#you will never want to leave as mich as you do when you’re a junior in high school

[tommmmmmmy-7]

I am the opposite of Jack Kelly right now-

GIMME OUT OF THE STUPID SMALL TOWN

[dumbdotcomm]

how to fall in love with your best friends

(a/n) i had this queued up in my old blog and totally didn’t repost it here so! here’s the commission i did for @fanfic-inator795‘s wonderful ocs!

Now if Mikey got to thinking about it hard he guess it all really started off like this: a nice beautiful morning- sun shining birds singing over the bustling clamor and the sweet caress of the wafting scent of oil and gasoline making him feel like everything was just right. It ought to have been- he’ll be with his friends soon, and they’ll all be extently laxed, a simultaneous, collective easygoingness to them that's undeniably the best part of working down at Hueso’s in the first place.

And sure things would get messy and, sure, it may not have been ideal for the back, a little hard on the muscles lugging trays out and garbage out and dealing with less than cooperative customers but it paid nice.

Yeah, Mikey thinks it all started there, really, if he got to thinking about it. At that little pizza joint and a water gun fight. 

And as he stood, ready to punch out of work and collect his red metal lunchbox from the side in the little cubby,  Michi pops up just in time, an eager grin creating little lines on her face. It catches Mikey a little off guard, though he should be used to her sneaking up on him by now. 

“Sorry! ” she says, slapping him hard on the shoulder (oh, and in the process she nearly knocks the life out of him and the little pointless badge with his name so nicely inscribed on that customers never actually read when they’d ask “um so what’s your name again, kid?” only to call him ‘waiter’ in five minutes). 

“You’re a ninja, shoulda- like- felt me coming in the wind or whatever it is you guys do,” Michi snorts, tugging Mikey along out the back door to Hueso’s. 

And Mikey doesn’t even stick around to see if someone had already stolen his lunch from inside his box- Frankie liked to do stupid stuff like that- and, with something a little less than dignity- because he totally should’ve sensed her coming, Mikey saunters out behind Michi as she excitedly pounds down the sidewalk and up the avenues.

“We do not ‘feel people sneakin’ up on us in the wind’,” he says around a chuckle, and lumbers up the creaky wooden steps to Junior’s apartment, kicking the compiling stack of mail to the side of the hall and smiles as they both round the corner to see Junior helping his neighbor into her apartment, lugging her bags in.

She’s blind and still thinks she can go grocery shopping; and she pinches Junior’s sweatshirt and calls his face hard when she tries to pinch his cheek.

“I’ll be right out guys,” Junior calls, before disappearing inside the apartment for just a couple minutes, “Just head inside, I’ll be there in a sec!”

It, of course, takes a bit longer than a second, which Mikey and Michi don’t complain about, but as the few minutes turn into close to twenty they almost wonder if they should go rescue their friend from his untimely demise of listening to ‘elderly stories’, Junior texts them.

Psst look out the window

And there he is, tossing a tiny rock up at his living room window from the street two stories below, with a floaty around his waist and swimming trunks and no shirt with a dopey grin flippers on his feet and oh my….this has to be some kind of joke. 

Michi barely suppresses what might just be a pure blend of a giggle, a snort and a groan- but it's funny nonetheless, and theatrical. Mikey stands at the window, grinning wildly down at his friend. 

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’re you doing man?”

“Oh Mikey…” Junior calls from the doorway, raising his arms high above his head in some glorious exaltation, “I’m embracing my adventurous side. You guys aren’t the only ones with crazy ideas.”

“Where are we even gonna go swimming.…” Michi shouts, folding her arms around a pillow as she goes into Junior’s kitchen to grab a bag of chips, “Plus, I don't own a bathing suit. My last one fit like when we were like fourteen.” 

And she turns around on her heels, sauntering casually back to the window, smirking slyly as she hears Junior scamper up to the front door of the apartment building, shouting her name in a breathless laugh. 

“Michi! Mich, c’mon guys! Jus’...just go with me, aight? I found a cool spot, I promise it’s legit.” 

And she didn't mean to make him desperate, really...but Michi could not understand why Junior had wanted to spend so much of his free time with her; it perplexed her almost as much as it amused her. Almost five years of friendship didn’t really change her self doubts. 

And somehow he's already bursting into the apartment, and Mikey’s doubled over laughing. Junior’s always been so ridiculously hopeful for her, his arms raised like a plea and a desperate smile, breathless and begging. 

“So…? What’cha guys think?”

Michi isn't all about doing things right, or the right thing at all. Sometimes she can be dumb and make bad calls. 

This, she figures, looking down at her toes that curl around the loose fringes of that rug, that this is no different. 

_____________________________________

They don’t know where they’re headed; there’s about a thousand ways to go now and Junior, feeling suddenly so spontaneous, didn’t think any of it through. 

And, somehow that’s more comforting than the thought of knowing as they race down 135 and 95, letting the breeze whip into the open windows, sending Michi’s hair into a whirl and Mikey sighs in tranquility. 

They finally come to a stop, the light up ahead transitioning from yellow to red.

Mikey looks over Junior’s way, eyes flickering between his softly closed eyes and the open road ahead of them. And it was something so kindred and so delicate- gazing at his gentle quiescence like that. It makes something like a reckless stillness, a certain way his heart flutters under the white cotton of his t-shirt and it makes Mikey want to do more- for Junior, for Michi. And he’s afraid to tell them, they deserve a whole lot more than what he can give.

The words won’t work, anyway, though. The moment passes, the light turns green and Junior makes a left on the ramp. 

The highway roars with the careless rumbles of motorcycles and endangerment like that; still, in spite of the anxiousness he feels,  it makes Mikey crack a smile, leaning back against his leather-torn seat, glancing over at Michi in the rearview mirror as she lifts her head from the window, staring a hole in him or something with her overbright eyes, turning them back, again, out to the highway.

“They really shouldn’t go so fast….” she says with a breathlike whisper that Mikey almost misses with all the noise; and she pops a sunflower seed into her mouth.

