had been directly in the cloud's path and was black from head to toe. She was not pleased about it.

Not that Skarloey and Rheneas cared, and the argument was quickly forgotten as they laughed themselves silly at their sibling’s predicament.

“It’s not funny you two! I just bought this jumper!” Nancy protested as Skarloey and Rheneas howled with laughter. “Aren’t you both - achoo!”

She cut herself off as she began sneezing massively from the ash in her nose. In fact, there was so much ash in her nose that it started coming out in little black puffs, which only fueled her brothers’ heaving laughter.

Skarloey could barely see, he was laughing so hard, and was therefore surprised to hear Rheneas’ voice go from mocking to concerned in the span of two seconds

“What’s wrong...” He trailed off as he opened his eyes.

What was wrong was plainly obvious - Nancy was still sneezing, but was now doing so from within an impossibly large cloud of black smoke. There was no way that it had all come from her, as the cloud was bigger than Nancy was, and was still growing with each sneeze.

By the time the cloud had grown to the size of Skarloey, neither brother was laughing any more, and were beside themselves with concern.

“Are you all right?” Rheneas called into the cloud.

“Ye- achoo! Yes! I think!” Nancy called back. “But something feels weird! Achoo!”

After a few more tense minutes, Nancy stopped sneezing and the smoke began to clear up.

Skarloey blinked once, then once more, then a third time. Next to him he could hear Rheneas quietly swearing.

“What?” Came Nancy’s voice. “What happened?”

Skarloey tried to speak, but his mouth just flapped open like a dying fish.

“What?” Nancy’s voice sounded increasingly concerned, which was impressive considering that she wasn’t even in sight anymore.

Well, she couldn’t be in sight anymore - there was an engine parked directly in front of where she had been standing, which meant that she had to be behind it.

It was a very familiar looking engine too - like if someone had taken off Skarloey’s two rear wheels and put them onto Rheneas’ frame.

“Will either of you say something!” Nancy’s voice demanded. It’s funny - if Skarloey didn’t know any better, he’d say that the engine was speaking with Nancy’s voice.

“Nancy?” Rheneas said in a small voice. “is that you?”

“Is what me?” The engine asked, its eyes darting around.

"You-you-you..." Rheneas spluttered incoherently.

“WHAT IS IT?!” The locomotive asked. A small corner of Skarloey’s mind was astounded that they hadn’t woken the other engines.

After another frantic moment, the locomotive looked down at its bufferbeam. Whatever it saw deeply surprised it, because its eyes snapped back up to look at Skarloey and Rheneas before looking back down at itself.

“Am... am I...?” It asked slowly. Skarloey felt like he was having an out of body experience - the pieces were there, but he wasn’t quite putting everything together.

“Yes!” Rheneas was quicker on the uptake. “Yes you are!”

The engine looked like it wanted to say something else, but it suddenly morphed and changed in a dark flash of movement. When it settled back down, Nancy was once again standing in the middle of the tracks.

“What?” She asked, in no small amount of shock as she patted herself down.

Seeing the engine turn back into Nancy suddenly made everything come together for Skarloey, and he tried to speak, or scream, or say something! Instead, all the words tried to come out at once and he just babbled incoherently.

Rheneas wasn’t in a much better state, and was saying something that he might have thought were words, but were actually just syllables.

Meanwhile, Nancy had suddenly stopped patting herself down, sprinted for her bag, which was hanging on a coat hook near the shed door, and flipped it over while she scrabbled for something in it. Eventually finding what she was looking for, she sprinted back in front of Skarloey and Rheneas, revealing that she was holding the same book of magic spells from two weeks ago.

Her brothers were not in any state to speak, let alone question her, and so she was able to quickly flip to the page she was looking for.

“That was not listed as a result!” She said after a minute, before carefully setting the book down on the ground and taking a few steps back. "But maybe... I switched some words around because you're made of metal. Let me try this again..."

Skarloey and Rheneas lost what little of their composure they had regained when Nancy’s form blurred once again, and the engine appeared in her place.

The engine - Nancy?! - blinked once, then blurred back to a human form. This continued back and forth several times, before Nancy, once again a person, staggered back on her heels, a look of joy on her face.

Wordlessly, she approached Skarloey and wrapped her arms around his smokebox.

“Now I really am your sister!” She said, tears beginning to stream down her face.

-

As the years went on, Nancy’s ability became normal to Skarloey and Rheneas. They had to keep it away from the other engines, because they were certain that some engines (Sir Handel, Duncan) would be unable to keep it secret, but it was not a secret that they considered Nancy to be their sister - even if nobody understood how or why!

If they had wanted to keep it a secret, then that option went out the window when Nancy’s daughters greeted the old engines as “unca Ska’oey!” and “unca ‘Neas!”

Similarly, Nancy could never pull any trains, because someone might notice, and ask where the new engine came from, but the trio were content to spend time with each other late at night when nobody was watching.

In the early 1990′s, Nancy and her husband moved to the Isle of Man for work. While they visited often, neither of them liked being so far away from their family, who all worked or went to school on Sodor, and they came back in 2002. Skarloey and Rheneas were thrilled to see her, which cemented her resolve to never leave Sodor again.

In 2013, Nancy’s oldest daughter entered the “family business”, and joined the board of directors for the Skarloey Railway. She proved to be a capable administrator, and was promoted to head of operations in after only a decade.

Even as she grew older, Nancy continued to hang around the sheds, never quite able to stay away...

-

2045

One bright summer morning, Nancy hobbled her way into the yards. Skarloey and Rheneas watched with no small amount of discomfort - age had not been kind to their sister, and she no longer moved with the grace of a young person. Coming to a stop on the tracks in front of Rheneas, she closed her eyes and morphed back into an engine.

Unlike her human form, she was just as young-looking an engine in 2045 as she was in 1969.

“That’s better.” She sighed quietly as she rested on her wheels.

“Nance?” Rheneas said quietly. “You do know that people can see you?”

“I don’t care.” She said as a wisp of steam curled out of her funnel, causing Skarloey to raise an eyebrow.

“Do you want to explain something?” He asked.

“I am old and I am creaky and I am tired of it.” She said, looking at Skarloey pointedly.

Skarloey’s other eyebrow rose, and Rheneas’ jaw dropped. “You don’t mean...”

“I do.”

The engines sat in silence for a moment - Nancy enjoying the Summer sun, while Skarloey and Rheneas digested her words.

After a while, a voice could be heard coming closer to them. Nancy’s daughter Elaine made her way across the tracks, deep in conversation on her earphone.

Although they could only hear one side of the conversation, Skarloey and Rheneas could pick up enough context clues to know that she was talking to the board about when it would become necessary to find another engine.

The two old engines eyed their younger sister - they had a feeling that this wasn’t a coincidence.

“-yes, I know that we only got Wolfgang five years ago, but traffic has increased ten percent since then! We can barely keep up with the Amazon traffic as it is. Thank god that we have Rusty back at full power after his rebuild-”

She stopped mid-stride as she looked over at the trio of engines. “Let me call you back.”

She stood there for a moment, glaring at her mother. Skarloey did not need to look at Nancy to know that she was making a face right back - the shite-eating grim was so prominent he could almost feel it.

Elaine gave up first, burying her head in her hands. “Mum, mum. We talked about this.”

“You talked about this. I ignored you.” Nancy smirked. Rheneas couldn’t hold back a gasp of laughter at his sister’s unadulterated snark.

“How am I supposed to explain this?” Elaine said, not even lifting her head out of her hands.

“I don’t care. I’m not going back.”

“What about dad? Isn’t he going to be waiting for you?” Elaine was trying to be upset and it wasn’t quite sticking.

“Your father will be waiting for me in heaven whether it’s for ten years or ten thousand. I’m staying here with my family.” Nancy wasn’t budging from her position.

Elaine drew her head out of her hands to glare at her mother again. Eventually, she admitted defeat, and threw her hands into the air. “Fine! Fine! You win! I give up!” She shouted as she stalked away towards the railroad’s offices.

She tapped her ear twice to engage another call, and Skarloey could hear her start talking to someone- presumably her sister. “Hey - she actually did it. No I’m not joking. Yeah, I’m gonna have to explain this to the board somehow. I don’t know how. Do you have the book still? Why? Because if she can do it then so can I when the time is-”

The door to the office closed behind her, silencing the conversation.

The trio of engines looked at each other meaningfully. No words were said until Duke puffed into the yards. He eyed Nancy with suspicion.

“There were two of you earlier.” The striking similarity between the three was not lost on him.

Skarloey was wondering how he was going to explain this to the normally-superstitious old engine when Nancy spoke up.

“For shame, Duke!” I go to the works for a month and you forget all about me?”

“I’m sure I don’t know you.” Duke was unconvinced.

For once, Skarloey was the first off the draw. “Really, you forgetful old engine? You know my sister for almost a hundred years and you forget her after a month?”

“How can you forget Nancy? She’s been here longer than you have!” Rheneas chipped in, once it was clear they were just going to gaslight their colleague.

Duke stared at them, unamused. “I only know one Nancy, and she most assuredly does not...”

The surety faded from his eyes as Kitten, woken from a nap by the argument, sauntered across the rails, hopped up onto Nancy’s bufferbeam, and fell asleep once more.

“...” Duke blinked several times as he tried to reconcile his memories of Nancy not being there with the engine sitting in front of him.

“I apologize. The years must be finally getting to me.” He said quietly, and steamed into the sheds, the automatic door sliding shut behind him.

It took all of Skarloey, Rheneas, and Nancy’s strength not to dissolve into laughter then and there.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader

Chapter 3- The Swedish Job

Summary: After learning of Diego’s wonderful ‘cough cough ‘terrible’ cough cough’ plan to stop the assassination of JFK. And figuring out Sir Reginald is in the recovered footage, you, Diego, and Five went out to find him. Ending the night with Diego getting shanked by his own father. Now here you are in the aftermath trying to convince Diego, he needs to rest.

Tagged: @white-wolf-buckaroo @la-vie-en-amour1 @fandomoverlord221 If you want tagged just hit me up.

This is like 55% smut ngl.⚔️

To make a long story short, you didn’t end up talking it out with Sir Reginald Hargreeves, or find anything worth dying for either. No hidden notes or files were to be found. And all that you took away from this fun little adventure. A bleeding Diego, and a cranky old man in a 13-year-olds body who also happened to get scratched by an aggressive monkey. Who turned out to be baby Pogo, things have been weirder. So you took it in stride, and hauled Diego’s ass to Elliot’s house, while Five drove, you keeping pressure on the wound the whole time.

——

Getting some medical supplies ready, you glance at an unconscious Diego, who’s sleeping soundly on the couch. Shirt off and looking as handsome as ever, contrary to the bloody bandaid covering his injury that you applied earlier. So far he was doing fine, and that’s all you needed to know. You cursed yourself for not stepping up in time to prevent this little mishap. But how could you have known Diego would get stabbed? All that mattered was that he’s alive and not dead. Ben wouldn’t want anyone else hanging around Klaus most likely anyways. He deals with enough nonsense already, you assume.

While holding the steel medical instruments, one in each hand, you carefully position yourself next to Diego. Slowly bringing the utensils closer to his damaged skin, preparing to cauterize the bloody cut. A second later you make contact, hearing a gross sizzling sound and smelling the burning of human flesh. Disgusting. Instantly Diego’s eyes shoot open, gasping at the hot pain your causing him. Being dramatic and starting to get louder, sounding like drums in your ears. Not helping whatsoever.

“Would you quite yelling I’ve never done this before” You tell him honestly while concentrating on the task at hand.

“What happened?” Diego asks you, confused as to how he got here.

“I saved you...again.” You reply bluntly, still working on his wound.

“Did you even listen to the plans?” He mumbles sassily.

“Your plans were stupid and it was entertaining watching you get your ass kicked by your own dad, if I might add.” You reply while finally looking up at him.

Suddenly he goes wide eyed again, lifting his head up to better access the situation. “Where are my clothes Y/N?! The hell happened to my clothes?” He says distressed, trying to get up.

Frustrated with his lack of listening skills you push the cauterizing tool closer into his skin, listening to the sizzle once again. Diego looks down at the damage as he yells out loudly in agony, then abruptly laying down with a groan in defeat. Falling unconscious from the large influx of pain, and conveniently not moving again either. Good.

Focusing back on the task of playing doctor, Five sighs, walking into the room. “Oh. He isn’t dead.”

“Disappointed.” Lila asks, trailing in after him from some hidden corner.

“Oh, to see you? Always.” He jabs back.

“So much hostility in such a tiny package. How are you two friends?” She asks, glancing at you unamused by Five’s rudeness.

“He’s an added bonus for dating Diego.” You vaguely explain, smiling to yourself as she nods and focuses her attention back to Five.

“Did you cut yourself shaving? I could tech you to shave like a big boy.” Quips Lila bluntly.

Snorting in amusement at her banter with Five, you look over to him. Who’s holding up a cotton pad over his scratch marks. “No, just ran into an old family friend.” He says tiredly with a sigh.

Looking briefly behind him, he points to Elliot who’s still tied to the dentist chair, unable to properly speak. “Neither of you untied him?” He asks.

“I was preoccupied.” You shrug.

“I wasn’t told otherwise.” Lila says, while sitting down and reclining in a chair.

——

While you’re throwing one of Diego’s knives into the nearby wall for some pastime target practice. An annoying alarm begins to sound throughout the room, “Hey, we got one. Hey, one of those machines you asked for his going crazy.” Announces Elliot from across the room in his swivel chair. Five speeding past you to see what the commotions about.

“Which one?” He asks quickly.

“It’s the, uh, atmosphere radar.”

“Good.” Five adds.

“I don’t get it. What are they tracking? A hurricane? A storm front?” Elliot wonders, confused as to what his radar system is showing them.

“Sound waves.” They say collectively in realization.

Five starts to back away, you knowing exactly what he’s about to do. A flash and he’s gone.

“Wow. What...Hey, where are you going?” Inquires Elliot, not used to Five’s way of handling things. Which is usually alone.

Giving him a shrug you turn back around to throw another knife, hitting the bullseye with a thud, and splintering the wood in the process. “I wonder if he’ll actually find Vanya?” You think, pondering the possible whereabouts of the rest of your friends.

——

Halting your arm from throwing another dart, your ears prick, abruptly catching the sound of Diego creaking the bed from the other room. Oh that man is not about to get up, you thought, turning to Lila. “I’m gonna have to forfeit, wolfman apparently thinks he’s okay enough to get up.” You tell her while rolling your eyes, setting your spare darts on the table and turning to find Diego.

Walking into his makeshift room you watch as he painfully stands up from the bed, grimacing and trying to breathe steadily, as not to cause anymore pain for himself.

“So what are your plans now tough guy, by the way Elliot’s made mushy tuna.” You tell him while leaning against the door frame.

“No. It’s a tuna mold.” Replies Elliot while walking away with his tuna mold, half offended.

“Y/N, where’s my shirt?”

“Last I checked you had a stab wound, so if you can all of a sudden miraculously harness my healing powers. Your ass is staying in bed.” You tell him sternly, knowing he’s not gonna listen.

“What, no I can’t, this is all connected to JFK, and my Dad’s right in the middle of it.” He explains while putting pants on. “That’s why he attacked me last night.” Looking to your right you pick up a mop-less wooden stick, and decide to have some fun getting him to shut up. “Cause he knows that I’m actually getting closer to..” he doesn’t have time to finish before you poke him directly into his bandaged bloody wound. Earning a gargled yell from him in the process, he then falls directly onto the bed grunting in pain from your cheap shot.

“Yeah you look like you’re ready to throw hands, why don’t you fight me right now. And if you win I’ll let you go.” You tell him with a shit eating grin plastered onto your smug face.

He looks up at you slightly offended and very much frustrated. “What is wrong with you?” He exclaims from the bed, still in pain.

Throwing your arms up in irritation, you try and reason with his stubbornness. “Just going out on a limb here, but if I remember correctly, you almost got killed last night. Take a day off, D.” You tell him, setting your temporary weapon off to the side. Swiveling back around on one foot, you gracefully jump onto the bed, positioning yourself right next to Diego’s discouraged and mostly naked form.

Propping your left arm up to look down at Diego, he tells you sadly, “I can’t believe I got shanked by my own father.”

“Wild right. What a prick.” You say trying to comfort him with a little humor. “Listen, if it helps any, he didn’t know you were his son when he shanked you.”

“Still, he cheap-shotted me.” He says still looking sadly off into nowhere. “Man to man, that son of a bitch wouldn’t stand a chance.” He tells you with hidden fight in his voice.

Not wanting to fully dampen his withering spirits to much but still wanting to tease him a little. You carelessly caress his skin, trailing up to push on his cut ever so lightly. Pulling forth a pained gasp from Diego, giving him a silent reminder that’s he’s in no shape to fight.

“Why didn’t you stick to the plan?” He asks finally turning to face you. Taking his statement into consideration, you lay down next to him on your back. Staring up at the ceiling, you can feel his eyes on you. “I trust you Diego, just not what’s always going on up in there.” Pointing to your head, referring to Diego’s own problem making skills. Breathing heavily you start, “I know what it’s like to die, it’s lonely and dark. You feel cold and weak, you can’t move, see, hear, or feel anything.”

Sighing you continue, “I remember the first time I died. Have I ever told you about it?”

Looking at you more intensely now he replies in a whisper, “Never.”

You glance at him for a moment before diving right back into your story, trying to make a point as to why he shouldn't be actively putting himself in danger. “I was 5 at the time, my heightened senses and all that other shit came to be before I figured out I was immortal. It was hard not understanding why I could hear so well. Or run in the dark through my house without tripping, unlike my parents, who couldn’t see shit without a flashlight.”

You kept your eyes fixed on the ceiling with a troubled expression crossing your face, letting the memories flood back into your mind. “A fire started late one night, mum had left one of her scented candles burning on a wooden table downstairs. She didn’t mean to leave it there, but the dogs were getting rowdy again, so she had to put them away in their cages. And dad was already in bed snoozing away. I could smell the smoke before I new something was wrong, then I heard my mother screaming and my dad yelling for her to calm down.”

“Shit” Diego whispered.

“The fire had burned so fast through our house, it had gone up the stairs and reached our hallway. Fortunately for my parents, their room was at the end of the hall, so their escape to freedom was easy. But unfortunately for myself, I was trapped, I couldn’t open my windows and the door handle burned to much to touch. I huddled in the corner of my room terrified, and then just like that, my door was gone and the flames shot in.” You tell him with a shaky breath as a lone tear runs down the side of your face and into your hairline.

“What did it feel like?” He asks softly, nervous as to what you’re about to say. Letting you take your time.

“It was excruciating. I’d never felt pain like it before. Sure I’d scraped my knee or walked into the wall a couple times when I was smaller, it happens. But this pain, this was like having boiling water poured over you all while standing on hot coals.”

“Jesus.”

“When the firemen found me, they thought I was a charred corpse. They picked me up and set me down in the grass, and that’s when I woke up. The guy fainted and my mother rushed over to me in hysterics.” You yawned, tired from the emotional roller-coaster you were currently putting yourself through. “After that they realized something was definitely up with me, and 7 years later they decided I was to much to handle and then ‘poof’ I was an unwilling member of the Umbrella Academy. The end.” You finish, turning your head to look directly at Diego, as he sits up on his right elbow turning to fully face you.

“I had no idea. Why haven’t you ever told me before?” He wonders.

Bringing your jaded gaze back to Diego, you go to explain. “It’s not like it’s that fun of a memory. And anyways you never asked.” You mutter, taking in a deep breath, and relaxing again.

“I guess we could stay longer...for a bit. I guess that’s okay.” He murmurs in that gravely voice of his that you’ve missed so much.

Sitting up on your left elbow to meet his dark eyes, faces inches apart, you start to contemplate where this close proximity may lead you. Smoothly hinting at your excitement you tell him while smirking, “I’ve spent one year and 7 months trying to find you, if you don’t kiss me in the next...” you don’t have time to finish before his lips come crashing onto yours for a sweet and hungry embrace.

Pulling away instantly you lightly slap him across the face, making him groan loudly and throw his hands up to his stinging skin. “What the hell, Y/N?! What is wrong with you woman?!” He exclaims muffled by his hands, until he pulls them away to reveal an incredibly confused expression littering his features.

Laughing for a moment, you smile while climbing on top of him, pinning him to the bed between your unmoving legs, “You didn’t let me finish.” You say lovingly, hovering over Diego’s shirtless body.

“Ow. Oh, oh, ow, ow, ow.” Diego suddenly says while flinching in pain at the sudden new pressure of your body weight on his torso.

