#'my possessions are causing me suspicions but there's no proof' reminds me of will telling mike he senses vecna again (superspy encore?)
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Like an Old Enemy
Chapter Four: Maybe I Don’t Want You to Die
Summary: Miraculous Enemies AU. Gabriel Agreste has the Black Cat Miraculous in his possession, so when his wife, Emilie, "disappears," he sends his son, Adrien, undercover to pose as Ladybug's partner. Two years later, the once famous duo are sworn enemies. Marinette might have loved Chat Noir once, but now she would stop at nothing to defeat him. Adrien will do whatever it takes to bring his mother back. Best friends in their civilian lives, Adrien and Marinette find obstacles and complications when they can no longer deny their love for each other. But will they be able to understand and forgive the mistakes of their past? Or will they be doomed to end as bitter rivals a second time?
Rated: T
Pairings: Ladybug/Chat Noir Enemies, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Mutual Pining
Word Count: 5,356
Read on: ao3
A/N: I am only posting part of this chapter on tumblr so please read the rest on ao3!
Something didn’t sit right with Adrien.
Adrien had been racking his brain all week trying to figure out this mystery boy’s identity. He knew he should leave it alone. If Marinette didn’t want to tell him, that was her decision. But still, something was off. He could have worn a hole through the carpet of his bedroom from the amount of pacing he did that week. Marinette had never spoken of this boy who broke her heart before. He tried to find any moment that could be explained by this revelation.
There wasn’t one.
It’s not like Adrien thought she was lying—he saw her face when she told him, that was emotion you cannot fake—but he did think Marinette was better at hiding things than he thought. And with that, came a suspicion that he fiercely wanted to ignore.
The idea furrowed into his brain, under his skin, an irritation that once recognized could not be left alone. He was going to go insane if he didn’t figure it out. All week, Adrien acted jittery around her, stared for too long, tripped over his words. She didn’t seem to notice his strange behavior, but if he was correct, she could easily be hiding her true thoughts. Others did notice, though.
“Okay, what is going between you and Marinette?” It was not uncommon for Nino to start a phone call with this type of greeting.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Adrien denied, slumping into his computer chair. With his phone pressed to his ear, Adrien could hear the static of Nino’s silence, forcing a confession out of him. “Okay, fine.” It didn’t take long for Nino’s silence to convince him—he actually felt a guilty sense of relief to be able to ask Nino about it. “But this stays completely between us. You can’t tell Alya.” Nino had a habit of telling his girlfriend everything. If Adrien didn’t clarify that ‘tell no one’ included his friend’s girlfriend, Alya would know in a few seconds flat—which meant that Marinette would know too.
“Got it, dude. Now what’s up?”
Adrien sighed, unsure of how to phrase his question. Marinette had told him, but that didn’t mean that she wanted Nino to know. It was still her secret to share or withhold and Adrien wouldn’t expose her like that. “Marinette told me something, and I just haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. You’ve known her longer than I have. Has she…Was there anyone she dated or liked before I started school?”
“She didn’t have a boyfriend, and as far as I know she didn’t like anyone,” Adrien sighed, he didn’t know what kind of answer he was expecting but this didn’t help.
“Okay, tha—”
“Except for her crush on Chat Noir.” Nino interrupted, laughing slightly. Adrien’s phone slipped from his hand. He scrambled for it, bringing it back to his ear.
“Sorry! I dropped my phone. What did you say?” Please let this be a mistake.
“Just that Marinette had a celebrity crush on Chat Noir. She’s like his biggest fan—well, she was until he turned all evil. She was devastated after Ladybug announced he was working with Hawkmoth. But that’s probably not what you were looking for, right?”
He was silent, there was no more denying it. His mind spiraled down the long winding path of half-baked suspicions and coincidences until he landed in the deep center—no longer able to run or hide from the fact staring back at him: Marinette was Ladybug.
“Hello? Adrien, are you still there?” Nino’s voice brought him back to his body.
“What? Oh yeah, sorry. My father was talking to me about a photoshoot. I gotta go, Nino.” He hung up before his friend could say anymore.
The final puzzle piece clicked into place, allowing him to see the entire picture and it was her. It was always her. Marinette was Ladybug. She had to be. It was the only thing that made sense. A montage of memories flashed through his mind, connecting the link between them. The gum incident, her disappearance during akuma attacks, the hatred in her eyes during her date with Evillustrator—they all could be explained with the simple fact that Marinette was Ladybug.
Because Marinette didn’t have a celebrity crush on Chat Noir. She had been in love with him. And he had obliterated her trust. Adrien reeled from the revelation that he had not only hurt Ladybug, but also Marinette. He tried to preserve his friendship with Marinette without realizing that he had already sabotaged the foundation. The cycle of destruction never rested and he had been foolish to believe Marinette was exempt. He wrecked it before their friendship had even begun.
Why hadn’t he seen it before? In retrospect it seemed obvious. Of course the only two people he ever felt comfortable with were the same person. Of course he had fallen in love with her twice. He had been at Françoise-Dupont for a year and had no solid leads on Ladybug’s identity until now. He was beginning to think he was wrong about his assumption that Ladybug attended that school. He considered every girl there, with no evidence to suggest they were Ladybug—except Marinette. He never investigated her. Why? Maybe he always knew, subconsciously refused to look into her because he knew what he was going to find. Adrien covered his face with his hands.
The idea repeated inside his head incessantly. Marinette was Ladybug. Marinette was Ladybug. Marinette was Ladybug. Every time it sunk a little deeper into his soul, doubt faded with every echo. He would have to fight her. It was the only way to fix his mistake. But…would this be a mistake too? To intentionally hurt the person he cared about most to correct the ruin he caused? Could more destruction ever repair the damage?
Adrien removed his hands from his face and looked up at his computer. The glowing screen portrayed a picture of Adrien and his mother sitting together, twin smiles plain on their faces. His heart ached to see her smile again—to see her again.
He didn’t know the right answer to his dilemma, but he knew one thing: his suspicion—no matter how strongly he believed it to be true—was not enough to jeopardize his friendship with Marinette. He needed unambiguous proof, and he knew exactly how to get it.
A/N: Reminder that this is only part of the chapter so read the rest here
#Miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug fic#ml fic#ml enemies au#ladynoir enemies#adrienette#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#marichat#angst#angst fic#my fic
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Cyrus woke up. His pupils were dilated, his eyes open wide, his heart was beating much faster than normal and his muscles were tense. The whole room was dark and silent. Without even thinking, he clenched his fists, holding tight to the sheets. He felt the bitter feeling of anxiety taking over his body as he started to breathe more and more quickly, feeling the beads of sweat rolling down his face and chills running down his spine.
He tried to look around, but felt paralyzed. It was getting hard to breathe. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the step-by-step his therapist had taught him, but focusing on that seemed very difficult at the moment. The only thing he could remember clearly was that he had to slow down his breathing...
He closed his eyes and started breathing in slowly, counting the seconds in order to control the movement of his diaphragm. He remembered now. He was supposed to focus on reality... describe his surroundings. But it was too dark to see properly... Very dark and very silent... How could he describe the world if he couldn't see it? Was it all even real?
That one recurring question, that always came to his mind in moments of difficulty, was the most terrifying part of it all. Was it real? Was the room real? Was his bed real? Was he actually there? His housemates, were they actual people? Had all that time really passed and had all the things he lived really happened or had it all been just a lie, a delusion, a hallucination? Had he ever really left the Distortion World...? And was it there, staring at him with its bright red eyes...?
No, he shouldn't focus on those thoughts. Focusing on objective aspects of the real world was vital at that moment. No speculation would be beneficial under those circumstances, what he had to do was simple, practical and clear observation of the material world. The real world. It was there, it was real, he could see it and sense it...
Not that he hadn't felt and seen things before that he later realized were not real... Back in there, in the Distortion World... Under the effect of Giratina's mind tricks... The boundaries between reality and delirium were unclear.
Still, he had left that place. He had to believe he had really left that place... because if not... No. No “ifs”. It was not time for “ifs”. Keep it simple. Practical. Cold. Objective. He had always been like that, practical and objective, so why was it so hard? It wouldn't be that hard if he could just calm down... He had to calm down.
He opened his eyes, now breathing much slower than before, and glanced around. The first thing he was able to make out in the darkness was his digital clock, or rather, the glowing green numbers on its screen. It was a quarter past three. He waited for a few seconds, still working on his breathing, until the number five turned into a six. Yes, time was passing. He felt his muscles relaxing slowly. His fingers finally let go of the sheets.
He glanced around. He could see his books, his computer and his mirror, reflecting the dim moonlight coming from his window. Mentally, he described them. Their colors, their positions, their shapes... the fear started to fade away as he slowly started to believe once again that the world around him was real. He had no proof, no indications whatsoever that his current reality was fake. Everything was in place... Everything was normal. Everything was fine.
Less than ten minutes later, he had already completely calmed down. He stretched his muscles and sat up on his bed, then sighed. It had been a while since the last time he had had a nightmare... He had almost forgotten how bad they were... Compared to his post-Distortion-World night terrors, his old childhood nightmares about his parents and bad school grades seemed like a joke. His nightmares back then were just bad dreams... the ones he had now were more like flashbacks. Terrifying, painful flashbacks...
But how could he have had a nightmare after all? Where was Ayumu? He cleared his throat and stood up. Clearly, Ayumu wasn't in the room with him... But that was strange, to say the least. Ayumu had been trained specifically not to do that, and up to that point he had never failed to fulfill his duty.
Cyrus left his room and walked through the hallway straight to the stairs. If Ayumu had left his room, then it had most likely gone downstairs, since all the other doors were closed on the second floor. There was light coming from the living room and Cyrus started to suspect that someone else was awake other than him.
His suspicions were soon proven to be right. Walking downstairs, he saw Archie, sitting on an armchair near the window, with Ayumu levitating next to him.
“Archie?” said Cyrus, in a mix of confusion and annoyance.
The other man turned his head at him. “Oh, hey there, Cyrus...” he said.
“What are you doing with Ayumu?” asked the Galactic Boss, approaching his housemate, but looking at his Pokémon.
“Oh... sorry, Cy” replied the Aqua Boss, “I borrowed Ayumu for a bit, hope you don't mind.”