They stopped at a gas station somewhere along the lines between New York and Jersey, stashed the back seat with packs of sunflower seeds, coca cola, and hit the road again. Humans are kinda oblivious, or they’re just too desensitized that the surprise of a Kappa, a mutant turtle and a bone-skeleton guy undisguised is pretty much nonexistent. 

And it’s almost like they could just keep going if they wanted- and never stop.

“But…” Mikey stops and chuckles, resting his forehead on the back of Junior’s seat, and Michi who now takes up the passenger’s seat looks back at Mikey, with a cocky grin that’s always insightful like she’s pulling words out of him without a preamble to.

“But....” he stops again in thought, looking out into the highway, “I couldn’t leave my family…”

Michi thinks about it, her eyes never entirely leaving Mikey’s, and he catches her stare, clearing his throat in the most obnoxious cough. “And I...well, I don’t know if you guys knew this, but um...I’m actually makin’ a motorcycle’a my own!” he brags, voice strained in an awkward way that almost reminded him of Donnie. 

“Really…?” Junior queries with the corners of his lips curling up in slight disbelieving and taunting superiority, his brows rutting where they stay risen, “...you’re making...a motorcycle.” 

Mikey sputters, nodding profusely to that, “Psh..yeah. I am...an’ ya’ll really shouldn’t be actin’ all smug like that ‘cause ya know what?” he nudges Michi.

“What.” her face, unamused, tilts. 

“If I finish it….when I finish it-” he takes a happy breath, a deep sigh that dreams just about a thousand things- too much for his friends to ever know, he thinks, “-I’m gonna take you guys ‘cross the world with it.” It’s a vow that seems intended to be kept and unbroken by all odds. 

Even if Mikey knows it’s probably impossible. He’s got responsibilities here. A city both above and below ground to protect. A...destiny or something, to fulfill. 

And Michi doesn’t know to laugh or just sigh like she’s inclined to when things and concepts and promises and people don’t make sense at all; because why...why would he go...wasting time like that- on her.

“Motorcycles can’t go across the ocean, Orange Spice,” she says instead-

-and laughs raw and raspy, her laughs intertwining with her best friends.

_____________________________________

Cape May, New Jersey

Michi feels she’s spent a lifetime in Junior’s truck, all hot and sweaty and smelling like pickles. 

(“No...guys, look- look, look, see? Ya ain’t gotta eat the pickles- just smear ‘em right on the sandwich- there ya go-!” Junior tossed his head back as Mikey dropped the pickle, slipping right out of his hands as he rubbed it over his sandwich with a frustrated growl. It was completely pointless and pickles were absolutely gross by taste and texture-

-but it wound up being, he won’t ever admit, the best sandwich he ever made.)

And they pulled up on a beach- a beach they didn’t know. In the middle of the night.

They threw a blanket and sat.

Just sat. 

Junior watches, though, as Michi looks out into the ocean, the bright moon- bright and golden yellow- it's light engulfing her almost, it seems. And she keeps watching the waves’ recessions and their ebbing, with a hollowness again. 

Still, there was something mesmerizing about her empty stare, a far off glance into a distant unknown and he wanted- Junior just wants to get any piece of that...understanding. 

“It's beautiful…” Michi says, her voice as broken and shattered as glass left to reflect the grand luminescent rays of something magnificent. She always sounds so joyful, but Junior’s known her long enough to know there’s a hurt buried deep in there. 

It catches him, and a particular ineptitude of speech gets a hold of him, too; he can only blink a few times, ogle a little at her face, too awkward still to say anything.  

Mikey’s unloading the truck, juggling fifty things and making Junior laugh softly at it. 

Still, Michi watches the water. “The waves- it’s they're...in a prison. It’s like every time they come in closer, they get pulled back further, a-and...and then, well’um…” in an instant her voice trails and her eyes glaze over to somewhere else. 

Junior just watches them go. He knows her attachment to water. They’ll stay here as long as she needs. 

And they just sit for a moment. So unique in this quietude that he almost feels half of himself. Smaller and more shy. 

He's about to...to pull her up and drag her into the water and forget this because he wants to give her so much more than hurt and watching her sit and think of the water, and probably, with that, her parents- both Junior and Mikey know it’s her own kind of hurt. 

But Michi’s breath hitches and the eyes fall back to here, back down to something less painful in so many odd ways. 

And Michi releases herself, in the most apportioned way that she gives, her eyes flickering for a moment to Junior, and back down to the cool sand, the quilted blanket, and beach toys with the loose, fringed strings of it.

_____________________________________

“I...hate to be a bother….” Mikey says in a posh, pretentious accent, tottering on the rocks and shells, the shirt he wears drying in the blowing breeze.

Out here, they've found a grove, or a cave far off and secluded, dark and damp and glistening with a thing with a semblance of enigmas. 

She slips back and catches herself, finding footing below and, also, finding his quizzically amused stare. 

“Junior, how are we...when are we getting back?” he asks, eyes lost on the walls of the cave, his fingers lightly grazing them.

Michi snaps her head over to him when there's no noise- none of his muttered curses under his breath or the dumb laugh- Junior just sits, studying the array of seashells they've found and the compiled piles of sand, pressing his knuckles to his lips. 

“Uh, never.” he quips back without lifting his pondering stare at the assortment. 

Michi scoffs, her shoulders dropping, “Skull-cap...” 

I’m thinking of...somethin’...somethin’, somethin’ somethin’,” he starts a melody, mostly in his head probably; Michi doesn’t think it fits to a tune just right, but Mikey joins in on it too, and she just starts laughing.

_____________________________________

It’s the worst best idea ever to be thought of and maybe, perhaps- it makes them all forget their worries for a little bit.

They learn to surf. Try to surf. Fail at surfing. 

Mikey winds up falling over and pulling a joint. 

“Oh...man- I’m definitely not gettin’ up for weeks after all this,” he exclaims through a pained laugh, as they walk side by side, gas station, cotton candy between them. Junior and Michi supporting most of his weight.