“Oh, shit. Sorry love.” You tell him smiling as you lean your body onto your legs more, so you’re not completely crushing him.

Mock glaring up at you, Diego breaks out into a huge smile. “Just. Be gentle.” He says kissing you again. “God, you’re the most weirdest and fantastic person I’ve ever met.” He says breathlessly, staring deep into your beaming eyes. Not being able to hold yourself back anymore you lean down attacking his lips in a heated embrace. His hands instantly go to your hips on instinct, like he’s done it a million times before. You both begin exploring each other’s bodies like it was the first time all over again, wanting nothing more then to feel every muscle and curve both of you have to offer.

Breaking his lips away from yours, he quickly goes to tell you something important, as a fake pout falls to your face, “These have to go.” He says, as he reaches for the bottom of your white tank top and begins to pull it up, you helping him speed up the process. Taking your shirt in one hand he throws it, not giving two fucks as to where it could have landed. You also not caring in the slightest, just eager to get things rolling. Next you skillfully unclasp your bra, taking it off and flinging it off to the side. Diego stares at you with a giant grin spread across his face. Reaching out to gently caress the sides of your breasts, his hands slowly trailing up your body to bring you down to kiss him again.

“I guess I won’t be needing these.” You mumble in between kisses. Referring to your pants and underwear, annoyingly concealing the prize jewels. On both of you in fact. Awkwardly struggling to rip your pants off, you lay next to Diego for a brief moment finally getting your jeans and chucking them across the small room. Jumping back into action, you straddle him, hands roaming all over each other once again. As your lips make contact, savoring every second with him for as long as you can.

Moaning in deep satisfaction you take a breath to tell Diego, “As much as I’m digging you in white, these things gotta go.” You explain while kissing his cheek, sneakily reaching down to tug at his tight white underwear that now are concealing a noticeable bulge. “You first mi amor.” He purrs seductively in your ear, you just about die. As gracefully as you can muster, you tear your undergarments off accidentally kneeing Diego in the gut, thankfully not near his stab wound. “Oh shit.” You laugh breathlessly, as Diego grunts in pain but only for a moment, before flipping you over, pinning you to the bed. “I’ll let that slid.” He says smiling at you, kissing you again real quick before he takes off his own underwear. Revealing the true king jewels, you’ve been absolutely dying for, no pun intended.

Diego looks deeply into your eyes, opening up your legs and kissing your inner thigh. Sending shock-waves of pleasure and pure joy throughout your whole being. God it’s been a long fucking time, you thought. As agonizingly slow as ever, Diego gently kisses your stomach. Inching his way up to your mouth with light butterfly kisses that make their way up in between your breasts, then to your collarbone, neck, cheeks, and eventually arriving at your wanting lips. All the while he continues to feverishly feel you up, you not shying away as you do the exact same. In true Diego style, without warning he thrusts into you, making you moan loudly in pleasant surprise. His thrusts are slow and full of passion at first, both of you savoring the moment for as long as you can take. Until it’s not enough for you anymore, you begin bucking your hips into his, trying to get more friction. Diego takes your not-so-subtle hint and obliges by picking up the pace., pounding into you harder, perfectly hitting your sweet spot every time.

 “Ah, fuck.” 

He grunts while pushing you further into the mattress with that muscular heavenly body of his. He sloppily kisses the side of your opened mouth that’s quietly releasing satisfied moans with each new thrust of his cock into your soaking walls. To say that you are on cloud nine would be a severe understatement. It’s been way to damn long since you’ve had a good fuck, and there was no way anyone from the 60′s was getting anything from you while you patiently waited for Diego. The bed shakes as his sweaty body rocks you back and forth into the soft blankets, your hands hold onto his back for support while he continues to fill you up to the max as he pulls in and out of you like a madman. You suddenly let out a shaky gasp when his hard cock hits your sweet spot in the most perfect of ways. He leans his elbows onto the bed as he looks down at your pleased face with a smile, satisfied with his fruitful work at making you get this way, so completely undone, and all because of Diego. You bite your lip as a knot begins to form into your dripping core, you open your eyes to watch as Diego appears to mirror you, he begins to moan loader as he starts pumping even harder into you, teetering on the edge of oblivion, you about to do the same. A couple more deep thrusts from Diego’s angelic body sends you fully over the edge, screaming in ecstasy as your orgasm explodes throughout your entire being. Practically sending sparks of electricity racing through you, your walls tighter around Diego’s cock as you ride out your high. With one more ragged thrust, Diego moans as his own orgasm hits, loudly spilling into you with everything he’s got left to give.

Kissing your sweaty cheek, Diego pulls out of you, flopping on the bed to your right while making it shake for a second. “God I love you, Y/N.” He says tiredly, not sure if it’s from the blood loss or your goddess-like body. Turning to face Diego, you scoot in closer, cuddling him as you rest your head on his shoulder. “I love you too, my hairy wolfman.” You tease him with a laugh. Closing your eyes you start to feel the weight of the past 24 hours hit you like a sack of bricks. Smiling in content and comfort, you reach down to pull the covers over your naked bodies, then throwing your left arm around Diego’s chest, hugging him gently before immediately dozing off. Diego lightly kissing your forehead, falling asleep shortly after.

——

Meanwhile.

“Hey, while those two love birds are busy I’m gonna head out, be back soon. Aight.” Lila tells Elliot, waving at him as she hastily slips out the backdoor, like a thief in the night.

Waving awkwardly back he watches as she leaves, hearing the sound of a projectile hitting the bedroom window. Causing him to jump, and grumpily walk downstairs with his tuna mold in hand.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #246: GATHERINGS

August, 1984

Family feud! Guest-starring SERSI of the Eternals!

She comes!

A portent of times to come! I hear a faint rumbling of leather jackets from distant years...

Also, hey! She-Hulk! I missed you!

The Avengers have been through the Secret Wars and participated in the Wraith War! What’s next for our band of heroes?

Maybe parties? The cover makes it look like a party is going on before some Kirby-looking guys crashed.

But also? Vision’s vague scheming to raise the Avengers’ profile continues as he and Scarlet Witch take a trip to visit President Reagan and First Lady Reagan at the White House.

Weird thing is that we don’t get an unobscructed view of Reagan’s face. He’s either back to the ‘camera’ or cropped on the panel border. Weird, since this wasn’t a problem last time he appeared in this book. Y’know, the time some plant people tried to hold him for ransom? That time?

President Didn’t-Pay-for-the-Likeness-Rights thanks Vision for taking time to personally brief him on all the biz the Avengers have been up to.

President Reagan: “I wish we could talk like this more often! The National Security Council keeps me posted on your missions, but there’s nothing like getting the news firsthand.”

Vision: “I quite agree, Mr. President. In fact, I have a few suggestions for making the lines of communication between Avengers Mansion and the White House more... shall we say... direct?”

He suggests they speak in private which Reagan gladly agrees to, shooing Scarlet Witch and Mrs. Reagan out. To Scarlet Witch’s surprise because he sprang the trip on Washington on her and now he’s sprung this on her.

Also, every time Vision meets someone in private and the conversation takes place off-panel, they suddenly come around to his point of view so.... uh...

Well, I’m sure it’s fine.

Meanwhile, we get back to Captain Monica Marvel Rambeau’s subplot. Remember how she worried after getting back from Secret Wars that she had no explanation to give her family for being missing for several days? And was thinking of telling them about her secret superhero thing?

Well, she calls home to New Orleans and her presumably firefighter dad answers. I presume he’s a firefighter because there’s a firefighter hat and coat hanging up prominently in the background. We call that environmental storytelling.

Monica’s mom isn’t home so Monica asks for her parents to call her back when they’re both available.

Monica: “In a way, I’m glad momma wasn’t home. That gives me more time to figure out how I’m going to tell them that their ‘little girl’ is leading a double life... as an Avenger called Captain Marvel!”

... Geez, her costume looks so weird when there’s nobody in it.

Monica ponders just bringing it up casually by RECAPPING HER ENTIRE BACKSTORY! Which, in fairness, would be an appropriate way to handle it. But she decides that just going ‘yeah I was helping old family friend Professor LeClare investigate a secret lab on an oil platform, punched a machine, got powers, and then joined the Avengers’ would sound crazy and that there must be a better way to tell them.

I say, take it slow and ramp up. Start from ‘I have superpowers’, do a little pew pew flashlight beam and let their questions guide your explanation.

Meanwhile again but elsewhere, Wasp van Dyne is just chilling at Avengers Mansion, bumming herself out rereading the World According to Garp, and receiving a phone call from West Avengers Chairman Hawkeye.

He tells her that he found a great HQ for the new West Coast Avengers, some old silent film star’s home, and he’s overseeing renovations now.

This ongoing Hawkeye real estate subplot is to get you excited for the upcoming West Coast Avengers series. Are you?

I dread it.

Anyway, Starfox comes in after the phone call and recognizes that Janet is in a Mood. A very bored mood. A post-chairperson funk.

Wasp: “It’s just that Wanda and the Vision are in Washington... Hawkeye and his new wife are setting up a new team in California... Cap and Thor are away on missions of their own... Everybody’s doing something! Everybody but me! It’s funny, after all we’ve been through lately, especially with that horrible Magneto, you’d think I’d appreciate a little leisure time. But instead, I’m bored out of my mind!”

Magneto kissing her really teed her off if that’s what she’s focusing on from the whole Secret Wars thing and not having died.

Starfox has just the answer for Wasp’s post-Magneto-kissing blues though.

PARTY.

He was on his way to a great party and Wasp can be his plus one!

Meanwhile, on the Washington to New York plane, Vision and Scarlet Witch.

She’s confused why they didn’t just take the Quinjets that they have instead of flying on a commercial airline but Vision says that getting out among the people is just good public relations.

I mean, he’s not wrong. But also flying in public, in your costumes, seems like it runs the risk of aggroing a supervillain attack.

It doesn’t happen but I wouldn’t have been surprised if it did.

The flight attendant asks Vision if he drinks before course correcting into asking him if he wants a drink.

I don’t know what’s more amazing here. Wanda going ‘he never has coffee at home’ like that coffee ad that Airplane spoofed.

Or Vision patting himself on the back for connecting to the common man with his drink order.

Simply superb.

Back at the casa Rambeau, Maria Rambeau returns and then returns Monica’s call. Monica says she’s going to come over for dinner and then a panel later, she’s knocking on the door.

Her parents are confused because it’s a twenty-minute drive between Monica’s house and theirs but that’s just part of what Monica wants to explain to them.

I see Monica decided to just jump into her explanation.

Back in New York, Janet frets over whether she’s dressed right for the party but Starfox just dismisses that as one of Earth’s weird mores. Why, he only wears the one outfit and that’s just gonna have to be good enough.

They arrive at the party and it seems to be a hobnobbin’ sort of event, with people discussing court settlements and acting. Also, She-Hulk is there. Hi, She-Hulk!

Glad Stern found another excuse to include you after Byrne stole you away to the land of the Fantastic.

She-Hulk says she met the host at an exotic bakery shop just last week and that’s how she scored the invite.

I wonder what made these baked goods so exotic. And I’m wondering if it wasn’t actually erotic. Do I think that She-Hulk would purchase a butt cake? Yes, yes I do.

She asks Starfox how he knows the host and, well, he doesn’t. He heard about the party and decided to invite himself (and Wasp) along. I.e. crash.

But the host...

ITS SHE!

SERSI!

SHE COMES!

But the host, Sylvia Sersi, isn’t too bothered by the pair of party-crashing Avengers and has She-Hulk introduce them.

Starfox is enchanted to meet Sersi and she likewise but they’d best not be too enchanted to meet each other because I’m pretty sure they’re not too distant relations.

Mentor founded the Titan colony of the Eternals and the Eternals have all been around a while so there’s not that many branches between Starfox and Sersi, I don’t think.

Anyyyyyway.

A drunk man pauses before a mirror to tidy up his tie and gets a startle when a Watcher-looking guy that isn’t the Watcher because he has hair appears in the mirror instead of his own face.

When Sersi comes over to investigate she tells him he must have imagined it and sends the guy away for some air but then interrogates the mirror face man and calls him Domo.

Domo, in the mirror: “We need you here in Olympia! Everyone is needed for the final decision!”

Sersi: “I told you before, I don’t care! Go ahead and make your big decision! It won’t affect me, because I intend to go right on doing as I please!”

Then she turns the mirror into a picture of penguins??

Her powers are great indeed.

Although her investment in the community is less so.

Whatever this mysterious decision everyone is voting on, it is clearly less important than this rockin’ party. This party has a She-Hulk!

Back over at the Rambeaus, Monica decides to just rip off the band-aid and tell her parents that she’s Captain Marvel. They find it hard to believe so she just pulls out her costume and lightspeeds into it.

Harder to hold doubts when your daughter glows with an awesome power.

Frank Rambeau: “It’s true... my little girl’s an Avenger. Hey, that means... you’ve met Captain America!”

Frank jumping right to the important points.

Thankfully, Monica’s parents are very supportive. And actually like the Avengers. You have cool parents, Monica.

Frank Rambeau: “Monica, I don’t know what to say! The Avengers are heroes... like Cap and the Black Panther and Thor... They’re like a legend! To think that you’re one of them -- !”

Maria Rambeau: “We’re very, very proud of you, dear... Prouder than we ever thought possible!”

Very cool parents.

Meanwhile, back at the party, mirror spooked guy (apparently Harry) goes out for air like Sersi suggested and then sees something else which spooks him even harder!

He runs from the party babbling about seeing things or not seeing things and not sticking around to sort out which.

Then a bunch of goons crash the party by flying through the terrace doors.

Look at these total goons.

Starfox steps forward and tries to defuse the situation both by words

Starfox: “Easy, my friends! I’m sure you don’t want to hurt anyone!”

And by shooting pleasure beams from his mind.

Predictably, his pleasure beam, besides being creepy, can’t be allowed to be too effective.

If it actually worked we wouldn’t have conflict and plot.

So like the Hulk in Incredible Hulk #300, these dudes called Delphans just slap Starfox out of the way.

Then superhero number two steps up.

One of the Delphans say that they need to get “that witch” before she can cause them any grief and She-Hulk was in proximity and assumes they meant her and takes exception to that.

She-Hulk: “‘Witch’, huh? You wouldn’t mean me, would you? That’s a bad choice of words, but you’re right about one thing... I can give plenty of grief!”

The Delphan just immediately hits her with an energy pole which just pisses off She-Hulk and ruins her party dress. Thankfully she had the unstable molecules FF costume on underneath.

She dresses in layers.

Delphan: “You’re still standing? But that photon-burst would have stunned the mighty Karkas!”

She-Hulk: “You stupid jerk! Do you have any idea how hard it is to find nice things in my size?!”

She-Hulk and Starfox start beating on the Delphans but its Sersi’s party and she can shoot eye beams if she wants to, eye beams if she wants to.

Sersi: “I should have known Domo would send you Delphans after me! Well, it won’t work! You’re not taking me away without a fight!”

Not just eyebeams but apparently a piggifying beam!

A singing piggifying beam!

Oh, sure, the Delphan says that its a transmutive ability but I know whats what.

Her name is Sersi, which is like Cerci, and she can shoot pig beams at people, especially Greek soldiers.

Unfortunately, like other witches before her, she needs some wrist range of movement to do her business and grabbing her by the arms will just nullify her.

Sigh.

If only he didn’t have armored outpanties, she could kick him in the business.

But fortunately, Wasp “can blow up a small house” van Dyne won’t be stopped by armored outerwear and shoots the Delphan grabbing Sersi right in the butt.

That is, Wasp shoots him in the butt, not that he’s grabbing Sersi in the butt.

Meanwhile, over in the Vision and Scarlet Witch subplot, their plane lands at LaGuardia and they’re instantly accosted by journalists who wants Vision’s take on rumors that the president is going to make chairmanship of the Avengers a cabinet-level post.

Vision coyly tells them that he and the president discussed many things but he’s not at liberty to confirm anything.

Hmm.

Then Vision excuses himself, saying that he and Wanda have to get back to Avengers Mansion.

Scarlet Witch: “We certainly do!” And when we get there, we are going to have a little talk!

Seems Wanda is annoyed at all this being left out of the loop.

Back at the A-plot, where A stands for Avengers go to a party and then get into a fight, Sersi gets fed up with these shenanigans and threatens to turn the Delphans into worms but she gets grabbed by the wrists again, this time by power-dampening chonky handcuffs, and dragged away by the Delphans to their spaceship that was hovering right outside the party.

Starfox and Wasp fly out in pursuit, with non-flying She-Hulk complaining about being left behind.

Wasp: “After them, Starfox! We mustn’t let them get away!”

Starfox: “I quite agree! Hostesses such as Ms. Sersi are all too rare!”

Wasp: “No kidding! Once we rescue her, I want to find out how she does that trick with her eyes!”

... Really.

The eyes specifically? Not the singing pig beam?

Huh. To each their own.

The ship takes off shortly after Wasp and Starfox stow aboard and the two heroes resume beating Delphan ass to try to save Sersi.

Lead Delphan: “We have the advantage in number, but they’re still making us look like idiots! We can’t let them beat us now! Have to initiate transport... while there’s still a chance!”

The ship then disappears with a FWOF!

And reappears above the mountains of Northern Greece.

Apparently, Eternal transportation is like the kind in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy because Starfox and Wasp are discombobulated and nauseated by the transport.

The Lead Delphan seizes the opportunity while the bull is hot and pulls the lever to make the ship just completely disassemble.

The Delphans take advantage of the heroes startlement to beat the shit out of Starfox in midair.

Clever. But rude.

Sometime later, Starfox comes to in Olympia to discover that he and Wasp are completely surrounded and in the shit.

Domo: “Citizens of Olympia!! At last, we all stand together... reunited with our Polar and Pacific cousins! Our destiny beckons! But before the ritual may begin, we must first deal with these two... who have intruded into the affairs of the Eternals!”

Hey, dick! They don’t come to a party you’re crashing and slap the host!

But I guess we’re going to meet all the Eternals next time.

What a fun coincidence that I’m hitting this point of the story when the Eternals movie is just a few months away.

Follow @essential-avengers​ because one day I’ll read comics about Sersi wearing a leather jacket. Like and reblog for the same reason or for different reasons.

[dukethomas]

Summary: Duke and Damian, over the years. 

Written for @duketectivecomics’ Duke Week! Day Four is Reverse Robin, though I modified it so it could be Reverse Batfam. Reverse Batkid? Still works.

-

Duke is nine. He’s Batman’s partner, Lark, and helping Batman punch the living daylights out of criminals helps him forget his parents’ grins and their laughter, and his laughter. (Bruce benches him whenever he’s working on a Joker case. Duke doesn’t complain.) It’s fun, and he’s good at it.

However, he’s heard enough about the League of Assassins, and he’s watched footage in training of Bruce fighting off a whole horde of Assassins (with a capital A) to know that these guys aren’t to be trifled with. And while Duke has spirit and guts and instinct and smarts, what he doesn’t have is the grace anyone in that footage has. He’s still training. He has a long way to go.

And he definitely can’t fight off an Assassin on his own. He’ll try, sure, but he has his limits.

So when he runs to open the door—he and Alfred have made a game out of it, because they kept running into each other whenever the doorbell rung. Whoever gets there first gets a fresh batch of cookies or tea made just for them by the loser—his eyes widen and his jaws drop when he sees Talia al Ghul.

And a boy, who’s taller than him, so Duke assumes he’s older. The boy sniffs and turns his nose up at Duke.

A few seconds too late, Duke settles into his fighting stance. His fists are up and he stares down Talia al Ghul and the boy, hoping something in his eyes would tell them to back down, something steely and indomitable, like all the books say.

Talia al Ghul chuckles. “Down, boy,” she says, her eyes glittering with mirth. “Neither of us intend to cause harm.”

“Speak for yourself,” the boy mutters, glancing at Duke, but Talia al Ghul doesn’t seem to hear it. The boy is unsettlingly quiet and still for someone who doesn’t even look that much older than Duke. He holds himself weirdly. It’s not unlike the entitled rich kid pose, but it’s also tense and lax at the same time.

Like how Bruce fights, Duke realizes. His mind is tense but his body is calm.

“Uh,” he says ever so eloquently. “Bruce! Alfred!”

Bruce shows up three minutes later, and the boy inhales sharply, but softly. Duke is already getting tired of the oxymorons.

“This,” Talia al Ghul says with a light flourish, “is your son. Damian al Ghul Wayne.”

I’m sorry, what?

Duke glances back at Bruce to see what he thinks, and Bruce’s eyebrows are tightly knit together. “You told me you lost the child,” he murmurs.