“In fact, I very much do mind it.” Explained Cyrus, his intonation a bit more emphatic than his usual. “As far as I know, 'borrowing' implies on my knowledge and consent regarding your temporary possession of my belongings.”
Archie winced a little “Sheesh, Cyrus... Don't call the poor little fellow a 'belonging'... he's a Pokémon after all! A little living being like you or me...”
“I am aware of that, but he is currently under my care and therefore in my possession either way,” said the blue-haired man, “besides, Ayumu isn't only any useless Pokémon. He has a task to fulfill and you should not interrupt him on it.”
The other man hesitated a little before replying.
“Hey, wait a minute... No Pokémon is useless! Every little Pokémon has something to offer! Just like people! Everyone has something to give!”
Cyrus sighed heavily before continuing to speak.
“You are deviating from the topic. My point is: do not take Ayumu away in the middle of the night again. And please ask before taking anything from me.”
“Ay, captain!” Nodded Archie, not offended by the other man's complaints. “Sorry about that... Just didn't wanna wake you up, you see? You were sleeping so tight...That's why I didn't ask you before taking him.”
“Well, I would most likely have preferred to wake up with you than the way I did just now...” he said, looking away. “What are you doing awake at a time like this anyway?” he added, afraid that Archie might ask any questions.
Archie's face suddenly fell. “Oh well...” he said, “I'm worried about Maxie. He hasn't arrived yet...”
“From?”
“He went to a concert,” explained the Aqua Boss, “some tribute to an old guitarist who died or something like that... I was gonna go with him, but I was feeling sorta sick on my tummy... he ended up going with Tabitha...” For a few seconds, he remained in silence. “But he should have arrived by now.... and he doesn't answer his phone... I'm just so worried...”
“Hm” groaned Cyrus, unsure of what to say. The other man continued.
“That's why I took Ayumu, by the way! I thought since he's a psychic type, maybe he could help me calm down... I mean, I know several psychic types are capable of soothing people's nerves with their hypnotic abilities and so on...”
Cyrus squinted his eyes.
“Ayumu is a Munna, and Munnas are dream eaters... They are not interested in your mind unless you are sleeping,” he explained.
Archie chuckled, “oh well, Munnas do like a good sleepy noodle, that's true! But that doesn't mean they can't do other stuff! I've seen videos of Munnas that learned to eat away troubling thoughts from people's brains while they were awake!”
“Well,” replied the Galactic Boss, while gently placing his hand on Ayumu's head, “other Munnas may be able to calm people down while they are awake, but not Ayumu. He has been trained to eat my nightmares specifically, and nothing else.”
The other man seemed surprised. “Oh!” he exclaimed, “so you taught him which dreams he should eat? That's really neat!”
“No I didn't...” said Cyrus, “he was already trained when I received him... My psychologist has given him to me...” he made a brief pause, “I need him to be able to sleep properly...”
“Oooh” answered Archie, “so he's a service Pokémon! I didn't know that! Why didn't you tell anyone?”
Cyrus shrugged. “No one ever asked.”
“Heh!” chuckled Archie again, crossing his legs, “well, you know, boyo, people sometimes tell their friends things that they didn't ask about!”
“Yes, I've observed this phenomenon. It is very annoying” replied Cyrus.
“It's not annoying...” protested the other man, “that's how conversations go!”
“Precisely.” Cyrus frowned a little, “conversations are annoying. I very much prefer writing.”
The brown-haired man thought for a few seconds before replying.
“Well I've seen you giving huge speeches before... You can talk quite a lot for someone who doesn't like convos,” he said, then became silent once again. “You know, I think you're more fond of monologues... you can talk and talk without being interrupted and tell everyone what you think without other people disagreeing! That's why you like writing! 'Cause there's no one there to reply to you!” he concluded.
Cyrus widened his eyes.
“I...!” he said, but then huffed and looked away.
“What?”
“Nothing...” replied the blue-haired man, “I was about to protest, but I suppose you're right.”
Archie giggled.
“Well, I like conversations, you know? It's nice listening to people.”
“I could not disagree more,” answered Cyrus.
“Well, we're talking right now, is it that bad?”
Cyrus hesitated before replying. As much as he wanted to say “yes”, the fact is that it wasn't really that bad after all.
“It's not particularly annoying, but it is a waste of my time and yours,” he said, “which reminds me of the fact that It's past three and a half and I should be in bed right now.” he made a brief pause. “I'm going back to sleep. You should too.”
“Nah... I can't sleep...” answered Archie, once again becoming sad, “not without Maxie. You need your Munna to sleep and I need my husband.”
Cyrus raised an eyebrow.
“Didn't know Maxie was a dream eater...” he said, and Archie immediately looked up at him.
“Ha! I knew you had a good sense of humor deep inside, Cyrus!”
“That was not humor,” replied the other man, glancing away for a second.
“No?” asked Archie, frowning confused, “what was it then?”
Cyrus looked down, silent. He thought for almost a whole minute.
“Sophism,” he finally said and, upon realizing his housemate didn't seem to be familiar with the word, he developed, “a conclusion that seems to be correct according to the information given, but that is resultant from a false correlation between its elements and, therefore, is incorrect.”
Archie didn't seem to understand the whole explanation, but nodded anyway.
“OK... So, why did you use this sophism thingy right now?”
Once again, Cyrus was caught off guard. He stared at Archie for a short moment.
“I... don't know...” he confessed, “I just see people employing sophism in conversations all the time, so I guess I just... copied the behavior?” he started walking in small circles while he explained, “in fact, you had just used sophism yourself, when you compared my situation with Ayumu to your situation regarding Maxie... You created a false correlation, all I did was add the resultant incorrect conclusion. I mean, if I understood correctly, the reason why you cannot sleep without Maxie is because you're worried... this is a variable that is acting upon you right now, not a constant state. That, however, doesn't apply to me. I cannot sleep without Ayumu at any moment, regardless of what I am experiencing on that moment. Therefore, while your dependency on Maxie is situational, my dependency of Ayumu is invariable. It's not the same relation... Meaning your correlation was incorrect, despite the fact it seemed rational,” he concluded, then opened his arms, looking at Archie, and said “Sophism.”
Archie scratched his chin.
“Hm... you do know I was just joking, right, boyo?” he asked, and Cyrus blushed a little.
“So you mean to tell me that average people consider arriving at incorrect conclusions funny?” he asked, confused.
“Well, yeah,” replied the other man, “for example: peas are green... and melons are also green! Peas are round... and melons too! Peas come from plants and so do melons... that means melons are just very large peas!” he explained, then laughed a little and stared at Cyrus with a big smile on his face, but his housemate didn't show any reaction.
“Come on, it was funny,” added Archie.
“I'm not good with jokes...” explained the Galactic Boss, looking down.
“Meh... That's fine...” answered the Aqua Boss, “It was a pretty lame joke actually...”
There was a moment of silence. Archie kept staring at the window, fidgeting with his hands, while Cyrus remained still, not sure if it would be socially acceptable to just leave at that point.
The Aqua Boss sighed.
“Well...” said Cyrus. “Since Ayumu is unable to help you soothe your anxiety right now, I'm going to take him back with me...”
“Oh, yeah, sure!” said Archie, as if coming back to reality from a deep trance, “sorry again about taking him, I didn't know he was a therapy friend...” he thought for a few seconds, “you... you said he eats your bad dreams right? I hope you didn't have any sort of nightmare or anything because I took him...”
Cyrus looked away, slightly uncomfortable with that topic.
“Uhm. Yeah, to tell you the truth I did.”
“Oof... Sorry...” said Archie, “I really didn't want to cause that much trouble. Hope it wasn't a really bad nightmare.”
“It is always bad. That's part of the definition of a nightmare.” said the Galactic Boss, running out of patience.
“You wanna talk about it?” asked Archie.
Cyrus glanced at him.
“The only person who ever asked me that before was my therapist.”
“Well, I'm not a therapist, but I don't know... Talking can help sometimes!” answered the other man.
“There isn't much to talk about.” said Cyrus, “It was just a collection of vivid flashbacks from my most traumatic experiences, like always...”
“That... sounds like a lot to talk about actually, boyo.”
“Well, if I were to describe it and explain the whole thing, it would certainly take a while. But there is no point in talking about it. And I honestly would prefer not to...” he said, then made a short pause before continuing, “I've had a good share of discomfort by revisiting them in dreams already, I don't wanna repeat that by revisiting it via descriptions now.”
“I understand... You don't have to tell me if it makes you feel bad, Cy.” said Archie, in a way that reminded Cyrus of his therapist again. “I just wanted you to know that you can always talk to me if you feel like you need to open up to someone, alright?”
“Uhm... OK.” answered the other man, nodding and looking down. He didn't have lots of experience with that kind of talk. It sounded like something he should have heard from his parents when he was a child, but never did. No one had ever told him this kind of thing before. He didn't really know why, but that was comforting, and he started to feel like talking more. “Since you said this...” he added, timidly, “I suppose I'm going to share something else. I had a brief anxiety attack after waking up just now.”
“Oof...” said Archie, “I've never had one of those, but I know they are pretty awful.”
“Yes. But I was able to contain it,” added Cyrus, almost proudly, “my therapist has taught me some techniques to calm down.”
“That's great!” said Archie, “Proud of you, boyo! It's probably difficult to stop that from happening. Guess that's progress, eh?”
“I... guess...” said Cyrus. “Thanks.”
Archie looked down.
“I'm feeling sorta bad, though... You had that anxiety thingy because of me, right? Because I took Ayumu?”
“Yes, I guess that's not incorrect,” said Cyrus, “It was a consequence of my nightmare, which only occurred due to Ayumu's absence, so yes, it was an indirect consequence of your actions.”
“Darn...” replied Archie. “I'm sorry, Cy. I'm never gonna take Ayumu again! Promise!”
“That's good” said the blue-haired man.
“I wanted to soothe my anxiety and ended up making yours worse... Bad, Archie! Bad!” He said, then sighed again and looked at the window. He was still thinking about Maxie.
“If you have anxiety, then you should go see a psychologist too, you know?” said Cyrus.
“Oh, no, no, sorry!” explained the Aqua Boss, “I don't have anxiety, like... the disorder. I was talking about this feeling of uneasiness, you know? It's just something I'm feeling right now.”