They have enough seashells to fill three bags, and six stuffed animals Michi nabbed from a boardwalk game.

_____________________________________

The rising sun cascades as reddish hue over the sand, making them shine in a dull kind of light that they lay on, looking up at the flying kites and the puffing clouds with pleasant simpers- the kind that mean, yeah, okay, I’m happy with this and even now, after all of it (after making sandwiches and sandcastles and surfing and getting lost in a cave looking for exotic shells and the longest drive and everything) they still can’t make sense of it, of the feeling. 

And Mikey tells Michi, with just how open they are now, he figures it is as good as any time to- that she should leave it, leave her hurt here and forget it. 

Forget and start...somewhere else. 

“With us!” he petitions, turning his head in the sand over to her, the grains stuck in her hair, long out of the bun she twisted into place earlier. “You...you could come and...an’ stay or...or, Michi I dunno but’cha gotta get out sometime soon…”

His words break like the desperation his face carries; the silence falls over them again and Michi watches one of those pointless blimps fly overhead, ready for another day at the beach, her eyes empty shimmer in the rising sun. 

“I know….” she starts in a deep breath, “Mikey, I know you...you and your brothers- they...you guys do so much. And you save, you’re...you saved a whole ton of people but…” she turns her eyes into his, and he sees every nightmare through hers, through her eyes, “You can’t save everyone. I think...I think you know that.” she says.

So why do you keep trying with me? she doesn’t. 

But Mikey grabs her hand and she can tell when his heart flutters and his face flushes without at all having to spare him her eyes. And, now, she gets it.

“‘S ‘cause...well, I dunno…” he smiles sheepishly. 

“Yes...you do,” Michi offers one back, wishing Junior would wake up already and tell them it’s time to go, “But you shouldn’t.”

And they drop the mystery for now and all the unconventionally odd and terribly obscure feelings that went in tow, Michi breaking off a chunk of Junior’s unfinished and kinda stale cotton candy she snagged, sliding it into her mouth while they look up at the blimps and clouds and setting sun.

“Ya gonna pay for that?” Junior asks, standing over his two friends, his smile brighter and just as beautiful as the sun. 

“Nah, I’m good, Bone-boy,” she says, staring still at the morning sky, spawning a laugh, genuine and, all the very same, brittle. 

_____________________________________

In about ten days she gets a bill of two dollars in her mailbox and a seashell necklace, her best friend’s initials carved into a shell. 

[mskinkyafro]

Until Then (RoD x OH Crossover)

A/N: I’ve been wanting to make a crossover fic for some time now and I’m excited to have written, planned, and created such backgrounds to interweave the two MC’s and their books together. This originally was only going to be a simple one-shot but over the last week and a half I spent writing, I’ve been inspired to make spin-off/continuation fics centered around these two MCs. I fell in love with their dynamics and I have to explore them more. Big thanks and shoutout to @jakemckenziesprincess for basically being my beta and making this a better, more concise, and great fic. 

Summary: Aunt and niece, Dr. Katrina Michaels and Chelsea Michaels reunite after years and find themselves bonding over the struggles and pain of forbidden romances.

Side Note: This fic takes place after the finales of both RoD and OH 1, and prior to beginning of OH. 

Implied Pairings: Logan x MC & Ethan x MC

A soft breeze rustles Chelsea Michaels’ brown, curly tresses, slowly pulling her out of her thoughts. She gazes out at the sight of a tranquil lake that typically is filled  with people on a summer day, but today she finds herself alone sitting on the hood of her car. She thinks of how she left the dual lives she was leading behind and now embarking on a whole new adventure. Although adjusting to life in Connecticut and proud of how far she’s grown in the last few months, a part of her lingers elsewhere. 

The sound of whimsical chiming interrupts her time of reflection and she looks down at her cell phone. She swipes on the screen and smiles as the image of a middle-aged man with dark brown skin and kind eyes just like hers appears.

“Hi, Dad!”

“Hi, Sweetheart!”

His eyes look tired, yet there’s still a smile that graces his face as he sees his daughter. Through the time she’s been gone, he’s evaluated his parenting and is learning from the mistakes. There’s still things he’d wouldn’t change but overall, he wished it all went differently. But he can’t change the past nor the pain his little girl went through. He can only be better moving forward.

“How’s the east coast treating you, Chels?

“It's been an adjustment, but good so far! The honor’s summer engineer program is amazing! It’s so much excitement, I’m still processing it all. I mean I can’t believe it’s already been a month since I left.”

“I can,” he interjects with a sad smile.

Chelsea pauses speaking and runs her hand through her hair as she looks away from her father’s  misty eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know things between us are slowly...well you know--and you’re an adult now. But what can I say? I’m still struggling to see my baby girl all grown up.”

“Oh, Dad. I know...I know things were hard. I didn’t make it easier and I know we have a long way to go but we’ll get there. Besides, I may be getting the hang of this new routine but...well I mean it’s--”

He watches his daughter stutter and can see the lack of spunk she usually has. He cuts her off.

“Something’s off though, isn’t it?”

“How’d you know?”

“You forget. I’m your dad. I know when something is bothering you.”

She cracks a light laugh.

“I guess some things don’t change.”

“Me knowing what upsets my baby girl? Not a chance. So is it making friends? Because your old man had trouble meeting others when I first went to school.”

“No, my roommates are cool. And the other students in the program are nice. I really can’t explain it...it’s just I miss-- well I just...” she trails off and looks down at her phone screen. Her hazel eyes connected with her father’s and at that moment he knew what was upsetting her.

“I see.” he murmurs. His tone was a little rougher than he anticipated.

Chelsea briskly turns away from the screen and clears her throat. Her voice is tight.

“Thanks for checking in Dad. I’ll text you later. Love you. Bye.”

