❝ So many weapons Aphelios. The deadliest is your faith. ❞

independent rp blog for aphelios from league of legends. semi private && selective. featuring primarily his canon lore but also featuring verses in his spirit blossom && heartsteel skinline universes. penned by ami (shey/they && 30) 

– carrd ✦  interest checker –

Loving Hands

The youngest daughter of King Viserys falls seriously ill. Perhaps the loving hand of the Commander can do so much to help.

genre: a bit of angst, mostly fluff. mention of minor character death. 

a/n: this was inspired by my mum who took care of me recently. I was very ill with a migraine, cramps and an uneasy stomach and she stayed by my side through it all. Made me think how ser harwin would take care of his lover! Enjoy!

word count: 4K

A violent cough escaped your lips before you could bring up your handkerchief to your mouth, it felt as if your chest was rattling shaking your whole entire body from the inside.

What once started out as a small cough and a simple cold had turned into something dreadfully worse but being as stubborn as you were, you never wanted to admit it. 

However, you began to feel weaker as the days drew on, your body sore as if you had gone horse riding for days on end, skin cold even as the sun beat down upon you. 

‘Are you well my lady?’ 

The gentle, but deep rumbling voice of your personal guard, Ser Harwin Strong, caught your attention as your cough finally eased. You waved him away with a small smile. 

‘I’m fine, Commander. Just a little cough is all, it will pass,’ You barely gasped out, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible.

He came to your side, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes roamed your face. ‘I’ve heard and seen much sickness princess. If I may speak plainly, that does not sound like a normal cough.’

You scoffed but with a chuckle. 

Taking a brief look around for any stragglers that wondered the gardens, you clasped the Commander’s gloved hand into yours, squeezing it as you gave him your best smile. 

‘I’m perfectly alright Harwin, I promise.’ 

In the past few months, you and the heir to Harrenhal had become incredibly close. From childhood friends to something you couldn’t really put your finger on. 

His embrace was where you felt safest in the privacy of his chambers, his hands holding you as if you were made of glass, your own mapping out the scars that decorated his skin, memories left behind of the battles he had fought. 

Your titles would be forgotten and conversation would flow freely. Sometimes a kiss or two was shared but nothing more. And yet, you knew it was most definitely more than friends. 

He sighed heavily before smiling down you, letting his knuckles caress your cheek, ‘I only worry for you princess. That is all.’

‘But, I think I may call for the Maester once I have a nap. I’m feeling rather tired suddenly.’ 

‘As you wish my lady.’ 

His arm was out for you before you could ready yourself to stand up, gripping his forearm as you stood to your feet, his hand settling briefly on the small of your back to make sure you were steady before letting you go ahead. 

But as you made your way back towards the Red Keep, you knew something was amiss. You felt light, your sight fogged as if tears glazed your eyes. You let your head fall back and looked up through your lashes, the sky a smear of blues and clouds like a child’s painting. 

And then your world began to spin. 

‘H-Harwin?’ 

You were unconscious before your legs gave way, too far gone to feel a pair of arms wrap around you as you crumpled to the ground. 

Even in his condition, Viserys was fast as he limped down the corridor, Rhaenyra running ahead as the guards hurried to catch up to them. 

They burst through the doors of your room, coming upon the sight of the maids bustling around the bed, a Maester standing over you as you lay in bed.

‘Y/N?!’ 

Rhaenyra rushed to your side, ignoring the cries of the maids and Maester to stay away as she sat close to your side. The breath left her as she took in the sight of you. 

Your skin had paled from its beautiful glow to a dull grey, sweat glistening across your skin. The soft wheeze that left your lips every so often caught her attention, watching the low rise and fall of your chest. Even your hair had darkened from a beautiful white to ash. 

She gripped your hand in hers, pressing a kiss to it as Viserys hobbled to your bedside, a cloth held up to his mouth. ‘What is the matter with my daughter? I want an answer now!’ 

‘The Princess is down with influenza my King.’ The Maester was brave enough to speak up, coming to his side. Viserys looked at him in horror. 

‘How did this happen? She was perfectly healthy this morning at breakfast!’ 

The old man sighed. ‘Unfortunately, it is a wicked sickness that can turn fatal very quickly if not treated properly.’

‘Is there anything we can do for her now?’ Rhaenrya, who had been quietly listening to the Maester, asked, unable to tear her eyes away from her sister. 

‘I have given her the necessary medicines needed to treat such a sickness your Highness. For now we watch and pray that she makes it through the night, only then will we be able to tell how severe this really is.’ 

She nodded before Viserys looked around the room. ‘Who found Y/N? She was in the gardens this morning when I last saw her.’

‘She was your Majesty. The Commander was the one who was with her. He who brought her here and took care of her before I arrived.’ 

It was only then that the King and Rhaenyra finally caught sight of the man in the corner of the room, stock still as a statue, his eyes trained on the young woman now lying in bed barely moving. 

For how big he was, Harwin had moved like lighting through the Red Keep after you had collapsed, carrying your limp body in his arms and ignoring those who whispered and gasped.  

Had barked orders at the maids who had been moving about your room, ordering for the Maester and for the King and Princess be notified of your current state. 

He had immediately moved you to the bed, and with caution to thrown to the wind, removed the thick layers of your dress to leave you in your shift. Only when the Maester arrived had he backed off, fading into the corner of the room to observe. 

The King gave a nod to the Commander, words failing him as he looked to his youngest daughter once more. Pressing the cloth firmly over his mouth, he leant down, pressing his forehead against yours. 

‘Oh my darling girl, my sweet little one …’ 

Tears immediately filled Rhaenyra’s eyes as a mere whimper left your lips, gripping her father’s hand where it rested over yours. 

After their mother had passed, the two sisters made it their duty to remain close with their father, making the most of every day as his own sickness worsened. 

Losing mother was the greatest heartbreak, Rhaenyra knew if her father lost you too, it would surely be the death of him, and her too. 

The Maester shepherded everyone out of the room, looking towards the Commander who remained. He placed a hand on his shoulder, ‘Come now Ser Harwin. All we can do for now is let her rest and pray she makes it through the night.’ 

With a small push to his back, Harwin was led out of the room, his eyes remaining on you surrounded by your family, even as the door shut. 

The light had long faded from the skies as Harwin found himself pacing his room. It had been a few days since you had fainted in his arms, and still no word came with any improvements. 

He tried to distract himself; tried training, reading a book, visiting the garrison.

Yet all he could think of was you, laying in your bed and barely breathing. 

It brought memories of his own mother to mind, how as a young boy had stood in the doorway of his parents room. 

He had watched as his father tearfully whispered sweet words of goodbyes to his mother who lay cradled in his arms, her breath rattling and then fading into silence. 

Harwin couldn’t bare to watch another woman he loved so dearly perish the same way. 

First he visited the kitchens brightly lit by the torches alight, the fire dancing across the walls. The cooks and kitchen maids giving him a smile before returning to their duties. 

The head cook, Mrs Crooke, who had been in the midst of mixing a bowl of some sort of sauce, cheered at the sight of him, ambandoning her tools to embrace him heartily.  

‘My dear laddy look at you! Commander of the City Watch visiting little old me.’ She cried, cupping his cheek with a large grin. 

Harwin smiled, placing his hand over the woman’s. ‘Its good to see you again Mrs Crooke but I must ask you a favour. The Princess Y/N is incapacitated at the moment.’

Her hand fell to her heart, nodding, ‘Aye, we’ve heard she’s been taken ill the poor Lass.’ 

‘Well, that’s exactly why I’ve come to you.’ 

She raised her eyebrow in question and he continued, ‘I was wondering perhaps your broth would be able to help. I know she wouldn’t be able to eat anything heavy she wouldn’t be able to keep it down, so something light may at least keep her well for the time being.’ 

The old woman couldn’t help but smile, taking in the mistiness of the Commander’s eyes and worry written in his expression. She took his hand in hers. ‘You care for her don’t you lad?’

Harwin wanted to deny it. 

If anyone found out it would be seen as incredibly out of line, even treasonous. He didn’t care what happened to him, he just didn’t want to see Y/N hurt or unhappy. And yet, in that moment, he couldn’t help but nod. 

Mrs Crooke nodded, immediately turning to the other kitchen maids with a clap of her hands. 

‘Take over here ladies, a special order is needed for the Princess Y/N!’ 

Harwin made his way to Y/N’s chambers, armour now removed, carefully holding a marble bowl of cold water, a cloth thrown over his arm. The guard that stood at your chambers briefly looked at him, Harwin recognising him as one of his own men, he nodded to him. 

‘I’m here to attend to the Princess.’ 

For a moment the guard hesitated, and fear brewed within the Commander’s belly. 

He trusted his men, however he knew that no matter how loyal a man could be to his duty, a price could always overturn it. There were spies and traitors working for the corrupt within Kings Landing, they easily could spin this mere event into something far worse. 

However, the fear ebbed away as soon as the guard nodded to him, opening the door for him. 

Harwin quickly made his way over to the bedside, placing the bowl down. His glanced nervously over to you. 

Sweat drenched your shift, hair matted against your face. The rasp in your lungs had worsened, and it made his heart clench as you gasped for air, groaning deliriously. 

‘Oh my love,’ He whispered, pushing your hair away from your face, pressing his palm to your cheek. Your eyes briefly flickered towards him, sighing before falling quiet once more. 

Harwin couldn’t help but press his lips to your temple in comfort, heart clenching at the warmth that prickled beneath his lips. 

Quickly he picked up the cloth he had brought, folding it before dipping it into the water, letting it soak for a moment before bringing it to your skin. A whimper left your lips but he pressed on, wiping away any trace of sweat that he could see.

Leave the cloth to rest on your head, he reached into the pouch on his belt pulling out a small vial of oil. Pouring a generous amount into the centre of his palm, rubbing his hands together, eyes never leaving your face as you rested. 

Harwin leant over you letting his hands rest against your neck, unable to hold back his smile as you keened beneath his touch. He began to massage around your jaw, your neck and just above your collarbones. 

His hands wondered down your arms to your hands, taking one in his grasp and letting his thumb follow the lines that were etched into your palm before taking the other and doing the same. 

‘Ser Harwin!’ He turned to find one of the young maids at the door, ‘i’m sorry I didn’t think anyone would be here Commander! I just came to check in on the Princess.’

He gave her a nod in greeting, standing to his feet. 

‘At ease Maisley, it’s okay. I’m seeing to that the Princess is well looked after. Her fever has gone down considerably since I arrived. I would suggest helping her change into a new shift, she may grow uncomfortable when she awakens.’

She nodded, hurrying around the room. Even when she brought over the partition to obscure the bed from sight, Harwin turned his back to it, not wanting to make either of the ladies uncomfortable. 

When a cough disrupted the silence, he looked up at the sight of one of the kitchen hands carrying a tray in the doorway.

‘The broth you requested Commander,’ The young boy announced, nodding to the black pot that sat beside the bowl of steaming broth, ‘Mrs Crooke also thought it best to also give some mint ginger tea, said it would help get her back to health in no time.’ 

‘Thank you, and give my thanks to Mrs Crooke once more. Let her know I will visit as soon as the moment arises,’ He said as he took it with a smile, the boy bowed to him before making his way out of the room. 

Harwin placed the tray down on the bedside table once Maisley began to move the partition away to reveal you adorning a new shift, replacing the old one which she held in her grasp. She turned to the Commander.

‘Will that be all Ser Harwin? Anything else you may need?’ 

He smiled towards her. ‘Not at the moment thank you Maisley, go get some rest.’  

The young maid bowed to him before also taking her leave, shutting the door firmly behind her. 

‘Harwin?’ 

Whipping around, he found you staring up at him sluggishly, eyes barely open, a hand reaching out to him. 

‘I’m here my love, I’m right here,’ He caressed your cheek, eyes softening as you even in your sickened state, leant into his touch. 

You smiled up at him, but it faded as you took in your shift, the heaviness of your chest evident, glancing around to recognise your own chambers.  

‘What happened? I-I remember us in the gardens and—’

‘It’s okay Y/N, you're safe.’ He hushed you, turning your face towards his, keeping his hand on your neck to keep you steady. ‘You were ill and fainted, I brought you to your room and the Maester took a look at you.’

Slowly the panic eased from your body, leaning back into the warmth of your bed, watching as Harwin picked up the steaming bowl from your bedside table. 

‘You must eat, you need to keep your strength up.’

‘I’m not hungry Harwin, I’m just so sleepy …’ 

‘How about you eat just a little, then you can get some more rest? For my sake?’ 

You chuckled quietly at his child-like request, carefully trying to sit up. Harwin was quick to assist, a brief squeak leaving you as his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you up to lean against the headboard and adjusting the pillow to accomodate you. 

When you reached for the spoon, he was quick to pull away with a shake of his head and wearing a smirk, bringing the warm spoon to your lips. 

‘I may be sick, Harwin, but I am not lame,’ You croaked only for your words to splutter as you coughed roughly, feeling his hand rub soothingly across your back. 

When the coughing lessened, and your wheezing quietened, Harwin gently said as he brushed your hair back, ‘That may be so, but let me take care of you my love.’ 

Too tired to resist, you allowed him to feed a few spoons of broth. Even with your mouth feeling dry and tastebuds dulled, you enjoyed the rich chicken, rosemary and thyme that broke through; munching quietly on some of the carrots, potatoes and onion as he watched attentively. 

Soon enough the bowl was empty, and Harwin was setting it aside before easing you back against the bed, your eyes now drooping sleepily. As he pulled back, your hand shot to his, gripping his fingertips weakly. 

‘Please don’t go Harwin …’ You gasped, ‘I-I don’t want to be alone.’

Harwin’s heart broke, bending so he was looking into your eyes. ‘I’ll be only a moment darling, I just want to stoke the fire.’

‘Hmm, it is cold ...’ You whimpered. Harwin’s brow furrowed quickly placing the back of his hands against your forehead only to curse. Your fever had returned, and worse it seemed. 

Quickly, he rushed around the room. Tossing a few new logs and kindling into the grand fireplace, he stoked at the flames until it was roaring and heat swarmed the room. 

Returning to kneel at your side, he grabbed the soaking cloth once more, gently dabbing it across your face. A trembling cry left your lips, a tear slipping down your cheek. 

‘Please don’t leave me ...’

‘I’ll be here beloved,’ He whispered shakily against your cheek where he laid a soft kiss, running his fingertips through your hair. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Leaning his forehead against yours, he silently prayed, asking the seven—or whatever force was present—to stay their hand and leave you be. He wouldn’t allow them to take you so easily.

The next morning after yet another restless night of anxious thoughts, Rhaenyra accompanied her father towards her sisters room like she had for the last few days. 

When she had tried to get closer to aid Y/N where she could, the Maesters and maids held her back, not wanting the heir to the throne to avoid potentially catching the sickness. 

It had angered her that she could not help her sister, instead ordering those who were present to do all they could for her. She could only hope that her sister had made improvement. 

When the door to your chambers opened, a gasp left Rhaenyra’s lips, but this time out of shocked delight. 

You were now sitting up in bed with your hair tied back sipping at what she presumed to be tea, revealing the colour that had returned to your cheeks, wearing a smile at the sight of your father and sister. 

Just like days previous, Rhaenyra ran to her sister ignoring the cries of the maids and Maesters, jumping across the bed to pull you into a fierce, tight hug. You couldn’t help but chuckle, leaning your cheek against her head. 

‘Sister you are fool to let yourself get ill so easily!’ Your sister cried, shaking you as if to bring clarity to your mind.

Smiling, you pulled away to look at her, only to sigh at the tears evident in her eyes. You pressed your hands to her cheeks. ‘I am sorry I worried you Nyra. You know how stubborn I can get in my own ways.’ 

Rhaenyra couldn’t help but shake with quiet laughter before pressing her lips to your forehead, letting your head rest on her shoulder. 

At the sound of a familiar cane striking against stone, you looked up to see your father at your side, tears streaming down his face. 

‘Oh father!’ 

Pulling away once more from your sister, you embraced your father, tears of your own springing to your eyes as his hand came up to run through your hair, also pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

‘My dear sweet girl,’ He whispered to you, ‘thank the gods that you are okay!’

‘There is someone you should thank though father.’ 

When your father pulled away in confusion, you nodded with a smile towards the man that once more stood in the far corner,  hands clasped in front of him as he observed the room. 

‘The Commander nursed me back to health. Had broth made and brought to me, eased my fever, and watched over me during the night.’

Harwin gave a nod to you, deep shadows sat beneath his eyes, tiredness straining at his limbs, but he would do it all over again just to see the way you smiled at him. 

‘Ser Harwin,’ Viserys limps towards the Commander, leaning heavily on his cane as his hand came down on the man’s shoulder, ‘Thank you my boy. I will forever be in your debt for taking such care of my daughter.’ 

Harwin smiled briefly, bowing to the King. ‘Not at all your majesty, I only do what is best to keep the Princess safe as it is my duty. I’ve dealt with a lot of sickness in my life, I did not want to see her go through the same suffering that I’ve seen others go through. I must say, the Princess has an enduring spirit, she fought hard.’ 

You ducked your head with a shy smile, feeling a sudden nudge to look up at Rhaenyra who raised her eyebrow with a small smirk and you couldn’t help but giggle, hiding your face against her shoulder. 

It was a day later you found yourself fully recovered, out of bed and dressed in a stunning blue dress, you left the confines of your room. 

After some business had been attended to, you rushed out of your father’s room with excitement. Harwin stood in the corridor, his head turning towards you as you rushed towards him. 

‘Ser Harwin, it is good to see you on such a beautiful day.’ 

‘Princess,’ He bowed his head in greeting to you with a smile, ‘I’m happy to see you doing so well.’

Quickly looking around, you took his hand, pulling him along with you. At first he was hesitant, looking around once more before following you into a small alcove, dimly lit by the sunshine that fell through from the corridor. 

You turned to him, nervously picking at your nails as you glance up at him. ‘I wanted to thank you for taking care of me Harwin.’ 

‘Princess—‘ At your raised eyebrow, he corrected himself, ‘Y/N you do not need to thank me.’ 

‘But I do, because I know you didn’t need to take care of me the way you did. I need to know ... why you did it.’ 

For a moment he stared at you silently before sighing. Stepping forward slowly he removed his gloves tucking them into his belt, taking your hand into his. 

‘Seeing you in that bed brought back memories I never want to see again. My mother s-she,’ He closed his eyes briefly before looking down at you, ‘She died of influenza. I watched her leave us in the arms of my father, the one woman able to ease his heart gone in a matter of days. And I couldn’t let you go.’ 

You felt his thumb trace the lines of your palm, but your eyes did not stray from his, your hand immediately reaching for his cheek to wipe away the tears that fell. 

Leaning into your touch, he tipped your chin up as he brought his forehead to yours. ‘I couldn’t lose the woman I love to that, not again. You are the one thing that gives me meaning and purpose. Upon my vow, I will do everything in my power to ensure you are safe and loved.’

A small gasp left your lips after hearing his words, his breath batting against your skin. Without hesitating, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, your hand still resting against his cheek.

Sighing against your lips, Harwin’s hand fell from your chin to rest against your waist pulling you even closer. When you parted, his nuzzled his nose against yours affectionately making you laugh. 

‘Oh how I missed that sound.’ 

You smiled sweetly up at him, pushing away the wild curls that obscured his beautiful eyes from your sight. 

‘I went to see my father today, told him of my desire to marry you,’ You whispered against his lips, smiling as he pulled away in shock, ‘I must warn you, Rhaenyra also has put in a good word for you to him. She believes you’ve already proved yourself enough.’