“Oh” answered Cyrus, then scratched his head, “and... do you want to talk about it?” he asked, trying to be polite.
“Yeah, if you don't mind it...” said the other one, “I mean, I told you before, I'm worried about Maxie... You see, he is the most important person in my life! So, well... I know he must be OK, but I can't help thinking that something bad might have happened, you know? What if they had an accident? Or maybe they were mugged! Or maybe...” he put his hand over his mouth and shook his head, “Anything could have happened... And when I think about that... I think about how bad it would be If I ever lost him... I just...” he swallowed hard, “I don't know what I would do without him... I can't even think about it...”
“Hm...” said Cyrus, “Why do you think something bad happened to him, though?”
“Because it's almost four and he hasn't shown up! Or messaged me!” said Archie.
“What time should he have arrived?”
“He said 'something between two and three in the morning'...” he replied, then crossed his arms, “I mean, it hasn't been that long, he is not that late... but it's Maxie, he would have either messaged me or called if he knew he would be late...” Saying that, Archie puffed and fidgeted, clearly very nervous. He continued, “I'm just so worried... I mean, I love Maxie, but he's not an excellent driver... What if he crashed? Darn! I just hope he didn't crash the car... I hope he didn't... I hope he is not hurt!”
“uh...” began to say Cyrus, but soon noticed Archie wasn't done speaking yet.
“I should have gone with him!” continued the other man, “I shouldn't have stayed home just because of a sore tummy... I'm not even sick anymore! I could have gone with him... I should have! If I had gone with him, I could have avoided this...”
“This what?” asked Cyrus.
“This... This situation!” answered Archie.
“But you don't know what the situation is, therefore you don't know if you could have avoided it...” replied the Galactic Boss.
“Uh... Yeah...” said Arche, “I guess, but... What I meant is, if I were with him, if anything went wrong, I could at least try to protect him...”
“I don't believe being with him would have changed the outcome of the situation. Consider he had a car accident. You don't drive, so he would have been the one driving either way. Chances are, he would have had the accident anyway. Or if he got mugged... If a person was willing to mug him and Tabitha, the same person might as well have mugged him if he were with you. And resisting it would be worse, so it would have been the same.” explained Cyrus.
“Well... Yeah...” replied the Aqua Boss, “But I don't know, I would at least be with him... At least I would know what's going on...”
“Yes, that makes sense,” the blue-haired man crossed his arms, thoughtful, “your uneasiness right now results from the fact that you don't know what is going on with your husband... However, if you do not know what happened, that means trying to solve the problem now will be pointless.”
“Well, I'm not trying to solve it... I'm just... I'm just worried...”
“What for, though? I mean, very well, it will be very bad if something negative has happened to Maxie. However, you have no evidence of that whatsoever” said Cyrus, “while Maxie could have had a car accident or gotten hurt in any other way, he also could have gotten lost in a place with no phone signal, or the concert could have lasted much longer than it should have and it's still going on... or he could have stopped to eat something in a cheap restaurant and Tabitha got stuck in the toilet stall and they are trying to open the door, and that is occupying him so much that he forgot to call you. There is a nearly uncountable number of possibilities of things that could have happened, and you do not know which one has actually happened... Therefore, keeping your mind busy with trying to figure out something that, for all practical purposes, is impossible to find out right now... That is pointless.”
“Whoa...” said Archie, “Hold your Mudsdales, boyo... I think I got lost somewhere in your explanation.”
“I'm going to try to explain again, then,” said the other man, “my therapist told me to examine my thoughts regarding anxiety, panic and fear. One of the things I was taught is to analyze whether or not there is empirical evidence that can confirm the thoughts I am having. That is, is there anything I can actually observe that indicates something is wrong right now, or is everything coming from my own mind?”
“Well... Maxie is late... that is real, it's a fact” said Archie.
“It is. However, the only objective conclusion we can take from this I that, most probably, something unexpected happened to Maxie tonight. Still, we don't have how to verify whether or not this unexpected event has harmed Maxie in any way or not...”
“Hm.. Yeah, I mean... I don't know if he's hurt or not...”
“Exactly. You don't even know if he had a real problem or not,” said Cyrus, “and yet you already deduced you should have gone with him to avoid a hypothetical problem that may not even be real, and if real could not even be avoidable to begin with.”
Archie sighed, then smiled a little.
“Yeah... Maybe he's just fine... but what if he isn't?”
“Is there anything you can do if he isn't?” asked Cyrus, “Is there any way you might know if he isn't?”
“No...” said Archie, “and that... is scary...”
Cyrus opened his mouth a little, but said nothing. He looked down.
“I get that” he said, after a few seconds, “fear is... pretty much irrational. And sometimes the things our mind comes up with are really terrifying...”
Archie nodded.
“But we need to try to fight back rationally,” continued the other man, “because, well... if you just listen to all the horrible things your mind can make up, you will end up paralyzed with fear. The fact is that the possibilities are endless when you start to think about what could have been, or what could be... Sometimes I look around and I ask myself 'what if none of this is real and one day I just wake up in the Distortion World'... And that's very... well,” he looked away once again, ashamed, “scary...” he said. “But I can't live every day of my life in fear that at any moment I'll wake up in another reality. I have to be down to earth and rational and base my thoughts on what I can actually observe... On what is materially, objectively and undoubtedly real...”
“I didn't know you felt that way, boyo...” said Archie, “Don't worry, though. I'm here and I can guarantee to you that this house is real, no Distortion World here!”
“Hm... Thanks for this addition,” said Cyrus, “still, let's get back to your problem. The reason I said all this is because you have to be rational now and try to contain your anxiety. If there is no evidence that Maxie is hurt right now, and there is nothing you can do to verify that or to change that, so avoid thinking about that. It is better to hope for the best instead...”
“Heh...” chuckled Archie, “You're right, boyo... Not that it isn't difficult not to wonder what could have happened...”
“The fact is that so far, his absence can be explained by many different things. If he had been absent for, let's say... two days, or something... That would have narrowed the possible explanations. The longer he has been away, the less explanations you can think of, so you have more reasons to believe something bad has actually happened. But so far, it's still not that much time, as you said earlier...”
“True”, said the Aqua Boss, “maybe I should at least wait a bit longer...”
“I think that sounds reasonable.”
“Yeah...”
Once again, there was a brief moment of silence.
“Thanks for talking to me about this, Cy!” said Archie, smiling, “it really helped me. I'm still worried... But I feel a bit calmer.”
“You're welcome,” said Cyrus, “I didn't expect to be able to help, honestly.”
“Well, I told you everyone has something to give!” Archie smiled.
“Usually what I have to give is knowledge in physics, though”, answered the Galactic boss, and suddenly the other man started laughing.
“I like your jokes, Cyrus...” he said, still giggling.
“It was not a joke” replied the other man.
“It was still funny.”
“Well, I'm going back to my room and try to sleep the rest of the night,” said Cyrus.
“Okie! Have a good rest, Cy... I'll be here waiting for Max...”
Cyrus turned around and headed to the staircase, Ayumu following him right after. As soon as he started going up the stairs, he heard the front door opening.
“Maxie!” he heard Archie say, and looked back at the living room. The Magma Boss had just entered the house and the two men were hugging.
“Oh, Archie... I'm so sorry! My phone ran out of battery and Tabitha forgot his phone charging again!” said Maxie, “I couldn't warn you I'd get home late...”
Cyrus started going upstairs again, but still could hear the couple's conversation.
“I was so worried, baby...” said Archie... “what happened?”
“Well, The show was great, but they gave so many encores that when we left, the subways had already stopped running... So I had to take Tabitha to his house, and it's on the other side of the city so...”
The Galactic Boss entered his room, followed by his Munna. It was exactly 4 a.m.
“Well. I've got three hours of sleep left, Ayumu,” he said, “Could have saved nearly an hour if I hadn't stayed so long with Archie... But that's OK.”
Ayumu gently floated down and laid on Cyrus' bed. The blue-haired man sat down by the Pokémon's side, patted it on the back and then laid down on his bed next to it. He closed his eyes and soon fell asleep again. Ayumu snuggled up against his trainer and, within less than a minute, a thick magenta stream of mist started exhaling from the pink circle between his eyes.
——
(Scene by GabiWaffle)
#DBAMCWrittenScenes#pokémon#pokemon villains#pokévillains#galactic boss cyrus#aqua boss archie#Hardenshipping#DBAMCHeadcanon#tw delusion#triggering content#trigger warning#ptsd trigger#ptsd#tw ptsd#tw trauma#tw hallucinations#tw nightmares#tw night terrors#tw anxiety#tw panic attack#tw mental health#tw delirium#mental illness#nightmares#text post#fiction#fanfiction
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Chapter Thirty-Five:
The One With the Attempted Rescue
Violet Snicket shook in pure unbridled hatred as the echoes of Count Olaf’s maniacal laughter slowly but surely vanished from the village’s town hall. She turned to hector and Klaus, her face unrecognizable. “ Let’s go,” she hissed stomping her feet as she stormed out. Klaus and Hector looked at one another nervously as they followed Violet out of Town Hall. She was silent as she walked passed the Fowl Fountain.
“Violet,” Klaus called out nervously as he helped the frail Hector walk.
“ Shut up,” she hissed, not even turning around to look at her younger brother. She ripped her ribbon out of her hair again, began to fiercely tie it back up as she walked.
Klaus was taken back by his sister’s tone. “Violet...are you okay?”
She turned around quickly. Her face was soaked with hot, angry tears. Her eyes were dark but glossed over. “ I said...shut up. I’m thinking,” she hissed. Klaus slowly nodded as Violet began to walk again barely paying him and Hector any mind.