Chelsea ends the call before he can say anything else. He sighs to himself and rubs his hand over his face, frustrated. It was moments like this that he wished Nia was alive. Every day he missed his wife and although he managed to raise Chelsea through a challenging time, a girl still needs her mother. Not happy with how things were left he decided to call his sister. At times he didn’t know what to do, and when those times came, he would call his sister. Without any hesitation, he scrolled through his recent call list until his finger hovered over her name and pressed down on the screen. The dial tone rang three times before he heard a familiar, tired voice say,

“Dr. Michaels speaking.”

“I get it, you went to medical school so you’re the favorite between Mama and Pops,” he says with feign annoyance.

“Keenan, I’ll have you know I’ve been Mama and Daddy’s favorite without even having to become a doctor, thank you very much.”

“Sure, Kat. Keep telling yourself that.”

“Oh, I will. So what do I owe the pleasure of this call? It's been a minute since you’ve called. All I got was measly texts here and there.” Katrina says.

“You could’ve called me if you were missing my voice, Kat.”

“You know how busy I am, saving lives and all. You know, no biggie.”

Keenan scoffs and retorts.

“And me being a decorated detective in L.A. leaves me with an ample amount of time?”

“Who’s bragging about accomplishments now?” she teases.

“You know what? You ain’t no good.”

They two siblings laugh together, drowning out the other by their bellows of chuckles.

“But in all seriousness, are things okay? Is my niece okay? I’m sorry again I couldn’t make it to her graduation. I didn’t go into detail at the moment because of how stressed I was on my end, but I…almost lost my medical license.”

Keenan fumbles with his phone at the news before returning to his ear.

“Woah! Hold up?! What?!”

“Calm down, Keenan. The keyword is almost.”

“Kat, when I used to say ‘don’t kill anyone’, I was just teasing but now I’m starting to think I should’ve been serious.”

“Ha-Ha very funny. It's a long story but in the end, I won my case. Also, I got a promotion.”

“Well, that’s a complete 180. What a first year, I’m glad to hear you worked it out. And congratulations sis! I’m proud of you. So, Ms. Big-Shot what’s your new position?”

Katrina clears her throat before she mumbles.

“I, erm, got a spot as Junior fellow on the Diagnostic team. You know, the team that the Dr. Ramsey--”

“The team Dr. Ramsey is a part of. I know of it well. You forget how much you used to go on and on about how great this Ethan Ramsey was throughout your time in med school. You lived up to the annoying little sister in those moments more than when we were kids and you used to follow me around trying to measure my vitamin intake.”

“I was that bad, was I?”

“You were. But forget that, you’re working with your idol. Are you excited?”

“Well...having him as a mentor and other things has been quite the um-- experience. I can only imagine working with him on a new scale will be just as interesting.”

Keenan noticed a hesitation but didn’t press it.

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

“And to answer your previous questions, Chelsea’s doing great. She’s settled in Connecticut. In a town called Manchester, not too far from you I believe. And if I’m honest the last few months between me and her haven’t been the best. They were the worst.”

“What the hell? You two are like peas in a pod. What happened?”

Kennan sighs, “I rather let Chelsea tell you the details. It's mainly her story to tell. Speaking of, she’s why I called. I was hoping you can invite her up to visit you in Boston for a few weeks. I know her program is having a month-long break and from our last conversation,  I think she could use some woman to woman time.”

“Of course. Anything for my niece. Does she need a lift? Manchester is about two hours and with my student debt, a car is not a luxury I’ve invested in but one of my friends has--”

“Chelsea has one.”

“What?! No way. You finally taught that girl to drive? Much less bought her a car?!

Katrina couldn’t hide the disbelief in her voice. She knew after the passing of her sister in law her brother struggled with letting Chelsea onto the busy roads.

“You know after all that happened, I was worried that you might never--”

Keenan interrupts her again.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Oh? From a friend then?”

Katrina hears her brother suck in the air.

“You could say that.”

She doesn’t mention the way he sounded as he answered her.

“Well, in that case, tell her that I’d love for her to come visit. My roommates and I have an extra room she can stay in too. Tell her to meet me at Edenbrook in a few days whenever she gets her things together for a stay.”

“Thanks, Katrina. I think her spending time with you will help.”

“Her and me both.”

The two stay on the phone for a few more minutes before ending the call.

Before long a week passes and Chelsea finds herself five minutes away from one of Boston’s greatest hospitals, Edenbrook. She hadn’t seen her aunt in so long. Her being in medical school in the past years had cut down the amount of time she could visit. Chelsea parked her car in the visitor's parking lot and got out. Once out of the car, she brushes lint off her dark wash denim jeans, adjusts her red tube top and ties the laces on her white converse. As she pulls her hair up into a messy bun she looks in her sideview mirror. Approving what she sees she heads to the entrance of the hospital.

Once inside she’s taken aback by how large and modern the hospital is. After taking it all in she looks around the semi-quiet place in search of someone to help her find her aunt. And as if someone was reading her mind, an older man with a friendly smile noticed her uncertain expression and approached her.

“Do you need help, miss?”

Chelsea smiles gratefully.“Hi! I do. I’m here to see my aunt--”

“Oh is she a patient? If you go to the front desk a few feet in front of us--”

“Oh no. She’s a doctor here. Do you know her? Her name is Katrina Mich--”

“Ahh! Dr. Michaels! Of course, I do my dear. I’d be a terrible man if I didn’t remember the woman who saved my life. She’s made quite the name for herself here at Edenbrook.”

Chelsea was surprised to hear such news from this man but it made her happy nonetheless.

“Wow! I had no idea. It's been a while since I’ve seen her but I’m supposed to meet her right now.”

The man extends his hand and introduces himself.

“First, my dear. Hello, I’m Dr. Banerji.”

“Chelsea. Chelsea Michaels. Nice to meet you, doctor.” she says as she shakes his hand.

“Now that I have a better look at you, I can see the resemblance.”

“I get that from time to time. So, did you have any idea where she could be?”

“Well it's 6:00 pm now and her shift ended a little earlier so she’s probably at Donahues. It's that little Pub across the way.”

“Thanks!”

“My pleasure.”

Chelsea waves at the kind doctor as she walks back outside. As she walks closer to the bar, a man calls out, stopping her in her tracks.