Harwin felt as if he was in a dream, the blood thumping in his veins fuelled by the happiness that wrapped around his heart. 

‘Have I ever told you how I love you?’ 

You laughed, gripping his hand between you. ‘You showed with your actions, they spoke so loudly and showed me how incredible of a man you are. One that I would like to have as my husband.’

Harwin smiled widely, letting his head fall to your neck. You couldn’t help but giggle as his nose brushed your skin, lips pressing against below your collarbone where he felt the pulse of your heartbeat. 

A loud squeal left your lips as his arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off your feet, spinning you around laughing heartily.

As history came to pass, people would know how Harwin Strong’s greatest honour was the love he held for his wife, Princess Y/N Targaryen and their children. And from that day onward, as he had vowed, Harwin protected, loved and ensured your happiness for the rest of your days. 

harwin masterlist  -  masterlist

a/n: this turned out SO much longer than I expected it to. 

tagged (if your tag isn't working DM me and we'll try and fix it up!): @thesithdiaries @dazecrea @ppeuppeuppeu @a-sunflower-in-bloom @ladystrongofharrenhall @ccallistata @agoldin @vivilingme-blog @my-dark-prince @derzauberermitlilabademantel @blooomsstuff @starxdame @alexslittlegirl  @budugu @piper570 @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @words-way-of-life  @m1tzifa1ry @gibbsgirl7 @b0xfullofdarkness @hueanhdang @criesinsagitarius @nicolewithanee @starxqt @ateliefloresdaprimavera @akilababs @lakamaa12 @iwillboilyourteeth @littlebirdgot @venus2eros @akinatrix @rainazinha @missusnora @hadesismybaby-reacts ​ @lucyysthings ​ @whiterosesblackroses ​​ @b3nzeynep @rosemalachi 

In Sickness

Two hammertooth snippets, one for Magnus and one for Toki. What goes on when the other is sick. 

Rating: T

Magnus Even with an improvement to his diet, regular exercise and an unbelievable health plan supported and maintained by Dethklok Incorporated, sickness still proved a semi-regular thing with Magnus. It didn’t hit as hard as it used to, back when they were still figuring things out between them, but it was always enough to render him near immobile, and Toki at his most attentive. He summoned his mother’s old recipes and made hearty stews and strong, but bitter teas and medicinal properties, and making sure only to substitute what absolutely couldn’t be found so easily at the stores. 

“What’s that smell?”

Magnus sounded grouchy. He normally was when he was sick, and pushed and verbally fought to keep Toki at bay. Complained it was an issue of contagions. He also complained about the migraines, the snot and inability to properly swallow. He complained about a lot of things. 

With a smile, Toki crept into the bedroom. In his hands was a small bowl of eucalyptus and mint. “Balm,” he answered, and combated Magnus’ thin, grim line of a scowl with a raised, albeit cheeky, grin. It will opens your chest up and makes breathing easier.” 

Magnus apparently didn't find the answer suitable enough, and groaned before returning to his makeshift blanket cave. 

Toki knelt over the bed. With a free hand, he raised a blanket just high enough for him to make out Magnus dressed in the same sweatshirt he had donned the past few days and nothing else.  He was coiled miserably, embracing his thin body and expelling audible, strained wheezes. 

Magnus frowned at him. “That shit looks gross, Toke.” 

Toki found this latest complaint weirdly cute. He thought Magnus, stricken ill and completely dependent on him, was unusually preferable. Was it bad? Toki himself wasn't too sure, and although a small part of him desired to ask Magnus about the issue, he determined it better to keep his mouth shut and enjoy the ticklish sensation that erupted from within each time Magnus beckoned him for water, for help getting to the restroom, or just for him to be bear so they could chat. 

“It isn’t that bads.” Toki gave the bowl a playful wave before he was suddenly hit with the intense scent of freshly mashed herbs and greens. He wrinkled his nose, fighting off the strong scent. From below, Magnus raised a doubtful brow. “Ok, so it smells strongs,” Toki promptly corrected, and after a heartfelt chuckle, added, “But, it works real goods!” 

Magnus retreated further into the blankets. “I really don't want that on me.” 

It was always hard not to laugh. Toki didn't think there was anything overtly funny about being sick, but Magnus so riled over a simple rub couldn't help but muster another snicker. Magnus, despite his rules and insistence to rest and be left alone, wasn’t too different from a fickle, stubborn child afraid to take his medicine. Toki recalled some distant, far off instances where he tried to flee his mother’s caring hand because he didn't like the taste of bitter roots and spices. 

Still smiling, Toki sat beside Magnus. He combed his fingers through his knotted curls and said,  “Just does the old saying? Clothes your eyes and thinks of Ireland?” 

“Ugh.” He watched Magnus attempt to roll his eyes, only to wince midway and shut them tight. He groaned. “My head is killing me.”

Toki lowered and carefully pecked his lips against Magnus’ forehead. “I knows,” he said gently,  so as to not worsen the pain. “Come on. Takes off your sweatshirt.” 

It took a few minutes to get Magnus into a sitting position, another minute of him grumbling getting the sweatshirt off. He made faces as Toki grabbed a liberal glob of chest balm, and bit down a swear when the cool medicine spread across his back. He was hot to the touch. The next few days would be touch-and-go. As much as Toki wanted to bring in the board games, movies and music, he knew Magnus was better off resting. If he did, he’d wake up on dafy three, maybe four, and would be back to his usual self. Not as grumpy or dependent, but in a better mood and willing to go out and have fun. 

Toki mused on the thought. It would be nice to go skating again. 

“Think you can find it in your heart to grab me a drink?” 

The question came from below. Toki paused, dipping his middle and forefinger into the bowl and then stared at Magnus’ slowly expanding back. It was a pointless question and Magnus knew it. Given their shared health concerns and addictive personalities, alcohol was a rare treat, and Toki didn’t think it was a good idea to give Magnus a can of beer or shot of whiskey when he was supposed to stay hydrated. What good would drinking do? Magnus could barely breathe; booze would only make things worse. 

Just then, Magnus straightened himself, though only momentarily. Toki watched the curvature of his spin correct itself, and long wavy locks draped down his freshly rubbed back. Some stuck to his skin, and right as Toki reached to brush some away, Magnus slowly threw his head back. A set of eyes and a leaky nose were pointed at him. A slightly chapped pair of lips patiently waited for a response.  

And Magnus was frowning again. This time, a pitiful expression begging for a reprieve. And who could blame him? It sucked to be sick. To feel weak. But alcohol this early in the day, and while he was still so congested? More hair fell as Magnus leaned his sluggish being against Toki. Oh, but could he say no to that face?  The frown shifted into a slight pout, and the little creased that littered his forehead deepened. Despite his height and frame, at that moment he appeared so small, so helpless. 

And then he sniffled. That wet, noisy inhale Toki broke. 

“Hmm.” Toki pressed a clean finger against his chin as more of Magnus’ weight sank on top of him. Toki  faced two mismatched pupils and replied gently,  “Thinks you can flips over and let me rub your chest first?” 

Toki

Unlike Magnus who appreciated the rest and tender loving affection that came along with being ill, Toki preferred to maintain some semblance of normalcy, rejecting the bed and humidifier in favor of dragging his sorry self behind Magnus and insisting he was fine and could help with cooking, cleaning and other daily activities. If it wasn’t something as trivial as absolutely needing to vacuum, it was Toki begging Magnus to play some random video game while he watched or, if things were really bad, Toki selecting some film title Magnus brought up in past conversation in the hopes it would convince him to allow Toki out of the bedroom for a few more hours. These small acts of defiance were at least understandable. Toki thrived on attention, distractions and stimulation, no matter how small. More importantly, Toki didn’t want to be alone. Despite the obvious complaints and concerns, Magnus did his best to keep to the living room, setting aside certain responsibilities so Toki could remain close.

After a few mindless stirs, Magnus turned off the stove and poured a small bowl of canned chicken soup. Nothing fancy, certainly not compared to the stuff Toki concocted when he was bedridden, but it was more than enough to put a smile on Toki’s face. Still, Magnus fished through the cupboards and grabbed an unopened roll of crackers just in case, and as he passed the fridge also debated whether some fruits or chopped veggies would improve the meal. He returned to the disaster that was the living room where Toki lay, barely conscious. Magnus stepped over throw pillows that were tossed in favor of blankets and the softer, plush cushions that once occupied their bed. The screen illuminated massive subtitles that he was sure Toki stopped reading ages ago. 

Toki was caught under a loose mound of blankets, resting on his stomach and embracing his worn stuffed bear. Though his eyes were open, they possessed a gloss that suggested he was long gone. Still, Magnus approached with his usual gait, letting his flip flops hit the hardwood flooring until he reached the crowded sofa. 

He gave Toki a light nudge. “You still awake?” 

Magnus watched Toki’s form squirm lazily under the blankets. With an elongated stretch, he released the mildest of yawns. Barely audible, were it not for the hoarse wetness that cracked out his sore throat. 

Magnus took his seat before offering the soup. “Come. Eat.” 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem, bud.” 

After a day of merely observing and offering the slightest remarks, Toki was exhausted. Whatever he had was doing its best to make him absolutely miserable. Magnus combed through long, greasy strands of chestnut brown hair as Toki crawled closer, his moist grip weakened and hardly registering with Magnus’s leg. With some help, Magnus had Toki resting on his lap, and with some coaxing he managed to convince his boyfriend to accept being spoon fed by him. 

He heard Toki sniff after a rough swallow. “What’s happening?” 

A small rise of the blankets pointed towards the screen. Magnus stared at the scene ahead, unsure himself what was currently happening. 

“Hell if I know. I was making your lunch,” he muttered, then stirred the half-consumed bowl. He glanced at the subtitles. “Let’s see…” 

Narration served to bore and tire Toki. Warm food to fill and push him closer to the darkness. And when that was done, Magnus’ combed through Toki’s hair. Gentle pets that ignored the collecting oil and off-putting body heat, and so purposely designed to break down whatever fortitude that remained and lull him into a slumber. Magnus split his attention between whatever was on screen, and Toki’s fluttering lids and labored, but steady breathing. Really, Magnus enjoyed the process. Were it not for the threat of catching the sickness and Toki’s complaints of being babied and coddled, he’d do it more often. 

“What’s going on nows?” Toki’s scratchy voice asked after a few minutes of silence. 

Magnus ceased his affection to catch Toki looking up at him. “We’ll, she’s realizing she can’t stay in the country anymore…” 

He liked hearing his own voice, liked explaining plots and characters while Toki’s weight and warmth sank on top of him. He didn’t mind the sound of wet coughs, reaching and grabbing a box of tissues to help Toki catch whatever mucus was leaking from some orifice.  Because it was nice when Toki had to rely on him. It was better to make more memories of that, and of himself mending and healing instead of lashing out and destroying whatever was in his wake. Even now, after all these years, Magnus looked forward to another instance of him doing good to one day substitute and remove (a man could dream, couldn't he) those awful hauntings that still overtook his consciousness on occasion. Those instances were increasingly rare, but when they hit–

A loud cough erupted, drowning out the french with a hoarse, scratchy sound that nearly caused Magnus to jump. He dropped his gaze to Toki below, the source of such awful retching and now jerking as he recoiled from the intense pain now collecting in his throat and head. Knowing this, Magnus quickly reached for a handful of tissues. Once Toki was finished he handed them over, looking away and not minding when he felt a warm wad of tissues being returned. 

He waited a few more seconds before asking, “You ok?” 

“My head hurts,” Toki answered with a sad whimper. 

“Oh.” Magnus expelled a soft, sad little noise before lifting his hands away from Toki’s pulsing temples. 

“Don’s stop.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Pettings.” Two pale blue eyes peered up at him. “Please.” 

Smiling, Magnus replied, “I won’t,” and returned to stroking Toki’s crown, slowing when he reached the sides and applying gentle pressure to distract, re-navigate and ease. A few minutes later, Toki's breathing returned to a slow pace. Still noticeable, but the whines emitted soothed into something tolerable, and soon Magnus felt (and heard) Toki’s Deady bear slip from his grip. It fell to the floor, neglected and forgotten, but Magnus made no attempt to rescue it as Toki’s arms slowly rooted themselves to him. 

His legs made the worst pillows. Magnus knew this, but when he dropped his stare to see Toki’s eyes flutter and start to sink, he could only bite down the pained smile that still managed to rise from ear to ear, and continued drawing out long, loving pets until he was confident Toki’s eyes would remain closed. 

When they hit, it made moments like this all the more precious.

Valentine’s Day Sucks

Part 1

Draco grit his teeth as another wave of ooohs and ahhhs sounded across the small collection of cubicles. He tried to ignore the outbreak of distinctly feminine chatter and focus on the report he was currently writing. After reading the same paragraph three times, he was finally able to get back into the flow of things. He was halfway through drafting his next sentence when a loud bang followed by assorted squeals and giggles broke out, and he couldn’t help but sneak a peek.

Longbottom was currently surrounded by a cloud of glittering pink smoke that smelled strongly of roses, and there on his desk was a humongous box of chocolates. Draco sighed, he was more than ready for this Valentine’s Day nonsense to be over with. It was bad enough hearing all the witches in his department cooing like a pack of wild doves each time one of them received a flower delivery, which of course was every few minutes. But to make matters worse, this year the wizards seemed to be getting just as many gifts thanks the Wheezes new ad campaign which insisted that witches must also get soppy romantic trinkets for their gents.

Draco would have admired such a brilliant marketing strategy, that had surely doubled their profits this year, if it didn’t cause him to have double the annoyance at the same time. While the witches gifts were more traditional and quiet; flowers, chocolate, jewelry. The men’s gifts were far sillier; singing heat shaped telegrams that burst into miniature fireworks at the end of their song, stuffed bears that did cartwheels across desks before exploding into a shower of confetti, and large boxes like Longbottom’s that went off like a bomb, leaving behind chocolates once the smoke had cleared.

Of course it didn’t help matters that Draco knew he wouldn’t be receiving anything this year. It wasn’t that he was alone, at least not technically. He had been seeing, or at least sleeping with, Harry-savior-of-the-whole-fucking-wizarding-world Potter, for just over 4 months. Not that it counted though, probably. They had never discussed whether or not what they were doing was exclusive. For Draco it was, and he was fairly certain it was for Harry as well, seeing how he barely had any free-time as Deputy Head Auror and all. But a lack of time to see other people, and actually wanting to date someone were two very different things.

Case in point was the Mountain of gifts that Draco could see steadily growing in the office across the room filled with their cubicles. Witches and wizards from all over the world sent Harry gifts each holiday, but this one always seemed to be the worst. Two curse breakers were currently stationed in the room sorting, screening, and vanishing questionable gifts, while Harry himself was still out meeting with the muggle liaison of Interpol for some reason or another. He wasn’t due to return until Monday, and by then his office would be clear once again.

The safe candy was set aside to be distributed to various departments in the ministry, particularly those inconvenienced the most by this whole fiasco; the mailroom, the janitors union, the curse breakers, and of course the aurors. All of the mail was piled neatly for his secretary to review. The majority of it would be vanished of course, but a few of the most polite ones would be answered eventually.

In fact, now that Draco thought about it, his willingness to always be available to Harry no matter how last minute or weird the hour was, in order to be able to see Harry in between his many meetings and trips abroad might be the only reason Harry even bothered with him at all. It was that thought, paired with the reminder that so far whatever ‘this’ was between them had remained a carefully guarded secret from even their closest friends, that caused a sharp clenching pain inside his gut. Draco determinedly pushed all thoughts of the idiot-who-lived far from his mind and tried once again to focus on work.

By lunchtime, the continuous loud bangs and rose scented smoke that accompanied them, had the beginnings of a migraine forming behind Draco’s eyes. He decided to escape the ministry for a bit and get some fresh air at the cafe across the street. He had just finished, and stood up to don his coat when a shadow appeared across his desk. He looked up into the sneering faces of Zacharias Smith, his well-endowed girlfriend, and a couple of brand new trainees whose names he didn’t care to remember.

"I was just about to head to lunch Smith so whatever it is you need will have to wait till after I return,” Draco kept his most impassive face in place, but his voice was firm. He knew the only thing Smith wanted was to start trouble and he wasn’t in the mood for any of it.

Smith smirked, “I just wanted to ask you where your Valentine’s Day gift was," he asked with a faux sweet voice.

That threw Draco for a loop for a minute, “What are you talking about?"

Smith and his group immediately started laughing, Draco wasn’t sure what the hell they found so funny or why on earth they were asking him about Valentine’s gifts of all things.

Smith’s smile had only gotten wider, “Well Malfoy, he emphasized, maybe it has escaped your notice, but you’re the only person in the entire department, possibly even the entire ministry who hasn’t received even one measly card.”

Draco could feel his heart rate picking up, but he hadn’t lived with old-moldyfarts for nothing, and was able to keep his face blank and posture relaxed. Smith was just getting warmed up though, pointing out how ‘of course’ they shouldn’t be so surprised that he hadn’t received anything, since he was death eater scum and all. By this point they were attracting the attention of the rest of the office.

Draco could see out of the corner of his eye that Granger was heading their direction, but Draco would rather die than have someone he once allowed to be tortured in his house defend him from a spineless git like Smith.

Draco carefully rolled his eyes and shook his head at Smith, “is that really the best you could come up with today Zachary?” Because he knew how much Smith hated people using the shorter form of his name, "you must be having just such a fulfilling Valentine’s Day yourself if you would rather spend all your time talking to me than your girlfriend, what are you 12?” He then swept out of the office before Smith could reply or Granger could reach them.

He was waiting down the hall for the lift when a fierce grip grabbed his arm and spun him around. It was Smith’s girlfriend, and Draco was fairly shocked to be manhandled by her. She, unlike her slimy boyfriend, had always seemed like a genuinely nice person. However her face right now was twisted in fury.

"No one will ever love you," she spat. "You can look down on us all you want, but in the end you will be a bitter old man and die alone. You don’t even have any friends!” She spun on her heel and left then.

Draco was left reeling in the hallway, his vision swimming a bit and his breathing a bit too fast and shallow. As the room came back into focus he locked eyes with Granger. Of course she had followed him out into the hall, of course she’d probably seen the whole thing. Fuck. The lift chimed and Draco stumbled back into in, jamming the door close button to stop her from pursuing him any further. He knew that look, that look of pity, and it made him sick to his stomach.

Draco ended up skipping lunch, he walked aimlessly around the nearest park until his face and fingers were numb with cold despite his gloves and warming charms. The words, “no one will ever love you,” played on endless repeat in his head as he fought to direct his thoughts toward anything else. He didn’t know why he let their words get to him like that, he didn’t give a shit what Smith or his girlfriend thought.

But the words had cut him to the bone, mainly because it was a very real fear he had held onto since the end of the war. His friends had all fled the country after the trials, some even before, and his dating life had been pretty nonexistent for the last 6 years. Nothing they had said was technically wrong. The men Draco had been with were ok with fucking him as long as no one ever found out. He just wasn’t the type of person anyone could ever take home to meet their parents.

And Draco had been ok with that, or so he thought. Relationships were just messy, unnecessary. Until Harry. Harry was the first man Draco had ever been with who took him to dinner, (at muggle restaurants), who always spent the night, who held him after sex, who made breakfast for him the morning after. Harry made him watch muggle films on his couch while giving him neck rubs or foot rubs and always made sure he had Draco’s favorite tea on hand. By the second month Draco had begun to think that maybe, just maybe they were something more than just sex.