No, not again. She thought to herself. Olaf wasn’t going to take anyone else from her. She repeated in her head. She felt sick to her stomach. Not only did Olaf take her girlfriend and her close friend back at Prufrock, but he also attempted to take her brother from her and was successful when he switched plans last-minute, taking her baby sister from her. She shook angrily as she then thought about how he had taken away her previous guardian, by not only being secretly in cahoots with one of them but he made the other think that she and Klaus were too troublesome to take care of. She growled as she then thought about her father. She knew deep down she didn’t have any proof to tie Olaf to the death of her father. Although, what she did have was something. A wheezy voice...similar to Olaf. The VFD tattoo...which Olaf also possessed. Also, the detailed fact that Olaf had recognized her father that same night and when he did recognize her father he was not happy. All of this was circumstantial and coincidental but Violet had her suspicions that her theory was correct. So for the time being, Violet was going to assume that he also took her father from her. Which was the worst thing he could have done to her. She was determined to not allow him to take anyone else from her and that included her Uncle Jacques. She was going to rescue him, her sister, her close friend, and her girlfriend. It may be too late to save her father but she refuses to let Olaf take anyone else from her. She was going to show him that he was messing with the wrong Snicket. She just had to think of a way to break Jacques out of jail. She sighed angrily. Snickets take care of their own. Her mind reminded her. But unfortunately for her, it wasn’t her voice telling her that or even her uncle’s voice. It was her father’s voice. A voice that struck her to her core. Remember Violet, Snickets take care of their own. She could hear him say. She never truly understood why he always repeated that to her. It was always only ever them. Did he know this day would come? She asked herself. Did he know one day he wouldn’t be here with me?
It is a sad thing, pondering the intentions of the people you miss the most, who are unfortunately never coming back to you. With all the VFD stuff and the Olaf bullshit, Violet felt that she never truly knew her father. There were so many doors he left closed tight, some even locked and Violet had to find a way to open them all. She wished he wasn't so secretive. If he would’ve just told her about VFD, about his mistakes, about himself maybe she’d be more prepared to save everybody. She sighed as she opened up her locket glancing at the two photos that now preoccupied the space. She looked to the photo of her mother. What would you do? She wondered. Her father always told her that her mother was a badass who kicked ass. She needed to be that right now. But how? She was a fourteen-year-old girl, who was in way over her head. The amount of weight that she currently carried on her shoulders was enough to make her give up. To surrender to Olaf and Esme but then she glanced at the newest photo in her locket and knew deep down that she couldn’t surrender to them. She had to keep fighting. It was what her mother would do. It was what her father would do. It was what she had to do. She made a promise. Not only to her dead parents but to her alive siblings and most importantly, to herself. She planned to finish the job that her father set out to do. She refused to let his death be for nothing. He was to die young, it wouldn’t be for nothing.
With the addition to saving Jacques, her head was spinning. As she finally reached Hector’s house, she pulled her ribbon roughly out of her hair again and began tying it up as she walked to the handyman’s barn.
“Good idea,” Hector said as he began to walk faster to catch up to Violet. He turned to Klaus. “Thank you for helping me home,”
He quickly unlocked the barn. “Now we can leave,” he said as he rushed towards his hot air mobile home.
Violet and Klaus both looked at him in shock.
“What?” Klaus asked.
“We have to go,” he said. The children could tell he was in a panic. “Count Olaf only broke one rule and he is going to be burned at the stake. Imagine what they’d do to me if they discovered this barn,” he exclaimed gesturing to everything that was in the barn.
Violet stood quietly, but she looked clearly annoyed.
Klaus sighed. “That’s not Count Olaf.” He explained as calmly as he could. “The real Olaf is disguised as Detective Dumbass. He’s working with your chief of police, who’s really Esme Squalor, and they’ve framed the man who was trying to rescue Sunny and the Quagmires which is Jacques Snicket, Violet’s uncle,” he explained. “You have to believe us,” Klaus pleaded. “No one else would,”
“Of course, I believe you. That’s why we have to get out of town,”
“No,” Violet muttered in a tone that worried Klaus.
“Things are scary and complicated, though,” Hector explained.
“Things are always scary and complicated,” Klaus argued.
“Either way, children, we have to go,” Hector explained nervously.
Klaus simply shook his head defiantly as Violet looked ready to murder Hector for even suggesting that.
“You’re going to let an innocent man be burnt at the stake?!” Violet shrieked at Hector. Causing both him and Klaus to jump.
“Look, no one likes the idea of an innocent man being burnt alive...well hardly anyone,” Hector argued. “But if we don’t escape now, we could be next!” he warned.
“NO!” Violet yelled. “ We will NOT leave him to die!” She yelled. “He’s my uncle! My father…” she sobbed. “My father...my father gave his life to save my siblings..” she reasoned. “ I will NOT abandon his! We are staying here and saving Jacques!”
Violet was now full-blown crying. She wiped her tears harshly from her face. “My father risked everything for Klaus and Sunny,” she reiterated. “He came out of hiding….he...he...he...rejoined VFD...to save two children that he didn’t even know!” she screeched. Her tears were falling. Klaus stood there awkwardly. He frowned unsure of whether Violet blamed him and Sunny for the loss of her father or if she was explaining her motivations to Hector. Either way, he felt like shit. “He did that because he knew they would have meant the world to me if I knew they existed. He did that because he was a kind, decent, noble man. I will not fail him now!”
She pulled the ribbon in her hair tighter until she winced. “He’s not... that fucker isn’t taking anyone else from me ever again! ” she screamed, punching the side of the hot air mobile home. “ I won’t let him!”
“Violet…” Klaus replied. “You...okay?”
“Do I look okay, Klaus?” she snapped. She pointed to her tear stricken face. “Is this the face of someone who is okay?”
Klaus shook his head slowly. As Violet began pacing around Hector’s barn angrily. “Who here knows how to break a man out of prison?” she asked.
Klaus shifted where he stood. Slightly terrified of his older sister. “I mean...you realize who you’re asking, right?”
“Ugh!” she sighed. “You’re so fucking useless!” She yells slamming her fist on the mobile home’s engine not caring that her act of aggression backfired and caused her a bit of pain.
Klaus frowned. “Hey…I’m not useless…” he replied meekly, but as he said it, he shut his mouth. Compared to you...I am useless. He thought to himself. “Well...maybe you’re right,” he muttered meekly at a volume where she couldn’t hear him or if she did, she didn’t respond to him.
She continued to pace around, now counting her fingertips. She was too preoccupied trying to save her uncle and making her father proud that she didn’t realize how hurtful her words were to Klaus. Klaus sat down in a small chair glancing over Isadora’s couplets again. His sister’s words echoing through his mind, bringing his biggest insecurity to the forefront of his mind. He felt useless. Even if she didn’t mean it, he believed it. He always felt useless even before he had met his powerhouse of an older sister but the addition of her to their side of this insane battle has highlighted how useless he felt. He was a terrible older sibling, he was unable to protect Sunny. Violet may have failed on that front as well, but she was able to save him and that counts for something. He felt like he was a terrible younger sibling, something he was slowly getting used to. He constantly excluded Violet, but it was never on purpose it was a force of habit. He was raised for a vast majority of his life as an only child, so he was used to not having any siblings and then slowly Sunny showed up and then Violet. He sighed as he watched her still pacing, kicking random objects in anger. He wondered what did he bring to this team? When he truly thought about it, he couldn’t answer it. Sunny had her teeth and her wits. She has used both on countless occasions to save him. That’s why she was in this situation in the first place. She bit Olaf’s hand to get him to let go of him. She saved him but he failed to help her. Then there was Violet, who was not only smart, especially when it comes to mechanics and inventing, but she was most definitely a force to not be reckoned with. She was resilient, like their mother. She was a badass. She was tough. He felt all he ever did was fuck up or retreat in fear. As he watched Violet pace back and forth desperately, he wondered if he and Sunny would have ever survived without her or her father. He looked at Violet and all he could think about was that he wished that he could be her. He wanted to be just like her. But he felt deep down that was just an impossible dream that was better left ignored and forgotten. So when Violet called him useless, he took it to heart because to him, she just validated his biggest insecurity.
Hector sighed breaking the silence. “Look,” he said slowly backing away from Violet. “Maybe we should work on the self-sustaining hot air mobile home,” he suggested timidly.
Violet turned to him with fury in her eyes. “No, we are breaking my uncle out of jail!”
“And saving the Quagmires and Sunny,” Klaus added meekly.
“Yes, yes. Trust me, I’m still going to do that,” she reassured. “I’m gonna save... I’ve got to save everyone, ” she said out loud more so to herself than to anybody else.
Klaus frowned. “Stand down, big soldier,” he replied using nearly the same phrase that Violet said to him back at Prufrock when he begged her not to get involved. He remembered that day vividly. He stormed out of the lunchroom to cry, as per usual. She followed him like a good big sister. Even on day one, she was a better older sibling than you were. He told himself. When Violet had seen all the weight on Klaus’ shoulders, she looked to him and told him ‘stand down, little soldier. Big sister is here.’ He scoffed. Angry with himself. He was angry because he remembered how bitter he was towards Sunny when she was first born. He was angry with himself because he was unable to convince Violet, Duncan, and Isadora to stay out of his troubles. He didn’t know if getting them to listen to him would have ended out better for him and Sunny. But as he glanced at Violet. He knew that if he had been able to convince her and the Quagmires to bud out. It would have been better for them. Duncan and Isadora would be safe at Prufrock, only having to deal with mundane teachers, horrible violin recitals, and a schoolyard bully instead of dealing with a murderous kidnapper with no sense of humanity left. And Violet, if he had succeeded in getting her to listen to him, she wouldn’t be having a midlife crisis at the ripe age of fourteen and she wouldn’t be a target for a man who had sinister and wicked intentions for her that stem passed what he has planned for Sunny and himself. Now he could see the world was on her shoulders and he didn’t think that was fair. He knew what that felt like. But Violet said it perfectly herself. He was useless. What could he truly do to help her? If anyone was going to save Duncan, Isadora, Sunny, and Jacques. It would be Violet, not himself.
Violet gave Klaus a small smile. She knew exactly what he was referencing. But she couldn’t stand down.
“Look, no offense to your uncle. I am sure he is a good man,” Hector began. “But...we really should leave...the Council of Elders will burn us at the stake if they caught us in this barn.”
Violet stomped her feet angrily. “ I don’t give a fuck! Pour some kerosene on me and let me burn!” She screamed. “ I’d rather feel that than let my father down!” she screeched.
“Vi…” Klaus said worryingly.
She glared at him with a face that he had never seen before. “ Snickets take care of their own!” she yelled loudly. “I’m not leaving my uncle. Or our sister or the Quagmires.”
“I know…” Klaus stated trying his best to calm Violet down.
“ He’s not taking anyone else from me! ” she screamed before finally falling on her butt, defeated. “He...he’s not...he can’t...I won’t let him,” she whimpered as she sat defeated on the floor of the barn. Klaus cautiously walked closer to her.