“Hey there, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing all by herself?” he asks, his speech slurred.

Chelsea crinkles her nose in disgust and ignores the intoxicated man as she keeps walking forward. As she reaches for the handle to open the door, the man puts his hand on top of hers, and inches forward. The alcohol on his breath assaults her nose as he continues to speak.

“Hey, don’t be so cold. I’m just trying to get to know you.”

“Well, I don’t want to.”

Chelsea yanks her hand free and takes a few steps back to distance herself from the man.

“Come on, a beautiful girl like--”

“Exactly, A girl. I’m eighteen, creep.”

“Last time I checked, eighteen is legal, sweetie.” he attempts to reach out to grab Chelseas’s arm but is interrupted by a gruff voice.

“Is there a problem here?”

Chelsea turns around and behind her is a tall man in a gray sweater, possibly in his thirties, with piercing blue eyes and a stern expression on his face as he stares down the other man.

“Nope. Just having a friendly conversation.” the man replied, his speech slurred even more than before.

“Why don’t you stop making an ass of yourself and leave this young woman alone who is not interested in partaking in any conversation with you.” the man says as he takes a commanding step towards the drunk.

The drunk man steps away from Chelsea and begins to walk off, muttering under his breath. Once he’s a distance away from the pub, Chelsea turns to the stranger.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to get involved. If he got any closer, he would’ve ended up across the street. ” she says as she lifts her balled fist.

The man’s eyebrow lifted slightly, an amusement flash from his eyes as soon as it was there.

“That’s exactly why I intervened. We don’t need any more PITA patients. ”

“Pita? Erm, never mind, so you’re a doctor at Edenbrook?”

“ Yes. And you should run along. You’re a bit young, aren’t you Bambi?”

“Bambi?”

Right as she was going to question the man, he started to head inside, ignoring her confusion.

Inside, it's decently filled with  patrons but not overly crowded. The biggest gathering is a group of doctors sitting in the center talking and sipping their drinks casually.

As they stand by the entrance, Chelsea squints as she searches through the dim-lighted space. The man was beginning to question her but she spoke before he could get a word out.

“I’m here to find my aunt. I was told she’d be in here and I was supposed to meet her right now.”

She walks forward toward the group, with the stranger lingering behind.

“Who is your aunt--”

He’s cut off by Chelsea’s excited squeal.

“Auntie Kitty!”

Katrina startled by the almost forgotten name, looks up and smiles widely and gets up quickly from the table as her eyes land on her teenage niece.

“Seashell! How are you? Is it six already? I hope you had no trouble finding me.”

She says excitedly as she pulls her into a big hug.

“I’m great! And it’s no biggie, auntie. I got here in one piece. There was a slight hiccup outside this place, but I had it handle--”

“You called that handled, Bambi?”

Chelsea breaks away from Katrina and turns around to gesture to the man behind her who is hidden from Katrina’s view.

“I did. But your assistance was appreciated, Mr...I didn’t get your name.”

Before he could answer, Katrina speaks as she moves closer to the two.

“Dr. Ramsey.”

“Rookie.”

His eyes bore into Katrina’s and the two stare at each other for a while, almost for too long. As Chelsea stood between the two, she noticed a spark between her aunt and Dr. Ramsey. It was so visible she felt as if she was intruding on something intimate, something only for the two of them. She clears her throat, bringing the two back into reality.

“I didn’t realize you two knew each other,” Chelsea says, her eyebrow quirked at the two.

“Rookie here has been a colossal pain in my ass this past year.”

Chelsea could hear the touch of fondness in his voice despite the words he used.

“What happened to being Edenbrook’s brightest, Ethan?”

He rolls his eyes and barely hides a smile. He turns to Chelsea.

“Please tell me big egos don’t run in your family, Bambi or is it strictly exclusive to her.”

“Wait--Bambi? How’d you give my niece a nickname already?”

He shrugs as a man in a wheelchair rolls up toward the three. He faces Chelsea and extends his hand out. Ethan takes this time to excuse himself from the two women.

“Bambi, Rookie.”

Katrina watches him retreat to the bar as Elijah introduces himself to Chelsea, waving the others to come do the same.

“Hey, I’m Elijah Greene. One of your aunt’s roommates, best friends, co-workers, and partners in crime. You know, the entire package.”

“Chelsea Michaels. You all, partners in crime?” she asks with a laugh.

“Oh, Elijah is just exaggerating. I’m Sienna Trinh, nice to meet you.”

A petite Asian woman steps up next to greet Chelsea. Soon, a Black woman, a Polynesian man, an Indian woman, and a Porteguese man follow suit. Kat points at each one and introduces everyone to her niece.

“Aurora Emery.”

“Bryce Lahela”

“Jackie Varma.”

“Rafael Aveiro”

Jackie then turns to Sienna and says, “Elijah has a point. I mean we’ve done some questionably legal things.” Her eyes land on Katrina.

Brye chimes in, “Are you a criminal mastermind like Hotshot over here, Chelsea?”

Chelsea rubs her arms shyly. She stammers a bit before Rafael interjects.

“I wouldn't be surprised if she was.”

“Enough teasing, you two,” Katrina says.

The group laughs as Katrina’s eyes her niece skeptical as she notices her sudden quiet and skittish behavior. Looking her over she finally notices the colorful pattern of pink flowers surrounded by tendrils of blues on Chelsea’s right arm. Staring the teen down, Kat’s voice interrupts all of the side conversations.

“What the hell is on your arm, Chelsea?! Don’t tell me what I think that is!”

Immediately the rest of the friends look toward her arm and look back towards Katrina. Curious to see her in such a parental role.

“In that case, it’s definitely not a tattoo.” Jackie murmurs sarcastically.

“Not helping, Jackie.” Sienna says as she elbows the woman.

Chelsea nervously looks at her tattoo and rubs it absentmindedly.

“So, this is one of the new things that’s happening with me.”

“It has to be fake. One of those semi-permanent tattoos that last a month, right?” her aunt asks insistently.