But then one day they had been interrupted mid-foreplay by one of Harry’s friends visiting unannounced, and Harry had quickly shoved Draco into the closet and told him to be quiet. Draco had died a little inside that day. It was an unspoken agreement after that. Draco was a secret, a dirty little secret, just like always.

Draco returned to the office a few minutes late, half frozen and despondent, but as always he didn’t let any of it show on his face. He had considered skiving off the rest of the day, but wouldn’t give Smith the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten under his skin.

He buried himself in his work and carefully ignored any whispers or glances he felt come his way, but he was still attuned enough to the atmosphere of the room to notice as everyone was wrapping up their tasks at the end of the day and loudly discussing their romantic plans for the evening, when a ripple of silence suddenly overtook the room. It was so quiet and still that Draco looked up, wondering if everyone had somehow been stupefied simultaneously.

His jaw dropped as his eyes met green. Harry was standing just in front of his desk looking so very fit in his deputy head uniform. His brass buttons shining, his hair tousled just right, his brilliant eyes unobstructed since he’d finally ditched his horrid specs long ago. He was holding a garment bag in one hand and the biggest bouquet of long stemmed roses in the other. They were wrapped in white silk with a dark red bow, each petal had gold filigree on the edges.

"Are you ready to go darling?” He asked with a warm and inviting face, a fair bit of mischief in his eyes.

Draco, who had no idea what was going on, but was pretty sure he must have passed out from all the fumes and was dreaming just nodded.

Harry smiled brightly and laid the garment bag over Draco’s desk. "Well that’s good," Harry said, handing the roses to Draco, who took them dazedly, "Hermione told me you were too busy to pick up your suit today, so I went ahead and got it for you. We don’t have much time until the Portkey to Paris leaves so we’ll need to hurry home and change. I don’t think Le Cinq will let us in without the formal wear.

Draco who had decided he was definitely dreaming, simply nodded again and stood. Harry wasted no time walking around the desk to meet him. He placed a chaste, but lingering kiss on his lips, grabbed the bag and steered Draco toward the door with a warm hand on the small of his back.

The entire trek to the doors no one moved, Draco wasn’t sure any of them were even breathing. He wasn’t sure he was even breathing. Harry had just publicly outed them. Every face in the room was stricken with shock, except for Hermione who smiled at them both and Ron who gave him a curt nod. Draco realized neither of them were surprised. They know, he thought, oh gods they already know. He looked at Harry again and Harry gave him another dazzling smile and kiss on the cheek.

As soon as they were outside the doors a cacophony of noise sounded behind them and Harry turned to wink at Draco, but instead of heading toward the lifts, he simply wrapped his arm more firmly around Draco’s waist and apparated them on the spot.

-gift for @mothermalfoy

Link to Part 2:  https://drarry-we-meet.tumblr.com/post/190868463275/valentines-day-sucks-warning-this-2nd-half

Master of Deflection - Part 4

Another update, I hope you enjoy! Thank you all for being incredibly supportive during this rough time as I try to navigate myself through this dark period. I am deeply grateful to have your support. I honestly don’t think I would still be here if it weren’t for your love and support.

This is for you @ak47stylegirl and anyone else who enjoys Alan whump/smothering. Of course, there will be some extra Virgil in there too, because I just love the big guy.

@gumnut-logic Virgil smothers for you!

@godsliltippy @misssquidtracy Gordon jokes and laying down the law for you!

As a friendly reminder, I originally came from the TOS and TB 2004 era. I’ve tried to write a few TAG point of views, but my comfort zone is the previous. This will take place with Gordon as the redhead, and Virgil as the middle bro. Sorry!

Summary: Being the youngest of five is always hard, especially when they pounce at the slightest hair out of line. Sometimes the art of deflection can sting.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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

Daylight narrowly filtered into his bedroom as Alan slowly opened his heavy eyelids. The eighteen-year-old groaned as consciousness greeted him, and it was anything but welcoming. He swallowed with a grimace as his throat not only felt dry but painfully scratchy like sandpaper. Alan coughed as a tickle erupted from him, which only added to his misery as the rattle settled deep into his chest. He threw his covers off him as he felt smothered by heat, sweat collecting across his brow.

Turning to look at his clock, he noticed a note and a fresh bottle of water sitting on his nightstand. Alan groaned as he forced his achy body to reach the note before him. Unfolding it, Alan saw it was from his father.

Alan,

I came in to check on you, but you were sound asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you. Be sure to drink this water body to help stay hydrated. It’ll help with your headache. There is soup in the fridge waiting for you whenever you feel up to it. We can bring it up to you if you need us to. All you have to do is ask. I’ll come to check on you again in a few hours unless one of your brothers beats me to it. I laid another dose of your migraine meds on your nightstand so you wouldn’t have to get up. If you think you need another dose, I’d prefer you contact Virgil so he can check on you. For your old man’s sake, humor me.

Love, Dad

Alan smiled and laid the note back on his nightstand as he collapsed back into his bed. Closing his eyes, the teen moaned as his body ached once more, his head still pounding. Sniffling, he pulled the last Kleenex out of the box on his nightstand and blew his stuffy nose. He sighed when he didn’t see another box in sight.

Pushing his tired body up, he closed his eyes against the dizziness that stole his balance. A chill slithered its way throughout his body, causing the teen to throw the covers back over him quickly.

Nope, not worth making the trip to the bathroom.

Alan collapsed back into the comfort of his bed once more with a whimper as he realized he couldn’t handle this on his own anymore. Illuminating the face of his watch, he sent a quick text to his brother Virgil hoping the medic was both awake and near the device as it was still early morning yet.

He turned to grab a drink of water as he fought against another tickle in his throat while throwing the blankets off him as he suddenly felt heat overwhelm him. Alan felt his watch buzzing but was unable to answer as the tickle turned into a deep cough. The teen pushed himself up and tried to clear his throat. Fiddling with the cap on the water bottle, Alan attempted to take a sip of water in hopes it would help. He swallowed at the wrong time, making him cough more as he choked on the water.

“Alan!” he heard his brother call and felt Virgil’s steady arms around him.

“I’m okay,” he wheezed. “I just swallowed wrong.”

“Geez, kid. First, you text me you need me, and then you don’t answer. Then I find you in here choking,” Virgil barked. “What’s going on?”

“Virgil, can you take it down a notch,” Alan’s hoarse voice pleaded, wincing as his head throbbed.

“Sorry, you just gave me a scare is all,” Virgil exhaled as he eyed his baby brother precariously. “Are you okay? Is it your head?”

Alan coughed, groaning once more. “Yes and a few other things.”

Virgil frowned. “I don’t like that cough. When did it start?” he asked as he felt his brother’s forehead. “Yikes, kiddo. You’ve got a fever cooking there. What other symptoms do you have?”

“Headache still around. The cough started last night, along with the body aches. My throat hurts. One minute I’m cold, the next I’m sweating. It’s annoying,” the blonde grumbled, as another cough erupted from him, causing a grimace. “Chest hurts a little when I cough too.”

Virgil frowned deeper. “Let’s get you down to the infirmary and see what kind of fever we’re dealing with. I think you might have caught a nasty chest cold, Allie.”

“Lucky me,” Alan sighed. “Can’t I just stay here, and you can do your magic?”

“No can do, Sprout. I want to do a full-body check. If everything checks out, I’ll send you back here to isolate and rest. Deal?”

“Fiiine,” Alan whined and climbed out of bed slowly. As he stood, Alan felt his world tilt.

“Whoa!” Virgil exclaimed as he caught Alan around the waist, preventing the teen from falling. “Dizziness another symptom?”

“Yea,” Alan mumbled as he held onto his older brother.

“You okay?” Virgil worried as he continued to hold most of Alan’s weight.

“Peachy. Did you catch that bus that hit me?”

Virgil chuckled. “Afraid not, Al. Next time I’ll be sure to ask for license and registration. C’mon, let’s get you taken care of.”

-TB-

“I should’ve noticed this before the mission last night. I woke him up before the klaxon went off and something seemed off,” Scott cursed, leaning his head against the hallway wall.

Word had quickly spread across the villa that the youngest Tracy was sick. Virgil had kicked them out until he was finished examining the youngest Tracy.

“Alan is the master of deflection, Scott. He only lets us see what he wants us to see. Outside of the headache and general shock from that jerk Captain, he seemed fine,” Gordon said from his spot on the floor. “Besides, even you big brother can’t stop a cold from infecting one of us.”

“I could’ve stopped him from getting drenched in those freezing waters last night. Stopped him from being held by that Captain.”

“Don’t even go there,” Gordon said, looking at his oldest brother pointedly. “I’ve already had this conversation with Virgil. None of you are to blame. It happened, we dealt with it, and Alan is fine.”

“What did Virgil say to you?” Scott asked worriedly.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s fine,” Gordon reassured.

“I highly doubt that,” Scott scoffed. “Either way, I should’ve benched Alan last night.”

“You stop the kid when his mind is set on something?” Gordon mused. “How well has that worked out for you in the past?”

Scott glared at his younger brother.

“Okay, you two,” Virgil interrupted as the automatic infirmary doors opened. “You can come in.”

Scott didn’t waste a second as he entered the sterile room. Approaching Alan’s bed, he nodded at Jeff, who had stayed in the room. “Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” Alan groaned.

“Don’t worry, Allie,” Gordon chirped from beside Jeff. “You’ll be good as new before you even know it.”

“What’s the diagnosis?” Scott asked, looking to Virgil on his left. The brunette frowned as Alan was overcome with a coughing fit.

“Something viral,” Virgil said. “Looks like a nasty chest cold taking him for a ride.”

“You’ll be fine in a few days,” Jeff smiled, running a gentle hand through Alan’s unruly mop of hair that desperately needed a haircut.

“I hope so,” Alan croaked as he swallowed, the action irritating his throat. He closed his eyes as a wave of exhaustion hit me.

“Tired?” Scott asked, rubbing Alan’s arm.

“Yea…” Alan replied, opening his eyes.

“You can go back to your room, Sprout. I don’t see any reason to keep you in here for the moment. I already gave you some Tylenol to help with your symptoms,” Virgil said.

“Is it okay if I stay here for a bit? I’m too tired to move,” Alan moaned with a sniffle.

“Sure,” Virgil smirked.

“Better mark that one on the calendar, guys,” Gordon chuckled. “How high is that fever?” he asked jokingly as he tried to reach around their father.

“Shut it, Fishface,” Virgil warned. “We don’t question good things!”

“Don’t get too used to it,” Alan coughed as he reached for a Kleenex to blow his nose.

“Alright, c’mon. Let your brother get some rest,” Jeff said, as he watched Alan’s eyes close.

Virgil rested his hand lightly on Alan’s shoulder. “I’ll check on you in a little while, okay?”

“Mmm,” Alan mumbled, and he was out within seconds.

“He’s wiped,” Scott frowned as they each exited the infirmary.

“Rest is the best thing for him,” Jeff added as they headed toward the office. “I better go update John on the latest and let him know to pack up.”

“Pack up?” Scott asked, confused.

“Brains was already planning on heading up to Thunderbird 5 today with a few software updates to the ship. I saw him on my way to the infirmary this morning and let him know Alan was sick. He offered to take over for a few days so John could be here to help out,” Jeff explained. “I told him we’d be fine, but Brains insisted.”

“Johnny’s coming down for a few days? That should be fun,” Gordon smiled devilishly.

“Gordon,” Jeff cautioned.

“What?” the redhead asked innocently. “I wasn’t going to do anything. I’m just excited to see the guy, that’s all, geesh.”

Virgil raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Sure, you were.”

“You have to convince John to leave first,” Scott said. “You know how he is about his rotations up there.”

“He’d be skipping out to see Alan,” Gordon added. “Just lead with that.”

-TB-

“So, the Sprout is sick?” John asked.

“Virgil said it looks to be mostly viral, but he’s keeping an eye on him,” Jeff reassured.

“Are you sure Brains wants to swap?” John asked apprehensively.

“Positive, John. He insisted. Plus, even if we don’t need the extra hand, it’ll be nice to have you five all earthbound again.”

John smiled. “It has been a while, hasn’t it? Even if the kid is sick.”

“Let’s just hope your brother will get over this bug quickly,” Jeff said, hopeful.

John studied his father’s features on the screen in front of him. “You don’t think he will? I thought Virgil said it was just viral.”

“He did,” Jeff exhaled. “Just a feeling, I guess. Your little brother tends to make me worry. Don’t mind me.”

John smirked in understanding. “I get it, Dad. So, how long do I have until Brains heads up here?”

“A couple of hours. Brains is loading Three as we speak with his equipment and extra supplies.”

“F.A.B. Tell Alan I hope he feels better, and I’ll see him tonight,” John acknowledged.

“Will do. See you soon, John,” Jeff smiled and disconnected the call. Leaning back in his desk chair, Jeff looked across the pictures on his desk. His eyes landed on an image of his sons at Alan’s graduation. A sense of nostalgia filled him as he remembered the day vividly. The patriarch tried to push his feelings of worry aside. After all, Alan was just sick with a cold. There was nothing to worry about.

TBC…

Lost and Found (Seventeen)

Get some tissues ready, folks. 

MASTERLIST HERE

**************

It had been three days. 

Three days of calling Tony and the phone going right to voicemail, three days of reconnecting with Stevie, three days of pre- war memories coming back sometimes in a trickle that made James smile, sometimes in a shock wave that sent the soldier to his knees with a migraine. 

Three days, and James’s head spun trying to keep it all together, trying to keep it all straight, trying to piece together all the parts of who he had been and who he was now and how it all reconciled with the nightmares and horror that came back full force without Tony by his side. 

Three days, and sometimes James wished he could lose track of time like he used to so each and every second wouldn’t be so crystal clear, so clarifying and so real.

Three days and sometimes it was already too much. 

Three days and sometimes the moments were so good they hurt.

“I still can’t believe it’s actually you.” Three days and seventy damn years and Steve was proving he hadn’t ever lost the habit of lurking in James’s door, hands in his pockets and eyes wide as he watched the brunette clean up in the bathroom. “Holy hell, Buck. I looked for you for so long. And you were just hanging out with Howard’s kid? Three days ago Tony Stark walked into my apartment with a picture of you and just like that, here you are. I can’t believe it.” 

“Can’t believe it either, Stevie.” James rinsed the shaving cream off his face and smoothed his right hand over the trimmed-but-not-quite-shaved stubble. It had only been three days since Tony had dropped him off and left without a word. Three days of a lot of wondering and a lot of worrying and a lot of disbelief because it was Stevie--- “How did I miss your star spangled ass getting pulled outta the ocean and set loose overseas again?” 

“Well, you weren’t around to see me go in the ice the first time, so I guess it makes sense you missed me coming back this time around.” The smile slid from Steve’s face, his mouth pulling down at the corners. “Listen, Buck I dunno what you heard about all that. About the Valkyrie and the Red Skull and what I did at the end of the war but--”” 

“I heard enough to know you’re overdue for an ass whoopin’.” James retorted and see? This was good enough to hurt, easy enough to almost be instinct. Threatening Steve with bodily harm cos the punk hadn’t learned any lessons back when he was all of four fuckin’ feet tall and he certainly hadn’t learned them after they juiced him up and sometimes the brash blond just needed a reminder to chill the hell out? 

Easy. 

James could do this all day. 

“What the hell were you thinkin’, putting the damn plane in the ice anyway.” He teased. “Everyone knows your scrawny ass can’t swim.” 

Instantly predictably Steve straightened up and set his jaw and snapped, “Hey! I know how to swim! I am an excellent swimmer!” 

“You know how’ta drown.” James corrected and then oofed theatrically loud when he was yanked out of the bedroom and into a wrestling match. 

It was easy and it was good and none of James’s more scary instincts came forward when Steve got him into a headlock, the urge to break didn’t show up overwhelming when he tossed the blond halfway across the room then jumped over and pinned him to the floor. 

“Say Uncle.” James ordered and he was laughing, not counting how many pounds of pressure it would take to crumble Steve’s bones between his fingers. “Damn you, Stevie. Say Uncle before I gotta hurt you!” 

“I’m goddamn--” Steve was huffing and puffing trying to get James off of him. “Captain America-- I don’t cry Uncle-- good god, why do you weigh so much?-- to any one!” 

“Sure you don’t.” James grinned and lay harder on his best friend. “Y’know what this reminds me of?” 

“If you say it’s like the time I tried to beat up the alter boy--” 

“--it’s just like th’time you tried to beat up the alter boy.” James confirmed, batting away Steve’s hand when the blond made a grab for his throat. “In fact, I feel like I sat on you exactly like this to keep ya from gettin’ your butt beat with a hymnal.” 

“Damn it.” Steve wheezed a few times, then finally managed the leverage to shove James off and to the side. “Why are you so heavy? Last time we wrestled I destroyed you.” 

“Last time we wrestled you were super juiced and I was still a good ol’ boy from the poor end of Brooklyn.” James jumped to his feet and hauled Steve up next to him. “Least now the playing field is even.” 

“I guess.” Steve went for a beer and tossed one to James. “I hate that it’s the case though. M’glad to see you, but I hate seein’ you like this, you know?” 

“Don’t.” James tore the top off the beer and shook his head. “I don’t wanna talk about it yet, Stevie.” 

“Alright.” Steve took a sip of his beer and nodded like ignoring the elephant of the Winter Soldier in the room wasn’t making him half insane. He should just be happy to have Bucky back, he should just be happy to have his friend back, they didn’t have to talk about everything bad yet. “Alright, well have you heard about World Wrestling Entertainment on TV?” 

“World Wrestling…” 

“WWE?” Steve’s goofy grin almost split his face. “They dress up in funky costumes and wrestle each other with all these fancy moves. I watch it on Saturday nights. We could watch it and drink beer and yell at the TV and then try the moves on each other!” 

James fought and lost against an equally goofy grin. “That’s what Captain America does on Saturday night? Watch fake wrestling and drink beer?” 

“When I’m not out blowing buildings up and hurting people until they told me how to find you.” Steve took a long drink of his beer, blue eyes glittering with a flash of anger. “But I found you, so now I get to watch bad television and try to get drunk with my best pal.” 

“Sounds like a good time.” James raised his bottle in a cheers, and when Steve turned to head towards the living room, James picked up his phone and sent a quick message to Tony. 

From James: Three days with Stevie has been great, Tony but I sure wish you’d call me back. Pep says you’re probably just giving us space but I don’t want space from you. Call me back.

“Buck!” 

“Comin’, Stevie.” 

*****************

*****************

79%

The sunrise from the top of the Eiffel Tower was incredible to see and Tony watched it while munching on possibly the freshest, most delicious croissant he could have ever imagined eating ever. 

He’d been to France a hundred times, he’d even been to Paris and the Eiffel Tower specifically a hundred times but he’d never broken the sound barrier while coming in for a landing that had him on very tip toes at the very tip top so he could test the absolute balance of the suit while eating a breakfast he’d bought with a Rolex for since he never had any cash on him.

The croissant was worth the Rolex though, the look on the vendor’s face when Iron Man landed in front of his stall completely priceless and the view of the sun coming up over the city would have only been worth more if someone had been there to share it with. 

“Sir, the hotel is calling. They want to know if you will be staying another night.” 

“Tell them no.” Tony shook his head and crammed the last bite of croissant into his mouth. “Three days in France is enough, I saw the coast and the city and the countryside so it’s time to move on. I read in a pamphlet that there are something like twenty thousand castles in Germany, is that true?” 