“Vi...you’re stressing yourself out,” he watched as his sister began crying once more. Placing her head into her lap as she began to hiccup in between cries. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She slowly looked up at him, he offered her a smile.
“I don’t care,” she said finally, wiping tears from her eyes. “I have to...I have to save everyone,” she explained.
Klaus sighed. Deep down he knew it was true but agreeing with her wasn’t going to help her stress. “But Vi...if you’re busy saving everyone...who saves you?” he asked.
She tilted her head in confusion as she shrugged her shoulders. “The hero doesn’t need saving in this scene,” she said finally. Klaus simply frowned. “Besides, I’ll save myself.”
Klaus’ frown intensified when she said it. But she didn’t notice, she went back to tying up her hair. Calmly this time. Klaus wasn’t surprised by her answer. He knew she wasn’t going to tell him that he would save her. Because you’re useless. Sunny would be able to save Violet long before you ever could. He told himself.
Violet began to slowly smile as an idea came to her, finally. “I think I’ve got it,” she said.
“Well, if your plan involves murdering the real Olaf, I’m down,” Klaus said smiling.
“We’ll deal with him later,” Violet noted as she stood up walking towards Hector’s invention.
Hector smiled. “I am glad you have come to your senses,”
“We’re not leaving,’ violet reiterated. “Not yet, at least. Once we save Sunny, the Quagmires, and my uncle...we’ll need an escape plan. Besides, even if I did want to leave right now, which I don’t. We couldn’t. You said you didn’t finish testing the engine. What if your engine conductivity is low?” Violet asked.
“She has a point,” Klaus pointed out, following his sister to the mobile home’s engine. “Low engine conductivity is a leading cause in aircraft failure.”
“It has been making sputtery noises,” Hector admitted.
“See? You don’t want to be in the air with a faulty engine,”
“That wouldn’t be safe,”
“Or self-sustaining,” Violet added.
“Neither would being burned at the stake. But what choice do we have?” Hector asked.
Klaus watched as Violet knelt in front of the engine, studying it. She untied her hair and began to tie it up again. “You could let my sister fix it,”
Violet looked to Hector. “If you wait until we’re ready,” she said hesitantly.
“You’d do that for me?” Hector asked.
“If you’d do that for us,” Violet replied.
“And what if you can’t fix it?” Hector asked skeptically.\
Klaus laughed. “This is Violet Snicket that we are talking about,” Klaus replied, glancing from Hector to Violet, who smiled up at him. “She can always fix it.”
“Thanks, bro,” Violet replied.
“No problem, sis,” Klaus replied.
Violet sighed as she began to work on Hector’s engine. Both Klaus and Hector watched the fourteen-year-old mechanical genius. “Here’s your problem,” she explained pointing at wires. “You need solid 12-gauge wires. These are stranded 14.” she looked to Hector. “I need wire cutters, banana plugs, and a small oiling can,”
He quickly grabbed the supplies that she needed. As she waited, Klaus could hear her muttering. ‘Snickets take care of their own’. Once Hector handed her the supplies she went to work fixing the engine. After a few minutes, she sighed again.
“I need your biggest wrench,”
Hector handed her his biggest wrench and watched as she hit the engine as hard as she could with it. The sputtering sound turned to the sound that a healthy engine makes. Hector, Violet, and Klaus all smiled. Hector excitedly cheered and patted Violet on the shoulder. But the siblings didn’t cheer. To them, the prospect of leaving this vile village and Olaf’s clutches permanently sounded amazing. But they weren’t sure if this is how they wanted to do it. Violet and Klaus looked at one another both thinking about the promises they had made. They looked at Hector, who was the only citizen in this vile village that seemed to genuinely care about the two siblings as a real guardian should. They then looked at Hector’s invention remembering how they felt when they watched the VFD crows fly in superlative circles and how they both had wished that they, too, could escape from all their worries. But the two siblings felt that flying away from all their troubles and living forever up in the sky, may not be the best option nor did it seem like a proper way to live one’s life. Sunny was just a toddler. The Quagmires were only thirteen. Klaus, himself was just a twelve-year-old boy and even Violet, who was the eldest out of all five orphans, was fourteen which was not that old. The children had many things they hoped to accomplish on the ground and they weren’t sure that they could simply abandon all those hopes so early in their lives. So as they watched Hector giddily cheer on Violet’s mechanical skills they felt as though they were stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“First things first,” Violet said finally. “We need to save Jacques,”
“And get Sunny and the Quagmires out of that bastard’s clutches,” Klaus added.
The siblings turned to Hector. “I need full access to your inventing materials,” Violet said smiling.
“I’m going to need your blueprints of the uptown jail,” Klaus added.
Hector felt as though he was going to faint but he slowly nodded, walking to find his blueprints of the uptown jail.
Violet looked to Klaus. “We’re going to break a man out of a jail,” Violet said smirking. Violet tied her hair up once more with her ribbon to keep it out of her eyes as Klaus polished his glasses.
_______________________________________________________
Olaf growled as he fetched a pitcher of water and tray of bread. Esme walked in behind him, her face looking a bit on edge. “Why can’t we treat these prisoners like those orphans?” he asked her. “Do I truly have to feed them?”
“Honestly, forget the Snickets and the Baudelaires and the Quagmires,” Esme said smiling. “We don’t need to feed Snicket and his companion. He’s going to die soon anyway,” she said nervously.
Olaf smiled at the mere thought of yet another Snicket dying. “Maybe we should get it over with now,” he said putting down the pitcher and tray. “How should we do it though?” He tried to walk out of the small office but Esme blocked the exit.
“Or…” she interjected. “And I’m just spitballing here...we can...relax. You’ve been working so hard. Let’s let Hooky kill Snicket,”
Olaf frowned. “But I wanted to do it,”
“As I said, you’ve been working hard,” Esme reiterated. “Let’s just sit down and chit chat about our next move,”
“Our next move?”
“Well, you know how Beatrice stole my sugar bowl,” she explained.
He rolled his eyes at the mere mention of her sugar bowl. “Yes, I know. You never shut up about it, dear,”
Usually, Esme would have replied bitterly to that but she merely smiled through her glare. “About that,” she said. “I got Snicket’s associate to tell me it’s location,”
Olaf looked at her confused. “How the fuck did you do that?”
“Oh, I’m very persuasive,”
“But how…”
“I have my ways in making prisoners talk,”
“But…” he said still utterly confused. “How did you make her talk? You couldn’t have tortured her I would’ve heard her screams.”
“Oh, I did,’ she said. “But that’s not the point...the point is,”
“Well, if you got to torment her. I should be able to torture Snicket,” he protested.
“Forget Snicket,” Esme replied. “Let’s forget the orphans, too,”
“What?”
“I’m already rich! The sugar bowl is more valuable than their fucking money or diamonds,”
“Sapphires. Not diamonds,” he corrected. “Shiny, shiny sapphires.”
“See, sapphires are out. Orphans are out. But do you know what’s in?”
“Let me guess,” Olaf replied rolling his eyes. “Sugah bowels,” he replied mocking her.
“You are so...funny,” she replied through gritted teeth.
He glared at her. “Something’s up,” he said, glaring at her. “You’re being too nice….and you’re nervous,”
“No, I’m not. I just want to get my damn sugar bowl,”
“And we will, once we have all five orphans in our clutches and Jacques Snicket is dead,”
“Or….and again remember, orphans and sapphires are out,” Esme explained. “We can leave the kids trapped inside the fountain, leave Jacques stuck in his cell. They’ll die of hunger eventually,” she said nervously. “Let’s just go get my sugar bowl,”
He continued to glare at her. “You’re hiding something,” he said. “Did you already kill Jacques?”
“No,” she replied. “I just don’t care about the Snickets anymore.”
“We will get your sugar bowl after we’re done,” he said as he glanced towards her hip “Wait a second,” he said as she froze. “Where are the keys to the cells?” he asked.
She glanced down at her hip, faking a look of utter surprise. “I must have lost them,” she lied.
His face grew dark and cold as he glared at her. “You...better not have,” he began as he pushed passed her. He dropped to the ground and looked upside down at the open, empty cells. He scurried back to his feet, glaring at Esme. “ You dumb bitch!” he yelled. “ What have you done!?”
“Before you get too mad, remember I now know the location of the sugar bowl,” she said.
He growled loudly. “ You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! I’m so close to winning!” he yelled storming out of the small office leaving Esme by herself.
_______________________________________________________
Olivia and Jacques rushed out of the uptown jail quickly. Olivia pulling a confused Jacques along. “Do I want to know how you convinced Esme to give you the keys?” he asked.
She turned to him shyly. ‘Probably not,” she admitted.
Jacques’ face fell. “What did you do?” he asked.
“Well, I really wanted to save the kids and us so I gave Esme exactly what she wanted,” Olivia explained nervously.
“Oh no,” Jacques replied. “Please tell me you didn’t,”
Olivia sighed. “I told her the exact location of the sugar bowl,” she admitted meekly. She glanced at Jacques, she could tell he was trying his best to stay calm. “Sorry, it was the only thing I could think of,” she explained. “It worked, didn’t it?”
Jacques sighed. “You did the right thing. But now you need to get to that sugar bowl before she does,”
“What?” Olivia asked confused.
“You need to call Jacquelyn, get her to get you in touch with our top field agent. She knows where it’s hidden and she knows exactly what do to with it. It’s a woman that I trust and admire very much,” Jacques explained. “Just...don’t mention me,”
“Why?”
“Just...do not mention me to her. Jacquelyn is well aware,” Jacques explained. He handed her the keys to the Snicket taxi. “Take my taxi,’
“What about you?” Olivia asked.
“Someone needs to protect these children,” he said. “Take care of the sugar bowl. We’ll meet back up as soon as we can,”
Olivia frowned as Jacques sighed. “Promise me you’ll rescue the children.”
“I promise,”
“You’ll take care of yourself, too?”
“Of course. After I save my niece and the other kids,” Jacques explained. “I saw an abandoned fire truck. I’ll rescue the kids and hot wire that and we’ll meet up soon.”
Olivia nodded as she began to walk off. She turned around nearly forgetting something super important. “Jacques?”
“Yes, Olivia?”