“I lied,” responds Talia al Ghul, a line of regret tracing her nonchalant tone. “My father’s wishes.”

And what happens after devolves into boring grown-up talk, so Duke stops paying attention. He keeps an eye on their respective body languages, in case this turns into a fight.

But he hates being by adults who are talking without him with nothing else to do, so he turns to the boy—Damian.

“Our names both start with a D,” he offers, smiling at Damian.

Damian doesn’t smile back. Instead, he scoffs, and says nothing else. What Duke has gathered is that Damian was raised with the League of Assassins, which means chances of him being an Assassin too are nearly one-hundred percent. But Talia al Ghul has years, decades, maybe centuries of training on Damian, and Damian can’t hide the worry in his eyes nearly as well. Plus, Duke’s good at reading people, Bruce says it’s a talent.

So he tries again to talk to Damian. “You’re coming to stay with us, right?” A small nod. Success! “I gotta show you all the good places to hide. It won’t hide us from Alfred, because Alfred knows all, but if you don’t want to listen to Bruce, well.” He gestures at Bruce and Talia al Ghul jabbering on about something adult-y.

“Tt,” is the only sound that comes from Damian, and it’s the third oxymoron so far. It’s simultaneously amused and disapproving, and that’s when Duke thinks he knows the problem.

Damian has a shadow cast over him, a long and dark one he can’t seem to shake.

Well, that’s fine. Duke has always clung to the light better than the shadows, he’ll just be Damian’s light as well as Batman’s.

-

Damian doesn’t warm up to Duke quickly, though not for lack of trying on Duke’s part. The older boy keeps brushing him away and getting all huffy, and downright rude. Once Duke sneaks up on Damian and he whips around with a blade pointed towards Duke’s head. Yeesh.

Duke eventually decides it’s easier to stay away. Do his Lark business, go to school, let Bruce deal with Damian.

And he thinks Damian resents him for that. Duke can see why—Bruce gets all stiff and cold with Damian, like he was in the first month of Duke living there, but he’s caught Damian lingering in the doorway of Duke’s bedroom watching Bruce hover around Duke more than once—but honestly? He’s just tired of it. And he wishes he could help, but clearly there’s something deeper there.

Still. Duke doesn’t dislike Damian. Damian’s just… rough around the edges. And sometimes those rough edges are deadly and sharp and Alfred tells him to stay away from knives in the kitchen (even though Duke’s fought off goons with knives before).

(And Duke’s used to rough edges, he thinks, shuddering as a boisterous laugh comes from the TV when he does his homework.)

“Hey, Batman?” he asks one night during a stakeout.

Bruce looks over to him, eyebrow clearly raised even if Duke can’t see it through the cowl.

Duke shines his flashlight into Bruce’s eyes, earning him a curse and a scowl. “When are you going to talk to Dami—um, D?”

“Put that down,” Bruce commands gently, pulling the flashlight away, but Duke just redirects it. “I’ve been talking to him.”

“Yeah, to tell him off! When are you going to treat him like your son, B? You treat me more like a son than him, and I’m not even—” He cuts himself off. “I’m not even your son.” Which shouldn’t feel like it’s gnawing at him inside to say, because it’s true. Doug Thomas is his dad and will always be, but…

He shakes his head. The focus is on Damian right now.

“Are you ever going to let him… y’know?” he blurts. He’s always finding Damian in the Cave (Batcave, Duke insists, but Bruce just ruffles his hair) wielding his sword. He has half a mind to ask Damian to train with him, because Duke knows if he wants to be better, he has to learn from the best. And Damian looks incredible when he practices. All fluid and graceful, like he learned how to fight before he could walk.

Bruce’s hand reaches towards Duke, then draws back. “We don’t use lethal methods, Lark.”

“Then teach him non-lethal methods.”

The answer seems clear as daylight to Duke, though evidently, not so much to Bruce. He hopes it helps anyways.

And then the thugs they’re on the lookout for walk into the warehouse with a confident swagger, and it’s showtime. By the time they’re done, Duke is grinning and bouncing, saying, “I just knocked that guy out, did you see that? That was so cool!”

Batman never loses his stony demeanor while in costume, but if the edges of Bruce’s mouth curve upwards on the Batmobile ride home, Duke knows to not tell anyone.

Unfortunately, his dreams are less than pleasant.

It’s his parents again. When is it not? They’re pressed up against the glass, his mom has this crooked smirk, and she snarls at him. She bangs her fist on the glass and yells, “I’m going to kill you!”

Duke backs up, finding only a foot of space between the glass and the wall behind him. “Mom,” he croaks out, but she doesn’t hear. She never does. “Mom, it’s me, it’s Duke, your son.” His eyes burn and tears come spilling out.

The lights flicker once, twice, before zapping out completely, leaving him and his parents in darkness.

His mom cackles, and tells him, “I know. I know!” and she’s more aware than she’s been in months, and she barrels her head into the glass. It cracks, shards of glass flying around Duke.

A plea is on his lips as she lunges at him, and he jolts up, his shirt damp with sweat.

He’s in his bedroom at Wayne Manor, he dully realizes. He’s still shrouded with darkness, but his parents aren’t here. They had considered moving his parents on the grounds, but ultimately decided against it.

He lets himself pant, gripping his bedsheets. Would he be a bad son if he thinks that was a good decision?

Duke hears footsteps outside his door and freezes, his heart pounding in his ears. He squeezes his eyes shut.

Someone opens the door, and there’s a click—a familiar one, from the light switch. Duke cranes his neck to see Damian entering, the older boy awkward and groggy in his movements, but there.

Damian is still in the doorframe, his eyes roaming the room and looking anywhere but at Duke. Something gleams in his left pocket. “I heard… there were screams. Did you need something, Thomas?”

“Please,” Duke whispers, eyes wide and staring at the shadow behind Damian. “Can I have a hug?”

Damian pauses, steps back, then moves forward, making a beeline towards Duke. He envelops Duke into a hug, oddly detached and patting Duke on the back, but a hug nonetheless. Duke leans into the touch, feeling a tear roll down his face and onto Damian’s shirt. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his throat tight.

“It’s… alright,” Damian replies. “I was already awake. And I have other items of clothing.”

For some reason, that brings on the sobs into full-force, with Duke gasping for breath as he lets it all out. Damian is there, still patting Duke on the back until it becomes a rhythmic comfort.

Duke doesn’t know when he drifts off to sleep, but he wakes up with Damian’s shirt draped over him with his green blanket.

Sunshine slips in through the curtains, hastily pulled open, as sunshine blooms in Duke’s chest. He sprints downstairs, jumping and skipping stairs like he’s walking on air.

“Slow down, Master Duke!” Alfred reprimands, and Duke shrugs and does as Alfred says, but only a little bit.

He almost runs straight into Damian, but he stops himself just in time. He opens his mouth to thank Damian, but Damian furrows his eyebrows at Duke and says, “Did you talk to Father? He spoke to me about training,” and a tension has been lifted from Damian’s shoulders. He’s springier.

“I think?” Duke says, knocking his knuckles on his head trying to recall what else happened last night. “Yeah?”

Damian stares at him, his brown eyes meeting Duke’s own with a hint of something gleaming in the light. “Thank you,” he tells Duke honestly.

“No problem!” Duke chirps. And before he can take it back, he says, “That’s what brothers are for.”

(He doesn’t take it back when asked about it later. The term “brothers” feels right, even if they only started having amiable conversations last night. He doesn’t think about the implications.)

-

It’s six months of non-lethal training until Damian is deemed fit to go out into the field. Duke leans on Damian’s shoulder as the older boy sketches out a mannequin with armor. It’s when “Shadow” is written in neat cursive that Duke realizes it’s meant to be Damian’s suit.

He blinks, his eyes drooping.

He doesn’t have patrol tonight, or tomorrow for that matter, but he really needs to lay off the late-night patrols. And the late-night training. He doesn’t want to fall asleep in the middle of class.

“That looks cool,” he comments, taking in the design. It’s gray and black, a bat in the chest. Damian fills in the outline of a cowl, and—

“Hey, wait, is this just a mini Batman costume?”

Damian stiffens. Almost imperceptibly, but Duke is busy soaking up Damian’s warmth right now, so he notices.

Duke moves the desk lamp so he can see the drawing more clearly. “C’mon, Damian,” he says, “I know you can be more original than this.”

“Tt,” Damian responds, still tracing over the lines he’s already drawn. “It has already proven itself to be a suitable design; why bother?”

A curl falls in front of Duke’s eyes, and he blows it away. Huffs, puffs, and the whole shebang. “Because you’re not Bruce? I have my own suit. I chose the colors!” Yellow with black accents, because it’s always been a hopeful color for Duke, and that’s what he wants to inspire—hope. Also, it’s a lark color scheme, minus brown, because wearing brown? Yuck.

Yeah, sure, Lark has been described as a child flashlight several times, but Duke stands by his decision. Even now, thinking about his suit makes him smile.

Damian pauses for a while after that. His hand stills. “Are you suggesting Father isn’t someone I should aspire to be like?”

“Be like,” Duke points out. “Not be. Seriously. I think you would look really cool in green!”

A scoff comes from Damian at that. “I chose the name Shadow for a reason, I will not go out in bright colors and compromise stealth.”

Duke yawns and snuggles closer into Damian’s shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Dami. I’m just saying, you don’t have to be Batman.” His eyes close, and it’s a sweet relief. Damian doesn’t respond for a while, so Duke adds, voice soft, “I think Lark looks cooler than Batman, anyhow.”

He wakes up on Damian’s bed, the older boy and his sketch conspicuously missing. When Duke heads down to the Batcave for training, he sees a new paper pinned. He recognizes the swoopy thin lines of Damian’s art, but the design is totally new.

The suit is wicked cool, dark gray and all jagged edges where the Batman suit has smooth lines, and a little circle to the side of the chest with a Bat rather than one spread across the chest. It’s cloaked rather than caped, the hood concealing hair instead of a cowl. A black domino mask with white lenses covers the eyes. Golden accent lines run throughout the suit, and Duke wonders if people affiliated with the Bat can only really have one color scheme: black, gray, and yellow or gold.

He grins, looking at it, but turns at the quiet footfalls he’s been learning to recognize.

“Good morning!” he chirps at Damian, who’s rubbing the grogginess out of his eyes. Despite that, he’s already dressed, wearing a forest green sweater and black jeans.

Damian half-smiles and arches an eyebrow. “Do you still believe that Lark’s suit is the coolest?”

And c’mon, Duke has to defend his honor. He sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry. “Always and forever.”

“Well then, it appears you have been misinformed,” Damian hums.

Damian’s suit is completed within the week, and Duke has to admit—it looks even cooler when it’s real. Lark’s is still the best, though.

-

Duke would be lying if he says he isn’t dumbfounded every time he gets to visit the Watchtower. It’s in outer freakin’ space, of course he’s impressed. His headquarters is a literal cave. Even with four years as Lark under his belt, his jaw still drops.

Batman’s here for a routine League meeting. Normally, he and Damian don’t come with, but another sidekick—Duke makes a face at the word, he prefers the term partners, but the media sticks with that—debuted the other day. He goes by Kid Flash, and he seems pretty cool. Duke’s looking forward to meeting him… if the Flashes ever showed up on time.

Which they do not. So Duke and Damian wait, along with some others—Aqualad, Teen Lantern, Red Arrow, and Crush this time around—with Hawkwoman as their babysitter of sorts. She’s not the most thrilled with this assignment, but Duke can’t blame her, it’s pretty boring.

Duke and Damian sit with each other by the wall. Superboy should have been here but he and Superman had civilian duties to take care of, so they sit in comfortable silence.

He gives up within two minutes. It’s just too long to wait while doing nothing. He stands up to have a look around the Watchtower, maybe he can even find that huge window that shows off the expanse of space. His English teacher will love the words he writes about it.

Something catches his eye, a dull silver in the edges of his vision. Duke heads towards it, and to his delight, Hawkwoman left her mace on a table. A grin splits his face and he reaches out to hold it.

“What are you doing?” Damian hisses from behind him, pulling his hands away from the mace. “Don’t touch that!”

“But Shadow!” Duke argues. “It’s right there! It’s not even harmful, I think! It’s made out of alien metal, right? That’s so baller, I have to feel it for myself.”

Damian sighs and puts his head in his gauntlet-covered hands. “Nth metal, Lark. It’s made of Nth metal, and is potentially very dangerous.”

Duke takes the spare moment of distraction to hold the Nth metal, and he grins up into the ceiling. A mistake, he realizes as industrial lights beam down at him, causing him to squint and glance down.

Damian moves forward to pull the mace out of his hands, except there’s a quality to him, a certain golden sheen, and Duke backs up. He blinks, and Damian hasn’t even moved, but then he does, again, in the exact same way as before.

Damian’s lenses widen. “Lark, let that go. Now!” he commands. “It has an effect on you. Your eyes are—”

Duke blinks a few more times, not hearing the rest of that. His vision is so much sharper now. It’s making him a little dizzy, but he doesn’t say that.

Instead, he does let go of the mace, and it clatters to the floor noisily.

“Shadow,” he blurts, lurching forward.

Damian catches him and pulls him up into an embrace. Duke may be twelve now, but he’s reminded of his dad’s hugs. Firm and protective. He leans into it. “Are you alright?” Damian whispers into Duke’s ear.

Duke’s vision swims with lights and colors and brightness. He buries his face into Damian’s chest, relishing the darkness. He nods.

Damian’s hand rests on Duke’s back. “We’ll… we’ll figure this out,” he promises.

-

Duke swallows down a glass of punch at the side of the room in the middle of a gala. It slides down his throat and sloshes around in his stomach uneasily.

He stares at Cass, quiet for a ten-year-old but the brightest person in the room. Everywhere she goes, by Bruce’s side or not, people flock to her and their gazes are drawn in her direction. She glides through the gala graceful as the moon, but with the attention she’s getting, you’d think she’s the sun.

The gala is being held in celebration of Bruce’s adoption of Cass. A darling princess for the Wayne lineage, says one newspaper. Bruce Wayne’s pity adoptee, sneers another.

And Duke can relate. Bruce and Alfred tried to hide it from him, but the tabloids didn’t have anything good to say about him either. But Duke’s mind lingers on the difference.

He shakes his head, staring at his deep brown eyes through the cerise lense of the punch. It’s silly. Of course Bruce wouldn’t adopt him; Duke has perfectly good parents already. It would make the paperwork easier should—when his parents get cured.

“Something’s wrong,” Damian observes, walking up behind Duke.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Duke replies, ignoring the way his chest twists at the words.

He can practically feel Damian raise his eyebrows. “You’re lying, and we both know it. Come with me, Duke.”

Duke follows without a retort, and Damian leads him to the balcony. The gentle moonlight and starlight welcomes him more than the harsher lights of the chandeliers inside ever have.

“Since when did you become the emotionally intuitive one?” Duke asks, crossing his arms over the railing.

Damian huffs. “I am still not aware of what’s going on with you. But I am… I’m your older brother. It’s my duty.”

Duke hums at that. The description resonates deep in his bones, a familiar comfort, and it had never felt wrong. More like puzzle pieces snapping together.

Brother often means they share a father. It just as often can mean they do not. And Duke didn’t think they did—did they?

“It’s not Cass’ fault,” he says, playing a mental game with the Gotham skyline. He always tries to find his old neighborhood, before he got taken in by Bruce. It helps him remember, so one day, he might come home and he wouldn’t have forgotten. “It’s my brain that’s being fucky.”

“Language,” Damian reprimands under his breath. He then speaks in a louder tone, now meant for Duke’s ears. “I didn’t think so. You were never the resentful type. I’m grateful for that.”

Duke throws his head back to laugh. Five years ago, Damian would rather stab him than talk about feelings like this. Duke wanted to train with Damian. Funny how things change. “No, it’s—it’s something else. Bruce adopted Cass. That’s what’s bothering me, I think.”

Damian tilts his head at Duke. “Would you prefer for Father,”—Baba, now, behind closed doors, but Duke wouldn’t pry—“to adopt you?”

“No. I don’t think so. Would I? I already have a dad.” Duke sucks in a breath. He’d gone to visit them last weekend. No improvements, as per usual. Not even lucid enough to give Duke death threats.

“Family isn’t bound by blood,” Damian reminds him softly. “I have a brother now, and a sister. Who’s to say you can’t have two fathers?”

Duke blinks rapidly. His finger brushes the corner of his eye and comes away wet. “And I’m not a bad son? I’m not abandoning my dad for Bruce?”

“Absolutely not.”

And just like that, a dam bursts. One tear rolls down Duke’s cheeks, then another, then several more. Despite this, hope settles into his chest with the cool touch of the moon and stars.

“Thank you, Dami,” Duke says, jumping into a hug with the taller boy (though Damian won’t remain that for long—Duke shot up rapidly in the last year or so, and he’s quickly approaching Damian’s height).

Damian returns the hug, his chin warm against Duke’s shoulder when he tells Duke, “Anytime.”

-

Damian is dead.

Duke’s breath hitches, with quiet little Cass by his side and Steph and Harper there for moral support. The funeral is closed casket—the cover story had been kidnappers and an explosion, and thus, no body to bury.

Duke had seen Damian’s body. He and Bruce were a moment too late. Duke is fast, faster than Bruce when desperate, but he had glimpsed a moment into the future and fell back, momentarily blinded by the explosion that hadn’t even happened yet.

Maybe if he hadn’t relied on his powers, maybe if he’d pushed past that to run, maybe if he arrived a minute or two earlier, Damian wouldn’t have—

Cass squeezes his hand. Duke squeezes back, numb to the core. He lets go and steps back, into the shade of a tree.

Damian’s funeral is held on a day where the sun glares, its heat searing into their skin. It’s not right. Nothing about this is right. Damian is—was—seventeen.

After the funeral, Duke writes a note to Bruce. He writes that he’s resigning as Lark. He can’t do this anymore, not when Lark’s partner is Shadow as well as Batman. His words tumble out without eloquence, and his tears smear the ink.

He flees.

And maybe he’s a coward. He can live with that. But Gotham—the city of rebirth, he liked to call it. The city of new beginnings. The city that had always seemed like stubbornness and perseverance and hope. It was Damian’s beginning, but it was also his end.

And Duke remembers why another name was given to Gotham.

(City of death. Death and rebirth is the whole phrase. He can’t ever forget that.)

It’s marred with the memory of them, of Damian, of his parents, of the kid that hoped and told himself if no one else would help, he would. Duke can’t stay here. No matter how much this feels like a betrayal to his family, to his father that believed Gotham would shine true, to his mother who came here to start a new life, to Damian whose smile was like Gotham’s sun, he can’t stay. He can’t. He can’t.

So what if Duke is a traitor? He doesn’t have many left to betray.

Instead, he seeks refuge in Blüdhaven, notorious for being the only city worse than Gotham. A simple city, one that held no pretenses of goodness, one that wouldn’t betray Duke.

Duke thought he was Damian’s light, but now that Damian’s gone, he knows better.

Damian was a light all on his own, and without him, Duke’s light shatters into tiny shards.

One morning not long after the funeral, Duke wakes up to find the sun assaulting his eyes, which is a rarer occurrence in Blüdhaven than in Gotham.

He shuts the blinds and cries in the quiet, shadowed room, his chest heaving with every sob, painfully aware that every gasped breath is a breath Damian will never get to take.

-

(The next two years seem to fly by. Duke becomes Blüdhaven’s Signal, and begins to take on the local gangs. He dismantles them from the inside out, with a focus he didn’t often have before.

He becomes an emancipated minor at barely fifteen, and he enrolls himself into a public high school. He used to have a 4.0 GPA. Now, with late nights spent fighting, and early mornings spent applying makeup over the bruises, his school performance dips.

A boy, small and skinny, appears on his doorstep. Duke recognizes him—it’s Timothy Drake, the next door neighbor who Duke would visit every once in a while, the boy with the emptiest house Duke has ever seen. “I know you used to be Lark,” Tim Drake tells him, “that Bruce Wayne is Batman, and that Damian used to be Shadow.”

Duke flinches and nearly slams the door in tiny Tim’s face right there and then. (Duke is only two years older, but sometimes it feels like it could be centuries in between them.)

“I need you to be Lark again. Batman has been uncontrolled, lately. Violent.”

“No,” Duke says firmly, crossing his arms. “I’m not—I won’t go back.” Which is a lie. He briefly went back to finalize the emancipation. He avoided Bruce’s eyes, then.

“He needs you!”

“He needs his son!” Duke retorts. “And he has—he has Batgirl and Black Bat and Bluebird. He doesn’t need me.”