Her niece avoids eye contact and looks to one of the others, hoping to get a little help.

Elijah chimes in, “You know, I think it looks really badass. Not everyone can rock a whole sleeve tat.”

Katrina glares at the man and he raises his hands in mock defeat. Before she can lay more into her niece Aurora speaks up.

“I was pegging you as a goody-two shoes like your aunt here. You both have the miss congeniality vibe but clearly there’s more to you.”

“I don’t mean to pry but we heard something about this past year has been crazy for you, but I’m thinking that it's crazier than imagined.” Rafael says.

Chelsea shrugs her shoulders and grabs a nearby chair to sit in.

“That’s one way of putting it. This tattoo is nothing compared to the other things that happened. I can’t talk about much because well-- to answer your question, they for sure dance on the line of legality.”

Katrina crosses her arms over her chest.

“Oh boy, how illegal are we talking?.”

Everyone shuffles a little closer to Chelsea, wondering what’s about to come out of her mouth. 

She coughs out “Like...I don’t know, I may have been a part of a crew that may have stolen approximately in total ten million dollars worth of cars.”

There was silence before everyone started talking over the other, however not much longer Katrina’s voice overwhelmed the others.

“What the fuck?! You did, what?!”

Chelsea leans forward and points her finger at her aunt.

“Allegedly.”

“Allegedly my ass! How did you…” her aunt tried to ask but Bryce cut in.

“Woah! Okay so that’s some next level, Fast & the Furious shit. The lives of teenagers nowadays. When I was in high school, the craziest experience was on prom night.”

“Prom. Now that was quite the time. I can tell you must have had some wild ones, Meathead.” Jackie teases.

The others get caught up in reminiscing about their prom days that it gave the two Michaels women time to chat briefly.

“Okay, so now that I’ve digested all of this. All I can say is wow. I’m going to need details later on though.”

“So how mad are you?”

“I’m not mad, I’m concerned. Plus, I can’t have you be the one to freak your dad out,, that’s my job.” she jokes.

The two chuckle and are back to the main conversation when Sienna asks.

“What about you, Katrina? How was your prom? I bet you were Queen.”

“Is it that obvious? I was, but it wasn’t a glorious reign. After the crowning, during the royal first dance, the King got too handsy so I stepped on his foot and caused him to crash into the snack table which split hawaiian punch all over the DJ booth.”

Everyone laughs and Kat’s retelling and Elijah then asks Chelsea,

“So how was your prom, Chelsea? Was it more on the normal side? Handsome date, tux, corsage  the usual set up.”

Hearing Elijah’s question sends flashes to Chelsea’s head of that night with Logan. How surprised she was to see him at Riya’s door. From the magical way it was being so intimate with him to the dangers that were awaiting them after. She shakes her head and gives a simple answer.

“It was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Her aunt raises an eyebrow at her niece but the expression is lost due the growls that roared over the conversation. With a blush on her cheeks, Chelsea speaks.

“I guess it’s time for dinner.”

“My stomach seemed to agree as well.”

Katrina holds out her arm and Chelsea gets up from her chair, links her own arm into Kat’s and  smiles at her.

“McDermots?”

“You know me so well.”

The two say their goodbyes to everyone as they made their exit, Chelsea looked back to make sure Katrina followed and she caught once again her aunt exchanging heated glances with Ethan. She noted to herself to ask more about the two.

“Auntie Kitty, you good?”

With a nod, the Michaels women left Donahues and headed toward Chelsea’s car.

As they approached the bright neon pink 2015 Stuttgart 999 Widow, Katrina’s gait slowed down.

“You’re kidding? This is your car?! There’s no way my brother cosigned on this baby, even though she’s gorgeous.”

She slowly rubs her hand over the hood of the car.

“He didn’t. It was a gift from a friend.” Chelsea says quickly as she unlocks the doors and gets into the driver’s seat and starts the ignition.

The hum of the engine shook Katrina from her inspections and she entered the passenger seat, failing to keep her shock off her face. As Chelsea pulls out of the parking lot and cruises down the road, Katrina’s eyes lock on a picture strip that hangs on the visor. In it, she saw different poses of the same couple. Chelsea and some young man with chocolate brown skin, dark hair with a matching beard. In each photo, the two were pressed together smiling or laughing and in the last still, the two had their foreheads pressed against the other as their lips were inches apart.

“Who’s that?”

Chelsea looks up to what her aunt points at and mentally curses for not hiding the photo.

“He’s...he’s no one.”

Concerned at a cold response, she pressed further.

“I doubt it. He looks like someone important. And you look important to him too,”

Chelsea presses on the gas pedal and Katrina holds her door handle as the car begins to accelerate faster and faster.

“ Looked. E-d as in past tense. Either way, it doesn’t matter.” she replied sharply.

“One, watch the attitude and two, slow down. And clearly, it does.” Katrina chides.

With her patience running thin and out of frustration, Chelsea veers off to park in an empty spot on the side of the road with a harsh brake. The two jolt forward and then back into their seats.

“Drop it!” She squeezes the steering wheel tightly, ignoring the crazy look her aunt was giving her. In a small voice, she continues.

“...Please.”

A tense silence fills the air as they sit momentarily. After a few minutes, she pulls back into traffic and sighs.

“It all started with my clumsiness and not watching where I was going.”

An hour passed as the two found themselves out on the balcony of Katrina’s apartment looking over the city. Katrina sips slowly on a glass of wine as she leans onto the rail next to her niece. The lights below them dazzle into the night. Chelsea breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Now I forget you’re grown up now so I really can’t pull the ‘I’m the adult’ card but just don’t get used to raising your voice at me.”

“Of course, but--”

Katrina waves her hand dismissively.

“I shouldn’t have pushed too far. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

Chelsea shoots her small smile and she shakes her head in disagreement.

“I appreciate it, but it still isn’t an excuse for me to lash out.”

She then pulls her scrunchie out her bun and runs her fingers through her curls as she continues.