“When I had negotiated the sugar bowl’s location. Our freedom wasn’t the only thing I asked for,” she explained as he looked at her confused. “They’re in the fountain,” she said as she pointed to Fowl Fountain before running off.
Jacques’ eyes widened with shock as he smiled. “Good work, volunteer!” he called out to her as he raced to the fountain. He quickly ran all around the fountain looking for some sort of button. Something that would get the fountain to open. He studied the fountain looking at every inch of it trying to wrack his brain about how anyone would be able to get three children inside it. It looked so small from the outside. He glanced towards the top of the fountain. Peering at the eyes of the fountain.
Quickly, not paying any attention to his surroundings, his heart was beating so hard, it felt like it was beating out of his chest. He hopped onto the edge of the fountain, pressing his fingers into the eyes of the giant crow statue. Nothing happened. “Come on,” he muttered to himself. Feeling the crow’s face for some handle. He placed his hand inside the crow’s beak, feeling around for a handle. Instead, he found a small button. He pressed it and jumped down from the edge of the fountain. He watched as the fountain’s torso opened. His heart shattered.
Duncan Quagmire, not even looking at who had opened the fountain, stepped in front of his sister and Sunny Baudelaire, who still wore the muzzle around her face. Duncan had his back to Jacques. “ Stay away from them!” he yelled. Acting as a human shield for his sister and Sunny, preferring to look at them rather than Olaf.
Jacques was speechless. He stared at the three dirty, wet, and bruised children. Isadora had her eyes closed but Sunny hid behind Duncan’s leg, glanced at Jacques. Looking at him confused. Jacques noticed the toddler staring at him. He gave her a small smile. She looked so much like Bertrand. He thought to himself. Sunny tried to get the older orphans' attention but the muzzle around her mouth wouldn’t allow her to communicate properly. She desperately pulled on to Duncan’s pant leg.
“It’s okay, Sunny. I won’t let him hurt you,” Duncan said placing a hand on her head.
Sunny mumbled something but Duncan and Isadora didn’t understand her. Sunny continued to look at Jacques curiously. She didn’t understand why he looked like he tried to disguise himself as Olaf but she didn’t care. He wasn’t Olaf, or Esme, or any of his troupe. She Knew that strangers were a dangerous thing and they should not be trusted but he looked kind...he looked helpful and most of all, he slightly looked like Violet’s father, who was a stranger who had helped her and Klaus. Realizing that Duncan wasn’t going to turn around and Isadora wasn’t going to open up her eyes, and the strange man wasn’t saying anything, she pushed passed Duncan causing him to turn around. “Sunny no!” he yelled as he turned around to face Jacques.
Sunny ran up to the man as he knelt down to pick her up. Isadora opened her eyes to see what Duncan was yelling about. “Who….who are you?” she asked meekly.
“Don’t hurt her,” Duncan pleaded.
Jacques carefully removed the muzzle that was around Sunny’s mouth throwing it to the ground. Sunny smiled and hugged him. “Thank you,” she said, her voice weak from not being able to speak for so long.
Duncan and Isadora looked at one another and then at the man before them. He looked up at them. “Duncan and Isadora Quagmire,” he said. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance,”
Duncan looked skeptically at Jacques as he stayed in front of his sister. Not entirely comfortable with a random male stranger knowing his sister’s name. “How do you know our names?”
“Oh, pardon me for scaring you. Where are my manners?” he said smiling. “My name is Jacques Snicket.”
Isadora’s eyes widened with happiness as Duncan felt his heart beating faster. “Snicket?” he repeated as Jacques nodded.
“As in...Violet Snicket?” Isadora asked meekly.
Jacques nodded. Sunny looked at the man who held her. “Snicket lad?” she asked.
“He was my brother,” Jacques explained. “I’m your sister’s uncle,”
“Does that mean?” Duncan asked
“I’ve come to rescue you,” Jacques explained.
“You mean…” Isadora began.
Jacques nodded as he shifted Sunny in his arms to help the Quagmires down from the fountain. “ Yes, you’re safe now, ” he said.
#misery loves company#violet snicket#violet snicket au#violet baudelaire#klaus baudelaire#sunny baudelaire#isadora quagmire#duncan quagmire#count olaf#detective dupin#esme squalor#officer luciana#jacques snicket#olivia caliban#lemony snicket#beatrice baudelaire#beatrice baudelaire ii#bertrand baudelaire#daniel handler#asoue#asoue au#asoue fanfic#asoue fic#asoue fandom#asoue fanbase#asoue books#asoue movie#asoue netflix#vile village
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Chapter 9: Something’s Wrong With Sam
Disclaimers: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters, I also do not own Jenny
Time frame: Mid S6 (SPOILERS FOR S6 AND ANYTHING BEFORE), after “Live Free or Twi Hard”
SLIGHT TRIGGER WARNING: short implication of past sexual assault
Notes: If you read, please give a comment and let me know what you think! I really love writing this!
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 5.5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Elliana’s Journal, Chapter 8
A/N: So i’ve had these next couple chapters written for awhile but were put on pause while collabing with @sarimaposthumous and then i kind of dropped writing for awhile. So i’m gonna hopefully put up a chapter a day for the next couple days. Please give me feedback if you read! Much love xx
THE ROAD SO FAR… (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2X_2IdybTV0 listen while reading)
“Who are you? Are you an angel?”
“I’m more of a…guardian if you will.”
Gabriel handed Elliana a small necklace. She took it and laid it over one of her hands and examined it. It had a silver chain with a silver crescent moon, a circular pendent with a white wolf hanging in its center.
“Wolves are strong and tough and smart. Just like you. I believe in you, little wolf.”
“I know you won’t quit hunting, and that you’ve been doing it for awhile now, and you’re fully capable of taking care of yourself – but why don’t you come with us for just a few hunts? Give you the chance to get to know us and maybe come with us from now on,” Sam said hopefully.
“All right. I’ll come with you. But,” she said, catching the victorious smile on Sam’s face. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Look, kid – whatever else happened to you, you’re safe. And I know you’ve only known us a couple weeks but you’ve grown on us, squirt,” Dean continued, earning a quiet chuckle from Ellie. “If you decide to stay with us, we’ll always protect you.”
“We promise,” Sam came in, confirming Dean’s words.
“Nooo! Gabriel!!” Ellie shouted, jumping up from her chair, only to be pulled back by Sam. “No!” she cried, fighting against the younger Winchester, who only held her tighter. She eventually stopped fighting but stared at Gabriel’s body as tears streamed down her face.
“Sam, Dean. Good to see you again. And who’s this with you?” Lucifer asked, tilting his head in curiosity as he looked at Elliana. “New travel buddy? I’m Lucifer - though I’m assuming you already knew that.”
“After all this time, you weren’t even hard to catch. It’s a bit disappointing, really,” a voice said from beside Elliana, in an almost bored tone.
“Damon,” she said, trying her hardest to keep her voice from shaking. The demon she had been running from for a year. The demon that possessed her brother. The demon that came back years later to possess her father and kill both her parents.
“Lucifer,” Ellie said a bit distastefully. “What do you want?” she snapped.
“Now now,” Lucifer tisked. He leaned down again to grab a handful of Elliana’s hair to pick her up by. “Damon, here, wanted to just kill you. But I had him bring you here instead. So you should really be thanking me,” Lucifer said, nodding.
“You said Ohio was your ‘adoptive’ home,” he mused. “Let’s see what happened at your real home.”
Ooooh, what’s this? Lucifer’s voice practically purred in her mind - and Ellie could hear the smirk in it. Let’s play with this a little.
“You’re too weak. You’re powerless. There’s nothing you can do to stop me,” the vamp had smirked. He fed off her until she passed out. The rest of that day was filled with feelings of fear, powerlessness, and struggling. Her body being overtaken by his. Whatever innocence she had left from Ellie’s last run in with him being stolen from her.
“Ellie, what happened? Are you ok? What did he do to you?” Ellie collapsed into Jenny and squeezed her eyes shut, not even bothering to try and stay strong. Sobs shook her whole body as Jenny held her.
“Thank you guys,” she said. “I know I’m gonna be going through hell with this stuff but…thank you for giving me today. I had a great time.”
“No problem, kiddo,” Dean smiled.
“You’re family, Ellie. And we’ll be with you through this thing; every step of the way,” Sam said, placing a kiss on her temple. She smiled.
“You guys promise?”
“Hunter’s promise,” Dean said.
Chapter 9: Something’s Wrong With Sam
Elliana remembered Sam telling Bobby he came across his deceased grandfather and was going to start hunting with him; and she remembers feeling hurt he didn’t ask her to go too. Though she didn’t think she would even say yes if he had offered. She felt something was off with Sam. And she didn’t trust Samuel or the others.
Elliana remembered the long months of finding herself again; going on hunts with Bobby, visiting Jenny from time to time, Jody helping her with her panic attacks and flashbacks, and having to hide Sam’s resurrection from Dean.
Elliana remembered when Dean arrived with Sam when he came to drop Lisa and Ben off for protection. And how angry he was that they didn’t tell him Sam was alive. How she tearfully explained to Dean she had wanted so badly to tell him but Sam and Bobby made her promise not to.
Elliana remembered turning down the offer to hunt with the boys again. She didn’t tell them the main reason – that she didn’t want to be around the new Sam. Part of the reason she did tell them was because she wanted to stay away from the Campbells. She was relieved that Dean shared her suspicions.
Thinking back on all these things, Ellie missed how things were before Sam was in the cage. When they just hunted.
When they were together.
Now it was mid-October; a little over a year since “Sam” had been back. Elliana was hunting more regularly again but still wouldn’t go on her own. She either went with Bobby, occasionally Jenny or Jody, or with Garth.
Right now, Elliana was walking into Bobby’s place after taking Anaya for a walk with Jody. She heard Bobby on the phone in the kitchen and quietly crept to the doorway, staying out of sight for the moment.
“We tested him. Salt, silver – everything…Well, then he’s something we ain’t ever seen before…Did you call Cas?...Look, I get it. You’re rattled. But let’s be professional-…What you saw..are you sure that’s what you saw?...Well, “you know” ain’t the same as proof. ‘Cause we’re talking about-… …Alright. I’m with you…Yeah. I’ll hit the books. Hard. Just don’t shoot him yet, all right? Watch him. We need facts. ‘Cause if it ain’t Sam…we don’t know what it is. And if we’re gonna put him down, we need to know how… Get in the car. He’s your case.”