Tim only looks at him with steely blue eyes, and something in them causes a pit to drop in Duke’s stomach. Oh god, why didn’t he keep up with Gotham news, did someone else…?

Duke holds onto the memory of texting Cass yesterday. She said she was staying at Steph’s and Harper’s place, which meant all three are safe. (Right? Right.)

“I’m sorry,” he tells Tim earnestly, “but I can’t do it. I’m not that guy anymore.” And then the door shuts, with a soft click. Duke waits by the door until he hears Tim’s footsteps fade.

Jon Kent visits. Duke lets him in, and soon enough, teen heroes stop by Duke’s apartment in droves. Duke was only ever a reserves Teen Titan, to be called upon if there was an emergency; Damian was the one who made friends within the Titans, while Duke’s friends remained squarely in Gotham. Still, Titans stop by to say their condolences or just laugh over the counter with cups of instant hot cocoa.

It helps relieve the ache of loneliness. Duke doesn’t realize how much he needs other people to thrive until he calls for a Teen Titans study session and notices with glowing warm pride that his grades are straight A’s once again.

And… Duke travels back to Gotham. Not to stay, the wounds are still too fresh, but he has a conversation with Bruce, the man that has almost been a father to him for years now, and he thinks it might not be so bad.

Tim is Shadow now. Tim had a choice between Lark and Shadow, and he chose what he knows best. Instead, Steph becomes Lark while Cass fills in Steph’s shoes as Batgirl.

It’s almost a heartwarming picture of a not-quite family.

And Duke wonders if, one day, Damian might be a happy memory to look back to.

Of course, that’s when Damian returns.)

-

“You let him replace me,” Damian snarls, his hands balled into fists.

Duke freezes in place, staring at the man under the red helmet. Damian’s eyes glint with green, a sharp green that terrifies where the brown used to comfort. A shadow covers nearly three quarters of Damian’s face, but the green still pierces.

“Dami,” he says, his voice cracking. “You—you’re—”

Alive, Duke doesn’t get to say before Damian lunges at him with a knife, his eyes gleaming with madness.

-

“You have reached Red Hood. Do not try to contact me again.”

“Hey, yeah, Dami, it’s Duke, Harper and I finally found this number, I just… I just want to let you know you’re welcome back in the family whenever. Bruce isn’t even—he’s not even that angry anymore. All we want is for you to come home. We miss you. Please. I’ll call again if you don’t respond in twenty-four hours.”

“You have reached Red Hood. Do not try to contact me again.”

“Duke again. What the fuck, Damian? I know you’re seeing this. I saw you on the news. Someone managed to record a video of you walking out of that warehouse—we were going to ambush them tomorrow night, but I guess the first one there can call dibs. Anyways, I saw you check your phone. You know I’m here. You didn’t even kill any of them this time. Please come home. Calling again in twenty-four hours if you don’t respond.”

“You have reached Red Hood. Do not try to contact me again.”

“Am I the only one who leaves you voicemails? Does anyone else know you have this number, like, at all? That’s not the point. The point is that we’re still waiting. And you can come back whenever you’re ready. I just… yeah. Yeah. I’ll talk to you again in twenty-four hours.”

“You have reached Red Hood. Do not try to contact me again.”

“You know, Cass scared the shit out of Bruce the other day? She’s opened up a lot since after you… uh. Well. Anyways, you should have seen his face, Dami, it was hilarious. Almost as good as that time we put glitter into the vents of the Batmobile. I’ll talk to you again, yeah? Yeah.

“You have reached Red Hood. Do not try to contact me again.”

“I’m not actually part of the family, did you know that? Became an emancipated minor a few months after you died. I don’t know why I keep trying—if you won’t come back for family, who says you’ll come back for me? ...Does this sound sudden to you? For context, Bruce and I screamed at each other for a half hour straight about… never mind. I’ll talk to you la—oh, what the hell, you know the drill.”

“You have reached Red Hood. Do not try to contact me again.”

“...Dami? I’m in a little bit of a hurry here, but—whoa! Holy shit. I was wondering if you’d want to come to my graduation ceremony in Bludhaven next week? It’s, uh—fuck!—it would mean a lot to me if you were able to make it. I’m salutatorian. So no speeches but I’ll still look cool. Motherbitcher on a stick, I—tell me if you’re gonna come, alri—AHHHHHHHHHHH! You fucker, that hurts, I—why do I feel… dizzy…?”

“Hey! This is Duke, I can’t get to the phone right now, but don’t worry, I’m sure I’m fine. If it’s urgent, though, leave a message after the beep! ...Wait, does it beep?”

“Thomas, you imbecile, of course it beeps. You need to answer me and tell me where you are. I—I will try again.”

“Hey! This is Duke, I can’t get to the phone right now, but don’t worry, I’m sure I’m fine. If it’s urgent, though, leave a message after the beep! ...Wait, does it beep?”

“Answer me, where are you? Did you get yourself in trouble? Stupid, idiotic Thomas, why are you calling me on patrol?”

“Hey! This is Duke, I can’t get to the phone right now, but don’t worry, I’m sure I’m fine. If it’s urgent, though, leave a message after the beep! ...Wait, does it beep?”

“...Duke? I will come to your graduation ceremony. I would—I would love to see you again. Please be alright.”

“Hey! This is Duke, I can’t get to the phone right now, but don’t worry, I’m sure I’m fine. If it’s urgent, though, leave a message after the beep! ...Wait, does it beep?”

“Duke! I’m on my way. Please be alright, please be alright. If you die, I will hunt you down and throw you in a Pit, and the Pits are not to be trifled with. There’s no telling what you’ll come back like. But I… hey, watch where you’re going!”

“Hey! This is Duke, I can’t get to the phone right now, but don’t worry, I’m sure I’m fine. If it’s urgent, though, leave a message after the beep! ...Wait, does it beep?”

“I’ve talked with Father. Isn’t that what you wanted? This is a terrible way to go about it. He has a tracker on you and I’m headed to your coordinates. Please be alright. I’ll… see you when I see you.”

“Hey! This is Duke, I can’t get to the phone right now, but don’t worry, I’m sure I’m fine. If it’s urgent, though, leave a message after the beep! ...Wait, does it beep?”

“Duke Thomas, you are a colossal dumbass. But I wanted to talk to you. Doctor Thompkins is checking you over, I’m trying to avoid Father and my replacement. I… I hope you’ll be alright. You’ve paled and you’ve lost a lot of blood, but Doctor Thompkins believes you’re salvageable. You’ll be okay.

“I didn’t get to finish my message, one of the earlier ones, I just realized. If you don’t make it out of this… I will hunt down an unused Pit for you, no matter the risks. Don’t you dare say you’re not part of this family, because that isn’t true in the slightest. You are my brother. I’ve been neglecting my duties as the elder brother. I—I promise to remedy that when you awake.

“Please be alright.”

-

“I got my phone back,” Duke says to Damian. Damian’s eyes are closed, as if he fell asleep, but his shoulders are tense.

Damian’s eyes flutter open. The green pierces through Duke’s chest, they’re nothing like what he remembers. He knows all too well he can scarcely remember his mother’s real laugh anymore. What if one day he forgets Damian’s brown eyes as well?

“I heard your message. Would you really…?”

Damian crosses his arms. “I meant every word.”

Duke grins, holding out his arms. “Hug?”

Damian accepts, gently embracing Duke. “Moron.”

A tear runs down Duke’s face, but it’s warm and filled with hope for the future. Their future. “That’s what brothers are for.”

-

“Tt,” Damian says, his voice modulated coming from underneath the helmet. “You seem to be doing alright with everyone living in the Manor. I am not needed.”

Duke frowns and revs his motorcycle. Damian lost his in the warehouse explosion, so Duke’s giving him a ride to the Batmobile. They’ll steal it, just like when they were kids. “You can’t hoist the oldest child responsibilities onto me, that’s not how this works. We share it, remember? Also, we all miss you. Lark,”—now Tim, after Damian made the attempt on his life, but Duke’s positive that Tim is inventing his own mantle now—“would be a little testy about it, but he really admired you, y’know. That’s why he took your name and not mine.”

They enter the Narrows, the grimy apartments and alleyways familiar, but they really have gotten better in the past decade or so. Duke still has an apartment in Blüdhaven, but he’s been going back and forth between both cities pretty frequently.

Gotham is his home. He can’t stay away long.

“I still haven’t properly apologized—” Damian cuts himself off. Duke turns towards where the Batmobile is parked, squinting to see what’s captured Damian’s attention.

A small boy, who couldn’t be more than thirteen, drops a huge Batmobile tire and runs.

Damian chases after him, with Duke close behind. “You gotta admit,” he says to Damian with a grin, “the kid’s got guts. Jacking tires from the Batmobile?”

They slow down as they find the kid, and share a look. The kid may have guts, but to even try must mean he’s desperate.

“Hey!” Duke calls, his bright as hell Signal outfit probably more inviting than Damian’s whole shtick, especially with the sword sheathed at Damian’s side. He turns on a little penlight attached to his keyring. “Hey, we don’t want to hurt you. How about we go out to eat?”

-

“Hey, Dickhead!” Jason yells up at the ceiling. Duke cranes his neck to see, and… yeah, Dick’s on the chandelier again. It shakes, the light scattering and dancing across the room.

Damian is sitting at the table, sipping at his jasmine tea. “Jason,” he sharply reprimands.

Jason’s tiny nose scrunches up. “Sorry, Mom.”

Without missing a beat, Damian asks in a tone quiet enough for only Duke to hear, “Do you ever miss when it was only us two?”

“Always,” Duke responds. “But I wouldn’t give up any of… this family for the world.”

And maybe they’re a little broken, but they’re trying to rebuild. Duke isn’t Damian’s light anymore, nor is Damian a shadow, or another light, or anything his younger self's mind could have dreamed of. They’re people. Living, breathing people who try their best, and it’s more of a partnered relationship than anything.

They help each other. They stick by each other’s sides and they learn, and they grow, and they find that they’re more alike than they think.

Maybe they’re not alright. But that’s alright. They’re trying.

“Besides,” Duke says after a brief pause, “it wasn’t nearly as funny when it was only me driving you up a wall.”

Damian snorts at that and elbows him.

And everything seems right in the world.

Also read and comment on AO3!

[stardust-walker]

High Hopes

word count: 2840

Previous chapters: 1 2

Chapter 3

No matter how long they were out there, it didn’t make falling asleep easier. There were some nights when she couldn’t sleep at all. Dove pushed open the flap of her tent after an hour or two of fighting to go to sleep. The young woman turned on her flashlight as she brushed some of her dark brown hair away from her eyes. The fire was still burning, so someone else had to be awake.

“Hey,” Dove announced her presence quietly as she stepped into the light of the fire. Her dark eyes finally landed on Jim. “Can’t sleep?”

“Who can these days,” the older man mumbled quietly. Dove nodded in the affirmative as she knelt next to the log Jim was sat on.

“Is it bad if I ask what you’re thinking about,” she questioned and shifted her gaze up. Jim had puzzled her and there was something about him that made her uneasy. It wasn’t that she thought he was dangerous, but it was more like a case where she was more worried about what he might end up doing to himself. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” she joked as she lowered herself down to sit on the dirt.

Jim cracked a small smile and shook his head.

“Alright that sounded a little…crude,” Dove let out a quiet laugh and tapped Jim with her elbow, “gotcha for a second though.” She stared off into the darkness for a moment. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I think about my ex. Whether he’s alive or…you know,” she shrugged her shoulders and reached back to scratch the back of her neck.

Jim nodded his head slowly and Dove sighed, “He called me right when everything started to get really bad. We used to live up near D.C. He wanted me to come up there, be with him. He thought it would be safer up there or something. Maybe he wanted to keep an eye on me, I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you go?” Jim interjected quietly.

“Couldn’t very well leave my sister with Ed with everything else falling apart, now could I? Plus, I wanted to be able to help keep an eye on Sophia,” Dove traced a finger absentmindedly over the tattoo on her left forearm. “So, I guess when I can’t sleep, it’s a whole lot of ‘what if’s about different choices I coulda made…”

The fire crackled in the uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Jim spoke. “Every time I try to sleep, I see my family.” Jacqui had told them in the early days how Jim was the only one left out of his whole family. Dove and the others never asked after that.

The dark-haired woman placed a comforting hand on Jim’s arm, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Dove frowned a little as she leaned forward and reached into the back pocket of her jeans. She pulled out a small bag and squinted at it in the firelight before letting out a quiet ‘Ah-ha’. “Here,” she held out a hand, closed around something that Jim couldn’t see.

“What’s that,” Jim eyed her warily as he held his hand out.

“Melatonin. It might help you sleep. It was the next big thing at the place I worked at. Non-addictive and everything, your body creates it naturally, blah blah blah.” She dropped the two of the pills into his hand. “Take two of those and call me in the morning,” she joked.

Jim stared at the pills in his hand for a second before he glanced back up at her. “Thanks.” He nodded his head as Dove watched him stand up slowly.

“No problem. If you ever wanna talk, I mean. I’m used to it,” she offered with a sad smile.

“We should probably find you a couch first, huh,” Jim drawled. Dove stared blankly for a moment before she let out a snort of laughter.

“Yeah, real cute. Now you head off to bed now. I’m serious! Get some shut eye.” She pointed a finger at him as he turned slightly. Jim stopped for a moment and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Thank you.”

Dove sat there in silence for a while after Jim wandered off to bed. She didn’t even notice her eyes drifted shut until she felt something touch her back. She jolted awake and turned around quickly only to come face to face with a startled looking Glenn. “Jesus Christ!” Dove hissed as she stood up and gave Glenn a shove. “You tryin’ to give me a heart attack?”

“Jeez, sorry! I was just coming to relieve Shane from guard duty and didn’t want you to fall in.” Even in the dark, Dove could see the color rising up Glenn’s neck.

“Sorry. Can you blame me for being jumpy though?”

“Can’t blame you at all, bird,” Shane said as he climbed down the ladder of the camper. Dove rolled her eyes at him and Glenn patted her once on the shoulder before he walked off to take the other man’s place.

Shane strolled over, hands in his pockets. Dove watched as he ran a hand through his hair. “That was a nice thing you did for Jim, ya know.”

“So much for doctor patient confidentiality, but I guess that didn’t mean much to cops in the first place,” Dove said with a playful tone. “But it felt…I don’t know. Good? It felt…”

“Normal,” Shane questioned and Dove only nodded her head. Shane tried to stifle a yawn, but Dove couldn’t hold hers back. “I think that’s a sign we both need to catch some shut eye too. Maybe take some of your own advice, huh?” Shane raised an eyebrow at her.

Dove simply raised her right hand to her forehead and brought her hand back down to her side after a moment, “10-4, captain.” She turned her flashlight on, turned on her heel, and shuffled quietly back off to her tent.

Behind her, Glenn shook his head from the top of the camper and Shane couldn’t help but think about what he’d heard her say about leaving Carol alone with Ed.

~

“Shouldn’t they be back by now?” Amy shielded her eyes from the sun as she shouted up at the top of the camper.

Dove looked sideways at Dale from her perch. “She’s right ya know. Maybe the rain got them all fucked up?” She offered as an option.

Dale frowned at the younger woman. “I’m sure they’re just fine. Glenn’s very responsible. He’s gotten them in and out of the city enough times in the past month.” He glanced over the side at Amy. “I’m sure they’re just fine!”

Dove rolled her eyes and slapped her knees. “You got this on your own, old man?”

“Yeah I got it,” Dale nodded his head as he raised the binoculars to his eyes.

Dove actually smiled a little as she climbed down the ladder, hearing Carl laugh at whatever was said to him was welcoming. She froze in the middle of the ladder as a car alarm sounded.

“Talk to me, Dale!” Shane shouted.

“Is it them, are they back?” Amy jumped up from her seat as Dove hopped down off the ladder. Hazel eyes scanned the group for Carol and Sophia; she reached out a hand to beckon the small girl forward as the noise kept sounding.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Dale sounded annoyed, yet amused as he spoke. “A stolen car is my guess.”

“Wow, that’s mighty responsible, huh.” Dove rolled her eyes as she stroked Sophia’s hair.

“What’s going on,” Carol whispered as she came up alongside her.

“Some doofus stole a car and the alarm is soundin’ to high heaven,” Dove raised her voice slightly as the noise got louder.

A bright red sports car came around the corner as Dove finished. She let out a quiet whistle. Whoever stole it had good taste at least.

She wished she could say she was surprised as the door swung open and Glenn stepped out, shit-eating grin on his face.

“Holy crap turn that thing off,” Dale managed to yell over the alarm. Sophia blocked her ears and wrinkled her nose as Carol placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t know how!” Dove shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose as Glenn just threw his hands up in the air. She didn’t feel bad for him for having Amy and Shane hounding him. Why the hell would he bring that thing up here anyway?

“Everyone’s fine,” the whole group was finally able to hear. Dove couldn’t help but say a silent thanks for Jim. “Except Merle.”

“Are you trying to draw every walker for miles,” Shane attempted to scold Glenn.

“I wouldn’t worry about the alarm so much, Shane. It echoed all through the hills. No don’t get mad at me! I’m not arguin’ with you,” Dale lectured Shane and turned his disappointment on Glenn. He had, at least, earned himself a lecture about being more responsible.

“Sorry…Cool car, though?” Glenn added and Dove gave him an appreciative nod and a thumbs up.

“Yeah but you didn’t have to be so irresponsible,” she shot a pointed look at Dale before she glanced back at Glenn.

The whole group seemed to freeze as another truck rolled up. Dove watched as everyone ran to hug their families and she couldn’t help but feel a little sad for a few people. She felt sad as she watched Lori kneel to comfort Carl. The other woman had confided in her how Carl seemed to hope that every time they went out, his dad would come back with them. Another twinge of sadness hit her as she looked down at her feet, almost ashamed of feeling bad for Daryl Dixon. He would never get to say goodbye to his family.

“The guy’s a cop, like you,” Dove caught as the other discussed a new guy.

She grabbed Carol’s arm as she watched Carl scream for his father and run off towards him. “Holy shit,” Dove whispered.

“Is that Carl’s daddy,” Sophia looked up at both women.

“It is,” and Carol really smiled for what felt like the first time in weeks,

Dove didn’t miss the annoyed glances from Ed in everyone else’s directions. They had probably interrupted a conversation that he was trying to rope Jim into about Nascar or something. Poor Jim was just too nice for his own good.

The rest of the day seemed to go by in a haze as Carol offered to wash Rick’s clothes for him. Dove walked up to Lori’s tent, or Rick’s tent now. “You decent?” She called as she planted her feet, leaned against a tree. The sheriff ducked out, old dirty clothes in a bag in his hands. “I’m Dove. Carol’s sister. She sent me to get your clothes so she can wash ‘em for you.” She smiled kindly at the man. She couldn’t imagine what he’d been through.

“You sure? She doesn’t have,’ Rick started to protest, but Dove cut him off as she grabbed the bag in one hand.

“She knows that. She just wants to is all,” Dove reassured him. “Now, you go spend time with your family. Carl’s been talkin’ bout you non-stop to Sophia since we got here so I think he has a lot of time he wants to make up.” She placed a hand on his arm and patted it a few times before she turned and walked off to find her sister.

~

Neither one of them said anything about the grenade Carol had found in Rick’s clothes. Carol had slapped her arm a little harder than she’d meant to in order to get her attention. A few moments of hushed whispers later and Carol had shoved the grenade back into her own bag, stuffed safely in between clean clothes ‘just in case’.

It wasn’t mentioned as they sat around the fire that night. Dove was perched in between Glenn and T-Dog, completely enthralled by Rick’s story. She didn’t blame Lori for thinking that Rick had died. She thought the same thing about the other people she hadn’t seen since this whole thing started. Her right pointer finger traced the tattoo on her left arm again as her hazel eyes locked on Shane.

There was a hint of something on his face as Rick expressed his gratitude towards him. It wasn’t modesty, or even his own gratitude, it seemed more like shame. But that couldn’t be right.

“There goes words falling short again. Paltry things,” Dale nodded his head.

“Words can mean almost nothing, sometimes actions mean a whole hell of a lot more,” Dove mumbled quietly.

She jumped slightly as she watched Ed throw another log into the fire. “Now Ed, you might wanna rethink that log,” Shane said, and Dove could swear that sometimes, he was just looking for a fight.

“It’s cold, man.” Ed grumbled and Dove clenched her jaw. T-Dog placed a hand on her arm, an attempt to comfort her. There goes those actions meaning more than words.

“Cold doesn’t change the rules. Keep our fires low, just embers,” Shane lectured.