“Talking about Logan, just thinking about him at times is hard. Many would brush it off as a whirlwind romance or young stupid love, but I know they’re wrong. Deep down-- deep down what we had is real. Well, it was.”

She wanders from the railing and sits down, her back against the windowpane.

“I know I have my whole future to look to. I know there will be other guys but then again I don’t want there to be anyone else. And I don’t want my future to not have Logan in it. What can I say? I love him. I love him so much.” she admits, her eyes glisten at the weight being lifted off her heart.

Katrina sets down her glass as she crouches closer to her niece and holds her close, rubbing soothing circles on her back. A quiet cry flows out as she sits in the arms of Katrina. She whispers into the crying teen’s ear.

“It’s okay. Love is beautiful and at times, a painful thing. Especially when it’s your first love. I know it seems like--”

Through sobs, Chelsea chokes out.

“That’s the issue though! This wasn’t some typical boy meets girl. This was special! Right now he’s out there-- somewhere and I’m missing him so much, wondering if he’s safe. Secretly hoping he didn’ forget me. This hollowness that’s settled is suffocating me. I feel so incomplete. In my mind, only one person can make me whole again. No one seems to understand that. Do you know what it’s like to want someone so bad but can’t be with them? Because if you can’t then I don’t want to hear some patronizing--”

Katrina lets go of her niece so that she’s looking directly in her eyes. As she cuts her off.

“You’re not the only one.”

Chelsea wipes her eyes as her aunt turns away to look out to the city skylight.

“You feel like you’ll drown under these intense emotions. No matter how hard you try, every thought leads back to him. When the wind lightly caresses your skin, you remember the way he’d kiss you softly. And it takes everything in your power not to run to them, risk it all just to have their love even though everything points to why you can’t be together. So yes, I know exactly how you feel.”

She turns back to find Chelsea’s eyes glue onto her.

“It’s him, isn’t it. Dr. Ramsey.” Chelsea whimpers.

Her aunt scoots closer to the teen and rests her head on top of hers.

“Yeah. Ethan and I...well it’s complicated.”

“I could tell. You both stop when around the other, you forget anyone else is even near.”

“I never thought the man I looked up to would become my colleague, much less someone I’d care so deeply for.”

Chelsea traces small patterns on her jeans as she asks.

“Are you sure you two can’t work something out?

“At the moment, no. There are too many variables. Politics of the hospital, gossip, my reputation, the list goes on.” she sighs.

“So there’s two Michaels women shit out of luck in the romance department?”

“Misery loves company. You see, we’re victims of circumstances and fate’s misfortune. We were dealt a shitty hand and this part of life folded.”

The two sit in small silence, letting the hums of street life surround them. Not too long Chelsea speaks.

“Will it ever get better? How do we cope?”

Katrina reaches to grasp her niece’s hand and squeezes.

“ With time, it will. To cope is another battle within itself. I think for that, we have to do something slightly dangerous.”

Chelsea lifts her head, forcing Katrina to lift her own and look down at the teen.

“What’s that?”

“Hope. Hope that one day that our loves still have a chance. To believe that in time, they’ll come back to us.”

Chelsea takes in what her aunt says and with no hesitation latches herself onto the older woman, hugging her tight.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you. It's nice to have someone who understands.”

“It is.”

The two sat there in their embrace, filled with a new kindle of optimism that only lingered before.

Tagged: @silverlitskies​

End Note: If anyone else reads this and enjoys and like to be tagged in any future crossover fics, just let me know!

[crashdevlin]

Bottle- 9: Rising Up

Bottle Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version), I work in info from the comics (Like Hawkeye was married to Mockingbird and Red Skull had a disappointing daughter) and I took a few liberties with what the scepter could do (but not really because the Mind Stone was used to create the Twins so what I did is not that far-fetched). This is a lot more angst than I realized when I wrote it, but it’s compelling angst.

Summary: Cassandra Campbell is a Stark Industries lab tech with dubious genetics and a history with the new Director of SHIELD. She’s been working in New York since right before the Chitauri invasion. What does she have to do with Loki, and what will happen when he returns? Starts post TDW and continues to the end of AoU.

Pairing(s): Phil Coulson x OFC (Past), Loki x OFC (Non-con), Clint Barton x OFC, Steve Rogers x OFC

Word Count: 1572

Story Warnings: So many, worst (to me) are bolded. Younger woman/older man relationship,non-con, mutilation, torture, mind control, PTSD, depression, alcoholism, forced abortions, bad things (non-con) in a church, insomnia, memory manipulation, eventual consensual oral sex (female and male receiving),

Chapter Warnings: Bad Google Translate German!, 

Cassie rode the elevator down to level 69 and walked up to her door. She stood for several minutes, staring at the handle. "Would you like for me to open the door to your apartment, Miss Campbell?" Jarvis asked over an invisible speaker.

She took a deep breath, steadying her breathing like Clint had been preaching at her several hours before. "Yes, please, Jarvis. Thank you."

The door flung open, forcing her to move her feet forward and into the apartment. She took a moment to thoroughly check every room, closet and dark corner for signs of Loki, before sitting down on the couch and bendy down to take off her boots. She looked around. "I think I can do this." She laid back on the couch and closed her eyes. "No fighting my destiny. I can do this."

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

"Wake up, Queenie," a soft voice whispered.

Cassie woke, peacefully opening her eyes. "What time is it?" she asked, sitting up and stretching her arms out above her head.

Clint smiled at her from his spot, sitting directly in front of her on her coffee table. "0600. I woulda let you sleep longer, but Jarvis swears you were in REM by 8 last night." He handed her a brown paper bag with savory smells that made her mouth water. "Breakfast burrito."

She tore into the bag, hunger hitting her hard. As she bit into the burrito, he cleared his throat. "So, I called Fury. You field-stripped your gun a little too well, ya know? So, apparently, 10 year old Junior was gonna be a soldier, whether her genetics said 'Super' or not. Fury said they washed it away. Made you forget."