Bobby sighed as he put his phone down. He wiped a hand down his face and looked over to see Ellie standing in the doorway, holding her crossed arms.
“That Dean?” she asked absently before Bobby could get a word in.
“Yeah. We were-“
“Talking about Sam?” she interrupted. Bobby nodded. “I told you something was wrong, Bobby. I could tell practically the second he got here. So could Anaya. I tried telling you, Bobby! But none of you believed me! And then it goes and puts Dean in danger and lets him get turned into a freaking vampire!”
“Alright, alright, calm down, girl,” Bobby said. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, only for her to shrug them away.
“This is getting so messed up,” Ellie said, voice cracking. “Jenny, Garth, and I went through so much to get Sam back and it’s not even him…I just want my brothers back.”
With this, Elliana turned and ran up the stairs to her room, shutting the door and plopping on the bed with Anaya and letting tears slowly spill from her eyes.
A couple hours later, Bobby lightly knocked on Ellie’s door. “Ellie, I know you’re upset, alright?” No answer. Bobby sighed. “Garth is comin’ around soon. Said he wanted to see you.”
Ellie couldn’t stop the smile that crossed her face. Her heart felt a little lighter as she thought back to first meeting Garth and how she quickly became close with him.
“Elliana, this is Garth. It’s ok, you can trust him. Wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Bobby said soothingly as Ellie somewhat hid around the corner of the wall.
“Well, not unless it has fangs,” the younger man joked with a wide smile on his face.
Ellie let out an airy laugh and a small smile crept onto her face; she moved into the living room, feeling comfortable enough to leave the wall.
“Wow – you already got a smile,” Bobby said, impressed. “Takes a lot to get one from her these days.” Elliana threw Bobby a Winchester bitch face. He knew the reason she didn’t. But Ellie knew he was only teasing her.
Garth simply shrugged, smile never leaving his face. He then turned to Ellie. “Elliana is a beautiful name,” he said kindly.
“Thanks,” the girl said, blushing a bit. Elliana quickly grew comfortable around Garth, his demeanor friendly and lighthearted. How was this guy a hunter? she thought.
“Noooo!” Elliana’s scream pierced the night air, echoing through the trees. Garth turned from the vampire he just beheaded and ran in the girl’s direction.
This wasn’t supposed to be a vamp case; so when the two arrived, nothing went as planned.
Garth finally got to Ellie to see her pinned to a tree by the vamp nest’s leader. He quickly ran over and swung his machete. The vamp’s head rolled off and Ellie fell to the ground, hyperventilating. Garth’s eyes widened a bit when he remembered Bobby mentioning she had past trauma with vamps (though he left out any other details).
Garth wasted no time in crouching down and helping Elliana through her panic attack. After she had calmed down enough, she lightly pulled away from the older hunter.
“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I must look so weak.”
“You don’t look weak,” Garth replied, confusion written on his face as he didn’t know how Ellie could think that. “You look like a girl who’s been through more than anyone should have. And who needs love and compassion. For people to be there for her and remind her how strong she really is.”
Elliana’s tears ran again as she collapsed back into Garth, hugging him tight. She had only known him for a few weeks now and he was so caring with her.
Garth rested his chin on top of her head and wrapped his arms around her protectively. Ellie had grown on him quickly as well.
Ellie and Garth just finished a hunt in South Dakota and Garth pulled his car over to a grass field so they could eat before going back to Bobby’s.
Ellie sat on the hood with him, just staring at her plate, pushing the food around absently. Garth noticed and gently nudged her with his elbow.
“What’s up?” he asked caringly. When she didn’t say anything, he spoke again. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But it’ll feel better if you let it out.”
The girl sighed and looked out at the long grass, which swayed lightly in the wind. “Sam and Dean took me here once,” she said quietly. “This exact field.” Ellie looked back down at her plate, though not at all interested in her food. “They took me out for a fun day since I was still really off after…Lucifer got me…”
Elliana looked up to meet Garth’s eyes now. He stared intently at her, taking in every word. “They promised me they’d be with me through everything. That they’d help me every step of the way.” Ellie’s voice started quivering now. “They promised me,” her voice cracked. Tears quickly filled her eyes and she couldn’t stop them from spilling over. “Why did they have to leave, Garth? They promised me. They promised.”
Garth placed a caring hand on Ellie’s arm and pursed his lips. “Ells, I know it sucks not having them here. But they didn’t leave things like this on purpose. Did Sam go to the cage to hurt you?”
Ellie’s brow furrowed in confusion. “No,” she said. She knew he wouldn’t.
“He did it to defeat Lucifer, right?”
Ellie nodded.
“Did Dean leave to hurt you?”
Ellie shook her head, starting to see where Garth was headed. “He went to keep his promise to Sam. He offered for me to come but I said no.”
“See? They’re not trying to make things bad. But sometimes, the ones we love and who love us the most, can hurt us the most. Even if they don’t mean to. But you have others around who care about you, too. Including me.” Garth finished with a kind smile that Ellie returned to the best of her ability. They had known each other for a couple months now and to Garth, she was already starting to feel like his little sister. And Ellie was beginning to see him as a brother, too.
Another soft knock brought Elliana out of her thoughts. She wiped her tears away and sat up. “Yeah?”
“You don’t sound too happy to see me,” Garth said jokingly as he opened the door, letting a goofy grin spread on his lips.
“Garth!” Ellie exclaimed, jumping off her bed to run into the hunter’s open arms. Garth’s goofy smile turned into a warm, happy one as he hugged her back. As soon as Bobby told him Ellie was feeling down again, he hurried over to try and help her in any way he could.
“So what’s on your mind?”
“I mean, Jenny and you and I almost died to get Sam back, ya know? We spent so much time, did so much research.”
Garth, as always, kept his eyes on Elliana while she vented to him. He wanted her to feel and know that he was listening. That he truly cared about her and what was troubling her.
“And I was still afraid of going out with everything that happened only a month before…but when we finished the job, I was so excited to see Sam again…and when I did…it wasn’t him. Not really. He didn’t smile. Didn’t really hug me back. Nothing…
“And I tried to tell Bobby. Then Dean when he found out Sam was alive. But they brushed me off. Said ‘he’s just in shock’. They let it go and Sam let. Dean. Turn into a vampire! Only now do they realize there’s something wrong with him!” Ellie let out a big sigh, her feelings exiting with it. “I just don’t know what to do now,” she said, meeting Garth’s eyes in a softer way.
“Well, what do you want? If you don’t know what to do, start by figuring out what you want,” he said simply, giving a small shrug.
Elliana looked at the ground, thinking for a moment.
“I want Sam back,” she whispered. “I want my brothers.”
“Ok. So what has to be done to get him back?”
Ellie sighed. “Research. Lore. Try to figure out what might be wrong.”
“Well, there you go,” Garth said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Another sigh.
“But what if…what if it doesn’t work?” the girl asked meekly, looking back up at Garth.
“What if it does?”
Silence.
“Ells,” Garth placed a brotherly hand on hers. “It’s one thing to look back and say ‘I wish I could’ve found a solution.’ But you don’t want to look back and say ‘I wish I would’ve tried.’* Look, I know you love those guys. I know you love Sam. I also know you’re really hard headed.” Garth smiled when he earned a small chuckle from Ellie. “And you won’t let yourself off easy if you don’t try to get Sam back.
“Either way, you know I’m with you,” Garth finished with a reassuring squeeze of her hand.
A few days later, Ellie was in the library with Bobby and Garth, reading through lore to see if they could find out what was wrong with Sam – if it was Sam. Ellie just picked up a new book when the sound of fluttering wings came behind her. She turned around to come face to face with Castiel.
“Elliana, come with me,” he said, reaching a hand out, which she promptly shoved away.
“What the hell, Cas?! I’ve been praying to you for a year, trying to get you here, and after all the dead silence, you just appear out of nowhere and expect me to go with you when you don’t even greet me or give an explanation or an apology for ignoring me during the worst year of my life?!” Ellie shouted angrily at the angel.
Cas looked to Bobby and Garth, who held their hands up, not wanting to join the argument. Though they were siding with Elliana anyway.
Cas let out a partially impatient sigh as he looked towards the windows then back at Ellie. “I am sorry for not responding to you. I can explain later but time is of the essence,” he said, holding out his hand again. When Ellie still made no move towards him he spoke again. “We’re going to find out what’s wrong with Sam.”
Ellie’s eyes finally shot up to meet Cas’. She looked over to Bobby, who looked equally as shocked, then to Garth. She wanted to find an answer, but Garth had come all the way to be with her and help her with this.
As if reading her thoughts, Garth smiled reassuringly. “You need to be with him,” he said. He didn’t mind if Ellie left; he just wanted whatever would help her. He was glad Cas came, though he had no idea who he was. Elliana needed to be there when they found out what was wrong so she could get her brother back.
Elliana ran to grab her bag and whistled twice to signal for Anaya to follow her. She gave Bobby a hug, then Garth, whispering a ‘thank you’ to him as she squeezed him a little tighter.
Then Cas transported himself, Elliana, and Anaya from Bobby’s house.
“Hey, kid,” Dean’s voice said. Ellie quickly turned around to see Dean and ran into his arms, hugging him tightly.
“I’m sorry about Lisa,” she whispered, truly feeling bad that Dean had lost her and Ben (metaphorically). “I’m so sorry.”
When Dean stiffened a bit, she hugged him tighter before leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek. Anaya came over and pressed herself against Dean, wagging her tail happily, making the older Winchester smile.
“You’re right, he looks terrible,” Cas said. Ellie and Dean turned to him and Ellie’s face dropped. “You did this?” Cas asked.
“Jeez, Dean, what’d you do to him?” Ellie said, looking at a very beaten and bloody Sam.
He began to grunt and move his head, regaining consciousness. “Cas?” he said, confusion written on his face; even more so when he realized he was tied up. Cas began inspecting him, asking questions about how he’s been feeling to try and determine what was different. Anaya stood stiffly by Ellie since Sam came to, not taking her eyes off him. And Ellie couldn’t help but jump a little when Dean snapped at his brother, sick of him beating around the bush.
“How much do you sleep?” Cas asked Sam.