Dove glanced around the fire as she rubbed her hands together anxiously, finally looking down as Rick locked eyes with her for a moment. It was probably more than enough for him to pick up on what was causing the sudden shift in mood if he was smart enough.

“I said it’s cold. You should mind your own business for once,” Ed sounded so smug. She would be lying if she said she didn’t think about running up and shoving him face first into the burning fire. T-Dog reached out for Shane’s arm, missing him by an inch. Glenn leaned closer, placing a comforting arm around the dark-haired woman’s shoulder as she rested her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands.

“Please someone just make him stop, he’s just going to make it worse,” she pleaded quietly.

Carol was good at pretending, thankfully, as she was able to convince Shane that everything was ‘fine’ or at least she thought she was. Dove caught Shane saying something about “If you’re both cold, you can come sit with us,” which she couldn’t blame Carol for refusing. It would just make it worse.

Dove’s head raised from her hands as Shane sat back down and Daryl Dixon was brought up. She had waited patiently to say her peace for hours. “He won’t be too happy to hear his brother was left behind,” Dale said sagely, and Dove nodded in agreement.

Her brow furrowed as Rick and T-Dog both mentioned telling Daryl and seemed to want to discuss whose fault it was.

“It won’t matter to him who’s fault it was,” Dove interjected, “All that will matter is that you did it and that makes both of you the enemy. Hell, that might make everyone at this camp the enemy. That’s what we have to be ready for.”

“Plus, I don’t mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy,” Glenn frowned.

“I mean I didn’t want to be the one to say it,” Dove rubbed her hands on her knees as she raised her eyebrows slightly.

“I did what I did. Hell, if I’m gonna hide it from him,” T-Dog stated bluntly.

“Now, listen, as much as I’m a sucker for accountability, I doubt Daryl is gonna appreciate it as much as anyone here might,” she waved her hand around the circle. “Help me out here, sheriff,” she ran a hand through her hair as she looked over at Rick. She felt a little guilty about putting him on the spot as she watched Lori stroke Carl’s hair.

“We should tell the truth. Merle was out of control,” Andrea said, much to the group’s surprise. “He could have gotten us all killed. Someone had to do something. It’s nobody’s fault but Merle’s that he got left behind. Your husband did what was right,” the blonde woman finished.

The group shared looks. “That’s what we tell Daryl? You think that’s going to end in a rational discussion,” Dale questioned. Dove couldn’t help but agree with Dale. It was going to end badly, whether it be for Daryl or someone else.

“I stopped long enough to chain that door,” T-Dog revealed. He continued about how he chained the door.

“So…”

“Merle’s alive. Chained to that rooftop. That’s on all of us,” T-Dog stood up and walked away from the fire.

A heavy sigh escaped Dove’s lips as she ran a hand down her face. “I think we should all think on this. Come back to the conversation in the morning. It’s been a long day,” she suggested.

Dove lay awake staring at the ceiling of her tent that night. A million different scenarios running through her head about how tomorrow would go, but none of them were good. She fell asleep with Daryl Dixon on her mind.

_

@crossbowking​

[thiswasinevitableid]

82, Sternclay, NSFW if possible? Ty so much for all your great fics <3 -☀️

You’re welcome! I hope you enjoy the fill. It’s NSFW, and involves mating cycles, because my A03 stats suggest a lot of y’all like that.

82. you knock on my door at 2 in the morning because your very white cat got out and you need help trying to find them in the three feet of snow we have

He has no one but himself to blame. 

Stern is always so careful about shutting the doors in this cabin, as the old hinges and worn frames can send them swinging open when coupled with a strong wind. He thought he had that same care when he came in with more firewood from the basement, which can only be accessed through by going out of the house and then down to the locked door. 

Apparently not. At one, he went to check on Yeti and found the back door open and the faintest shape of feline paws leading into the darkness. 

They’ve got two feet of snow on the ground, with another foot forecasted to fall by morning. And Yeti is sleek and snow-white.

He’s wandered the perimeter of the house, left her favorite blanket out on the covered porch, and tried in vain to follow the tracks, filled in by the falling snow. He’s been outside for an hour now, with no sign of her. Not even the jingle of her collar in the cold air. He’s shivering, but he can’t stop the search; Yeti is out here, cold and scared and it’s all his fault. 

As he’s crunching through the snow, warm light spills onto the trees. His neighbors  (a loose term out here) house. He couldn’t stand waking Barclay up to help him, but if he’s already awake…

Stern raps on the door, and four seconds later it opens, his neighbor looking like a lumberjack centerfold given life, even in his sweatpants and brown sweater. 

“Joe? Is something wrong?”

“It’s Yeti, she got out without me noticing and I can’t find her, I’ve been out here an hour and there’s no sign. I, um, I know it’s a stretch but can you help me look for her? We can cover more ground that way.”

Barclay gives a small, worried smile as he nods, “Yeah, of course, lemme get enough on so that I don’t freeze and I’ll join you.” 

He waves Stern inside, passes him a box of tissues before disappearing upstairs. Here he’d hoped the tears from his brief panic and self-blame spiral hadn’t left evidence. He’s good in a crisis, has handled much more stressful incidents with grace and calm. But for some reason every time he musters up those emotions, gult rips them to shreds. Yeti is his to look after, he’s supposed to keep her safe, and one careless move has her out in the woods, in freezing weather, with predators, or thin ice, or, or, or-

His brain is excellent at generating contingency plans on the fly, but tonight it directs that ability to making him think about all the bad things his error could cause. 

“Okay, got my headlamp so I can keep my hands free. You got a light?”

Joe holds up his flashlight.

“C’mon, let’s go find the Yeti.” They set off side by side in the snow, “where do you want to look?”

“Fan out near the creek, I think. The snow isn’t as deep there, so she might have gone that way because it was easier to move.”

“She’s a climber, right? So how about this; we go on either side of the creek, you look on the ground and I’ll look in the trees?”

“That makes sense.” 

It’s slow going, both of them being meticulous, shining their lights on every branch or under every bush. Stern’s always appreciated how careful Barclay is; he assumes it comes with a profession where being messy slows you down, but the first time he saw his well-organized kitchen his heart did a little dance of delight. 

In the month and a half he’s lived here, the cook invites him over at least twice a week to try out a recipe. He works at Amnesty Lodge in the nearby town of Kepler, and spends some of his nights there. Still, he’s at his cabin often enough that Stern’s been able to invite him over some evenings. Though it’s odd he’s up so late on a work night.

“Do you not have to go in tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m taking this week off. I have some vacation time and when I get back it’ll be the holiday break rush until New Years. I got caught up in the latest Agent X novel and didn’t see how late it was until you knocked. How about you, staying up researching again?”

“Yes. I was trying to keep the fire going because it’s nice to work in that little living room but, um, going out to get the wood is how she got out. If I’d just gone to bed-”

“Whoah, hey, none of that.” Barclay stops, turning to face him, “shit happens, even when you’re careful. This isn’t your fault, Joe.”

“I know. It still feels that way.” He starts forward again, feet freezing in spite of his snowboots (chosen for optimal weight to insulation ratio). Part of him wants to keep talking, because Barclay is interesting to talk to, his years playing “Lodge dad” giving him endless anecdotes and the ability to be honest without being cruel. 

It helps that his baritone voice makes Stern think of brown sugar; rich, complex, just the right kind of sweet. 

After a solid hour of searching, Stern is so cold he’s having trouble getting words out. Barclay sets a big hand on his shoulder, guiding them towards Sterns cabin.

“Joe, you’ve gotta take a break. Worried your lips are gonna go as blue as your eyes, and then tonight will really suck.”

“But I haven’t found her.”

“And you won’t if you freeze to death or get so chilled you can’t think straight. At least sleep for a few hours.”

Stern’s about to protest as they reach the door, but then his knees buckle and he slumps against a broad chest.

“I’ll do one more spin into the deeper woods on my way home, and leave some blankets out on the porch in case she makes her way to me. She’s smart, just like her owner; I think she’ll get home okay.”

“Right. Okay. We’ll be okay.” 

Barclay hesitates mid motion, then pulls Stern into a hug. Stern is not small, and at Six feet zero inches he’s used to being the tallest person in a room. Barclay always feels like he’s dwarfing him, though right now that’s the most comforting sensation in the world. 

“I’ll check by in the morning.”

“Thank you, for everything.” He mumbles into Barclay’s scarf.

“Any time, Joe.”

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

Barclay waits until Joe is inside and the upstairs light switches on to leave the back porch. God, it’s so fucking cold tonight. He doesn’t blame Yeti for getting curious, but she could’ve picked a less awful time to do it.

He’s glad the other man came to him for help; he hates the idea of Joe out here alone and stressed, searching carefully and kicking himself the whole time. He’s glad Joe took the suggestion to sleep. 

He’s glad the other man came to be his neighbor. 

Ironically, they’d met when Joe came over and asked to borrow a cup of sugar. The dark-haired man was short on what he needed to cook, and Barclay was happy to supply it. It’s not everyday a cute guy asked him for some sugar. 

They ran across each other in town, and Joe even came to eat at the Lodge, usually at off hours where Barclay had a chance to talk. That’s how he learned Joe was here to research a recent Bigfoot sighting. 

“I used to be in the FBI, investigating the same thing. Then I got so frustrated, no one really believed in the possibility of unknown creatures, and the few who did saw them as having some sort of use to the department of defense. Great idea, find something so rare it’s existence is unproven, and then lock it away or blow it up.” The sip of coffee is more aggressive than usual. 

“Won’t they get mad if you spill their secrets?” It was only half a joke. 

“I doubt it. They weren’t too interested in my theories when I worked there; odds are they’ll keep an eye on me a little while and then ignore me. Unless I find Bigfoot, of course, in which case they may want me back. I’m not interested, from now on I monster hunt in the name of science.”

Barclay hopes Stern never finds Bigfoot and stays in his cabin, writing and researching and consulting and coming over to Barclay’s for dinner twice a week. He has a whole menu in his mind titled, “foods for seducing Joe” that he’s going to whip out in the next few weeks, he swears it. 

He’s been swearing it for two weeks. 

Joe is sophisticated, smart, has really good taste in books and food, and Barclay feels so listened to when they talk. Barclay starts blushing whenever Joe smiles at him, which would be embarrassing except Joe does the same thing whenever Barclay drops his voice a little. Besides, he likes it when Joe smiles. 

Barclay would give anything to make Joe smile tonight. Which is why he’s tromping into the spot where they lost the last of Yeti’s footprints. He stands, listening for any sign of human life. 

Then he slips the woven bracelet off his hand, and his foot-prints almost double in size. 

It’s a bad idea, he’s not all that far from other houses or the road, but in this form his sense of smell is twice as strong and his night-vision a bit sharper. It’s also the reason he’s taking this week off work. Yes, he likes to rest up before the winter rush; but his heat, which comes ever fourteen years, is due in the next few days. He’s actually a little worried turning into his Sylph self will make his brain fuzzy enough to forget his mission. So he reminds himself, as he tromps through the growing blizzard, that he is doing this for the person he’d most like to impress in this world, and that does the trick. 

A whiff of the same, non-human scent he stole a noseful of when hugging Joe catches his attention. He follows it to a disused burrow, gets down on his belly, and finds reflective eyes blinking back at him. 

The animal hisses. 

“Man, please be Yeti and not a bobcat. Duck’s gonna fucking kill me if I harass the wildlife.” He reaches into the burrow and hears a telltale jingle. Yeti, surrendering to her fate, goes limp in his hold. When he puts her against his chest she chirps, curiously sniffing him. As soon as the bracelet is on she blinks once, then purrs as he bundles her into his coat. She’s cold and damp, but she’s in one piece. 

“C’mon cousin, let’s get you home.”

The lights are all still one, and the front door is wedged open the exact amount a cat would need to get inside. He steps in, kicks the wedge free and shuts the door. The fire is low, and there’s no sound of anyone moving around. 

“Joe? Whoa, careful Yeti, I know you wanna get warm but we should show him your okay.”

“Mew!” Yeti bites the fringe of his scarf. 

He tries again, “Joe, you still up? Got someone for you?”

A scuff and groan from the kitchen, “Huh? Oh, shit, I fell asleep, one second”

Yeti shifts her focus while Barclay is distracted. In one graceful leap she rips his bracelet away, lands, and bounds to the kitchen.

“Yeti! Thank the lord, there you are my little cryptid, I was so worried about you, don’t ever do that again, thank god you’re okay.” Joe’s voice goes muffled, as if he’s holding the cat to his face and talking into her fur. Barclay is frozen, not wanting to be seen but even less wanting to have Joe spot Bigfoot dashing into the trees. 

“What do you have--Yeti, it’s rude to take things from the man who saved you from being-” Joe rounds the corner, cat in his arms, and gasps. Yeti, uninterested in the unfolding drama, tumps to the floor and scampers upstairs. Joe’s hands fly over his mouth the instant she’s no longer in them. 

“Hey” Barclay waves.

“What the fuck?”

“I’m, uh, I’m Bigfoot.”

“What the fuck?” Joe isn’t moving, and Barclay decides now is his best chance. 

“I’m just, uh, gonna go get my bracelet back.”

“No, you’re going to explain everything.” 

“I really, really can’t, some of it isn’t mine to explain. I mean, uh, I can explain some bits later-” He creeps toward the stairs. Joe steps in front of him. 

“Barclay, this can’t wait. You, you’ve been him the whole time, my entire world view is simultaneously being proven and flipped over, would you please just talk to me?”

“Mew?” Yeti is halfway down the stairs, watching them with the bracelet still in her mouth. Without breaking eye contact, Joe reaches up and out, plucking it from her teeth.

“You’re not getting this back until you explain.”

“Babe, please, I promise we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“No, wait, what did you call me?”

“Uhhhh” Barclay lunges for the bracelet instead of answering. Stern twists out of the way, sprinting for the kitchen. Barclay gets an arm around his waist and yanks backwards, sending them both over the back of the couch. Joe elbows him and scrambles up. Barclay only just manages to block him from going up the stairs, stalks him back onto the rug and tackles him. It succeeds in bringing the man down and keeping him pinned. 

It also sends the bracelet flying onto the floor, where Yeti snatches it up and disappears up the staircase. 

Barclay realizes he’s growling, stops so that he won’t frighten Joe, only for it to start up again as a reflex.

“Barclay, I swear, if you hurt my cat-”

“I won’t, I, that’s what not that noise is for. Or, uh, I mean I’m pissed you played keep-away with something I need, but I also have some bad news about Sy--uh, Bigfoot biology. Uh, so, first thing: I have a heat, which is why I was trying to stay away from people. Second thing: my kind uses a very intense game of, uh, chase as part of courtship.”

Stern shifts his thigh, “That explains what I’m feeling.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Look, can you go get the bracelet and then we can, like, have some tea and talk about this? I’m sorry, I feel so bad for making you deal with this.” The growl rumbles up again. He gears up another apology when he notices Joe’s blue eyes getting wider.

“Is this, um, only because of your heat? I mean, if you tackled some passerby, would the same thing be happening?”

“No.” Barclay squeaks. 

“Then I’m not seeing how this is a bad thing, big guy.” He grinds his thigh up, making Barclay yip and pin him to the rug while touching as little of him as possible. 

“Joe, this doesn’t make me like, mindless or anything, but if you say you want this you are signing up for several days of as much fucking as I can manage.”

“I don’t have any deadlines.” Joe’s eyes remain fixed on Barclays crotch. 

“I’m serious, if you say stop I will, but if you don’t you won’t be able to get out of bed for days. And, uh, I can put my disguise back on, you don’t have to fuck me like this, I know it’s weird.”

“Barclay, I built my life’s work on weird.” Joe pets his arm.

“Yeah but not on fucking it.”

“How do you know? Lots of my time with the UP is classified.”

“Joe…” it’s a warning, the heat in  his brain suggesting a dozen things to do so the human can’t be touched by another cryptid ever again.

“I want you, Barclay. In both forms. As long as you promise we’ll talk after, I’m okay with doing this first.”

“I promise”

“Good, because otherwise I was going out to see if there’s another bigfoot in the area who was interested.” Joe smiles, moves to pull off his shirt. He doesn’t get to; Barclay snarls possessively and drops onto him, biting his neck and ripping his clothing into a flurry of fabric scraps. The human moans, gasps when Barclay makes short work of his own pants and reveals what’s waiting beneath. Barclay doesn’t give him time to process, shoves his legs as far apart as they’ll go, and finally sinks into him.

“JesusfuckingCHRIST, ohfuck, ohmyfuckinggodAH!”

His cock is more thick than long, splitting the human open while bottoming out on every thrust. Joe’s fingers knot into the rug, his words morph into sharp, ecstatic sounds. Every creature in the forest can probably hear him. 

Barclay clamps his hand down over the humans mouth, “shut up babe, don’t want anyone else in the woods getting any ideas about how good a fuck you are. You’re fucking mine.”

A muffled moan and, when he pulls his hand back, “Y-you really think I, fuck, I can keep quiet when you fuck me like this?”

“Thought they taught FBI agents discipline” he drags his claws across Joe’s chest, relishing the shaky, happy noise that gets him. 

“There’s discipline and, AAHnnn, there’s inhuman restraint.”

Barclay slams the hand down again and growls, pleased, when Joe’s posture turns submissive.

“Here’s the deal; you keep quiet and take it like a good mate, and after I cum in you, can be as loud as you fucking want, because anyone who gets near you’ll know belong to me. I mean” he jerks his hips, “they’ll be able to tell that from the fact I’m balls-deep in you too, babe.”

Joe nods, replaces Barclays hand with his own as the Sylph hooks his knees over his shoulders. The next minute goes in a heat haze, his brain and body united in the desire to cum in Joe, to claim him,  while the human stifles his screams and grows slicker with each thrust. 

He tips his head back with a howlgrowlpurr as he cums, leaving faint clawmarks in Joe’s legs as he holds them open to make sure he takes every bit.

“Lord almighty” Joe’s hand falls to the floor, “that, that was amazing, why on earth were you acting like this isn’t something I’d waaAAAAAntohgod.” He whimpers as Barclay starts up again, fucking his cum up into him.

“Shoulda known you’d like it; you’re perfect, Joe.”

A blush and a shy moan, and he leans down to kiss him gently.

“You are. You’re the perfect man, the perfect mate, and we are gonna have so much fucking fun together.”

“And fun fucking?” He looks pleased with the wordplay.

He snorts, “Glad to know that sense of humor sticks around when I’m filling you up, oh, ohfuckyeah” another orgasm hits, milder this time. 

“Are they near constant when you’re in heat?” Joe eyes the trail of cum sliding back down Barclay’s cock.

“No, just easy to have. So” he flips the human over, squeezing his ass appreciatively, “let’s try it from  behind this time; wanna find out how it feels to cum in you while I get you off.” He slips his hand over Joe’s thigh and between his legs, “and you better fucking do it too, of I’ll drag you outside and fuck you against a tree so anyone passing by can see how fucking eager you are for me.”

“Please, we’ve spent so much time outside tonight.”

He thinks as kisses along Joe’s shoulders, “You’re right. I’ll fuck you against the door instead.”

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

When Stern wakes up, snow is falling in the grey light and his clock reads 2:30 P.M. Downstairs there’s a homey clink of pots and pans, and the smell of coffee winds it’s way to him. 

He fell asleep around five, he thinks, when the cumulative exhaustion of his day overpowered the thrill of being with Barclay. Honestly, he’d have kept going, but Barclay was adamant he rest. So they finished with him fucking Stern’s slack, sleepy mouth, before the cryptid bundled him into bed and snuggled up to him with those deep, rumbling purrs that Stern now loves.

The bracelet is gone from the nightstand (Yeti didn’t eat it, thank god), so the chef must be making breakfast in his human form. Now would be a good time to go down and talk. 

“Mew” A weight lands on his chest as Yeti kneads the blankets, purring when he reaches you and rubs her head.

“You know, little monster, this almost makes the heart attack you gave me worth it.”

“Mew?” The cat stares hopefully out the windows. 

“Not a chance. I can’t take that stress again. Besides” he scoops her up, “we need to unbox that new toy I ordered. Barclay and I need some time to ourselves today.”

[remmushound]

Lita's legacy, part 5!! @brightlotusmoon @scentedcandlecryptid

Mondo was heated with rage he had no idea how to express. Never before in his time as a human or a mutant had he felt any emotions near as intensely than he felt anger now. His skin felt hot, his stomach felt sick, and he felt like crying. But Lita was there still holding his hand and she was watching him intently, so he had to put on a smile while he got her to someplace safe and protected; as usual, it was on a rooftop.

“Lita, I need you to stay here while I go find a payphone or something.”

Lita frowned. “Why didn't you just use that other mutant's phone?”