"'at eshains it." She took a moment to swallow her burrito before clearing her throat. "That explains why I could do so much of this Ops shit as Joanna. I have access to different parts of myself as her. I remember my time in Der Spielplatz when I'm her. I don't, really, when I'm me. So, what, as you're training me, this Hydra training might bleed through?"

"I don't think it will be a big deal. I don't think you'll end up shouting 'Hail Hydra' just because I teach you how to shoot a gun, but we might want to keep it on the down low that Fury might've accidentally turned you into a sleeper agent." Cassie glared, playfully, crumbling up the paper bag and tossing it at Clint's face. He ducked. "Wow, good aim."

She smiled and stood up. Clint followed. "So, what? Back up to the training room to breathe some more?"

Clint nodded. "I was thinking some hand-to-hand training today. See how much you remember from your tiny commando training days."

"Es ist wie fahrrad fahren können. Ja? [It’s like riding a bike. Yes?]"

"Wir werden sehen [We’ll see]," Clint said, walking toward her door. Cassie liked the thick thud of his boots on her hardwood floors. There was a safety in the sound. She grabbed a pair of gloves from a drawer where she'd placed them months before and followed Clint out.

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

Three hours later, Cassie was sitting at a table in a conference room on one of the lower levels, waiting for Clint to come back. When Clint walked back in, he was followed by Maria Hill and Natasha Romanoff. "I'm telling you... she's good to go on this mission."

"And I'm telling you, there's no possible way," Maria said, pulling out her chair and sitting across from Cassie.

"Not after only two training sessions," Romanoff chipped in.

"Hydra had plenty of time with me," Cassie said. Clint shook his head, disappointed. "Clint thinks I shouldn't tell anybody. Some kinda sleeper agent thing. Whatever. Hydra taught me how to fight. Started on me with it when I was very young. By the time SHIELD got to me, I was well-trained. Enough that Fury wiped it from my mind once he got me to the Fridge. I guess being Joanna jostled it out of my memory. Training with Clint brought it back the rest of the way."

"And you want us to take you out to a Hydra base? How do we know that you haven't been activated and you want to go with us to sabotage us?" Natasha asked.

"Ich bin nicht dumm, Romanoff [I’m not dumb, Romanoff]. And I have, since I was Joanna, put a handsome ex-SHIELD agent in his place when he tried to take me back to Hydra. I could have gone with him. If I were a whore or a spy, I would have. I am not stupid. I am not Hydra. If I were, why would I tell you how I learned? I could have lied."

"Should've lied." Clint provided.

"Could've said I learned while I was with Loki, but I told the truth because I didn't want to lie to you guys. You're supposed to be my teammates."

Maria looked at Natasha and gave an exaggerated shrug before she sighed. "I trust Clint's judgment on this. He is the one who watched her for two years. If he says she's fit for the field and... isn't a double agent, that's good enough for me."

"But he was watching her because Fury thought she might be using Coulson to gain information for enemy forces."

"Like you and all the rest of SHIELD were doing?" Cassie snapped.

"Hey!" the three SHIELD agents looking at her whined in unison.

"No. You don't get to do that. See, Phil told me stuff. Stuff I wasn't supposed to know. I did nothing with that. You and the rest of SHIELD spent seventy-five years gathering information for Hydra. You and the rest of SHIELD were Hydra. I never left them. I could have turned out to be one of them, but I turned out to be a good person. Even my dark side has a respect of human life. I am a good woman. I am the only person in this room who has never killed anyone. Let me do this. Lassen sie mich diese arbeit zu tun. Lassen sie mich ein Avenger sein. [Let me do this job. Let me be an Avenger]."

"You know you go into German when you're frustrated?" Maria asked, amused.

"It's all I spoke for two months! And ten years." She sighed. "I have to do this. I have to have a purpose. I need this as my purpose. Let me be an Avenger."  

"I don't think Natasha is saying that you shouldn't be an Avenger, I think she wants to make sure-" Clint started, but Cassie cut him off.

"Don't speak for her, Clint. She doesn't want me to go. She doesn't want me on the team. She thinks I'm trying to string you along, come between the team by wriggling into you and Steve's hearts. She called me a cocktease. That's what Natasha Romanoff thinks of me. That's how she judges me," Cassie said, her eyes never leaving Romanoff.

"I won't apologize for my voicing my suspicions. And for the record, Clint, I just told her that she needed to choose. The way she cries on your shoulder about not knowing who she is, and comes to you for training after spending two days away from the Tower doing who knows what. And I caught the look she gave Steve when we first brought her in, and then I find her in a closed room with Steve, talking about that second date he promised her."

"If you were listening to that entire conversation, then you know that I told him that I didn't want to go on that second date, that I just wanted it to stop being awkward between us."

"I hear more than just the words. I hear the tone. That 'fuck me' whisper."

"Oh, my god! You... you... okay, bitch. I'm going to Steve and Tony. You don't run shit around here. I'm going to the bosses," Cassie said, shooting to her feet and stomping out of the room.

"Damn it, Nat!" Clint groaned, before following Cassie out. He caught up to her as she walked into the elevator, grabbing her hand and gently pushing her against the elevator wall. As the doors closed, she stared up at him. "I don't agree with Nat," he whispered.

Her eyes tore away from his, trying to not get caught in his deep blues. "She's right. I want you both. That's why I determined not to try for either of you. That's why I told Steve I just wanted to get rid of the awkwardness. I can't have you both, so I am not trying to be with either one."

"That's not going to work," Clint said, putting his left hand out to push the red stop button. "I don't know, exactly, how Steve feels about you, but I can't stop thinking about you. It was a huge motivator to finding you in Austria. I found you and I'm not going to let Steve have you, just like I'm not going to let you walk away or let Nat chase you away," Clint whispered into her left ear, causing shivers to run down her spine.

"If I give in here, Clint, then she is right. She's right about me. Don't make me be what she thinks of me."

Clint pulled away and pulled the red button back out. "Jarvis, take us to the penthouse."

"Right away, Agent Barton."

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