“Most have been converted to hotels and museums by now, but yes sir, there are several thousand that you could visit if you wanted.” 

“I want.” Tony decided. “Let’s get a map and go sight seeing.” 

“Sir, the effort of assembling and disassembling this particular suit--” 

“Yeah, I know.” Tony interrupted. “It stresses my system too much. But I’ve never just traveled for the sake of traveling and the best way to do that is at some number with Mach in front of it. Plug in some coordinates and let’s go.”  

“And the phone calls from Sergeant Barnes and Ms. Potts?” 

“Send Pepper a message and let her know I’m just fine.” The sun lit up the grounds below the Tower and Tony took a deep breath of early morning air. “I’ve disappeared for longer doing much worse than sight seeing, let her know this isn’t anything like the last time I did a tour around Europe.” 

“And Sergeant Barnes?” 

“Tell James--” Tony closed his eyes and swallowed. “Tell Bucky that I hope he’s enjoying his time with Captain Rogers and that I’ll get in contact with him when I return home.” 

“An estimated return date, sir?” 

The face plate snapped down and locked and Tony blinked a few times as the display screens filled in, the numbers uploaded from the blood toxicity monitor bright red along the bottom right hand side. 

79%

“A couple weeks, maybe.” he muttered, and then louder, “No, don’t bother with a return date. Just tell him I’ll call him when I’m home again.” 

“Yes sir. To castles, then?” 

“To castles.” The suit powered up with a roar, and Tony offered a quick salute to the crowd gathered down below with their phones and cameras out. “Maybe we’ll ever get lucky and find a dragon.” 

“I think you’ve fought enough battles for one life time, sir” 

Tony’s smile was a little melancholy. “You’d think so, huh?” 

****************

****************

From James: Got the message from JARVIS and I hope you’re back home soon. I’m feeling more like myself every day, all my memories coming back. Some days it feels incredible and some days it feels like I’m living a strangers life, but me and Stevie are figuring it out together. 

From James: Do you ever watch WWE? Stevie loves it and has a bunch recorded...or TV’ed? I dunno. Anyway. He says he would be Hollywood Hulk Hogan if he ever went into the ring and I told him there’s no way he could grow a mustache like that, then he punched me. 

From James: The dude’s a punk whether he’s pint sized or full sized. 

From James: Miss ya, sweet thing. 

“The best thing about this century is the food.” Steve said around a mouthful of deep dish supreme pizza. “Not only can I eat everything without getting sick, but everything is so damn good. Deep dish pizza in two dozen flavors. Chocolate milk-- have you had chocolate milk yet, Buck? And mozzarella sticks? They just deep fry cheese! Just deep fry it and then serve it to ya with a bunch of sauce. The other day I ate about a hundred of them and didn’t get a stomach ache. Incredible. And oh man donuts.” 

The big blond picked up another piece and folded it in half so he could take a big bite. “Have you had donuts yet? So many flavors. All of them delicious.”

“Tony took me to get donuts a few weeks ago.” James checked his phone again and then one more time. It had been nine days now since he’d last seen Tony, his text messages going unanswered and phone calls dumped to voicemail. Nine days and even though every second spent with Steve gave James something of himself back, every second spent away from Tony cost him something too and it was a delicate balance between wanting and losing and James hated it. 

“We ate them up inside that big donut down by the pier in Malibu.” he continued and Steve mumbled interested around a glob of cheese. “It was uh-- it was his birthday and he said he’d always wanted to sit up in the donut so I boosted him up. It was a good day.” 

“Tony knows about the super serum.” Steve ventured and James made a vague ‘I guess’ motion. “Did he know about it before all this?”

“Don’t think so, or at least he never said nothing.” James picked off a bunch of pepperoni and tossed it away, then smiled begrudgingly when Steve immediately scarfed it up. “You still eat like you’re starvin’, Stevie. You used’ta do that all the time.” 

“Yeah, and you used to pretend like you were never hungry so there was always more for me.” Steve helped himself to the rest of the pepperoni on number two of their three large sized pizzas. “Even after I got all Captain’d up. You doing that now?” 

“Maybe I’d eat my fair share if you’d stop eatin’ so fast.” James scowled and slapped Steve’s hand away from another piece. “M’hungry too, you know!” 

“Sorry.” Steve put both hands up peacefully, then lightning fast snatched at the last of their two dozen bread sticks. “Okay, now I’m sorry. I swear. Tell me more about Tony though, you don’t talk much about him. Is he a lot like Howard?” 

“No.” James said shortly. “No, he’s nothing like Howard.” 

He was quiet after that and Steve chewed through a bite slowly and took his time to swallow before asking, “Buck, should we talk about--” 

“When did you start feeling like you fit in?” James cut in and Steve took it for the hint it was. Bucky did not want to talk about Tony yet and Steve didn’t really know why but he knew better than to push. “When did you start feelin’ like you weren’t just pretending to be normal?” 

“About a week ago when you walked through that door.” Steve didn’t hesitate to answer as he pointed towards the apartment entryway. “The second I saw you I stopped feeling like I had to keep up some sort of appearance and I could just be me again. Not Captain Rogers, certainly not Captain America. Just Steve. Stevie. Didn’t have to check my strength to hug you, didn’t have to pretend I didn’t want to cry for finding you again, don’t have to act like everything’s okay when it’s not.” 

He said the last sentence pointedly, meaningfully. “You’re my best friend, Buck. You saved my ass that first time I didn’t need it at all in elementary school and every time after. You were there the first time I tried to kiss a dame, coached me through the uh--” he coughed. “--mechanics the first time I was with a dame. Dunno how that all worked though, seeing as how you weren’t ever interested in what was up their skirts.” 

“I found my way up there a time or two.” James smiled a tiny bit remembering those first awkward, fumbling times with the girls around the neighborhood. He’d been young and fuckin’ horny and even though he found himself looking at the fellas more often than not, the girls sure liked his blue eyes and swagger so that’s the direction James had leaned. A learning experience for sure, one that taught him how to please a dame and that dames weren’t the ones he wanted to be pleasing all in the same swoop. 

“Well either way, I could always be myself around you.” Steve finished with a half hearted shrug. “And it’s the same now. I’ve been outta the ice for three years and this is the first time I’ve felt like I wasn’t pretending. Right here with you.” 

“Three years, huh?” James’s heart sank thinking about years of never feeling normal outside of time with Steve and Tony, years of catching himself before acting, years of dealing with internal dialogue that rang like hollow commands and the instinct to first destroy and then run from anything that made him uncomfortable. “M’real sorry about that, Stevie.” 

“It’s alright.” Steve put the pizza down and wiped his hands. “I never fit in back then anyway, Buck. Not when I was skinny and scrawny and orphaned after Ma passed, not when I was super charged and wearing tights. At least in this century I’m not the biggest guy in any room, there’s entire sports teams my size and bigger. No one outside of SHIELD knows I can bench press a helicopter, but I’ve been called one of those ‘corn fed midwestern boys’ at least a half dozen times and I’m not sure what exactly it means, but it sounds All American and normal so I’ve been letting it go.” 

“Sure, I gotta pace myself on my morning runs so no one gets suspicious, and I’ve gotta be careful shaking peoples hands. I nod and smile through a lot of conversations cos I dunno what a tweet is or why JT brought Sexy Back or why it left or nothing. but hell Buck.” Steve grinned again, all boyish charm and nearly unbridled enthusiasm just like he’d always been. “If that’s the worst I gotta do to get by as normal? Then it’s fine by me.” 

“And with you I just don’t gotta pretend even that amount, so it’s nice.” Steve tapped at his chest, right over his heart. “It’s like being able to take a full breath in after battlin’ a cold all season.” 

And after a pause, “Don’t you feel like that with me?” 

James shoved most of his pizza into his mouth just to avoid answering for a minute, unsure how to tell his best friend that every time he heard the words Captain America something went tense and tight inside him, a trigger like a warning, like a mission, like an objective that had blared loud the first time they spoke. The reaction had been almost impossible to ignore at first, but had finally started to ease the in the last few days and it made him sick to his stomach. 

He didn’t understand why Stevie of all people would make him itch. This was his best friend, his best pal, and James shouldn’t feel anything but happy around Steve. Comfortable. Home. Not having to fight the instinct to go of the offensive every time he saw that damn shield. 

It was frustrating and disheartening and even thought it waned a little more every day, James still hated it. It was just another reminder that he wasn’t Bucky anymore, that there were parts of him Steve would never know and never understand. 

Tony knew those parts though.

Tony knew him. 

Tony knew James. 

“Buck?” Steve asked, soft and a little hurt but trying hard to hide it. “Do you feel like that with me?” 

“I don’t have to pretend with you, Stevie.” James clenched his left fist just to prove it and the beer bottle shattered in his palm, spilling glass all over. “Don’t gotta be careful when we wrestle or worry about sayin’ the wrong thing or keeping up on all the technology. But--” 

“--but there’s a whole bunch about you I don’t know anymore.” Steve finished resignedly. “And a lot about me you don’t know anymore. What happened after you fell changed me and what happened while I was in the ice changed you and I’ve been living one life for three years while you’ve still been putting pieces together…” 

He nodded. “I get it. It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

“Sorry, Stevie.” James closed his eyes and wished and wished and wished that he was still Bucky. Just Bucky. Just good ol’ boy Bucky who pulled Steve out of back alley fights and hid stolen kisses from nameless faces in the dark. 

Life was so much simpler back then...

...simpler and hidden and filled with so much less laughter and love.

James didn’t want to be hidden anymore. Not now that he knew what it felt like to be found. 

From James: Tomorrow Stevie wants to take me to a baseball game, turns out the Yankees still play so we’re gonna get hot dogs and cracker jacks and boo the visiting team like we used to. Would be more fun if you were there. 

From James: Miss ya, sweet thing. 

*************

*************

86% 

“Tony.” Pepper looked up in outright shock along with every other board member who had never seen Tony Stark on time for anything much less for a quarterly board meeting. “Um. Hi?” 

“Don’t mind me, Ms. CEO.” Tony slid into the chair next to Pepper and patted at her knee. “I just figured I could make an appearance for once. As the on-staff mechanic for Stark Industries I am very interested in board meetings. Please continue, don’t let me interrupt.” 

“Al...right.” Pepper blinked at least a thousand times, then cleared her throat and mentioned for the person at the front of the conference room to keep talking. “Sorry for the interruption, please continue.” 

The meeting droned on, and Tony lasted all of two minutes and four seconds before patting at Pepper’s knee again and whispering, “Hey. You’re allergic to strawberries.” 

“Yes.” she whispered back. “Yes, I am but what does that have to do with why you’ve suddenly decided for once in your life to show up for a board meeting?” 

“Because every year I get you something strawberry themed for your birthday.” he leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “Because all I manage to remember is there is something important to you about strawberries but this year, I remembered that you’re allergic and that’s why you always do that cute scrunch nose that means you’re pissed off but trying to be polite.” 

“...you are one hundred percent correct.” 

“And I am one hundred percent sorry for taking like fourteen years to figure it out.” Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, pressed it into Pepper’s palm beneath the table. “But I couldn’t resist buying you one last strawberry.” 

“One last strawberry?” she muttered and Tony nodded. “So this will be the last time you buy me something I’m incredibly and ugly-allergic to? You promise?” 

“I promise this will be the last time--” the very last time. “--I buy you something you’re incredibly allergic to.” Tony swore. “And by the way? You’re never ugly. Not once in your entire life have you been ugly.” 

“I feel like you’re sucking up to compensate for being gone for two weeks with no word.” Pepper hissed, then raised a hand apologetically when several heads swiveled their way. “And another damn strawberry isn’t going to make up for the fact that I’ve been worried sick for-- Holy shit, is that real?!” 

Whispering forgotten, Pepper clapped her hand over her mouth when she cursed out loud in the meeting over the sight of this particular strawberry. “Tony Stark what the fuck?!” 

“Uh, forgive us guys.” Tony laughed and put a hand over Pepper’s mouth too. “And I’m just now realizing how embarrassing it is that I don’t know any of your names considering you’ve been my board members for the past twenty years, but you’ll have to excuse the new CEO. Apparently there are some things that do rattle the always unflappable Ms. Potts.” 

“Yeah!” Pepper blurted. “Like when I’ve got my hand on a ridiculously big--” Tony snorted a laugh and Pepper jumped to her feet to drag him out of the board room while calling apologies over her shoulder. 

“Tell me, Ms. Potts.” Tony asked once they were in his her office. “What ridiculously big thing do you have your hand on?” 

“Tony, what is this?” Pepper opened the box again and held up the beautiful huge ring. “Is this a pink diamond? Why--” 

“This is the Strawberry Pink Diamond.” Tony took the ring and slipped it onto Pepper’s middle finger. “It’s out of Brazil. Do you like it?” 

“The last strawberry thing you’re going to buy me is a strawberry diamond?” Pepper’s voice was still doing that high pitched squeaky thing. “Tony, what is this for?” 

“It’s because I love you.” he said simply, and tossed the box onto her desk. “And because the ring was ridiculously over priced which meant I had to have it and I couldn’t think of anyone else who would look half this pretty wearing it.” 

“It’s so big.” For all her practicality, Pepper couldn’t help gaping at the arrangement, at the beautifully pink center diamond and the contrasting blue gems around it. “Tony, seriously what the hell, it’s so big. It’s like an iceberg! I can’t even see where the Titanic hit it! What is this, four carats?” 

“Almost exactly.” Tony smiled to himself watching Pepper smile so big. “Do you like it?” 

“Well I can promise to never complain about strawberries again if this is what you mean!” Pepper flushed in pleasure, holding her hand up to the light to watch the sun sparkle off the stones. “And I’ll also never complain about you disappearing if you always bring me back sparkly things.” 

“The next time I disappear, I’ll bring you back sparkly things.” Tony promised, swallowing around the grief clawing up his throat. “Now how about you step off those sky scrapers you call shoes and give me a kiss so I can go home and shower. The trip back from Brazil was a sweaty one.” 

“You’re disgusting.” Pepper laughed softly and bent down to kiss Tony very gently on the lips. “And I take off my heels for no one, Mr. Mechanic. Not now that I’m the CEO.” 

“That’s my girl.” Tony laughed right back, then picked up her hand and kissed her palm. “The ring looks better on you than it ever did on display in that jewelry store. Keep it. Wear it all the time.” 

“Thank you.” Pepper pulled Tony in for a tight hug. “I’ve been worried about you, are you okay? After you got James together with Captain Rogers you just fell off the map. I’ve been worried.” 

“Well I’m just fine now that I’m squished in your boobs.” Tony mumbled and Pepper jabbed at his side with a quick, “Oh shut up, you don’t even like boobs.” 

“Pepper, everyone likes your boobs.” He countered and she huffed and pushed him away. “How late are you in meetings tonight?” 

“At least another couple hours.” Pepper smoothed the wrinkles from her suit. “And don’t think I don’t see you dodging the question about James. Dinner tonight and we can talk about it?” 

“I owe Rhodey a grossly big steak, but we can have breakfast tomorrow?” 

“Of course. I’ll make you something delicious.” 

“You’ll have donuts with me and not complain when the cream filling splooges on your blouse.” He countered and Pepper sighed. “Love you.” 

“I love you too.” Pepper paused at the board room door and blew him a kiss. “I’m glad you’re home again, Tony.” 

“Me too, Pep. Me too.” 

86%

****************** 

******************

James woke screaming-- 

--James woke trying to scream, shredding the blankets between his fists and arching up off the bed and then something pinned him down and he tried to scream louder--

“Bucky!” Steve was shouting at him, grabbing at his arms and laying all his not inconsiderable weight across the other soldier. “Bucky! Wake up! It’s a nightmare, bud! It’s a nightmare, just wake up!” 

It was cold and James was scared. It was cold and he was falling. It was cold and it hurt so bad when they took his arm, when they cut torn tendons and sawed away splintered bone and it was cold when they shoved him into a container and it was cold cold cold as the ice climbed the window and silenced his scream and--

“Bucky.” 

James jerked awake, surged forward and grabbed for Tony, “Tony?!” 

“Hey hey hey, it’s me. It’s Stevie. It’s me.” 

It was blue eyes not dark brown. Blonde hair not soft curls. Mouth set in a grim line instead of lips parted laughing. 

It was Steve, not Tony.

“Stevie.” James fell forward and collapsed into Steve’s arms, let his friend take his weight and soothe his shaking. “Jesus Christ.” 

“What is it?” Steve ran his hands through James’s hair, across the broad shoulders, skittering away from the hard edge of metal to press at James’s back instead. “What was that? Was it like--” he swallowed. “--was it like after Azzano when you had nightmares? About what they did to you at the camp?” 

“No.” 

“Winter Soldier stuff then.” Steve nearly whispered, and James nodded almost imperceptibly into his shoulder. “The-- the chair they kept you in? The cryo chamber?” 

“Fuckin’ cold, Stevie.” 

“Yeah.” Steve felt around for a blanket and drew it up around James’s shoulders. “Yeah, I know how that feels.”

They hadn’t really talked about it, about James’s time with Hydra. Steve had confirmed only enough to explain the flashes James got, the tactical knowledge and the way he could measure potential injuries with just a glance. Steve had mentioned the chair, which explained the panic attack in Tony’s lab. He talked about the memory wipes and the cryo freeze and the way they’d used James for decades which is why his memory and concept of time was all over the place. 

Steve hadn’t talked about the missions. He swore on the Bible, on puttin’ flowers on their Ma’s graves, on the time they’d gone on the Cyclone and Stevie had barfed for hours-- he swore he hadn’t read the files, promised Natasha had burned them all the ash, told James over and over that it wasn’t about what he’d done as their prisoner, as their captor. It wasn’t even about what had been done to James, it was about him being safe and about him being home. 

So no, they hadn’t really talked about it, nothing more than a few confirmations of James’s fears and then the topic had been dropped. 

Why dwell on the past when they both somehow had a new future? Why stress about all the things they couldn’t control when they finally had the chance to move on?

No, they hadn’t really talked about it, nothing more than just enough to bring James’s nightmares back and Steve felt guilty about it every time. 

“I shouldn’t have told you.” he started and James shook his head, “I needed the answers, Stevie. Needed them. It’s okay.” 

 “You want some hot chocolate?” 

“Want some cheeseburgers.” James grunted. “Want a damn cheeseburger.” 

“Okay where from--” 

“I got a guy.” 

From James: Happy, I need a burger.

From Happy: I’m already a glass of wine deep into my evening and watching my Downton Abby, what in the hell am I supposed to do about that?

From James: I need a CHEESEburger.

From Happy: I’ll call a guy who knows somebody. Give me an hour. 

An hour later there was a polite knock at Steve’s apartment door, and the fanciest dressed delivery guy either of them had ever seen smiled, handed over a greasy bag of cheeseburgers from James’s favorite franchise, then turned on an expensive heel and stalked away. 

“Uh Buck?” Steve held up the bag in confusion. “Why did we get cheeseburgers delivered by some guy in a penguin suit?” 

“Happy knows a guy who knows somebody.” James was freshly showered and feeling better, but he felt better better when he could flop down on the couch and tear into the food. “Have one Stevie, they’re so good.” 

“...what’s with the cheeseburgers?” Steve sat down slowly and reached for one of the paper wrapped sandwiches. “Why does it seem like a big thing?” 