Mondo blanked. Sure, he could say that he had been so mad that the thought hadn’t occurred to him, and he could admit his mistake and go back to ask to use an actual phone. Or he could find a payphone and pray to whatever higher beings there were for it to still work. He looked to the streets.

“He uh. Didn't have one. Stay here!”

Mondo gave Lita one last, comforting pat before jumping from the roof and landing with a painful crash in the dumpster below. “Ow.”

“Why didn't you use the ladder?” Lita called down, pointing to the fire escape.

“I have a technique!” Mondo grunted as he forced himself out of the dumpster and to his feet, risking a quick glance around both corners of the alley before falling to all fours and running across the street as fast as his starved body could carry him. He scrambled into the phone box, pulled a loose quarter from his pocket—he kept a bunch of change, just in case he could ever find anything worth buying— and pressed it into the slot. He hoped that was how it worked, like it did in the old movies he watched. He took Repo Mantis’ card from his pocket and, in quick glances between the card and the buttons, he dialed the number and held the phone up to his ear. He heard strange, beeping noises, and hoped that was a good thing.

“You are conversing with Donatello!” Came a confident, bold voice joined with the strange sound of clicking keys, “Are you friend, client, or evil brat come to ruin my day?”

“Suh dude! Uh.” Mondo Gecko cleared his throat and tried to sound professional. “Repo Mantis gave me this number.”

“I know a Repo Mantis.” Was the reply, and then a long pause.

“He… said you could help me?”

“Well, first, you can help me.” Donatello said, “What you need, kid? I got gadgets and gizmos aplenty and a brain that won’t let me sleep. Seriously. It’s been two days.”

Mondo stuttered. “Uh. That’s rough buddy. I… me and my friend tried to get a place in Repo Mantis’ junkyard.”

“Oo. Bad choice.” Donatello laughed, “Lot of crooks living in there, you know. That place is for the desperate and the destitute.”

“Um. I— guess I’m both.”

“Oh. Unfortunate.” He smacked his lips, “What can I do you for, mister desperate and destitute?”

“Repo wouldn’t let me and my friend stay in his junkyard because my friend, like, has this medical condition.”

“That doesn’t sound like Repo. He don’t discriminate by anything more than how much money you have in your pocket. What kind of condition does your friend have?”

“I’m uh… not like, entirely sure what it is, if I’m being completely honest.”

“Physical or mental?”

“Physical…”

“Any medicines she should be taking?”

“I— I don’t know…” Mondo hated not knowing the answers to the questions he was being asked, but what could he do? He had to answer honestly! He put in another quarter to give himself longer to talk.

“Mm. Current place of residence?”

“We… don’t really have one anymore.” Mondo admitted. “I told you— we were supposed to be going to Repo’s place.”

“Right, right. Name?”

“I am Mondo Tubular Gecko.” Mondo gave the sound of a strumming guitar out of habit before remembering what he was talking about. “And uh. My friend’s name is Lita.”

“No last name?”

“No.”

“Alright, Mondo Gecko.” Donatello cleared his throat, “Where are you currently?”

“Uh, lemme check!”

Mondo left the phone and ran out into the streets to check the nearby signs, then ran back and reported them to Donatello.

“Fan-freaking-tasking. You stay there with your friend, and I’ll be there in just a mo’ with a medic to give her a once-over and give the all-clear to our mantis friend. Don’t move.”

Mondo froze.

There was a pause before. “You can move away from the payphone, just don’t leave the area!”

“Oh, right on, right on. Wait. How’d you know I was on a payphone…?”

“I know and see everything. Tah tah!”

Mondo returned to the rooftop to wait with Lita. Only a few short minutes later, both of them were surrounded by three average-sized mutants and one giant, their muscles chiseled and defined by years of hard labor and faces that said they were in their early twenties, if that. Mondo Gecko tucked his tail between his legs and hugged it for support. He hadn’t been expecting so many to show up, but he couldn’t back out now.

“You the one who called?” Asked an unfamiliar voice from the brightest mutant in a blue bandana.

Mondo Gecko nodded slowly.

“Where uh. Where’s your friend?” The largest one gave what Mondo Gecko supposed was meant to be a comforting grin, but it came off as predatory and malicious.

“She’s right here. It’s okay Lita…” Mondo Gecko grabbed Lita by the arm and gently guided her out into the open.

“Aww.” The orange-spotted mutant cooed, “You’re so cute!”

Lita whined and pressed her carapace into the crook of Mondo Gecko’s arm for security. A purple-clad mutant split from the group and approached Lita, pulling goggles down over his eyes and scanning her with a red and blue light for a moment before he pulled the goggles up and his mouth fell open.

“Woah…” Just from the tone, Mondo immediately knew it was the one from the phone. He stood up, walking over to the blue-clad turtle and whispering something to him. Mondo strained to listen. “...major ectopia cordis, possible thoracic insufficiency. Pericardium is still intact. Also suffering from oculocutaneous albinism OCA1 and what appears to be second-degree burn scarring on her face and hands. Accompanied with her ectopia, it may allude to significant lung tissue damage.”

Lita looked down at the pink burns on her hands, and then back up as the purple and blue adorned turtles made their way over to her and Mondo with attempts at gentle, comforting smiles.

“Hey Lita…” The blue-dressed turtle kneeled and offered a hand to the albino turtle. “I’m Leonardo. Do you mind is I take a look at you…?”

Lita looked at Leonardo’s three fingered hands, then held out her own matching hands and looked down at them with a curious glint in her eyes. The new turtle was still smiling, his hand still outstretched. Lita accepted it and let herself be guided away from Mondo.

“I’m just gonna take a look at your heart and lungs, okay?” Leonardo asked, and when Lita nodded her consent, he took out a flashlight and shined it in the center of Lita’s chest, watching the beat of her heart with a soft curiosity. “Wow… okay, this might feel a little cold, but it’s going to help me hear your lungs, okay?”

Leonardo pulled out a device that Lita didn't recognize, letting her look it over for only a few seconds before bringing it to her chest to listen to her breathing. He kept the cold tool there for a moment before pulling away and walking back over to whisper to Donatello, who took quick notes of his brother's words. While they talked, Lita’s eyes couldn’t help but explore the sight of the other two mutant turtles that stood nearby. They were shoulder-to-shoulder with each other, staring at Lita and whispering softly in serious, curious voices. Lita felt unbelievably small compared to them.

“Lita.” Leonardo’s voice came again, “My brother here is going to take some measurements of his shell to see if he can’t get you fitted with something.”

Donatello stepped forward, standing unlike his kneeling brother, and addressed Lita like an equal. He pointed to the straps over his shoulder, “See this?” He turned around to show her his battle shell before turning back around to face her, “This is my battleshell— aka, my livelihood! Since there are no surgical options to help you with current technology, I am going to make you something just like this, except on your plastron instead of your carapace. It will cover your heart, so you aren’t just… hanging out there and give you additional protection against brunt force trauma.”

As Donatello continued to rant, he finally kneeled, but not to address her face to face; he started to measure the area of her plastron with careful, calculated measurements while metal arms coming from his battle shell scribbled down the notes he needed.

“I can design it to grow with you, but you will have to come back every two years to get a replacement fitting, so it doesn’t get too worn down and become structurally unsound.” He finished his measurements and stood back up, “We can arrange a meeting in two months to get you suited with your brand-new plastron. How’s that sound?”

“Good.” Lita squeaked softly.

“Do you guys have anywhere to go until then?” The biggest brother asked in the softest voice.

Mondo came back over and wrapped a thin, lanky arm around Lita and gave her a comforting squeeze. “Um… we can go back to the vent I guess.”

All four turtles immediately shook their head and voiced their disagreement.

“No.” The red brother insisted, “No— we ain’t letting you leave here until you have a safe, comfortable place to stay! Like our place!”

“Yeah!” The orange-spotted turtle chirped, “You guys can have my room!”

“And it would be better able to keep an eye on her condition.” Leonardo added, walking up behind the two of them and wrapping supportive arms around the two children. “Trust me, niño y niña! You’ll love it at our place!”

“Think dad’ll let them stay?” The orange turtle chirped.

“You kidding? Dad would never turn away a couple’a kids!” Leonardo declared, “You can stay with us until we get you decked out someplace nice! How’s that sound?”

Lita smiled softly. “It sounds amazing!”

~~~

Two hundred years passed since that day, but Lita remembered it so clearly. She was sure she would be able to find her way around the past city even without the aid of Donatello’s maps, but still he insisted on her having one. She didn't think it was important enough to argue— it was only a day trip. Just get the egg and get out. She didn't know why her friends were all acting so weird about it though; she had gone on tons of missions into the past with the time scepter, and this one would be no different.

When she arrived in the city, the first thing she did was take a long, deep breath of the clean city air. Clean, at least, compared to what she had grown used to. She couldn’t spend long enjoying it, though. Tokka needed to be brought back home. Though she was reluctant to admit it, Donatello’s map had indeed helped her just as he said it would. Squeezing herself into the sewer was harder than she would care to admit, but she made it work. Then she had to swim, which was of little concern seeing as she was built to be aquatic.

She emerged in a place that sparked an odd memory and made her heart give a strong pang. She knew this place— and she knew those two creatures staring back at her as they held her little Tokka.

“Holy shell…”

[jungle321jungle]

Virgil’s Guide To Avoid Accidentally Falling In Love With Your Boss’ Boss: Step Seven

Virgil’s just trying to fake his way through life, but when he finds it hard to shake his hot boss’ boss’s attention- on account of their adopted sons being twins- things get complicated.

Ao3

~~~~

Step Seven: Absolutely Do Not Say It

Virgil had been having a bad day. A bad week. A bad weeks?  

That wasn’t grammar. But then again nothing made sense anymore. Virgil wasn’t entirely sure what time was or what it meant anymore. He had too much to think about and get done to focus on anything else.

The root of all his issues could be traced to work unsurprisingly. He had been given the opportunity to take the lead on a project, which was good and fine. Until he had learned that he would need to present in front of the CEO. And then the person he was working closest with was called overseas so they could only work over video call at absurd hours. And it’s not like this needed to be perfect or anything, because it wasn’t like the CEO was going to have a company party the evening after Virgil’s presentation so Virgil would have to face him twice. 

So yeah work was a mess. 

Virgil was just lucky that Dee was obligated to be on his side.  

“Damnit,” Virgil muttered searching through his suitcase. Finally he gave a sigh and turned to Dee who was watching him. “I’m gonna have to run to my place.”

“It’s almost one am,” Dee said in confusion.  

Virgil nodded and grabbed his keys, “I left stuff in my desk, and this is the only time Daniel is free so we can work.”

“When do you plan on sleeping though?” 

“When I’m done.”

Dee gave a sigh but it was clear to see he didn’t agree, “Alright. Do you want me to make some coffee for when you get back?”

“No, no, you get some sleep. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Virgil entered his own home with a yawn and out of reflex he flipped the switch before he remembered his power was out. What was this, day five now without electricity? The power outage had been a result of a storm and a few other things going wrong and it had succeeded in leaving Virgil’s street without power. But given it seemed there were more important places on the street who deserved power than him and his neighbors. 

Thankfully Dee had allowed Virgil and Roman to stay with him, but Virgil couldn’t help but feel a tad guilty. He shook his head to ignore the thoughts and instead turned on his phone flashlight and moved to his room. Inside he went to the desk and began grabbing whatever files could possibly be important and shoved them in a bag. He glanced at the clock hoping he could make it back to Dee’s before Daniel called.  

~~~~

“Okay spill.”

Virgil looked up from his lunch confused to see his coworkers has gathered around him, “Spill what?”

“You and the Boss!” Liam said sitting across from the table. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Uh? She gave me corrections on the project?”

 “N-not her! You and Ekans! You guys are crazy close.”

Virgil gave a sigh, “We are raising our kids.”

“You guys are still close.”

“Is there something more going on?” Someone else chimed in.  

“Are you together?” Asked a third. 

Virgil gave a groan. 

“Did you come to my office to simply groan on my couch, or did you come to make out on my desk?”

“Neither!” Virgil answered turning to Dee’s smirking face, wishing his blush would go away. “I just needed a break from people asking me what our relationship is.”

Dee raised an eyebrow, “So to get them to stop questioning us... you came to my office?”

Virgil paused, “I’m tired Dee. Don’t ask me to do things that make sense.”

Dee shrugged and turned his attention to his desktop, “You could just tell them all we’re together.”

“Nope. They freaked when they thought you were playing favorites before. What will they do when they find out I’m your actual favorite?” 

“I don’t believe I’ve ever said you were.”

“I am if you want this to work. And you said before that you didn’t want others to know with your ex lurking in the shadows.” 

“Well it’s been over a month and he’s backed off. And I don’t think he lurks. And you’re much more the lurking the type to be honest. Plus if we admit it, that means I can one hundred percent kiss you whenever I feel like it.”

“I don’t think that would be very professional.”

Dee looks up from his computer with a smile, “So? Long as it’s not with the CEO what is anyone going to do? They’re all pretty scared of me.”

“I...I don’t think that’s a good thing.”

“I do.”

“I don’t know what to do with you.”

 “If you need ideas we could start with you climbing on my desk and-” 

“No.”

~~~~ 

Virgil blinked, “Huh?”

“I just wanted to speak with you a bit if that’s alright,” Mr. Hart said again. “Perhaps just for a bit when you come to pick Roman up?”

Virgil nodded slowly in agreement, “Um, alright...”

The teacher gave him a large smile which didn’t do too much to call Virgil’s nerves. 

What could Roman’s teacher possibly want to speak to him privately about? Had Roman been acting out? Were kids being mean to him? Was he struggling? If he was, why hadn’t Roman told him?

“I can hear you thinking,” Dee commented as they walked back to his car. 

“Mr. Hart wants to speak with me,” Virgil yawned. “I don’t know what about though.” 

“Well I doubt it’s anything too serious,” Dee tried. “He called me in a few weeks ago to tell me that Remus kept trying to eat magnets... I have tried so many times to get him to stop.”

Virgil chuckled, “I have multiple questions about that.” 

Dee sighed, “Logan once used a magnet to pick up a fork or something, and ever since Remus seems convinced that if eats magnets he’ll get magnet powers. Doesn't matter that he’s been trying for years and only succeeded in making me drive to the emergency room.” 

“At least he’s persistent?” 

“Sure. Anyway, my point is, I doubt it's serious.”

“I’m pretty sure eating magnets counts as serious."

“Yes but I have the chaotic twin, you don’t.”

Virgil paused as climbed in Dee’s car, “Is it wrong that I feel a tad better?”

 Dee shrugged, “Hell if I know.”

His nerves were running high. 

Well higher than usual. Well no he had already been worried about work so they had doubled. Or was it more than that? What exactly was math again?

“Dad!” The sounds of Roman’s voice was an instant relaxer. He smiled and bent down to give his son a hug.

“Have a good day?”

“Yeah, did you?”

“I did.”

“But why’d you come inside? Usually you pick me up in the pick up line.” 

Virgil nodded, “That’s true, but this morning when I walked you in to help carry your project? Your teacher said he wanted to talk to me for a few minutes. So why don’t you head with Remus and Dee to get Logan from his class, while I talk to Mr. Hart?” 

Roman frowned, “I didn’t do anything.”

Virgil smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair, “I believe you.”

Roman still seemed skeptical of the situation, but he joined Remus and Dee and left the room. There were only two students left- but they were gathering their things- and their teacher Mr. Hart who gave Virgil a friendly smile and wave. 

Virgil gave an awkward one back as he approached where the man was erasing a whiteboard, “Hi... Mr. Hart.” 

“Hi and just call me Patton,” he greeted. “How was your day?”

Virgil resisted the urge to say he had been stressing about this all day and instead said: “It was fine. You?”

“I’m good- hi Mindy!” He waved as a woman entered the door. 

The woman exchanged a greeting before the two kids left with her talking excitedly about after school. In other words, leaving Virgil and Patton alone. 

“You wanted to talk to me?” Virgil asked awkwardly. 

The teacher nodded and turned to lean back against the board so he could watch Virgil with concern filled eyes. “Roman told me something kind of... disconcerting,” he started gently. 

Virgil gave a swallow as he nodded for the man to go on. “What about?”

“About you.”

This was it. The end of the road. There must have been some type of miscommunication. And now the teacher must think Virgil would harm his son? Is that what this was about? Would- Would Roman be taken away- no no no. He forced the line of thinking away. “What about me?”

“He said that you weren’t sleeping,” the teacher said catching Virgil off guard. “That you have barely been eating, and that you seem worried all the time... Roman is really worried about you. And now I can’t help but be worried either.”

Virgil wasn’t sure how to function well enough to respond. It felt like a kick in the chest.  

Had he really been causing his son so much worry? So much pain?

“I know you don’t really know me but I’m always willing to listen,” Patton said in Virgil silence. He moved to his desk and pulled something out a drawer and scribbled something on it before holding it out for Virgil to take. “If you ever just want to talk about anything and get coffee or something, just let me know. Okay, kiddo?”

Virgil slowly, “O-okay.”

“Is it over?” Roman asked when Virgil joined them in front of the school. 

“Did he get in trouble?” Remus asked. 

“No one’s in trouble,” Virgil replied looking down to Roman before he pulled his confused boy into a hug. “Just reminded that I’ve got great kid.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Roman smiled hugging him back. 

“You alright?”

Virgil looked up from where he had been spinning the teacher’s business card in his hands to where Dee was sitting across the couch from him. “I’m fine, why?”

“Because you’ve seen shaken since we left the school. And you kept staring at that number. Don’t tell me he hit on you.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and looked to where the boys were playing some sort of game before he pocketed the card. “He told me that Roman’s been saying that he’s worried about me. My sleeping and eating habits I mean. I... I didn’t realize he could tell.” 

“He’s smart,” Dee shrugged. “And it’s not exactly as if you’re hiding it... I’m worried about you too.” 

“Once I’m done with this project,” Virgil lied. Lie. He knew it was one. Because there would always be more work to do. 

Dee could see through the lie but instead he sighed and changed the direction of the conversation, “Why did he give you his number?” 

“Incase I wanted to talk? He suggested getting coffee.”

“You should talk to him.”

Virgil frowned, “I don’t know...”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“Do you want me to run through each of the scenarios?”

Dee gave a sigh, “How about this, tell me when the last time you hung out with your friends was?”

Virgil’s gaze fell to his hands, “I-I... don’t have any.”

“Huh? What about-” 

“Everyone at the office doesn’t mind my presence when I’m there, but they’d never talk to me outside of work. There’s the other parents, but it’s clear they don’t like me that much. And your friends are yours... so yeah, I-” he gave a short laugh at his own absurdity. “I don’t have any friends here.”

He felt stupid. He felt pathetic. 

He felt lonely. 

Yes he had Dee and he had Roman, but other than that he had no one. Definition of pathetic right?

Dee’s hug wasn’t helping. It didn’t change the loneliness in Virgil’s heart and yet it was still appreciated. 

“You should meet you with him,” Dee said after a pause. 

Virgil chose to lean into his boyfriend’s chest instead of reply.  

“He seems like a nice person,” Dee tried again. “And it would be good for you to do something for you.”

“I do things for me.”

“Like what? To me it seems like you do everything to make Roman happy, and then a lot to make me and my boys happy, but what do you do to make yourself happy?” 

“I’m happy when you guys are happy. That’s... that's all I need.”

Virgil felt as Dee gave a sigh, “Virgil...”

“Fine... If- if I say I’ll text him will you drop it?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine.”

~~~~

Virgil arrived early. 

He wasn’t entirely sure why, but here he sat fifteen minutes early in the corner of this cafe. 

He swirled the coffee in his cup as he stared purely as something to do. He was still doing just that when Patton appeared at the other side of the table, a large smile on his face. 

“Hi! I’m so glad you actually texted me!”

Virgil nodded awkwardly, “Um yeah... I can buy you something to drink?” 

“No no kiddo. I can pay for myself, I’ll be right back. Did you want something?”

“I’m still working on this one.”

“It’s kind of funny getting to talk to you actually,” Patton commented when he returned and sat down. “I usually just get to know parents through their kids. I don’t have actual conversations with them often.”

“Only when something’s wrong?” Virgil guessed.

“Or when something is really good. But how are you?”

“Fine I guess, you?”

“I’m good.” There was a short pause and Virgil spent it wondering when the man would just get to the point and began hammering into Virgil about taking care of himself, but instead he just asked, “Can I call you Virgil? Or do you prefer Mr. Storm?”

“V-Virgil is fine...”

He nodded satisfied, “Perfect. You have anything fun planned coming up, Virgil? Roman was saying you were going to a party or something.” 

“Yeah, um work is going to be having a fancy party next week. But um... does he talk about me a lot?”

“All the time. It’s clear you’re his favorite person.”

“Remus is his favorite person,” Virgil disagreed quickly.  

Patton looked surprised but he shook his head, “No, you’re definitely his favorite. He said so himself in an essay about his role model.”

Virgil could’ve died happy in that moment.  

The rest of time proceeded with conversation which evolved from talk about Roman, to talk about Virgil, to everything that was bothering Virgil. It was strange being able to so easily talk to another person. It was like Patton had bewitched him with his smile and forced Virgil to trust him. 

And the worst part was that Virgil wasn’t even upset about it.  

~~~~

“Virgil.”

The seriousness of Dee’s voice caused Virgil to look up in surprise from where he had been fidgeting with his blazer, “What?” He asked worriedly. “Do I look stupid?” 

Dee looked confused at the question, “No, you look amazing, what are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?” 

“This!” Dee shouted holding Virgil’s phone. “Patton texted you.”

Virgil looked at the screen and read the text aloud, “Have fun tonight.”

“It’s not fair,” Dee declared. “You two have been friends for a week and you’re texting casually. Meanwhile you only text me now and then.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow in confusion, “I have literally been in the same room as you all day.” 

“But that was at work during your presentation.”

“I’m sorry, did you want me to stop talking to the CEO in order to text you back?”

“I wouldn’t have minded.”

Virgil paused, “I don’t know even know how to respond to that. So instead can we go to the party?”

“This isn’t over.”

“Yes it is.” 

~~~~

The party was going... fine?

Once they had arrived Dee had split to go entertain the CEO and placate him while Virgil had been left to his coworkers. But at least there was an open bar. 

“Storm?”

Virgil turned and gave a polite smile to the man who had called his name. It was a man from accounting, but Virgil could not for the life of him remember the man’s name. “Hi.” 

“Hey Bryan,” someone else said thankfully. 

Bryan gave a nod, “How are all of you?”

Virgil mumbled a “good” and listened to others talk before a comment caught him off guard. 

“Oh, did you not bring a date Storm?”

“Virgil very single,” Liam answered for him. 

“And very gay,” Marie added. 

“That’s not needed,” Virgil replied awkwardly as he noticed Bryan take a step closer.  

“Someone would pass on you, Virgil?” Bryan asked in surprise.  

Virgil wished he was drunk, “I’m really not looking for anything right now.” 

But unfortunately the conversation and forced flirting continued while Virgil stood awkwardly in between until after way too long Virgil managed to escape to the lobby with the excuse of wanting to call the babysitter.  

He gave a sigh and sat down in a chair and pulled out his phone. 

After about ten minutes he rose from his seat to head back inside but unfortunately Bryan crossed his path before he could escape inside.  

“Call go well?” Bryan asked.

Virgil nodded, “Yeah, he’s- he’s getting ready for bed...”

“How old is your son?” He asked casually, making no move to let Virgil walk away without conversation.  

“He’s seven... um, do you have kids?”

“No, just me. Figured I’d take the dive on that when I meet the right one.”

“That makes sense...” 

“So... do you-” 

“I’m sorry,” Virgil blurted. “Um Bryan? Look you seem nice and all, but um...”

“Hm?”

“I’m actually seeing someone. I just haven’t told everyone.” 

The man’s eyes widened and then he gave an understanding nod. “Oh...”

Virgil mumbled another apology and ducked back inside. 

The party was finally winding down when Virgil met up with Dee. Virgil and coworkers seemed to have the same idea as his boyfriend and were grabbing a final drink before the bar closed.  

“Hey,” he greeted. 

Dee nodded and took a swig from his glass, “Hi... Have a good night?”

Virgil shrugged, “It was fine. I-”

“Virgil!” Marie interjected. “Bryan is leaving. You should talk to him first.”

Virgil gave a grimace, “I’m really not interested.” 

“Have some fun! It doesn’t have to be serious.”

“Look really I-”

“He’s not interested,” Dee interrupted from behind Virgil. “He’s already dating someone.”

Marie’s eyes widened in shock, “Y-you are?”

“Dee,” Virgil warned turning to him, but Dee gave him a serious look in return. 

“I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt, but then I saw him talking to you all night. And it was in that moment, when I wanted to break his face for simply being in your personal space, that I realize that I’m one hundred percent in love with you.” 

Virgil wasn’t sure how function well enough to respond. 

He could feel his face darkening into a blush as he heard the surprised twitters of his coworkers around them.  

“We were supposed to be keeping things quiet,” Virgil mumbled. 

Dee seemed to take that as a challenge, and the next thing he knew Virgil found lips on his. Virgil couldn’t help but kiss the man back before he pulled away. “You’re ridiculous,” Virgil smiled. “But I love you too.”

~~~~

Step Six - Step Seven - Step Eight

Wow the next is the last. Thanks for sticking around.

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[randomguywithwords]

As The Dust Settles: Chapter 22 (Geten X Dabi Slowburn)

Chapter 22: Lost Memories

AO3 Link

Previous Chapters: 21, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

–––––––––––

On Friday, Dabi found himself surrounded by four figures, recognising only one by his still-long silver hair like strands of moonlight, his hardened, battle-scarred face and calm expression. 

“This is a nice reunion. I can’t say I remember all of you – mostly because I don’t care to do so, but if Nine let you guys into his special club, you guys are likely decent.” Dabi smirked, eyeing each of them in turn. 

The rightmost one, an imposing wolf-man gave a growl. “Decent? I’ll show you decent.”

“Chimera,” Nine, to his left, spoke softly. To Dabi’s surprise, the subordinate huffed and stayed silent. Turning back to face Dabi, Nine said, “It has indeed been a while. You understand the logistics of this experiment?”

“Shigaraki put me to it, of course I do.” 

“Then let us proceed.” Nine stepped towards him, while his minions tensed up. 

“Nine, are you sure about this?” The skinny man directed a glare towards Dabi. Dabi didn’t need that to tell him they were suspicious of him. 

“I’ll be in safe hands. We will meet at the location I’ve given you all. Take care, friends.” Nine gave a wave of dismissal, and with some reluctance, the remaining three departed in silence. 

“Alright, let’s go.” Dabi pocketed his hands and began leaving the forest clearing, heading back towards Deika City. He heard Nine’s footsteps behind him. 

“Your demeanour has certainly shifted. What happened to the old Vengeance?”

“Who?”

“You, obviously.”

Dabi racked his brain, but the name didn’t ring a bell. “Well, I don’t call myself that horrible name now.”

“I’ve heard. Numerous cases of burnt corpses or piles of ashes, blue flames. They call you Dabi now. I thought it was peculiar, but it made sense when I could no longer contact your old mentor.” 

“Your squadmate.” Dabi corrected, the fact returning to his memories. As Nine’s voice entered his head, it hummed in resonance with old recollections where he had met the man in his teenagehood. He now recalled the one encounter, out of the few, where Dabi had first seen that calm, controlled countenance contort with rage, born from the ideology he stole. 

“It confused me initially. I wondered why a man you respected and perhaps even cared for would be subject to your flames. The possibilities ranged from hallucinogens to collateral damage. But no.” Nine murmured. “You killed Dabi intentionally, didn’t you?”

Dabi was silent for three seconds, the air cold as winter storms. “You were right,” Touya said. “He left me for dead, but I escaped, and then...yeah.”

Nine sighed. “How poetic. To die by his partner’s hands, as he let his squad die all those years ago. But that brings me to my other question.”

They were drawing near to civilization, weaving through pine trees and stepping over brooks. 

“Why take his name?” 

“Figure it out yourself,” Dabi said with a forceful tone of finality. “We’re almost reaching the place.” 

To his credit, Nine dropped the subject. Perhaps he did so because he needed what Shigaraki had to offer. Antagonising Dabi wouldn’t be smart.

They were reaching one of the tunnels that led to the Liberation Front’s assembly square, now empty. It was empty, likely only watched by Skeptic’s surveillance. But a few raised eyebrows is all it would draw; Skeptic was too cowardly to question Dabi’s tasks or Shigaraki’s plans. 

“Here?” Dabi heard disgust in Nine’s tone as the musty air rushed out of the opening doors. 

“Can’t let anyone see us. This is good.” Dabi shut the doors behind them. Tapping his earpiece, he said, “We’re good, Doc.”

“I’ve been waiting for a while now,” Ujiko huffed on the other end of the line. “Give me a second.”

“Have a safe trip, Nine, I’ll see you on Monday.” Dabi waved, concealing a grin. 

Nine gave a nod, before Ujiko’s teleportation took hold of his form, and Nine’s body disappeared within the swampy goo. 

Dabi leaned against the wall, feeling more memories return of the other Dabi. The first Dabi. Did I ever know his name? I don’t think he, nor Nine, ever told me. Special forces… all that secrecy. 

He felt his fire ignite on his arm out of instinct. He willed it to die, and instead, let the past engulf him. 

––––––––––

“What’s your name, kid?” 

“Touya.” I rubbed my hands out of instinct. What time is it? How long did I sleep?

“Quirk?”

“I can shoot fire.” 

“Was it you back there? The fire at that mall in the afternoon?” 

“No,” I lied. 

The stranger cocked his head. “I ain’t gonna report you to the police, kid. I’m not exactly on best terms with them myself.” 

“Are you…” The word on the tip of my tongue was like a matchstick to a fuse. 

“A villain?” He scoffed. “I just fixed you up and gave you a place to sleep for the night. Do I look like one?” 

I looked him up and down. Grey coat, green goggles on his forehead, a cigarette in his hand. “No,” I said. 

“Well, your perception needs some work.” He leaned back on the creaky folding chair. “Officially, I’m considered one, but unlike the thugs in alleys like this, I have standards. And I don’t take kids hostage, even if you’re Endeavour’s kid.” 

I backed away, my back slamming against the mouldy bricks. “How did you —“ 

“Please, a fire quirk, and recent sightings of Endeavour at the same mall that was set on fire? Don’t play dumb with me.” 

“That was his doing,” I argued. 

He took a puff and clucked his tongue. “Now you’re blaming it on your dad? Not very filial.” 

“I hate my dad.” The venom coursed through every word I spat out, which seemed to startle even the stranger.

“Hm, some spirit in you. Well, take that bravado and run off now, why don’t you?” 

“What?” 

He quirked his eyebrow. “You heard me, shoo.” 

“But…” My head drooped. “I’ve nowhere to go. I’m running away.”

“Well, you should have thought of a plan before setting fire to a mall, using that as an escape, and nearly choking to death in the flames you made.” Every word in that sentence made my skin shudder. 

I was desperate, I wanted to say, but desperation would only paint me as prey in the underbelly of society, my next stage of hell that the gods were benevolent enough to throw me into.  

“I can help you,” I decided to say, raising my head, mustering the drops of defiance in myself.

The man snorted. “How exactly does a 13 year old kid benefit me? I don’t do teams, boy.” 

“What if I beat you in a fight?” I clenched my fists, which still stung from the wounds. 

He scanned my form and the guise of confidence on my face. “Oh, so you were trained by Endeavour. I thought you were one of those prissy boys enjoying a rich life.”

My face drained of heat and colour. How did he know?

“Look, I’m not a smart guy, but I’m smarter than you. I can make my own assumptions, one of which is that I’d win you in a fight. No contest.”

“I…” My voice trailed off.

“How about this?” The man said, throwing his cigarette behind him. “You know hide and seek?” 

I frowned. “Yes. It’s a childish game.”

“I don’t think so. I think it’s one of the best strategies for its simplicity. Let’s play that game. Give me a minute, then go to the nearby park. It’s midnight, no one will see you. And if you get caught by a stray policeman, I’m not saving you again. Anyway, if you can find me, I’ll let you in. Got it?” 

I gulped, hoping this wasn’t dangerous for myself, but considering how I’d be unconscious for a couple of hours and he hadn’t done anything, I felt a sense of trust in this stranger. 

“Ok, tha – thank you. How long do I have?”

“60 seconds. Start counting.” With that, he left the alley. 

1...2...3

Ten seconds in, I wondered if he was simply leaving me as a twisted joke. How far could he run in a minute? What was his quirk anyway? 

Twenty seconds in, I contemplated scrounging this hideout for whatever I could find and running from him, but the guilt of betraying his hospitality stopped me. 

Thirty seconds in, in a moment of panic, I thought he was going to turn me in. What if people died in the fire? I would be held responsible, wouldn’t I? What if everything he said about himself being a villain was a lie?

The minute felt stretched into eternity with the unceasing torrent of worries flooding my mind. But after being frozen in one spot throughout, I heard myself say 60. Taking a deep breath, I got up and left the hideout, entering the cold night. 

––––––––––

Dabi heard the door groan open. He opened his eyes to see a familiar form, shrouded by a recognizable parka hood.

“You?” Dabi frowned. “What are you doing here?”

Geten’s form went rigid, like a burglar who had been caught by a flashlight. 

“I thought...there was a meeting,” She said. 

“And you chose to enter by this tunnel?” His tone was acidly amused. 

Geten didn’t reply for a couple of seconds. “Yes.” 

Dabi sighed. “For a lieutenant, you’re shit at lying. You were following me, weren’t you? Why would you enter an empty place where you know your entrance would be heard so goddamn clearly?” 

“You were in there for a while. I thought,” She caught herself, but relented. “I thought something happened to you. That man. He looked dangerous.”

Dabi’s breath was stuck in his throat. It was his turn to be stunned. “I was fine, alright. I’m just thinking. So, how much did you hear?” He folded his arms in annoyance, but he found it suddenly difficult to muster anger against her.

“Next to nothing, apart from your farewell. What are you doing when the Festival starts?” 

“I’ll be there during the Festival. Don’t worry.” Dabi figured Twice could simply generate a copy of him. Technically, it was the truth. 

“You’re a liar.” The emotion in her words took him aback, as if that really struck a painful chord in her. “You wouldn’t sound so reassuring. What’s going on?” 

Ugh. Shigaraki won’t be happy if I told her. 

“I’m not going to divulge this to anyone. I’ve no intention to, anyway,” She added.

“It’s just a side task, okay? You can handle the regiment just fine.”

Geten was quiet, then she spoke, “Can we continue this somewhere else?”

“Why?”

“Wouldn’t want to make the amateur mistake you did when speaking to that man.” She gestured around them. 

Ah. Dabi had an idea what she intended to say. “If you say so. Where’s a good place?” 

But Geten responded only by opening the door and motioned for him to follow. 

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Love Her (Part 8)

Summary: Dean and the reader are recovering at home when they start to look over the paperwork for her to leave the system. Dean has a strange feeling though and when Sam takes a look, more than a few bombshells are dropped and the reader learns Dean’s still haunts him deeply...

Masterlist

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 3,400ish

Warnings: language, mentions of death/fire, so much angst

______

“Y/N,” said Ana, rushing into your room early the next morning. You took a deep breath and rubbed your face in the dark room. “Nightmare?”

“Yeah,” you said, laying back down, staring at the ceiling. “What time is it?”

“About seven thirty. Why don’t you go back to sleep? Dean’s still passed out in bed,” she said.

“Are the twins up?” you asked.

“They’re finishing breakfast and then I’ll drop them off. You need something? You want some water?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” you said, rolling to your side, back to her. You felt the bed dip and you sighed. “I’m not in the mood for a talk.”

“You know, everyone in this house has nightmares. Everyone here has some kind of trauma. It sucks but those are the cards we all got dealt. But somehow we all wound up together.”

“Your point?” you asked.

“You have three people you trust. Rae and Ryan you know would never hurt you. Dean, you trust him to protect you, even if you’re not willing to admit it to yourself yet. I understand that I’ll have to earn it with you. But give me a little to work with,” she said.

“I don’t have much faith in people anymore,” you said.

“Yeah. I didn’t used to either. Then I met my husband Dan and he reminded me that there are good people out there. He died four years ago. Dean was…” she trailed off. You looked back over your shoulder at her.

“What?”

“He’s just a good man. He’ll put you three kids before the world,” she said. “I know how much he’s done for me. I hope you can put everything that happened behind the two of you and just be family.”

“Do you take care of him?” you asked. She nodded. “Good. I know there’s other things that happened to him. He deserves to be taken care of too.”

“I know you were eavesdropping the other night. Well, I figured it out eventually but those other things Dean and I might have discussed, let him bring them up,” she said.

“He and his dad used to fight a lot, right?” you asked.

“I’ll just say, you kids, and especially the fact that you are back, have helped him heal more than anything,” she said. 

“Ana,” you said. “I do like you. Be patient with me is all.”

“Y/N, I will be as patient as you need me to be,” she said, giving you a smile. “Don’t worry about me. Focus on you. I’m sure we can get to the point of doing our hair and gossiping and eating too much cheese and chocolate in our sweatpants. You two hang out and recover for now, okay?”

“Mhm,” you said.

“Alright. Head back to sleep for me. You need it.”

“Alright, you’re doing better,” said Dean after lunch, putting his flashlight away after checking your concussion again.

“You are such a worrier,” you said as you finished off the last of your ice tea.

“You took a hit that would have landed me on my ass. I’m just a tad concerned,” he said.

“Hey, when I’m all better, can I box again?” you asked.

“Yeah. I missed doing that with you,” he said. “I’m guessing you never kept up with it then.”

“No. I didn’t want to,” you said with a shrug. “Just did school and read a lot. Anything happen around here I don’t know about?”

“I don’t think so. Ryan and Rae play soccer. They’re advanced readers in school which is pretty awesome. Sam got a girlfriend, Eileen. I asked him to hold off on introducing you guys yet. I thought it was a lot of new at once,” said Dean.

“Thanks,” you said. The doorbell rang and you both turned your heads, Dean frowning. He walked over and you followed, Dean opening it to reveal Paula standing there.

“Dean,” she said, stepping inside.

“Paula. Your unannounced visits don’t have the best track record with us,” said Dean, narrowing his eyes at her.

“This is a routine conversation I have with any foster that turns eighteen,” she said. “May I?”

Dean waved his hands and she walked over to the living room, taking a seat on the couch as you crossed your arms in the chair, Dean walking over and standing behind you.

“Well you two look chipper today, don’t you,” she said.

“Whatever you’re talking about, she ain’t leaving,” said Dean.

“Y/N,” said Paula, opening up her bag and ignoring him. “I know your original intention was to stay in foster care as long as you were able to. However, this leaves you in the system technically and given your desire to stay with Dean, I’d recommend you leave the service. As you’re eighteen, you don’t have to have the requirements such as a home or income or-”

“Give me whatever I have to sign. I want out,” you said.

“I figured you’d want that,” she said, sliding over some papers. Dean picked them up off the coffee table. “Your signature isn’t required.”

“I want Sam to read these over first,” said Dean.

“It’s all perfectly standard,” she said.

“Paula. I’m having a lawyer look at these before Y/N signs anything,” he said. 

“Fine,” she said. “Call my office when she’s ready.”

Paula left without another word and Dean frowned.

“That was weird,” you said.

“You ever get a bad feeling about her?” Dean asked you.

“She’s not my favorite person in the world but I guess I don’t really know. Why?” you asked.

“She was always telling me not to contact you and not to tell you about your dad’s custody terms. The stuff with Rae and Ryan getting ripped apart shouldn’t have been that much of a possibility if she was willing to fight it. I always had this weird feeling about her after she took you away that night,” he said. “Even like with the doctor’s office thing. It all seemed odd to me.”

“Maybe you’re just worried,” you said.

“I hope so. We’ll have Sam look at this just to be sure.”

“Y/N, you didn’t sign anything, correct?” asked Sam in Dean’s office that night.

“No,” you said, giving him a look. “Why?”

“There’s a clause in here, a sneaky little one that would block all future adoption attempts, even as an adult. You could always fight back but it would likely take years if you’d...Dean,” said Sam, getting up when Dean left the room.

“I’m gonna kill her,” said Dean when you both caught up with him in the foyer, Sam grabbing his arm but Dean shrugged away and started pacing. “I’m gonna kill the bitch, I swear...she stole Y/N from me, from us.”

“We don’t know-”

“She stole her!” said Dean, fuming as Ana came out from their room and into the foyer. “She along with that asshole murdering convict hurt my kid.”

“Dean-”

“My daughter, Sam! For what? So the sick bastard could keep her? No, he wants to control her. I’d kill him too if I could get to him but I’ll settle for-”

“Dean,” said Ana, looking at you. “Calm down.”

Dean stared at her and laughed, throwing his hands up. You looked to Sam who was shaking his head.

“Last time I calmed down, my brother died,” said Dean, his face hard but you all heard the light waiver to his voice.