“It’s Tony’s thing.” James explained, wiping ketchup from his mouth. “Or Happy’s thing for Tony, I dunno. Something about how any time Tony’s having a hard time, he wants cheeseburgers and it’s Happy’s job to get them. Pep has a bad day, Happy grabs some cheeseburgers. Rhodey--” 

“Rhodey. You mean Colonel James Rhodes?” 

“--Rhodey.” James nodded. “Rhodey even gets them, and the first time me and Happy hung out, he got ‘em for me too. They make me feel better.” 

“Alright.” Steve took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Buck, you don’t ever talk about Tony. I mean, you talk about him but you never come right out and say anything real. Why not?” 

“Why does it matter?” 

“Cos I watched you hide for years.” Steve said bluntly, and James flushed. “I watched you sneak out way late at night to meet someone and then see the same person in the daylight and act like you’d never seen them before. I watched you dance with the dames just so you didn’t have to stand alone at the wall. I watched you hide and now we’re both here in a time where you don’t have to hide…” 

Steve let the sentence dangle, but James didn’t answer. “M’just sayin’ Buck. The man that showed up here cared an awful lot about you, and I can see it your eyes you care about him. I sorta thought you’d have a damn wedding ring on your finger when you came in, or figured I’d get a hug then you two would run off into the sunset. So why don’t you talk about him?” 

A beat of silence, and Steve added awkwardly, “Is it-- I mean, you ain’t ashamed, are you? You don’t have to be ashamed, Buck. I know the neighborhood fellas were real assholes back in the day but it’s okay now, you know? People are okay with all of that now, with fellas liking fellas and-- girls-- you know.” 

He spread his hands vaguely. “Or anyway, most people are, and we can just punch the ones who aren’t.”  

“M’not ashamed, Stevie.” James denied. “Just uh-- “ he chuckled softly. “You know how I used to punch you if you’d come and try to talk to me about Peggy? Figure you’d do the same thing if I told you about how me and Tony get in bed.” 

“I definitely don’t want to hear how you and Howard’s kid are in bed.” Steve immediately objected, and then softer, “But I loved Pegs and I feel like what you and Tony have got is more along those lines too, yeah? So why haven’t you talked to me about him?” 

“Stevie.” James bit at his tongue until it bled-- and then healed-- as he tried not to think of the dozens of messages he’d sent in the last weeks, the phone calls that hadn’t been answered, the way Pepper had texted to let him know Tony was in Malibu but was buried in some project in the lab and barely talking to anyone, not to take it personally. 

But James was taking it personally because he physically ached to get Tony back in his arms. Because every morning he woke up in Steve’s spare bedroom instead of Tony’s bed felt awful. Because he felt like he was hiding away again instead of being free in the pure sunshine that was Tony’s smile. 

He was miserable and maybe even a little heart broken and missed Tony until he hurt from it. 

Steve was his best friend but Tony had found him.

“He found me, Stevie.” James whispered and the Captain stilled next to him. “Tony he-- he found me. I was nothing and I was nobody and Tony saw me from across the room and found me. I didn’t even know my last name or how long I’d been homeless or what the hell I was doing in D.C. and Tony didn’t care. He found me and he saw me. He saw me.” 

“He gave me a home.” James opened and closed his left hand, silver fingers gleaming. “Put me back together. My body, my heart-- hell Stevie, I think he gave me my mind back.” 

“So why haven’t you talked about him?” Steve pressed. “Buck if he found you and gave you a home why aren’t you two goin’ after a happily ever after together? Been long enough in the making, don’t you want it?” 

“Course I want it, but Tony hasn’t talked to me since he brought me here.” James tightened his fingers into a fist. “He’s not answering my calls, he’s not getting my texts and I don’t know what’s going on. Sure seems like what I want and what he wants are different things.” 

“No way.” Steve denied. “No way. He probably just figured we’d need the time to catch up. Seventy years apart makes for a lot of conversation, Buck. Maybe Tony thinks he’s doing you a favor or is bein’ subtle so it’s not awkward if you decide you want to stay here or whatever.” 

“There’s nothing subtle about Tony.” James disagreed. “Nothing subtle or tactful or-- or anything like that, not when he’s being funny, not when he’s being nice. Hell Stevie, the first time we were together he sat me down and just told me he wanted to take me to bed, or wanted me to take him to bed, whichever I preferred. He told off some high and mighty politician who looked at me wrong and I-- I know he’s sick.” 

“I know he’s sick.” James finished on a sigh. “That’s why I’m so worried. He’s probably at the doctors at the hospital and ditched me here with you so I wouldn’t have to see him go through it. He lied to me about it all the time and I can’t even be made about it cos he was doing it so I wouldn’t worry. Me and Ms. Potts and Rhodey and Happy.” 

“So he’s not being subtle about letting you stay here, he’s being pretty damn obvious that you should stay here.” Steve clarified. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s it.” James’s pale eyed dimmed in distress. “Half of me thinks I should show up and force him to talk to me. The other half knows I should let him work through it how he wants. I’m just worried. I had enough of watchin’ you almost die every winter Stevie, I don’t want to do it with Tony too.”

"...exactly how sick is Tony?” Steve asked slowly. “Cos I over heard Fury and Natasha talking about him the other day and they sounded worried too.” 

“I don’t like Fury, Steve. He’s got too many secrets.”

“Yeah, even his trench coat’s got secrets, I know.” Steve pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “And I dunno why he was talking about Tony, but let’s just call and ask. No worries. We’ll figure it out.” 

No worries, Steve said like there wasn’t anything strange about a man like Fury talking with a woman like Natasha about Tony. 

No worries, Steve said like James could ignore the uncomfortable that had crawled down his spine the first time Fury had shown up and looked him over with his one good eye and made an unimpressed noise in his throat while patting at his gun with his free hand.

No worries, Steve said like James had been able to sleep at all the last several  weeks knowing Tony was out there who knows where and alone and ignoring calls and messages--

“Captain Rogers. I thought you’d be too busy with your boyfriend to report in for duty.” 

“I’m not reporting in for duty.” Steve said blandly, and then almost belatedly, “Oh and Buck isn’t my boyfriend. Sheesh. No we wanna know why you and Nat were talking about Tony the other day. Bucky hasn’t heard from him in a few weeks.” 

“No one has heard from Stark in a few weeks.” Fury answered shortly. “The guy’s been finalizing his will and naming beneficiaries and spending the last couple weeks sight seeing everything the world has to offer. You can’t expect a dying man to keep up on text messages.” 

Silence in the apartment, and Steve turned wide, horrified eyes to James. 

“...what did he say.” James whispered in disbelief. “What did he say about Tony dying?” 

“Director can you repeat--” 

“Romanov gave him a shot in the neck the day he barged into your life, but it wasn’t meant to last long term. You telling me the world’s best soldier and your best friend Mega Scary Assassin didn’t notice the black lines all over his chest and crawling up his neck?” 

“Tony is dying?” 

“Palladium poisoning thanks to that battery in his chest.” Fury had the good grace to at least sound somewhat apologetic about dropping the news so unexpectedly. “Rogers, Barnes, I really thought you two knew. Figured you were giving him space to die in peace.” 

Silence silence silence and then the sound of something breaking and Fury waited a beat before asking, “You still there?” 

“I need transportation to Malibu for Buck!” Steve sounded like he was running now, breathing hard as he pounded down the stairs and out of his apartment building. “I need it now! Something fast!” 

“Pick up location?” Fury asked over the noise of horns honking and someone screaming in alarm. “Rogers? Where are you and Barnes?” 

“Bucky took off running down the goddamn freeway.” Steve shouted. “He’s going too fast for me to keep up--” 

“--Shit, I didn’t think anyone could outrun your spangled ass--” 

“--I need a craft for pick up as soon as possible! Give me an ETA!” 

“I can have something airborne from HQ in two minutes. What’s his current position?” 

“Running along the top of the bus past the bridge at fourth?” 

“Oh motherfuck--” 

*************

************* 

“Sir?” 

Tony’s hands were shaking as he picked up the blood monitor, and he hissed in pain when his nearly fried nerves lit up in agony over the tiny prick. 

“Sir, if I could interrupt?” 

“Jesus Christ.” Tony’s legs gave out and he slumped back into a nearby chair, one hand over his heart, the other clutched tight around the monitor. “J-- what-- what--” 

He was panting, sweating, hardly able to take a breath without his chest seizing, the black lines at the reactor and his neck trailing down his arms and almost to his fingers now. His vision went blurry if he stared for more than a few minutes, he was constantly thirsty and damn near dehydrated and the little bit of food he’d managed the last few nights had ended with him stumbling back to the bathroom and vomiting until stars burst behind his temples. 

He was so scared. 

“J--” 

“Sir, Sergeant Barnes is on his way up the drive.” 

“...what?” 

“A distinctly non civilian air craft dropped him off in the street and he is up the steps and nearly at the door. Should I allow him in?” 

“Please…” Tony’s head lolled back as he tried to breathe. “J, please--” 

“Tony?” A shout from upstairs and pounding footsteps as the soldier ran down the stairs to the lab. “Tony? Sweet thing?” 

“Thank god.” Tony managed only a glimpse of pale blue eyes and silver fingers before his vision went black. “James--” 

“Tony!” 

...The blood monitor slipped out of Tony’s hand and fell to floor flashing a steady ninety-one percent.

...91% and when James reached for Tony, the beautiful brunette was too cold, too still, barely breathing.

...“Tony?” 

91%

**************

Chapter Notes: 

Tony sits still for 2 mins and 4 seconds because the IM2 run time is 2 hours, 4 mins. 

I didn’t want to skip the strawberry part of the movie, but I like my version better. THIS is Pepper’s ring and honestly, I totally want one. 

I grew up watching WWF/WWE and I will probably watch it till the day I die. 

We made a purposeful decision to avoid any CACW related angst in this fic. The idea that who James/Bucky IS will always be more important than who he was, what was done to him/what they made him do and I think everyone deserves to be seen as a person first and foremost instead of their list of past mistakes and/or trauma. 

That being said, 91% is a reference to 1991, the year the MCU WS ruined Tony’s life but in this verse, the number where James comes to his rescue. 

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

*************

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @livewire28 @tulipsnbigcats @kimstark @alex-stark-rogers @bibbarnes @heeeyitskay @goindownshipping @justaniche @actual-demon-belial

@quietgayguy @bluedreamdino @akimi-youngblood @blackstar1602 @dixiehellcat @travellover1245 @capnstarkey @the-awkward-teenaged-one @thanossucks @peteryoulittleshit @tony-and-steeeb @striving-artist @roe-sesandthorns @coolsidedpillow @i-am-worth-it-25 @firelightmystic @maligatorthealigator @simsccsol @a-tardis-in-221b @happyendingrequired @everygoodoneistaken11 @pootie-and-the-snoots @megahuffledor @xkissmeimirishx @crystalskrull @hazelbeatsturtle @wecollectnightmares @endrega23 @saganarojanaolt @the-crazy-house @ravynfyre @yomama-umbridge @lovely--tony @gayspacesprinkles @elliotkaingrey @warmachinesocks @glitternotgold73 

Here we go Loopty Loo pt4

Summary: Graduation was supposed to signal the final time they all spent time together at UA, to show they have all grown into the Heros they dreamed of being.

It was supposed to be, but when has anything ever been easy for class 1-A?

pt 1

pt 3

pt 4 (HERE)

pt 5

___________________________________________

Loop #49

___________________________________________

To ask for normalcy in this class was too much, Aizawa knew this.

It was like asking it to rain gumdrops to expect these 20 idiots to behave like normal human beings for five minutes in the original timeline, and it had only gotten worse as they all fought off apathy at their time stuck just kept going.

But how Aizawa wished they would stop getting caught so he didn’t have to deal with the other teacher questioning it.

Cockatoo: Uh Shouta?

Cockatoo: Should I ask why Bakugo and Kaminari are yelling ‘Fuck your chicken strips!’ at a shellshocked Todoroki?

YallMight: I think it has to do with them finding out that Endevar and Hawks are dating.

Chloroform: THEY WHAT????

Sleepis4theweak: I wish Yagi was joking

YallMight: At least they aren’t singing ‘She thinks my tractor’s sexy’ this time.  

He glared at the tall blond he was eating lunch with, “Fuck you, I know you put them up to that.”

“No proof,”

“Shut it,”

“If I make you smile will you, forgive me?”

“Maybe,”

Yagi just grinned, “I just helped Jiro finish a parody song of Aint No Rest for the Wicked, called Aint No Rest for Endeavor, where they diss Endeavor for three minutes straight, including some… uh, classified information and are going to play it during the Cultural Festival with Shoto taking lead vocals.”

Aizawa wasn’t fast enough to stop the snort from escaping, “These fucking kids,”

“It’s better than Bakugo’s idea of writing a parody of “Fuck You” to call out Overhaul or All for One… or both.”

“As long Dabi gets a recording,” Aizawa chuckled, “I’m going to allow it.”

“You were going to allow it either way,” Yagi teased, not even batting an eye at the fact that Aizawa basically adopted the villain, “But I suppose he would like to see his younger brother roasting their father.”

Aizawa shrugged, “I’ll talk to the kids when we get back, making sure they time the parody when they have the largest crowd. I’m guessing I’m going to be on ‘Stop Endeavor from burning down the school’ detail again?”

“I can take Eri during it if you would like,”

“Nah, I’ll let Mirio handle her, she misses him anyways. They can’t make more of a scene then the Host club they held last year. ”

He glanced back down at his phone, to see the flurry of texts had continued.

BloodyMess: Why is your class full of the troublesome ones? And why haven’t you expelled any of them??

Cockatoo: Cause Sho is soft for his ‘problem children’

Chloroform: Yeah, plus they take care of his daughter like they’re her big siblings and I’ve never seen Sho look softer.

YeeHaw: Soft? Are we talking about the same man?

Cockatoo : *SmilyBoi* Read em and weep

BloodyMess: Oh shit, the dude can actually smile and not look like he’s trying to murder you

SpaceCadet: Aw, he’s wearing a bow!

Cockatoo: Eri put it in his hair, he wasn’t gonna remove it after she called him dad

Cockatoo: Oh shit

Chloroform:???

Cockatoo: Monoma said something to a table of Class 2-A kids and Shinsou appeared out of nowhere and brainwashed him. He’s now dancing to Toxic by Brittany Spears in the middle of the courtyard.

Chloroform: Omg, please say you’re recording!

Cockatoo: I am, but now Kaminari and Sero are being backup dancers

Cockatoo: Mina just had to stop Kirishima from taking off his shirt when he joined

Cockatoo: We have a full-on flash mob going on right now.

Cockatoo: Sho, come get your kids. I don’t know when they had time to choreograph this stuff but it’s not really school appropriate

BloodyMess: Aizawa, control your class

Chloroform: He’s probably trying to stop a migraine from forming

YallMight: No, he finds the whole event funny.

Cockatoo: How do you know????

Yagi smirked snapping a picture of the usually stoic teacher wheezing at the mental image of his stupid kids before the picture was texted over the group.

Chloroform: Oh? Having a picnic together, are you?

Sleepis4theweak: And? Aren’t we talking about my dumbass class?

Cockatoo: Pretty defensive there Sho, anything you want to share?

Sleepis4theweak: I have no idea what you’re talking about

Cockatoo: Come on Sho

Chloroform: Let’s change tactics

Chloroform: @YallMight are you fucking Aizawa?

YeeHaw: You trying to kill the man, Midnight?

BloodyMess: The man spits up enough blood without you being like this nem

Aizawa shot his companion a look, “Don’t you dare,”

Toshinori raised a brow, a shit-eating grin crawling onto his face, “Too late,”  

YallMight: Rawr (*ΦωΦ*)

Aizawa could hear the screaming from here, though that was probably just Mic losing control at the unexpected response from the world’s Golden Boy for all that was good and pure.

Oh, if they only know how corrupting spending 145 years with mostly horny meme teenagers is.

Aizawa couldn’t breathe at this point, putting his head down on the table they shared, gasping for breath around his gales of laughter the stitch on his side pulling. Toshi looked way too pleased with himself, as his full belly laughter echoed around them. After a minute the taller man shifts and looks away, laughter drying up almost as quickly as it had started.

Aizawa squinted up at him, “What?”

“Should we let them think we’re dating?”

Shouta felt a slight flush crawl over his cheeks as he leaned across the table, “Aren’t we?”

Yagi relaxed at the words, “I… wasn’t entirely sure where we stood on that. You know how tricky emotions are in these loops.”

Aizawa shrugged because he knew the man was right. Sexualities and attractions seemed as fluid as everything else in the loops. He’s gone through marriage, dating, divorce, breakups, flings, and hookups at this point, whether he weathered them himself or just recalled them from the memories he received from each loop. He had been romantically involved with Hizashi, Nemuri, Tensi, Oboro, Emi, and even Yagi at one point or another.

In this timeline, however, he had been devoid of any romantic attachments, his timeline memories not recalling a single long term partner, and only a handful of one night stands. His emotional attachment for the kind, gentle, flawed man went beyond anything that resembled normal, but what in their lives was normal anymore, and he wasn’t going to deny that even in the timelines where he was straight the number one hero was attractive in both forms.

He would admit that this was a loop where his physical attraction was... fairly overwhelming.

Aizawa just grasped Toshinori's hand in his own instead of answering, earning a blinding smile that made his heart flutter. If the attraction is mutual then, why not allow themselves some happiness in this mess?

His phone pinged again, his Class chat text tone… That rarely bore good things if he was tagged in it.

Sonic : *MaybeWeWentTooFar?* @dadzawa @DadMight um help?

“I’m gonna kill them,” He sighed as he opened the picture of Monoma standing on what seemed to be an ice version of Pride rock, holding Nezu aloft while most of 2-A and 2-B were kneeling at the base.

“And having them all prank you before you remember them next timeline?” Toshinori teased, puffing up as he rose from his seat, “I don’t think so.”

The homeroom teacher sighed but silently agreed. Dying before graduation seemed to dump affected loopers earlier in the loop then everyone else. They could arrive anywhere from a few hours before everyone else, to years earlier and there didn’t seem to be a set reason for how long they were sent back.  After the first three times, the class seemed to come to a silent agreement to mess with each other as much as they could during the time they spent before everyone else remembered. Aizawa was still proud to say he had the best prelooping revenge on his problem children, even if it started accidentally.

“If I told Hizashi that we were engaged, what would you do?”

The sunflower man choked slightly at the out of the blue question, coughing up a mouthful of blood as he deflated once again.

Aizawa continued walking hiding his smile into his capture weapon as he neared the courtyard.

Yagi jogged slightly after him, already puffed back up, before offering a counter with a shit-eating twinkle in his eyes, “If you dodge the question until tomorrow I can have rings by morning.”

He slipped his hand into the other’s hands in his way of answering. They were practically married anyway, pretending to have a secret engagement wasn’t gonna be hard in the slightest. Toshi even came over enough that Eri probably not question it either, and it just gave them longer to be the happiest they could be during the loops.

His hair rose as he glared at Shinsou, capture wiping out to grab Nezu away from Monama as his grip slackened as the mind control faded from his system.

The whole courtyard whirled to look at them, and Aizawa notices too late how Midoriya’s eyes flash between him and Yagi, down to their hands and over to where Mic was still filming, a straight-up evil smirk flashing for barely a second before it was perfectly covered in a scandalized mask.

“OMG AIZAWA-SENSEI ARE YOU FUCKING MY DAD?!?!?”

Welp murder was outweighing the possible embarrassment of preloop pranks. Maybe he could bribe Dabi with those embarrassing pictures Toru had taken of Endeavor...