“Brother?” you asked. Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“We had a half brother,” said Sam quietly. “Dad…”

“Dad snuck out on mom once when we were kids. He got some other woman pregnant. No one knew until this other woman got cancer and died and here’s five year old Adam coming to live with us,” said Dean.

“That’s why you fought with your dad,” you said, Dean nodding.

“Couldn’t even wrap it up when he had to cheat. But mom was a saint through it all and by then, they’d worked their crap out so Adam became our brother. I was so angry with dad, we didn’t speak a whole lot for a few years. When I was twenty, us boys went camping. Adam was only eight at the time,” said Dean, swallowing hard. He opened his mouth to speak but you saw him hesitate.

“We got lost and we ended up getting separated,” said Sam. “I broke an arm, Dean dislocated his shoulder and Adam…”

“Adam fell,” said Dean. “And he got hurt and he didn’t wake up.”

Dean bit his bottom lip and looked away, putting his back to you when you saw him shudder.

“Things got bad,” said Sam.

“Dad thought I did it on purpose,” said Dean, his voice high and cracking a bit. You figured he was crying, even if you couldn’t see. “He was my little brother. I got one killed and nearly got Sam killed too.”

“Dean kind of stopped talking to us after he and dad had their blowout. I got a phone call every once in a while but that was it. It wasn’t until Joanna had her accident that everyone made up again,” said Sam. 

“You’re forgetting the part where dad thought I did it as payback because he got you out of the house first when it caught on fire when Sam was a baby,” said Dean. “I was fucking four and he thought…”

The house was quiet aside from Dean crying into Ana’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around him.

“He’s wrong,” you said, Dean wiping off his face before he looked back at you. “Your dad was wrong. I think he was angry and took it out on you. I’m sorry. I don’t think he thinks that anymore but he was wrong to ever say that. You’re kind and understanding and you care about people. You didn’t deserve any of those bad things to happen to you, no one in this room did. Everyone’s got their own fucked up shit to deal with and you could have forgotten about me. But you didn’t. You protect me and you make sure I’m safe and I know it’s okay to be a complete mess because you’re always there for me and I think your dad should realize that you’re the kind of parent every kid needs. I need you.”

He gave you a smile, one you remembered seeing when Ryan called him dad for the first time. You weren’t ready for that but for the first time since your mom had died, you knew it in your core that someone loved you unconditionally.

“So listen to Ana and just take a breather. It’s okay. I’m okay. We’ll talk to the office and get it all worked out,” you said. He nodded and Ana took him by his arm back to their room, Sam looking down at you.

“Let’s make her life hell,” said Sam. You blinked slowly at him. “She fucked with you, she fucked with all of us. She’s gonna pay for that.”

“Is he okay?” you asked.

“No,” said Sam. “No, he’s not. He doesn’t talk about Adam. It’s too raw for him. But what you said meant the world to him. He will be eventually. I can guarantee he’s going to be holding onto what you said while he rides through this one though.”

“Can you stay over tonight?” you asked.

“Yeah. I wasn’t really planning on going anywhere, kiddo,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks, Sam,” you said, giving him a hug.

“We have to talk some more about this stuff so I can start to work a timeline. You okay to do that now or do you want to wait until tomorrow?” he asked.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m not in the mood right now,” you said.

“Alright. I’m not much either,” he said. “Why don’t you take a hot shower and call it an early night? I’ll be up in the guest room if you need me.”

After your shower, you lay in bed for awhile, watching the clock tick by until it was after eleven. You got out of bed and wandered down to Dean’s room. The door was open a crack and you caught Ana’s face, getting a wave inside from her. Dean was passed out beside her with his head buried in her side, her hand in his hair.

“You guys okay?” you whispered. She nodded and smiled.

“He’ll be okay. I’m going to stay home tomorrow. You?” she said back.

“I’m okay,” you said, giving her a smile. “I just wanted to check.”

You turned around and left, just out of their side of the house when you felt arms wrap around you.

“S’not your job to worry about me, sweetheart,” said Dean quietly.

“We’re family. It’s always my job,” you said. You felt a half-laugh, half shaky breath against your back. He kissed the top of your head and gave you a big hug. 

“Thank you for checking on me,” he said. “Now go to bed for me unless you need me for something.”

“I’m okay, Dean,” you said.

“You sure? That was some pretty big news we found out tonight about Paula,” he said.

“I’m more concerned with you,” you said.

“I’m okay. I will be,” he said. “I never wanted to tell you like that. It’s not something I talk about really.”

“It’s okay. I cry too,” you said.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he said. “Go on now. Bedtime.”

He dropped his arms away and you headed down the hall, spinning back around quickly. He was already gone though and you went back to your room, climbing under the covers.

“Good morning,” you said when Ana and Dean walked into the kitchen. “Sam took the twins to school and I helped make breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to do that, sweetheart,” said Dean as he went past and ruffled your head.

“Sam did most of it,” you said as Ana grabbed herself a few plates for her and Dean.

“Well thank you sweetheart,” he said, taking a seat at the counter. 

“He looks better,” you said quietly as you got him some coffee.

“He is. Mostly. Still upset about the whole Paula situation for the most part,” said Ana.

“I know you two are talking about me,” said Dean.

“Periods, babe,” she said as she spun around.

“Oh,” he said, Ana smirking when her back was to him. “I mean...is something wrong? I’m a doctor and a big boy. You guys can talk about that in front of me.”

“Yes, we were talking about you,” laughed Ana. “Take the hint next time, De.”

“I was buying tampons for her before you,” said Dean.

“I didn’t realize you were an expert,” said Ana. “You guys go bra shopping too?”

“He hid outside the store,” you said.

“Listen, that I have no medical expertise on,” said Dean.

“He tried,” you said with a smile, setting his coffee down in front of him.

“Yeah, I tried,” he said, curling an arm around you waist as he took a sip, giving you a side hug.

“Dean,” said Ana, sliding a plate of food over to him. “Eat some food.”

He released you and you walked around to sit up on the kitchen island, your own coffee in your hands as you watched them eat.

“Are you two gonna stare at me all day?” he said with a mouthful of eggs.

“You got hedgehog hair,” you said, staring at him as he chewed slowly.

“Rabbit,” he said.

“How is that even a tease?” you asked.

“You both look like hedgehogs,” mumbled Ana.

“You’re one to speak,” said Dean.

“I better be a cute hedgehog,” she said. “Wait, I thought I was a fox.”

“Cause you got red hair and foxes are cute but you know, it could kill you if it wanted to,” said Dean. 

“I’m okay with a fox,” she said. “You know foxes come in more than just red. Y/N could be a baby fox.”

“I ain’t a baby fox,” you said.

“That’s right, she’s a baby wolf,” said Dean.

“Why am I baby? I am quite literally an adult now,” you said. They looked at one another and then back at you.

“Baby,” they both said, breaking into smiles.

“I’m not a baby!” you said.

“You’re cute like a baby,” said Ana.

“Come on, baby wolf. Still badass,” said Dean.

“Can I at least be like, teenage wolf?” you asked.

“Baby wolf. You don’t get to pick your own animal kid,” said Dean.

“At least I’m not a baby sloth,” you said.

“Ryan’s a goat,” said Ana.

“Naturally,” you said with a laugh. “He still loves his goats?”

“Oh yeah. I think we’ve gone to the fall festival like every weekend so far this year,” said Dean. “What did we pick for Rae? Crocodile?”

“Yeah. She bit a boy at the park,” said Ana as she ate.

“I was proud but had to pretend to be mad,” said Dean. “Some kid was bullying her so she showed him who’s boss.”

“A bully?” you asked.

“I mean, it wasn’t too long after you left. She and Ry were complaining to another kid that they missed you and the kid started to make fun of them and Ryan started crying and he ran over to me and I just saw Rae bite this kids arm and yeah, our baby of the family is a scrapper apparently,” he said.

“She’s tough,” you said.

“I always thought Ryan was the hard one until you left,” said Dean. “Turns out they’re both hard.”

“Do you still read to them?” you asked. Ana smiled and took a sip of her coffee, glancing at Dean.

“No, not so much anymore. They like to read on their own. They’re both very good. They’re always coming home with books from school,” he said.

“Dean says you’re a big reader,” said Ana.

“The foster kid normally doesn’t get to pick what to watch on TV. Books are free from the library,” you said.

“You want a TV for your room?” asked Dean. 

“You don’t have to,” you said.

“We’ll get you one. Unless you’re a fan of constant cartoons,” said Dean. You nodded and they returned to eating, Ana eyeing Dean every so often.

“Yes, honey?” he asked.

“If I leave you two alone to run to the grocery store for an hour are you good with that?” she asked. 

“Mhm,” he hummed.

“We’ll be okay,” you said.

“Alright. I’ll try not to be too long,” she said.

Fifteen minutes later the house was quiet and you’d gotten dressed, in a pair of leggings and a baggy shirt, wandering down to Dean’s room to find him lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hey.”

You climbed on top next to him, rolling onto your side.

“How’s the cheek today, sweetheart?”

“Okay,” you said. “Are you okay?”

He turned his head and shook it.

“Not really. Go get your jacket,” he said. “I want to go somewhere.”

_____

A/N: Read Part 9 here!

[a-reasonforthoughts]

My thoughts on the Rise of Skywalker, because quarantine forced me to finally watch it. !!!!Spoilers!!!!!

Growing up, Star Wars was my childhood. My sisters and I read all the books (including the comics) and we packed the Essential Guides with us everywhere. Because for our deep love of the Extended universe, when the last few movies came out we had... mixed emotions. I didn’t even see the last movie when it came out after hearing some less than stellar reviews. So here’s my review, or rather my reactions to the Rise of Skywalker. (Yes, I actually sat down with paper and pen and watched this movie.) Title craw: The DIABOLICAL First Order.

‘The Emperor has returned.’ Wow, the are expecting us to go along with a lot aren’t they.

Cool. Kylo wrecking everything.

Yay, a planet that isn’t snow, desert, or forest. Hold on tight kids, they’re throwing us right into this one. We’re already at Palpatine’s house.   Ew. Whats with the tank?

Whoa eyes! What’s up with his lips? Can someone bring this fossil a drink?

Imperial March playing while a Star Destroyer rises in the back ground. Is this Vader’s old ship? Rey is “Not who we thought she is.” Thought she was “Nothing”?

Ew, what is Klaud, and why is he here?

Who are all these people on the Falcon? “How do we thank you?” “Win the war.” aren’t you all on the same team? Why do you need to thank him? Cool, another planet thats not snow, desert, or a forest. Never mind.

Oh great, Rey’s here.  Looks like the Lightsaber is fixed.  I know the names of a bunch of these plants! When Luke was training with the ball thing (Training remote) he was just trying to deflect the shots. Rey’s trying to take down the whole forest. 

You sure you want to destroy that thing Rey? There can’t be to many of them laying around Who are all these people? Why’s the Falcon on FIRE?! Since when is “Light-speed skip” a thing? Seriously. Who are all these people? I thought after the last movie there was only like, 10 of them left. Hey! It’s Merry from Lord of the Rings!

What’s this old orange doing here?

“Sith Way-finder” Sigh. Are Poe and Rey a “thing”? Are Finn and Rey a “thing”? Why’s everyone here but R2? There he is. Why did they not bring him?!

Now I’m watching a Planet of the Apes crossover.

That guy who was on the same team is dead now. His blood is clear so the rating doesn't go up. Well, Hux is certainly different.

Someone must have taken his hair gel because his hair was never this poofy before.   Is this a Holi Festival, or Burning man.

Why are we learning the name of this random kid? Rey just walked away from her, what was that? Yay! The force link is still there!

Kylo is giving off stalker vibes. It’s nice to see him growing into his role of Supreme Leader. Looks like everyone hates him. Wait- Who is this guy?! Why are they following a stranger!

It’s LANDO Oh, so Rey know’s who Lando is, but thought Luke was a myth. Makes sense. Boom. First order is here.

Lando: “My flying days are over.” Why? “Give Leia my love.” Ew.  Wait, why is Lando out here? Did Luke just leave him? He said he came here with him. Has the emotional issues of being abandoned by Luke led him to never fly again? Is this a parallel story to Rey’s abandonment? What’s the motive here movie!  They made it even harder for these Storm Troopers to see out of those helmets.

3PO is getting a lot of lines. Rey *is distracted* Ship *Blows up*  Now they have sinking sand. WAS THAT ALMOST A CONFESSION?! This guy just says, “The Falcon is not responding.” when asked, and they’re like “Don’t be such a downer!” Oh yay, they survived.  Kay, we’re just brushing over Finn’s almost confession. I’m sure they’ll come back to that later. *Cough* Okay, that flashlight bit was funny. 

How do you know that’s the guy you’re looking for? That could be anybody’s skeleton! How’d they find a knife that neither Luke, or Lando (who might have been here for 20 years) could find!  Rey’s making friend’s with the basilisk.

She just transferred some of her life force to the snake! Why!? This old ship they found in the desert still works. “Chewie, tell Rey we got to go!” Why can’t you do it? You’re not doing anything. Axe. Here comes lover boy.  How to Breathe, the movie, by Rey.

Trailer shot.

Was he just gonna run her over?

Cool, she’s pulling the ship out of the sky. Uh oh, helmet’s off, there goes her focus.

Now they’re playing tug-a-war with the ship. It’s the light saber fight all over again.  Whoa!!! She juST LIGHTING’D THE SHIP! Kylo Looked freaked out for a second! She just told Finn she had a vision of her and Kylo together, and he looks like he’s gonna cry. 3PO tells them how horrible and dangerous it is to override a droid’s programming. “Let’s do that!” That droid looks like a yoga wheel and a hairdryer. 

Rey to the new droid: “Someone treated him badly. It’s alright, you’re with us now.” Yeah, just don’t watch what we’re about to do to this other droid.

Looks like we’re adding another girl to this love triangle (hexagon?) She’s not supposed to be a Mandalorian is she. (So help me-) I hate you and I’m going to turn you in *Hit’s her over the head and pulls out a lightsaber* Okay, lets go.

Why they so mad at Poe for being a smuggler?  Wow. They are forcing C-3PO to do this. Backup his memory to the hairdryer! It’s got to have a reason for being here! C-3PO “Oh! I just had an idea of something else we could try-” ZAP!  ...Was that supposed to be funny? These writers need to learn what humor is, and when to use it. Why are we focusing on Poe and his old girlfriend the Power Ranger? Wah! What’s up with 3PO’s eye’s? Is he a Sith droid now? Why does he have that function?!

Rey, you’re boyfriend’s here. They wiped 3PO’s memory and he doesn’t know who anyone is, but he’s still polite. Poe angrily points “That’s gonna be a problem!” Our heroes ladies and gentleman. I hope the First Order just blast them. That Admiral’s badge just let them in? Like no one reported that missing?? Wiped 3PO’s memory and they’re getting the dagger anyway. Worst rescue ever. 

Vaders Helmet has had a hard life. Rey has a vision in every scene she's in.

More ‘Rey’s family history’ with Kylo “Tell me where you are,” She’s in your room dude.

R.IP. Vader Helmet

That Stormtrooper behind Kylo must be so confused.  *Sees helmet, breaks link*  “She’s in my quarters!” Told you so. Why is Hux the spy? When did this happen? What does he think the outcome of this will be?

3PO just wandering the halls with a crossbow. 

“You are a Palpatine.” Wanna be a Solo? Is this like his fourth proposal? OooooOOOOooo, that was cool! Kylo standing in the blast of the Falcon’s engines was a moment we needed!

Yikes! They took out Hux fast! They didn’t want to question him or anything? No?

The Death Star was blasted to smithereens, why is it here? How is it here?

They made that dagger to line up with the wreckage? I’m pretty sure things that are constantly beat by the ocean will move or erode over time. Who even made that? What was the purpose?!

Yay, another scavenger  Who’s also a ex-Stormtrooper, because why not.

That’s a horse covered in a rug. Rey’s out trying to kill herself again.

“There’s another Skimmer!” Wonder who that is. He is literally following her to the ends of the galaxy. 

Wait- The throne rooms still in one piece?! The chair and everything?!!! Dark Rey- YIKES! TEETH

I thought he stopped the holocron with his foot, I was really surprised when fingers formed and he picked it up.

Kylo acting so cool as she’s trying to slash him to ribbons. I see Merry again! Wait- What’s Leia got to do? And why does Maz know? They’ve never explained what this strange orange is and what she can do.

Finn’s in deep- Wait how'd he get out here?????

Leia don’t distract your son while he’s fighting for his life!

SEE!!!!!!!

“I wanted to take your hand. Ben’s hand.” You think he’s going to leave you alone after that?

Why is Rey just a total mess in every movie.

Chewie mourning Leia is a good touch. It’s nice to see the reaction of someone who ACTUALLY knew her.  Whoa! They got Harrison Ford to come back! That must have taken a lot of bribery (or blackmail).

Has almost dying given Kylo/Ben the power to see non-Force user ghost, or is he just going nuts? So this is just a rehash of Han’s death scene. 

Aw, he called him Dad- Hey don’t throw that away, you need that!

He’s nuts. Those red helmets look stupid. Aaaaand it’s the Death Star again Merry in the background! Why’d they make Poe the General? Lando finally got off that planet 

“General.” “General.” She’s burning his ship. Good luck Kylo/Ben.

You know how hot that fire has got to be to burn metal “A Jedi weapon should be treated with more respect.” You brat.

Why did he have Leia’s lightsaber here? “...it would be picked up again, by someone who would finish her journey.” Oooookay, but why not just have her take Luke’s old Saber? It’s gotta be laying around here somewhere.

I know it’s symbolic and all that he’s raising the x-wing, but there’s no way that thing still works.

Alright, 3PO’s memories are back. Why’d we have to go through all that? I spy Merry again! How does Poe know all this stuff about Exogol? He’s just a fountain of information over here!

“Now we take the war to them!” That’s literally what you’ve done every movie ever No one is questioning how Lando got here. Isn’t this a secret base? *Dr. Evil voice* ONE MILLION STAR DESTROYERS 

Who even wrote this story line? Finn’s going with his gut and everyones just going along with it. Not like you could all die or anything. They brought the rug horses with them

How are they breathing in space!? Those red troopers still look stupid.

What’s this crowd chanting? Are they speaking Parseltoungue?  “I never wanted you dead.” That’s why I told Kylo Ren to kill you.

Hang on- his plan is ‘You be the empress, and I’ll just possess you. Grandaughter.’  EW. Why would she want that? How is that a tempting offer? Someone’s gone senile. Direct quote: “I got to go do something!” “I’m coming with you!” Why do these people get attached so quickly?! 

“Luke was saved by his father. The only family you have here is me.” Yeah, but I got a boyfriend who follows me everywhere!

Ben runs and jumps: “Ow.” We finally get to see the Knight’s of Ren in action! (Where have they been this whole time?) “Once you kill me I shall become apart of you!” So she could just, not kill him. Right? Oh yeah, here we go, now we got a showdown!

Well, that was anticlimactic 

WHAT IS HAPPENING Poe just realized he's the worst General ever.

YO. Don’t tell your troops there is no hope! What is wrong with you??? Why isn't Lando the General? He is a lot more qualified!!!

Wait a minute!! Where were all these people when LEIA ORGANA called for help????

Wedge Antilles!!!!!! So all the life force sucking was just so Palpatine could up grade his outfit? *Flings Ben into a pit* Palpatine is so done with the Skywalkers Hey, I know these voices!!!! Aaaaand now he wants to kill her. So whats our big moment? TWO lightsabers! 

Why did the make that the big epic moment? Why didn’t they have Ben run over and they do it together- It would have been perfect for his story arch! Rey: “And we” Together: “are all the Jedi!” Now she's dying. Why? Not even the writers know So Finn’s Force sensitive. Cool I guess? This is a really touching moment for them, even more so if they did anything other than fight this entire movie!

This kinda feels out of nowhere

I’M SO MAD RIGHT NOW

NOW SHE’S SMILING AND FINE. HE JUST DIED Merry’s here again and I can’t even be happy about it Now Finn has to chose between Rose and the new girl  Poe’s trying to start something with his Power Ranger old flame, and she's like “Not a chance.” Now everything’s all happy like BEN DIDN’T JUST DIE. ARE WE NOT GOING TO ADDRESS THIS?????????? Oh hey, it’s the Lars farm. Nobody else moved in after all these years? Now she's burying the Skywalker lightsabers in the place they all hated.

WHY IS BEN NOT HERE!!!!!!! HE WAS A MAIN CHARACTER FOR THESE MOVIES AND THEY DID HIM DIRTY!!!!!!

Well I guess they had to wrap this mess up somehow