“Young Midorya!” All Might gasped, chopping his hand through the air similarly to how Tenya would do, “That is highly inappropriate! What my fiance and I get up to in our free time is our business and our business alone!”

Make that two murders.

Definitely two murders.

___________________________________________

Taglist: @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @plaguedoctorsnake (I’m so sorry for forgetting to tag yall in pt 2)

our way

Fluff fill for: Angst: Alcoholism for @stevetonygames

Warning: Alcoholism.

Extras: Canon Ref: Please Tell Me Nobody Kissed Me, Canon Ref: I Remember, Canon Ref: Stark Men are Made of Iron, Canon Ref: It wasn't worth it, Tropes: Enemies to Lovers 

Universe: Marvel 1872

xxxx

"I wish you'd stop this, Stark, I truly do." 

"What? And vacate the drunk tank of our lord the Sheriff of Timely? Are you sure you'd rather face whoever would replace me?" 

"I'm sure it would do you good to lay off on the booze, that's what I'm sure of."

Tony grins as the Sheriff leans into the door of the cell he's once again spent the night. One would think he must hate it. One would think he'd finally take the other man's advice and be careful about his liquor intake. Nah. 

"Just, please tell me—"

"Nobody kissed you." Rogers snorts. Like he does every other day or so. 

Tony finally sits up, wincing a little bit, the headaches aren't fun but one can you do… when you go from hating the man of the local law to secretly wanting him, seeking him out, loving him. There's probably better ways to go about it, but Tony sure can't figure them out. 

"I was in there once, too, did you know that?" Rogers asks him when Tony gets up and gazes outside the barred window. 

"You were?" Tony twists around, laughter bubbling inside him at the image of his proper Sheriff sitting where a thousand drunks have sat before him. 

"Yup. Got pissed like never before. Fought a pack of rude guys over a girl. Got a split lip and a migraine for days after that." The man replies, looking sheepish as he does so, before he admits in a whisper, "It wasn't worth it." 

Tony bursts out laughing at that. Can't contain it. 

"Yeah, but you see," Tony says even though he's still wheezing for breath, "the difference between you and I is—" 

"That Stark Men are Made of Iron, I remember, Stark. No need to try and be proud of the fact that you still slept in here, again, instead of going back to your perfectly good bed." 

"How do you know my bed is perfectly good?" Tony asks, a spur of the moment thing, probably his bravest come-on thus far. It works. Rogers' cheeks flare up a deep red. 

"I…I'm, I was assuming…" the man stammers, making Tony smile that much more, and walk closer slowly. 

"Care to find out for sure?" He asks him, whispering the question like it's the greatest state secret, and, given that what he's suggesting is absolutely illegal, he figures it's needed.

Rogers blinks at him, all big blue eyes and long blonde lashes and pink cheeks and then he bites his lip, and nods.

"Well then, Sheriff," Tony straightens up, dusting his shirt and vest and marching out the door, only turning back to wink at the man before he leaves without checking if he's following, "On our way we go." 

💚🦋

Can you please write the events that led up to what happened with Henrik and Deathwiish in your drawing. Please?

You’ve got it. It isn’t pretty.

As far asanyone could tell, it was nothing but a headache. Signe wasn’t normally one toget them, but she had been fairly stressed lately with the pandemonium of thetour and jet lag weighing on her.

Even so,she had made an effort to keep her normal schedule. Jack was busy recording allday, so she had put on sunglasses and a hat with a low brim to shield her eyesfrom the penetrating sun as she took a taxi to Egos Incorporated. The Egosenjoyed her visits immensely and she wanted to see if their company would beable to lighten her spirits.

Unfortunately,it had exactly the opposite effect; they were immensely glad to see her, butthey were loud and boisterous. The noise grated on her ears and bounced aroundin her head, the dull, throbbing ache tightening on her skull until she finallyhollered at all of them to shut up and leaned her head forward into her hands,breathing heavily.

Jackieboywas the first to approach her, putting a hand on her back and saying nothingwhen she flinched at the touch. “You feelin’ alright?” he questioned in a soft tonethat she was sure he had practiced specifically for reassurance.

“No,” sheadmitted, cheeks flushing in frustration and shame when her voice caught. “I’vejust…got this headache.”

“Well, Henrikprobably has some medicine that could help—and I’m sure he’d let you lie downin the lab for a while,” he commented. “Chase, you wanna get her there andexplain?”

“Of course,no problem,” Chase agreed hurriedly, holding out a hand for her to take. Sherefused it, shrugging gingerly away from Jackieboy and murmuring somethingabout going herself as she skirted past the vlogger and stumbled down the hall.

As she’dexpected, Schneep was engrossed in one of his books when she arrived in thedoorway, leaning on its frame and looking him up and down. For reasons shecouldn’t quite pinpoint, the longer she stood there and waited for him tonotice her—the longer he ignored her—theworse her headache became. Emotion surged into her throat and she exhaledsharply, clenching her fists tightly at her sides to refute the random urge topry off one of her shoes and hurl it at him. If that would get his attention—

“Doctor?”she snapped tearfully, causing him to jump, the coffee mug in his other handsloshing.

“Oh, well,hello!” he exclaimed as he set the mug and book aside. “If it isn’t our—” Hiswords and smile faded as soon as he took in the look on her face. “Oh, my, youdo not look yourself! Come here, come here and let Dr. Schneeple have a look atyou.”

“I have aheadache,” she repeated as she flipped off a few of the lights and moved tomeet him halfway.

“Well, then, I will find a nice fix for you!” Schneep promised, cupping her cheekscomfortingly for a moment before directing her to sit in his desk chair.Sinking down gratefully, she watched as he began rifling toward the nearbymedicine cabinets, pulling off her hat and glasses and sliding them onto hisdesk. “Tell me your symptoms!” he called, his voice echoing in the room andmaking her skin crawl.

“A headache,” she repeated, dangerouslybordering a growl before she checked herself and took a breath. He was justtrying to help. “I—I’m sorry…I feel a little nauseous and the lights are reallybright. I think it’s just a migraine, but…”

As shestared down at her hands, folded tightly in her lap, she lost her train ofthought. One moment, there were words, the next—nothing. They didn’t stick inher throat; it was as if they dissolved, leaving behind nothing but a bittertaste and an unsettling sense of loss. Brows knitting in consternation, shesearched for whatever end of the sentence had been but the only words thatsurfaced made up an entirely different question.

“Was thiswhere it happened?”

“Hmm?”Schneep hummed distractedly as he scanned the label of a pill bottle.

Leaningback in the chair, she swiveled it further in his direction, leaning on one ofthe armrests to get a better look at him. “Where Anti took you.”

As soon asthe bottle hit the counter, it popped open and scattered pills in everydirection, forcing Signe to bite her lip and hide a snort of derisive laughter.The doctor’s hands hovered over them as if to sweep them back up but they wereshaking, unsure.

“N—No,” hemanaged haltingly. “It was in the different lab, the larger one…not here. The,ah, the ache in your head—where on the little pain scale would you rate it?”

“Now don’tchange the subject that quickly,” she scolded lightly. “You and I haven’ttalked about this before…I’m curious.” Where had that curiosity come from? shewondered in the back of her mind. She knew full well that Schneep hated talkingabout that day and to this point she had always done her best to respect that, butnow…

“Curiositykills the cat,” he muttered hastily as he began recollecting the pills in alittle pile.

“And Jack,”she added, matter-of-fact.

At that hewhirled around, eyes wide in utter shock. “What?”he stammered, clutching at the counter behind him with white knuckles. “Whywould you…? What are you…?”

“Did youget curious, Schneeplestein? Is that why you were poking around in Jack’s head?”

Schneepmouthed another incredulous question, shaking his head minutely and thenblinking hard. “I was trying to save him. It was brain surgery and I am hisdoctor; I was doing my job. W-Why are you asking this? I thought you came inhere for headache—”

“My headache’sgone,” she brushed that off, and indeed it was. The more her eyes raked overhim, taking in his nervousness and uncertainty, the more the pain mysteriously receded.Running her thumb idly over the veins in the dorsum of her opposite hand, shecommented, “I think I have a right to know. Were you just not fast enough toreach him or did you decide to take your time?”

“…Signe!”he gasped, aghast at the implication. “I would never—!”

The deskchair’s wheels clacked noisily against the linoleum, interrupting him. Thoughhis mouth was still open as if he were to continue, he didn’t try, watching heras she came around the desk to stand across from him. Jack himself had alwaysfound her hard to read, so Schneep had no chance of it; he could do nothing butwordlessly fidget. For a tense, lingering minute she remained completelyexpressionless and then she tilted her head.

“You knowyou can trust me, don’t you?” she questioned, her lips touched with a smile of all things. Schneep didn’t likethe look of it; as she approached, he felt an inexplicable urge to back upfurther against the counter. She noticed that and slowed her pace, lowering hervoice as if to coax a wary animal. “You dotrust me, Doctor, right?”

“Yes…yes. Itrust you…” he whispered, though the words fought every instinct in his body asanxiety prickled over the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck. Swallowinghard, he slid sideways along the counter, ready to dodge away from her, but shecaught ahold of his sleeve and drew him closer before he could think throughwhat could have followed.

“Then you knowyou can tell me what happened.” Again, Schneep shook his head at that, pursinghis lips tightly, and she huffed ruefully. “You know, Doctor, you have verybeautiful eyes.”

He had notime to reply before she moved her hands from his sleeve to his face, tossingaside his glasses and cupping his cheeks as he had done to her mere minutesago. He stiffened and jerked at the icy burn in her touch but even as heclutched at her wrists to shove her away, his hands were seared with the sameelectric heat—and then he couldn’t let go. His fingers were soldered there, nomatter how he told them move; his mindwas thrashing and scrabbling and struggling but his body wasn’t following. Itwas as if her skin was fusing with his; the more he tried to wrench away, themore he melted into her. Any words he tried to form poured out as nothing but araspy wheeze and she chuckled sympathetically.

“Does iithurt? Well, don’t whiine about iit,” she purred, words echoing eerily in theroom and in his mind. “II could do a lot more to you, but II’m not Antii. IIwon’t put you through another niine months of torture…Your poor liittle bodycouldn’t cope wiith iit.”

Her smilewidened as she watched his pupils dilate, striking blue irises sputtering withmilky silver light that danced and spiraled on the edges of his vision. Afteranother few beats, she released him and stepped back expectantly as hestaggered, clutching at his head with both hands and panting heavily.

“What…what’ve you done?” he gasped panically, hiseyes aching, his vision painted in soft, swirling static. All the color drainedfrom his skin as inky black seeped through the veins in his cheeks, neck and fingers—itwas as if ugly, snarled roses and brambles were blooming within him. Petals andwhispers filled his head, clouded his mind, put pressure on the backs of hiseyes. Dark thorns shredded at every nerve in his body and all at once there wasa disgustingly sweet and steamy scent clinging to the back of his throat andhis lungs. He couldn’t breathe—he couldn’t breathe—

“Are yousure you’re fiit for duty today, Schneeplesteiin?” Signe’s mocking barelyregistered through the tirade of noise and silence bombarding his body. “Maybeyou should liie down.”

Before shehad even finished speaking, he crumpled, making no effort to recover or evenbreak his fall. He didn’t have the strength. The dull crack of pain as his headhit the floor barely registered; all he was aware of were the searing, sticky blacktears gracing the hollows of his cheeks as consciousness fluttered away.

“Oh, you poorthiing…” the woman over him crooned, kneeling down to admire her handiwork. “Themost tragic thiing iin the world iis a siick doctor, iisn’t iit?”

A sicklykind of delight and pity coursed through her as her own skin paled and gutteredto gray. She felt no pain as her own blood ran black nor as her eyes flickeredfrom green to keen silver. Tsking gently, she stroked a thumb over the inkyresidue slipping down his left cheek, rubbing it appreciatively between herfingers. “But iin this line of work, you’re bound to be exposed to someunsavory thiings, aren’t you? IIt’s almost as iif you have a Deathwiish.”

Chapter 2

Here’s the second chapter of that sci-fi thing for those reading. Should I tag you guys in these? Do you want me to just tag this with something for ease of access? Let me know. I’ll repost in the morning for those who aren’t night owls.

Hey, anyone got any ideas for names for this? It’s literally saved as ‘Sci Fi Thing’...so...

Chapter 2

Waking with a migraine in the middle of the night seemed almost like routine.

He had sat up in bed for long enough that the sky began to turn pink, before slipping out of his bed and making his way into his living room.

There was no point in dressing, he wouldn't be leaving his apartment that day.

With no plans, nowhere he wanted to be, no one he wanted to see, he decided he would just mill around.

Curling up on the ledge of his wide window, he ate the only thing he was able to stomach, a dry mixture of grains and some kiscus bark, it was flavourless and gritty, but his stomach accepted the food. He knew he had finally given up when he was halfway through the bag and realized he was actually eating right from the bag with his hand like an animal.

This was his life now.

Eating grains and bark from a bag, in his pyjama bottoms, sitting on his window ledge with bedhead.

Almost angrily, he reached into the bag and grabbed a large handful, shoving it into his mouth and chewing with it open.

May as well just embrace his new role as an unemployed slob.

His comm buzzed and for a moment he considered just ignoring it, but as he peered over and spied Embry's face, he sighed and got up to press the button.

“You know I shouldn't be encouraging bad behaviour,” Embry began with a smirk.

“Then don't,” he replied.

“With the information you managed to give me I dug up a little bit on that girl. Nothing serious, a few minor air traffic dings, but she is a runaway. Her full name is Thandalea Orin, she's sixteen years old. Jumped ship from a home for neglected children on Waif'iko. She owns nothing but a broken down ship left to her by her parents, it's still registered under her father's name, that's how I know it's not stolen. Want me to send her back to Waif'iko?”

“You'd have to find her first.” Joss replied.

“Already done, tracked her down last night, found her sleeping in her ship, took her into holding to question her about the ownership of the cube. That and the fact her ship is still registered to a dead man.”

Turning on his old friend with a scowl, Joss asked, “you arrested her?”

“No, just wanted to make sure neither one of you did anything stupid before another guard caught wind of the caper. We brought her in for questioning, that's all.”

“Thanks for your trust,” he mumbled, heading into his bedroom to change. “I'll be right down to sign for her.”

“You want to release her?” Embry's voice asked from the other room.

“You and I both know kids don't runaway from a good thing,” he called back, eyeing his closet with a frown. He didn't own any civilian gear yet. Maybe he should stop and get at least a civvie tunic somewhere.

“I gotta send her back, Jay,” Embry argued. “We can't just let her...”

“Sign her over to me, you can do that if she agrees. I'll see what I can do about sending her back.”

“Jay, listen, you know I hate that they forced you out, but don't start taking up with these street kids, it will only end in heartbreak.”

Pulling on a pair of his uniform pants with the deep pockets at the thighs that he liked, he stepped from the bedroom and approached his comm and pressed the button, ending the call.

It was odd, but he felt awkward returning to the station dressed in a uniform that wasn't his anymore. He would stop for some clothing first, make a better entrance than some old vet clinging to his glory days.

Stopping in the little front hall of his apartment, he opened his wall safe and removed his gun without thinking. It was habit for him when going to work to grab his gun last thing, so he thought nothing of it as he holstered it to his shoulder.

Tandi was in a little holding cell when he stormed in, she looked furious.

“You fucked me, Legs!” She shouted first thing as he entered, flanked by two guardsmen.

“Sit down, I did nothing of the sort.” He replied. “My friend Embry fucked us both,” he pinned Embry with a hard look.

“Hey, I'm just doing my job, Jay, come on.”

Glaring up at him with narrow gold eyes, he could see Tandi was on the verge of tears or throwing punches, either way he went on calmly. “I can sign you out, if you agree to it, since I'm not your legal guardian.”

“Yeah, I agree to it and then I'm going to kick your ass.”

“Well, my suggestion is you wait at least until we're far from the station so they can't rearrest you for assaulting me,” he said wryly.

She wrenched her face up into a sour sneer.

Leaning down, Joss signed for the girl's release, hesitating at the line 'taking full responsibility for the actions and behaviours of the youth/child as long as they are under the jurisdiction of Aevo in the absence of parental guidance or as an authorized parental figure'. Glancing over at the child in her jacket that was three sizes too big, with her unruly burgundy hair and her sneer, he scoffed and signed for her. He was technically allowed to do that for minors, as a retired Sky Guard. A small, strange perk he knew about as many of the street kids had old Sky Guard advocates or mentors who signed for them in lieu of parents.

“Come sign this,” he ordered her.

She offered him a very lewd gesture, but stomped over anyways and stubbornly put her signature on the document.

“I didn't fuck you!” He growled as they entered society again, the girl storming ahead of him. “Will you slow down?”

“Get out of my life, you progo!” She snarled.

“I don't know what that means, but it better not mean what I think it does!” He returned, picking up his pace the best he could to keep up with her. “Listen, I'm not trying to run your life, you seem pretty capable...aside from the attempted B&E last night.”

Tandi glanced over her shoulder at him, less fire and more ice.

“Thandalea,” he tried calmer.

She slowed. “Don't call me that.”

“Where will you go now?” He asked softly.

“What do you care?” She turned around, hard golden eyes narrowed at him. “Nobody cares about me and I like it that way. It was a mistake bringing you along last night. Now you think you have to pretend to care about this big pain in your ass.”

“I never said anything like that,” he replied. “I don't care deeply, but I do worry that you don't know the dangers--”

“Of the galaxy?!” She barked, as though she had heard that before. “I know the dangers just fine.”

“What's on the cube?” He demanded. “What was so important you had to get it back and why was it in Sorrel's possession in the first place?”

Tandi turned and began to march off, Joss closed at her heels.

“Will you just...” he faltered, as his lung seized. It hadn't failed in a month, he had thought his artificial lung had finally been fixed, but under the stress of the moment it was going fast. “Fuck,” he fell to his knees, hand holding his chest, wheezing. He had forgotten to take his meds in the hurry to get to the station and his body was trying to reject the foreign lung by overcompensating and shutting down both lungs, at least that was what his brain was telling his body. It was psychosomatic, they had told him. He felt the foreign elements, could feel how wrong they were, therefore he fought them and in fighting them, his entire chest seized. It wasn't just his artificial lung, it was him.

The girl left him behind for half a block more, before she slowed her steps and turned.

Just breathe, he told himself. Just get something into your lungs, force them to open, it's all in your head.

Tandi dropped to her knees beside him. “What's happening?”

“I'm fine,” he ground out between grit teeth, ashamed she had to see him like this.

Her small hand hovered over his back for a moment, he could feel the warmth but not the touch above the thin material of the civilian tunic, before it settled gently and began to rub.

“Should I...call someone?” She asked.

A small crowd had gathered and Joss felt himself falling, spiralling down towards a deep, deep hole of shame and self hatred. “Get me home,” he wheezed.

She had dumped him unceremoniously in the hall by his door as she fumbled with his doorcode.

Still struggling to even out his breathing, he raised his hand and shakily touched his thumb to the pad, unlocking the door with his personal microchip key.

It clicked open and Tandi stooped to gather him, fighting to get him up.

He helped her by half crawling, half rolling inside, just enough for her to close the door.

“I have...inhaler, there!” He pointed at in the direction of the kitchen where he stashed a spare one. It was enough to numb him for him to relax enough to breathe.

She tore through cupboards, looking for the inhaler, before finding it on top of his cold cabinet.

Tandi dropped to her knees beside him with it, holding it to his mouth.

He grabbed it from her and inhaled deeply, glaring a little at her to cover his embarrassment.

It was a few agonizing minutes of breathlessness, before he began to feel calm come over him, his throat relaxing, his chest loosening.

“Wow,” Tandi said after a long time of him breathing normally. “You're a real mess.”

He side eyed her angrily.

Pushing to her feet, she smiled and headed into the kitchen. “Bet you haven't eaten anything yet. It's almost midday. Got some food? I'm starving.”

Joss could hear the girl scrambling about in his kitchen like a rodent, the sounds of clinks and clanks, the soft thumps of her boots.

She came back after a bit, without her overly large jacket, hair pulled up and off her face and handed him a glass of water.

“Here, drink this,” she suggested.

He took the glass and drank deep as she ducked back into his kitchen.

Finally, he felt himself strong enough to get to his feet, following her into the other room.

“What's so important about that cube?” He asked, resting his hip against the counter beside her, setting the glass down to fold his arms.

“Pornography, loads and loads of it,” she said, before grinning as she continued to thaw the meat from his freezer. “Is this all you have for food? Just some frozen, half mummified meat and sad vegetables?” Glancing over at him, she said, “you have less food than I do and I'm a runaway orphan.”

He didn't say anything, trying to find a way to get her to leave without being rude.

“How bad was it?” She asked. “You have a phony arm, panic attacks, don't eat?”

“It wasn't a panic attack,” he argued, lying. “My body tries to reject my left lung every now and then.”

“Transplant?”

“Cybernetic.”

“Shit,” she frowned at the pot she pulled down from his cupboard. “How much of you is a robot?”

At her funny little eyebrow wiggle, he scoffed, “I don't know...forty percent? Forty-five?”

“Fuck.”

“What's on the cube?” He repeated.

She smiled, filling the pot with water from his tap. “Do you really care? I'll be gone in an hour.”

“Just long enough to eat,” he replied.

Tandi offered him a look that actually shamed him for the accusation. “You're thin as a pole,” she said softly. “Doesn't anyone feed you?”

“I told you, I can't eat.”

“You can,” she argued. “You just think you can't.”

“Food irritates my stomach.”

“Well, let it irritate it, you can't starve, that's just dumb,” she hauled the pot to the stove and set it down. “You know, my parents fled Impix. They have a clan of people there, they're called the Barkeaters. Well, I heard once that they're called that, because about...twenty years ago, they were being starved out by the Harvesters, another clan that they were fighting. So the Barkeaters, they took to sucking, chewing on the kiscus bark and...a lot of them died. Children, the elderly, because they were the weakest already. I guess, they didn't have a choice when they starved.”

“Properly reprimanded,” he murmured. “What's on the cube?”

“I don't trust you yet, Legs,” she replied. “Go sit down, I can make us some food. When you're poor, you learn to make something out of nothing and, Legs, you got nothing.”

“Let me help,” he offered.

“Sit,” she ordered. “Just listen to someone for once? I bet you don't do that often.”

He frowned, but moved over to his small table to sit down, watching her the whole time she threw the food into the pot to cook.

“So,” she began. “Basic plates, basic utensils, no real warmth or character to your place, I take it you don't have someone else living here?”

“Planning on tying me up and robbing me?” He teased.

She laughed a little. “Legs, even hobbled as you are, I don't think I'm much of a match for you. Besides, I'm sure your friend told you about my record. I don't get much more than moving violations.”

“You shouldn't even be flying at your age.”

“Too bad, I am.” She returned, moving towards him with plates and utensils to set the table. Tandi grinned at him smugly. “It just pisses you off that I'm taking care of you, doesn't it?”

“You're not taking care of me,” he argued. “I'm trying to wait for a good time to ask once more about the cube.”

She laughed. “I'll tell you all about it, but you have to answer one question for me and you have to do it honestly.”

He scowled.

“Oh? Suddenly I'm the one prying?” She demanded, stirring the contents of the pot.

“Fine,” he said after a moment of deliberation with himself. “But you have to answer me honestly too.”

“Okay,” she said, moving to sit at the table with him.

They were both quiet and Joss realized after a while that someone needed to start. “What's your question?”

“Why do live like this? You...seem normal enough, you're not hopelessly unattractive, you could have a family and be surrounded by people who love you. So why do you live like this?”

He wasn't expecting that kind of question. Honestly, he thought he lived well.

But glancing around at his sparsely decorated, rather simple and cold apartment, he figured to a girl like her, someone who came from a culture of warmth and large families, his life looked rather sad and empty.

“I suppose, I just...didn't have the time.”

“Garbage. You said you'd be honest!” She warned.

“I am!” He scowled darkly. “I don't know! I...I regret it, sometimes. But, things just never worked out for me with other people.”

Tandi was quiet. “You never fell in love? You don't even have family?”

“My parents died a long time ago, and...well, I'm Aevonian, we're not exactly warm.”

“There's plenty of warm Aevonians,” she argued.

“Well, I'm not one of them.”

“That's sad,” she stated, clicking her back teeth. “You're pathetic.”

It was said half serious, with a stone sombre face, but Joss caught the jest and laughed, startling himself.

Tandi beamed at the reaction.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I am.”

“At least you're honest with yourself,” she went on lightly.

“What about you? What's with the cube?” He asked.

“Well,” she began, slowing down for a moment, before saying, “well, let's just say, it's...no, I'll be honest. When my parents fled Impix, they did it in my ship. It was a piece of junk then, I fixed it up a little since then, but...well, once we cleared the planet's atmosphere, life support began to fail. As it does on old junkers. So my mom, she diverted all life support to the front cabin and they put me there, just a baby in a blanket, sitting on the pilots seat.” She fell quiet, eyes misting up a little. “They died together in one of the cabins at the back. When they found me drifting around in space, I was warm and alive and a little hungry, but...I have nothing left of them but that ship and the cube. See? My dad was going to go back to Impix one day and save friends and family, neighbours, members of the clan. That cube has a list of names of people he wanted to save. I'm going to go back to Impix and save them, for him and mom.”

The Sky Guard in him wanted to warn her how dangerous Impix was, how foolish the mission would be, but the good host in him had him biting that back.

“That's a stupid thing to do,” he finally said with a small grin, returning her early taunt.

She sniffed back any tears that may have been coming and laughed. “Yeah.”

He was too polite to refuse the meal after she cooked it for him, taking his time and eating it slowly as she shovelled bowl after bowl into her mouth.

Sitting at the table, he watched the girl, studied her in between spoonfuls of the stew she had made. Her face was dirty in places, her clothes looked threadbare and ready to just fall off of her form, her cheeks hollow like she hadn't had a solid meal in a while, though her body was naturally curvy.

She didn't talk much as they ate, which he appreciated. There was no sense in unnecessary chatter.

“Where do you sleep at night? Your ship?” He asked as they cleared the table, both of them bursting at the seams with stew. He actually ate more than he expected to eat, having another half a bowl.

She shrugged. “Sure, I mean, where do you think I sleep? An alley somewhere? My ship's always been home, even when the LPP had it put in storage until I came of age, I would sneak into the warehouse that housed it and sleep there whenever I ran away from the home.”

“So how do you afford fuel for it?” He asked.

“Do you mean, do I steal debs for fuel?”

“That's not what I asked,” he argued.

Tandi scrubbed the dishes quietly. “I do odd jobs here and there. Delivering things to other planets, the odd transport gig. Anything that gets me up into the stars.”

“You like space?” He asked, drying the dishes.

“I love it, nobody tells me what to do up there. It's just me and Lovelace.”

“Lovelace? Your ship?”

She laughed. “No, my auto-pilot hologram. I installed him myself, modified one of those old encyclopedia holograms, interfaced it with my ship, so Lovelace can do a lot of things if I ask him. Mostly he flies for me when I sleep or when I'm too lazy to fly. He's good for company on long trips. Though, well...he has a few glitches. I tried to program them out of him, I'm not sure if it's ghosts of his old coding or what, but every now and then he breaks out into song. Mostly old Human songs, some Ralorixian romance songs. And he can't fly under a certain speed, so he's gotten us a few infraction tickets. He's never gotten us into a collision yet though.”

“You sound proud of him,” he replied.

“I am! He was the first thing I added to my ship, I wanted...I dunno, someone else there with me, but I didn't trust anyone. Lovelace was my only friend for a long time.”

For a moment Joss caught a glimmer of pure joy in Tandi's eyes and smiled a little. He had to admit he felt bad for the kid, she had a hard life, but she seemed like she turned out to be an okay sort.

“Do you have any clothes besides those rags?” He asked.

“Hey! These rags are pure grunge!” She argued.

“They looked like they're ready to disintegrate.”

“That's the look,” she objected. “I'm seared.”

He wasn't up on a lot of the new lingo, though he did run into it from time to time whenever he'd drag in a kid for processing, so he managed to reply with, “no, you're scorched and crispy in some places.”

She laughed. “Says the old man in the military pants and shitty top.”

“I'm going for a look,” he argued lightly.

“Oh? Thrift shop embarrassed?” She teased.

He chuckled. “I paid twenty debs for this top.”

“Yeah, it looks like it.”

They laughed together for a moment, before Tandi straightened up, face falling slowly. “I'd better go. You're good on your own, yeah?”

He nodded. “Thank you for the food.”

“Whatever, I conned a free meal off you,” she returned breezily, heading into the front hall.

“Do you need me to walk you back to your ship?” He asked.

“Pfft,” she scoffed. “I'm fine. Get some sleep tonight, okay?”

Hearing the door click behind the young woman, Joss stood for a moment as the silence settled over his apartment, before he sighed.

For a few hours he paced his apartment, back in the work out pants he slept in, the loose academy shirt he wore from his training days, his hands itching to do something, his mind unable to focus on anything but how little he had to do with his time.

He didn't even have a hobby.

As he paced his mind turned to Tandi, to her situation.

Admittedly, he didn't know as much about Impix and its struggle as he should. It was a planet in a star system that neighboured Aevo's, but all he knew beyond the fact that the planet was locked down tight due to outright civil war, was the fact that no one got off planet easily.

Easing down before his CPU, he opened a search for Impix, curious about just what was going on with the planet.

For a few hours more he read about famine, war crimes, refugees being turned back by many settlements, by many governments on many planets. He read about child soldiers and warlords, the very worst stories one could tell about the very worst things one could imagine. Rape and mutilations, horrific executions and clans turning on other clans.

Joss tore through page after page of stories and facts and accounts, but it wasn't until a photo of a small Impixaen girl who had lost half her face in a bombing, who was adopted through years of hard fought court battles by a Baorian couple peered up at him from one of the pages, that he gave pause.

If he didn't know any better, he would have bet the child was Tandi looking back at him, with her large golden eyes and her soft, almost hopeless air.

At his core, in his youth, he had always said that the pride of being a Sky Guard was what drew him down his path, but when he started, when he actually got out among the people in the uniform, he had found meaning in helping the innocent. In seeing the relief in a woman's eyes as they appeared to arrest her attacker, in seeing the absolute trust in a child's eyes when he would scoop them up to take them to safety.

Clicking away from the image idly, he found another article popping up about Impix, one of those related articles.

He was scrolling down the page to find more articles directly related to the war on Impix, when his eyes paused on three words that caught his attention: 'off-planet resistance'.

Joss stopped his scrolling where it was and backed up a little.

With many on the planet itself, helpless or unwilling to assist, Rena found herself going down to the surface one night to sneak a couple of Zane's family members off-planet. This began what would become in Rena's words 'her life's purpose'. With a small crew of, what would be described by some, as maverick outlaws or an off-planet resistance of sorts, she has amassed a sizable crew.

'Resistance isn't the word I'd use, sweet flower. I'd call us volunteers. We reunite families.'

When asked where she keeps her small ship hidden, Rena was only able to say, 'my ship is my daughter, my child. She is always with me.'

Donations can be made to Rena's 'volunteers' by finding her yourself and seeing what the intrigue is all about, as she was not forthcoming with much. She isn't hard to miss, standing at a startling fourteen hands high, Rena Saarl is a bright, beautiful and very colourful Zhaerian.

Try as he did, Joss couldn't stop himself from feeling that thrill he always felt whenever he was about to make an arrest or solve a case, he sat for a moment absolutely vibrating.

Giving in to the urge, he pushed away from his desk and headed into his bedroom, going straight to his closet, where he shoved all his old uniforms aside, digging into the back of his closet for something he had never worn.

His mother was a university professor, but his father was New Order, retired when Joss was born. The New Order became the Sky Guard and the old soldiers and fighters from the Order didn't want to continue holding the rifles.

Pausing as he knelt to dig out the boots and helmet from the bottom of the closet, he peered at himself in the closet mirror.

Gaunt, pale and too thin, with a day's worth of stubble on his jaw, he peered back. He looked like a madman with a lock of his dark hair fallen out of place, hair raked with his fingers and not combed or smoothed down as he usually wore it.

Ignoring himself, he thrust into the closet and pulled out the boots and helmet, tossing them onto his bed with the suit.

Gloves, there were gloves with his father's old uniform.

Diving under his bed, he pulled out a plastic box he kept miscellaneous clothing items in.

The gloves were there, along with the thigh holster of the New Order.

Standing over the bed, with the uniform tossed carelessly on top, he realized that he was really going to do it. He had the ship, he had the training, he had his father's old climate suit uniform.

Stripping down to his underwear, he tugged the suit on. Before pulling some socks and then the boots, strapping the holster on his right thigh.

He hadn't even secured the top part, left it open in his rush to gear up. So he closed it finally, standing in front of the mirror to ensure everything was secure properly.

The boots were a little tight, he could buy a new pair on the move, but the gloves fit nice.

The uniform of the New Order was one of clean lines and no excess.

In the days before Aevo opened itself up, his people were ruled by the Old Order, those who dictated that children who were imperfect were time and money wasted.

His father and many, many more rose up to protest this harsh regime of perfection, no one would dare call it a civil war, no Aevonian would ever admit something like that. But it was. The New Order had gone in and changed the world, before settling down with their families once more, bearing children like Joss who were too tall and would have been 'left behind' for the imperfection.

His father was average height, which was why the suit was a little too snug on him, but that just meant the 'one size fits all' uniform that would have been a little baggy on his father, was form fitting on his son.

He looked like a ghost from a forgotten time, the pallor and death hollows of his cheeks, wasn't helping the look. But as he pulled the helmet on, covering his face, he took on a different form. He was another space traveller. Some old Vek or Nevedak trader in a thrift store suit, coming into port with a load of space junk to sell.

The black glass helmet, once sleek and flawless, was dinged and scuffed here and there, but it was still a clear symbol of the New Order.

Stepping into his bathroom, he grabbed his medications and shoved them into a small bag, along with a few personal things, an old memory stick with photographs of his parents, and his mother's degree.

Moving into the front hall, he retrieved his gun from the wall safe and secured it in the holster, grabbing all the ammo and the passcode for the platform where his retirement ship sat, he left his apartment, locking the door behind him.

PROJECT; 05789

Scanning… Memory removal in-session.

60% complete…

62% complete…

48% complete…

WIPE COMPLETED.

Ų̶͔͍͕͇͖̿̌͘͝ͅǸ̴̫̗͈̗̙̰͒̃̚͠K̶̻̟̄̈́N̵͕͛ͅO̵͇̹͑̿͗́͆̄͘W̵̘̪̔̎̆͑̚N̷̜̈̊̂̆͋̓͘ ̴̢̻̩̺̙̼͚͌̓͐̚͝E̷̹̺̥̓̈́̐̊͝R̶̟̤̳͈̳̋͊̏ͅR̴͓̭̯̼͂̋͋̍͑ͅǪ̴̡͚̪̲͇̒̔̅̈̏̕͘R̸͕̲͆̊́̊͆̂ ̷̨̥̼͍̠͒̍͠Ǫ̶̼͔̒̄͘Ç̴͂̒̀Ĉ̵̠͔̂̀̍U̸̡̬̲̒̈́R̷͗̉͂͌̓̀͠ͅR̷̡̲͕̲̗̺̼͒̓͆̈́͠E̷͈͕̪̭̣͗̓͑̋̓̃͝D̸͓͑̄̔͛̚͠͠

[ The boy’s eyes snapped open in the cool darkness of a room. He looked around wildly, struggling to move, because every inch of him hurt. Where was he? What was this?

He forced himself to sit up, an obnoxious whirring noise accompanying the movement and making him wince, the sound reverberating through his protesting ears. Where was it coming from? It sounded like…

It was him.

Eyes downcast onto his legs, his stomach, anything, Ekko held his hands out in front of him, beginning to panic. Metal. This surely wasn’t real. It couldn’t be anything besides some twisted dream, could it? The last thing he remembered was… walking towards home.

He must be asleep. That was the explanation. He was lucid dreaming. He would play out the dream until it was over.

Despite this conclusion, the boy was shaken. His breaths came quickly, sounding constricted and unnatural, and as he swung himself off of the table where he lay, his knees spun with unseen robotics. Surely it was implanted to make him move more efficiently, but all it did was make his head spin. ]

                    EXIT THE ROOM.

[ What the fuck was that? A voice? Ekko’s head whipped around, and he angrily brushed strands of his hair (thank Gods, he still had his hair) out of the way to see who was speaking to him.

Nobody else was in the room. The boy struggled to his feet, flexing his fingers in front of him, further examining the… augmentations that were forced into him. The only feelings he could muster were overwhelming confusion, consuming anger, and the simple hope that this would end, and soon. ]

                                        EXIT THE ROOM.

[ The same woman’s voice repeated the order a second time, eerily calm, and Ekko soon realized that she was speaking into his head. A wheeze of a breath escaped him in a freshly panicked state as he clutched at his ears- metal. Skull- metal. His lips were barely lips anymore, his skin was cold to the touch. He’d become the very thing he fought.

Pushing himself to respond, the boy deduced that if he followed the orders, maybe he could at least end the dream. He stumbled over to the door, not used to the new movement he’d been granted, eventually righting himself and finding that it was easier to walk, easier to move. He was quieter, he was more flexible. He stood taller.

He hated it.

Reaching out trembling fingers for the doorknob, he turned it and pushed the door open, watching as it swung outwards, revealing a hallway. He cautiously stepped out, looking around. It was a steely grey. No windows, no mirrors. Only the next door at the end. A few yards away. Ekko glanced behind him and hesitated. ]

                    CONTINUE THROUGH THE HALLWAY.

[ The voice resonated through his head, his migraine causing him to grimace; though this time, it seemed more persuasive, urging his feet to move forwards. He complied. Soon, he was reaching for the second door- but it opened on its own.

Ekko froze, eyes examining what laid beyond in the next room. The space was illuminated brightly with white lights, and two others… others like him? They stood side-by-side, light cast from their weapons and their very being. It was similar to the green light that Ekko knew his parts emitted. He swallowed. He stepped inside, as if he already knew what the woman would say. ]

                                        GET IN LINE.

[ He didn’t want to. The boy wanted to do anything but step into line. But he did, slowly as he pleased, the voice pressuring him. He paced over slowly, examining the others. One- pink light, a woman- with blades. She did not move as he approached. She seemed to be fixated on something rather important, in front of her. He followed her gaze- there was nothing there. There were not- yet- any other people (nor machines) in the room.

The second- a blue light, another woman. Armed with a bow. A hard, metallic satchel of arrows- no doubt all tipped with something lethal. He was intimidated. He did not know why he was here.

Swallowing harshly, the boy walked forwards further, intending to stand between the other two augmented drones- he was unsure if they could even think for themselves. But if they couldn’t, why could he?

Suddenly, as he approached, the blue woman’s hand jerked over, snatching his arm to hold him in place, and she just looked at him. Ekko froze in fear. He did not have any weapons. He had no means of fighting her. He met her over-processed eyes with an expression of pure horror- though, she did not seem to act further. They stood still this way, for a few more seconds, before Ekko heard the voice in his head again. ]

                    FEAR NOT, CHILD.

[ He frowned slowly, eyes still locked onto the blue woman- he could see clearer than he ever had before. Slowly, he realized that the voice speaking in his head? Was the woman holding him. He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him. ]

                    I WON’T ALWAYS BE ABLE TO SPEAK LIKE THIS. BUT I KNOW                     YOU CAN HEAR ME. THEY CAN’T. THEY DON’T KNOW WHAT                     WE CAN DO.

[ Ekko was utterly stupefied. What was she talking about? Couldn’t always speak like that? What, in his head? She clearly had a free will, too. He doubted this of the other woman, though that didn’t matter right now. Who were… “they?’

She ignored his question, as if she could hear his thoughts. She yanked his arm slightly, jerking him into line, where he was supposed to be- and she rested her fingers against his back, straightening his posture. Not unkindly. She resumed her original position, eerily still once more. ]

                    STAND STRAIGHT. ACT AS THOUGH YOU’VE NO FREE WILL.                     NEXT TIME THEY SEND US OUT, I WILL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING.                     I NEED YOUR HELP, KID. GOT ALL THAT?

[ The door where Ekko had entered opened, and the boy straightened, chest heaving with adrenaline-fueled breaths. He looked straight ahead, copying the women next to him. His mind was a mess. She needed his help? She didn’t even know who he was. He hesitated.

But soon, the man who had entered the room was in his view, facing away, fingers picking through blueprints, from what Ekko could see. His gaze hardened. He did not know who this man was, but his conscience screamed at him that he was not good. He meant harm. And the Zaunite had a great feeling that this man, he was the one who’d augmented him against his will, too.

He nodded, near imperceptibly, but he heard a satisfied breath release in his head, and he knew that she had seen. The boy remained steely and glared directly at the man’s back. ]

                    REST EASY, INITIATE. HE WILL FACE US SOON ENOUGH.

Lucky Me (Original)

     Just a fair warning before we begin, this is gonna get pretty gay. This is also another story - a narrative essay - that I wrote for my honors English class. Since it’s summertime, I’ve finally found the time - more like taken the time - to sit down and post some fresh content. Constructive criticism would be nice in return! I remind you that I’m not a professional! Enjoy!

     Lady Luck had seemed to be on my side that day. It all started Monday morning with my alarm clock blasting a cacophony in my ears. I didn’t move for a minute, hoping that somehow that the clock could throw itself out the window before I throw it out myself. That or before I jump out the window myself. A couple of minutes later, my annoyance had only grown which encouraged me to find the strength to slam my hand on top of my alarm clock, hitting the snooze button. At that moment I wish I had broken it. I could feel myself slowly slip back into slumber when a crash of thunder caused me to jerk up in bed. My curly hair bounced and shook with the quick movements and my heart pounded a bit harder and quicker than before. I huffed and collapsed back into my bed, letting out a string of curses as I ran my hands over my tired eyes.        After finding the courage to drag myself out of bed, I pulled on my usual work uniform. A chocolate polo shirt that has a little coffee cup embroidered into the small pocket that rested in the upper left-hand area of the shirt. My dark blue jeans have seen better days. They’ve been stained countless of times from coffee and paint spills. At this point I’ve grown to love these pants, not just they’re the only pants I own and they fit me nicely, but because they’re filled with memories. Both good and the not so good ones. Oh, who am I kidding, I hate these pants. My boss nags me every single day saying that I can’t keep coming into work looking like a slob. Watch me woman. After slipping on my sneakers, I grabbed my name tag and headed to the bathroom. “Kurtis,” the name tag read in bold black letters with the usual words at the top of it. “Hello, my name is...” I gazed at my appearance in the bathroom mirror. My red, curly hair was just long enough for my liking. The color I wish I could change. My whole life I was picked on for the color of my hair. “Gingers don’t have souls” they would say. You know, sometimes I wondered if they were right in my case. I’m like a bitter old man that’s yelling at kids to get off his lawn and calling them ‘whippersnappers.’ That’s what made me stand out in my family. We all had naturally curly hair except my mother who has long, straight, umber brown hair. I have my mom’s eyes. Forest green with a hint of gold around the pupil. My sister though has my dad’s eyes. Chestnut brown with a hint of gold around the pupil, just like mine. We all had pale skin. Our skin was so pale that people would have assumed that we didn’t even know what the sun was. My dad’s and my faces obtained light freckles that decorated every corner and crevice of our faces that for some reason people liked. I absolutely hated them at times. They were all different sizes and shades that it just looked weird to me. I would wear makeup to cover them up, but I don’t want another reason to be teased. I’d be called girly or some other names I’d prefer not to say.      After brushing my teeth and doing what I had to do, I grabbed a light hoodie and made my way out of my apartment complex. I already knew that today just wasn’t going to be my day. I stepped out the door and my hoodie was completely soaked. That’s right, it was raining. I turned around to head back into the building and reached into my back pocket for my key card only to find it empty. I had left it in my apartment. Great, now not only is my hoodie soaked, but I also don’t have an umbrella, I’ll probably be close to being late for work, so my only choice is to book it to work. I threw up my hood and began sprinting to the coffee shop, dodging people left and right. Good thing I took track throughout middle and high school. I could feel my shoes, as well as my socks, become soaked. Let’s just hope that I don’t get a cold or trip and break something. I can’t afford to miss work.      If you don’t know already, I work at a local coffee shop in town called Le Café. It’s a French name, yet the owner isn’t even French. I think they’re Italian. I hate working there, simple as that. I’ve thought about quitting, but it’s the best paying job I’ve had so far in my life. It gets the bills paid. The reason why I absolutely despise working there so much is because it’s always busy, it’s full of horrible customers – well except one, in my opinion, I work too many hours to even take care of myself, and by the end of the day I always have a migraine from the strong aroma of coffee grounds. I don’t know why it causes me to have migraines, but I would love to know because I’ve been complaining my head off about it ever since I started working there a year ago.      After a couple minutes of running and almost slipping and falling on my face, I finally arrived. I practically busted down the door when I made my way inside. I threw off my hood and made my way to the back of the shop to grab my work apron while throwing off my soaked hoodie. One of the good things about the shop was that quite warm. Well, it was great on cold days. During the summer, everyone was miserable. It basically would turn into a sauna and the aroma of coffee grounds would get mixed in with the odor of everyone's’ sweat. That was when my migraines were at their worst. Not only would my head be pounding so hard that it felt as if someone was continuously banging my head against a rock, the smell of the sweat made me feel nauseous. I try to avoid breathing through my nose whenever I could during those times.      As I was tying the apron around my waist, I jumped and cursed as I fled two hands suddenly land firmly on my shoulders. I spun around and was both relieved and annoyed at the sight of Lucy with a wide grin stretched across her face, laughing at my misery. Well, in other words, she’s laughing at the fact that I’m easily startled, or in her words “a scaredy-cat.” She was now hunched over, wrapping her arms around her midsection and red in the face from laughing so hard. She wasn’t even laughing anymore. It was just a silent laugh with a few wheezes and tears prickling her hazel eyes. I was more annoyed at the fact that she found this more humorous that I did.        “Jesus Christ Lu! Ya’ can’t just sneak up on people like that!” I exclaimed with annoyance lacing my voice. She wasn’t fazed by it though. She just kept on laughing and only seemed to laugh harder at my annoyance. After a few deep breaths and small chuckles, she wiped up her tears and stood back up after she had fallen on the ground.        “I would say I’m sorry Kurt, but I'm really not! I don’t know how you haven’t grown eyes on the back of your head dude. I mean I’ve done this so many times that I can’t count it on my own two hands.” Lucy had a point. Every day when I come into work, she always had the need to make me jump out of my skin. It wouldn’t matter if I was working, if I was on break, or serving a customer. Lucy just felt the need to scare me half to death. What can I say, I’m a jumpy person. “It’s not my fault that you’re easily startled,” she teased while walking past me to grab her own apron off the rack.      “Do you think I would get fired if I smacked you?” I questioned jokingly, continuing to tie the strings of the apron behind my back. She shrugged and pinned her name tag onto her apron.      “Honestly, if I were your boss I personally wouldn’t. I probably deserve it anyway. But knowing who we work for, you’d get your butt kicked to the curb.” I shrugged and pinned my own name tag to my apron while ruffling my damp hair. “Definitely worth it,” I muttered under my breath and pushed open the door that leads into the front of the shop, holding the door open for Lucy in the process. She nodded her head as a small thanks and walked ahead of me behind the counter.      Ever since I started working here, Lucy and I were practically connected at the hip. She was only a couple years older than me, but people thought that I was her elder due to her hyperactive and childish attitude. It’s not a bad thing though. She didn’t throw tantrums or act childish in a bad way, it’s that she was always just always, well, not like me, I guess. We were polar opposites. I’m a bitter old man who’s on the brink of being a slob, while Lucy always has a youthful glow to her, seems innocent – even though sometimes I wonder if she’s the spawn of Satan himself, and overall just is so bubbly. She also looks younger than me. I should probably ask her what skin care products she uses. Lucy was also a petite person. She was not short in any way, for she stood at around 5’9 and was quite skinny. I sometimes felt the need to care for her and make sure that she eats whenever she needs to. She’s such a hard worker and always gets the job done. We both had pale skin, but her hair was nowhere curly as mine. It was more wavy than curly. Lucy also had dark brown hair that could pass as black. I would say she was like a sister to me, but from my experiences, my sister and I fought quite often. Sometimes it would even grow physical. I guess you could say Lucy and I were like close cousins.      I began to follow her out the door, cringing at the squeaking sounds my shoes made against the tiled floor. Lucy must have heard it too since she turned her head to look at me and finally took the time to gaze at my disheveled state. She raised one eyebrow as she looked me up and down, head to toe. “What happened to you? You practically look like you jumped in a pool with your clothes on before comin’.” I rolled my eyes at her comment and stood at the cash register next to her. I knew she was joking, but I couldn’t help but agree with her. I’d never admitted it to her face though.      “For your information, I didn’t,” I sassed, “I only had a hoodie on and forgot to bring an umbrella-”      “I didn’t pick you as the type to own an umbrella.”      “What’s that supposed to mean?” I sneered. She simply shrugged and began putting her long, dark into a ponytail. I sighed and continued with my story.               “Anyways, I realized that I left my key card in my apartment and I was close to being late for work, so I sprinted my butt to work.” I don’t even know if she was listening. Her eyes seemed to drift around the room and immediately brightened as her eyes stopped on something or someone.      “Hey lover boy, he’s here again,” she whispered loud enough only for me to hear. The he that she’s referring to was sitting across the room at a table for two. My breath seemed to get caught in my throat and I felt my anxiety spike through the roof. My palms were sweaty, knees weak, and arms grew heavy. I don’t even know his name or anything about him, yet I’ve been silently pining after him for weeks. For all I know, he could be a total creep, a serial killer, or a total jerk. I don’t even know if he’s into guys. He comes in once a week and always orders a Café con Leche. Ever since I’ve made the horrible choice of discussing my infatuation for him to Lucy, she always makes sure I’m the one to bring him his drink.      Today the unnamed man wore a simple white tee with a dark blue jacket and slim fitting black jeans. He also seemed to be wearing the same brand of shoes I was currently wearing. He was clearly more muscular than I was and was most likely a few inches taller than I was. His tan skin seemed to glow under the artificial lighting of the coffee shop and his black hair shined as well. I could practically feel my heart skip a beat as I watched him run his hand through his hair, pushing it back and a bit to the side.        I flinched when I felt something jab my side. I turned my head to see Lucy wiggling her eyebrows at me. I already knew what she was thinking. “Shut up,” I muttered and lowered my gaze down to the cash register. I could tell that my face was so red it put tomatoes to shame.      “Hey! Don’t shush me when I didn’t even say anything!”      “You didn’t have to! I already know what you’re thinking!” Lucy rolls her eyes at me and was handed a piece of paper by another coworker and turned to me, handing me the paper. Great, it was his order. She patted me on the shoulder and laughed.      “It’s your time to shine my friend,” she joked and left my side to go and take care of another customer's order. “One of these day’s you’ll thank me, Kurtis!”        “We’ll see about that,” I muttered to myself, heading to the coffee machines to fix up his drink. After fixing up his drink and chatting with a few coworkers, I set the cup on a small plate and began my way over to his table. When I turned around though, it felt as if my heart snapped in two and my stomach dropped. Across from the guy sat a girl, a beautiful girl. She had long brown hair and a slim body and wore a white blouse that hugged her frame. The girl also wore a grey skater skirt that had the blouse tucked into it. Her shoes were even the same as his. They were both smiling and laughing together, just like a couple would. I felt a lump form in my throat and shakily sighed. I knew it was too good to be true.      I felt furious. Not at the girl or him though, no, I was angry with myself. When I first saw him, I promise myself that I wouldn’t fall that easily, and look where I am now. Upset over a boy that I don’t even know the name of. I indeed was familiar with the feeling of heartache and break, so I did what I do best. I push it deep down inside and try to forget about it. I usually don’t have anyone in reach to vent to, but when I do, I don’t. I don’t want to bother them with the same problems about a boy I’m hung up over.        I took a deep breath and forced myself to start walking towards his table while making sure not to spill his drink. The pair turned their heads and smiled politely as I set the drink down. Usually, my smile would match his, wide and full of joy. Not right now though. I forced myself to give them both a small, pained smile and quickly turned around to head back to the register. I looked up at the analog clock that was above the front door and let out a relieved sigh when I saw that it was time for my break. I was quick to rip off my apron, tossing it on the counter and stormed out back. I needed some air.      Lucy must have been watching the scene unfold because I could hear her footsteps follow me. She didn’t follow me outside immediately though. I knew she was waiting inside, waiting for me to calm down and collect myself. After a couple of minutes of me sulking with my head in my hands, I heard the metal back door slowly creak open. I let out a sigh and lifted my head only to be greeted with Lucy’s sympathetic gaze. “Hey,” she spoke in a hushed voice while giving me a small smile. She sat next to me on the ground and gently wrapped a thin arm around my shoulders, pulling me close and having me rest my head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry that things didn’t turn out the way you wanted ‘em. I’ve been there plenty of times dude.” She let out a small chuckle and caressed her thumb along my shoulder, doing her best to comfort me. I shrugged, letting her know that I was listening. I lifted my head from her shoulder as her hand moved from my shoulder to my upper back.      “It’s just...I don’t know why I do this to myself Lu. One minute I’m telling myself that I’ll never fall for someone so easily again, and the next thing I know I’m doing the exact thing I told myself not to do,” I complained. She nodded understandingly and stood back up.      “I know Hun,” ‘Hun’ was one of her many nicknames for me, “but it’s a part of life. It’s something that most of us experience in one way or another. With good comes bad. Light and dark. Yin and yang. One thing I know you need to do is to find a way to release what you’re feeling. It’s okay to vent to someone every once and a while. There are people who’ll listen, Kurt, you just need to find ‘em. I’m not saying that you’re gonna get over him easily as flipping a switch, it’s gonna take time Hun. Just do what you need to do to pick up the pieces, and it needs to be in a healthy way.” Lucy smiles down at me and ruffled my hair playfully. I chuckled and smacked her hand away before she walked back inside, for she wasn’t on break yet. Even if it was her break, there’s no way she’d stop working. For someone who acted younger than her age, she sure knew when to act like a mom to her heartbroken teenage child. Her words seemed to have lifted my spirits and gave me the strength to stand up.      As I was dusting off the back of my pants, I had my gaze pointed to the ground and I noticed something. Something green. I bent down and carefully plucked it from the ground and examined it. I chuckled to myself as I realized what it was, a four-leafed clover. I wasn’t the type to believe in these kinds of things, but I figured that I might as well keep it and maybe do something with it in my artwork when I get home.      Fast forwarding to the end of my shift, I was told by another coworker that it was my turn to lock up tonight, which meant I had to stay at the shop for another hour and make sure everything was fine. After I had locked the door and turned around, I was shocked to see it was him. The unnamed guy I was telling myself to get over. He was leaning against a lamp post that sat in front of the shop and was on his phone. He looked up and smiled softly when he saw that I had noticed him.      “Hey, I was wondering when you’d be done,” he spoke with a deep laugh. God, his voice practically made me weak in the knees. I raised an eyebrow, feeling confused. I looked around to see if he was talking to anyone else. Nope, he was talking to me, for there was no one else that was out on the street. Oh geez, he’s probably here to kill me. Why else wouldn’t he be here at midnight when no one else is around?      “Why me?” I questioned, crossing my arms and narrowing my eyes at him. There was no way I was going to let myself fall into this trap again. I had to guard myself. He seemed to be taken aback at how off standish I was. He nervously scratched the back of his neck and looked down at the ground, avoiding eye contact with me as I was with him.      “Uh, yeah I can explain,” he defended.      “Please do, and please make it quick. I’m really tired and I just wanna head home.” He nodded understandingly and stepped towards me while sticking out his hand.      “I’m Jordan by the way, and I know we haven’t talked much – practically at all – but I really wanted to these past couple of weeks.” I looked down at his hand and back up at his face. I noticed that his eyes were a dark brown with a lighter shade of brown ringed around the pupil.      I stuck out my hand and shook his, noticing how small my hand was compared to his and how he was rough while mine was softer. “Kurtis, Kurtis Maple,” I greeted. I pulled my hand away and shoved them into the front pockets of my jeans. “So, why’d you wanna chat with me, and why this late at night? You could have caught me any other day when I was on break.” I knew I was being a bit rude, but I couldn’t help but build up this tough façade. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair while shoving the other into the pocket of his jacket.      “Well, ya’ see, I’ve seen you around at this shop, and I thought you were pretty cute, but I didn’t have the guts to talk to you and had to ask my friend Toni – she was the chick here earlier today – for help. She’s friends with your friend Lucy by the way. Toni had heard from Lucy that you were working late tonight. I didn’t know how late, so I’ve been standing out here for around an hour, I think.” My eyes widened in surprise at his words and my eyebrows furrowed.      “Wait, so you’re not...straight?” I questioned, unfolding my arms. He laughs and shakes his head.      “No, no, I’m into guys. Plus, Toni prefers girls and she’s had her eye on Lucy for a while too.” I nodded and only grew even more confused. Okay, so Lucy knows Toni, who knows Jordan, which means that either Lucy did or didn’t know that the two weren’t dating. “Is that why you seemed so upset earlier?” Jordan inquired, breaking my train of thought in the process. I blushed and sheepishly nodded my head which only caused him to let out a small chuckle. “Don’t worry, Toni’s just, my uh, ‘wing-woman,’ I guess you would say.” He bit his lip and held out his hand for me to take. “As a way to apologize for the misunderstanding, is it alright if I walked you home and take you out on a date?” I couldn’t help but give him a small grin and gently grasped his hand, lacing our fingers together.      “I’d like that,” I happily agreed.      As the two of us walked back to my place together, I couldn’t help but remember the little four-leafed clover I still had in my pocket. Maybe they really did bring good luck, maybe they didn’t. Either way, I’m still glad I decided to keep it. Lucky me.