There was a pause before he answered. “I don’t.”
“At all?” Dean asked, eyebrows raised.
“Not since I got back.”
Now it was Ellie’s turn to jump in. “And you didn’t think there was anything off about that? You just keep going like everything is normal?!”
“Of course I did, Elliana. I-I just never told you guys.”
“Sam… What are you feeling now?” Cas came in again, narrowing his eyes a bit at him.
Sam huffed a bit. “I feel like my nose is broken.”
“No, that’s a physical sensation. How do you feel?”
“I think-“
“Feel.”
“I don’t…I don’t know.”
The other three in the room looked at each other. Cas removed his belt, confusing everyone at first.
“This will be unpleasant,” he said, then placed the belt in Sam’s mouth. “Bite down on this. If there’s someplace you find soothing, you should go there…in your mind.”
Sam looked at Dean for help, but Dean stared straight at him (though Cas’ actions confused him as well).
Cas reached down and put his hand inside Sam, making him shout in pain. Ellie looked away and Dean pulled her into his side, running a comforting hand down her arm. After a few moments, Cas pulled away and looked around a bit contemplatively, putting his belt back on.
“Did you find anything?” Dean asked. His brother’s pained gasps not going unnoticed.
“No,” the angel replied, eyes downcast as he rolled his sleeves back down.
Dean raised his brow, turning his head to look at Cas. “So that’s good news?”
“I’m afraid not.”
He paused again.
“Cas, please,” Elliana said exasperatedly. She was sick of everyone avoiding giving answers today.
“Physically, he’s perfectly healthy.”
“Then what?” Dean asked.
“It’s his soul,” Cas finally met his gaze. “It’s gone.”
“What?!” Ellie snapped her eyes to him.
Dean cleared his throat, taking a few steps away. “I’m sorry. One more time – like I’m 5. What do you mean he’s got no-“
“When Sam was resurrected, it was without his soul.”
Everyone looked at said man, and Sam looked almost lost.
“So where is it?”
“My guess is it’s…still in the cage with Michael…and Lucifer.”
The mention of Lucifer sent an involuntary shiver down Elliana’s spine. And this whole thing was already making her very on edge. How could Sam be taken back, but his soul wasn’t?
“So, is he even still Sam?”
Cas looks over his shoulder to Sam, still addressing Dean. “Well, you pose an interesting philosophical question.”
As he, Sam, and Dean get into a conversation about getting his soul back, keeping him tied up, and Elliana didn’t even pay attention to the rest; she just began pacing the room as she ran her hands through her hair. Things just seemed to be getting more and more complicated.
“Samuel.”
Ellie’s interest was torn back to the boys’ conversation.
“Alright, let’s go then,” Dean said, grabbing his things together.
“Wait, what?” Ellie said, crossing her arms as she went to stand in front of him.
“If Samuel was brought back too, then he might know what’s going on. It’s the only lead we have right now.” Dean paused from his bag and looked at Ellie. “I know you don’t trust him, kid. But I know you want Sam back as much as I do,” he continued in a hushed tone. “Now, you don’t have to come with us if you don’t want, but something tells me you do.”
His eyes searched hers and she sighed reluctantly, looking down at the ground. Dean patted her arm and gave her a quick kiss to her head.
“It’ll be alright. We’re gonna go in, get what we need to know, then we’ll be gone. Ok?”
Ellie looked to Dean’s eyes again and, seeing his reassuring smile, nodded and grabbed her things as well. She still didn’t like it. But after all that’s been done to get Sam back, and being this close, she guessed now wouldn’t be the time to throw in the towel.
Chapter 10 ->
Forever tags: @bellero
A/N: *This is a quote I used and modified a bit from Fuller House (spoken by Aunt Becky). Credit goes to the Fuller House people.
#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#Supernatural fanfic#Sam Winchester#sam and dean#Sam and Dean Winchester#dean winchester#oc#original character#castiel#cas#bobby singer#Garth Fitzgerald IV
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Last Request (PT3)
Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction
"You've held your head up
You've fought the fight.
You bear the scars, You've
done your time. Listen to me
You've been lonely, too long."
-T.C.W
I once read a book about the meaning of forever. I can vividly remember why I was so compelled of wanting to read it in the first place. In the beginning it was a curiosity I had originally possessed I suppose, but growing up I had always seen my mother carry it with her just about every where she went. She would barely put it down, especially after my father's passing. I would watch as she studied the words and I wondered for many years what it was even about or what made her like it so much. One evening after dinner the curiosity that built up inside of me eventually consumed me. After we had cleaned the kitchen I finally blurted out the question. My mother turned around as she wiped her hands meticulously on a dish cloth, her gaze on the floor and her mind somewhere else.
"Mom?" I asked.
She snapped out of it and turned to face me and swept the back of her hand across my cheek. She faintly smiled at me as her golden brown eyes clouded with tears.
"Hopelessness." She said in a faint whisper.
The following week after her funeral I went to our old home to clean the house one last time. I found the book tucked between other hardbound novels on her small bookshelf. I pulled the book out and spent all afternoon sitting in one spot reading it just like she would have. To my dismay it didn't speak of forever being a resolute that we can hold onto. It did just the opposite. As I reached the last page the final line read that forever is a promise that the universe can not guarantee or keep. Perhaps I had loved Sebastian in another lifetime, because our forever was slowly disappearing before my eyes. I am reminded of what Fay Weldon once wrote "This is going to be a sad story. It has to be."
Sebastian didn't wake up yet. The events leading up before the paramedics arrived the moments in between came back to me in sped up fragments. Voices of concern pierced through my ears like white noise. I couldn't take my eyes off of him as he laid there on the museum floor. Earlier I knew he had looked unwell, but I wasn't aware of the extent to his condition. I thought it was just a cold coming on , never in my wildest imagination Sebastian would collapse right behind me. I wished I had never pushed him to come here with me. I wished I had never even got up from his bed and just stayed there with him even for just a few more seconds. I could have spent all day wishing for things I knew I couldn't change.
I watched as they lifted him unto a gurney. I choked back tears as I pleaded with them to tell me if he was alright. The paramedics communicated back and forth between each other as a they swiftly applied an oxygen mask to him. They barely looked into my direction. The only bit of useful information I got was the name of the hospital they were taking Sebastian to. I jogged to the car realizing that as soon as I reached for the door handle that Sebastian had drove his car to the museum and that his car keys were with him.
I loudly cursed under my breath causing people to stare at me. In that moment I felt defeated as I pressed my hands against the glass window on the side of his car. I took a few seconds to collect myself. Then I began to rummage through my purse for my phone to call for a taxi. My hands quivered as I dialed the number. I needed to remain calm for Sebastian and most of all I needed to remain calm for myself. The unsettling fear still loomed in the back of my mind. When I had finally arrived to the hospital I felt emotionally drained. I asked myself on the cab ride over how many times must I walk through these doors with a racing heartbeat?
In the emergency room I spoke to a woman from triage to try and locate Sebastian. She very was hesitant about giving his information to me. I had to provide what felt like an endless list of proof for verification.
"Miss I have to follow a strict policy and I can not hand out a patient's information to just anyone." Her silky black hair with strands of silver and gray was swept into a perfect bun behind her head. I didn't want to push her patience with me, but I was desperate to know where he was.
"I'm his girlfriend." I said short of breath. "I wouldn't even know who to call for him. So if you could please just tell me where did they take him?" I was slowly becoming embarrassed by listening to the desperation rise in my voice.
She looked back down eyeing her tablet. "But you're not listed as his emergency contact?" With a raised brow she looked up at me. The lines around her eyes pinched together as she narrowed her eyes at me with suspicion.
"How is that possible when he was just omitted today?" My voice came out shrill.
I can tell by her facial expressions that she was growing tired and frustrated with me. Though I was equally losing my patience as well. I needed to be with Sebastian. I had to see that he was okay, but the closer I got the harder it became to get to him. "From what it says here he has been a patient of Dr. Austen Pierce for more than a year." Taken by surprise I interrupted her.
"What?" I shrieked. I could feel a tsunami of bad feelings swallow me whole. "No you must have the wrong person." I laughed a humorless laugh. I felt a lump rising in my throat causing it to go completely dry. In the back of my mind I knew that there was something bothering Sebastian, that he had been carrying on like he was going through his own agonizing hell. The more I asked him about it the more he urged me to let it go and convinced me time after time that he was perfectly fine. But, I knew deep down he wasn't.
"Can you tell me what room he is in?" I managed to muster up and ask.
The nurse resumed her apathetic posture as her eyes glazed over me. "He just moved to room 303 east in the Respiratory Unit." She confessed. I realized that she had began to view me as a complete waste of her time.
Relief suddenly washed over me, because I was finally able to go see him. I would've ran to him if I could have. Stepping off of the elevator I felt my heart beating in my throat, I was suddenly petrified as I walked down the white halls of the hospital. Machines beeped all around me, people in different colored scrubs migrated through different areas as they busied themselves. The smell of disinfectant clogged my nose.I was coming up to Sebastian's room when I heard the voice of a woman inside.
I slowly stepped around the corner, because her voice was so familiar to me. I took a glance inside and I saw Sebastian sitting up on a hospital bed with Winnie by his side. I hadn't seen her in ages and come to think of it I hadn't been by her diner since the day the rain had washed me. "Ingrid!" Her voiced pitched as she noticed me hiding around the corner.
I waved in her direction though I couldn't take my eyes off of Sebastian. He looked the same, yet he also looked different. There was a nasal cannula placed underneath his nose and his coffee colored hair was in a tousled mess. If he wasn't in the state he was in any minute now I would've ran my fingers though his unruly hair and urged him to get a haircut. Knowing Sebastian he would have pulled me in an embrace and distracted me with a kiss. His eyes that usually gleam with a beautiful shade of blue, were darker and he wore his feeling of exhaustion on his face. I could feel the tears begin to well up in my eyes blurring my vision, because despite how he might have looked and felt Sebastian still smiled at me like everything was going to be okay. "Hello beautiful." He said to me.
I begged myself not to cry despite the feeling of sadness and relief intensifying. I didn't want him seeing me turn into a complete mess. Besides, the scrunched up Kleenex surrounding Winnie Sebastian already seen enough waterworks. "How are you?" My voice cracked and I was surprised the words even coherently escaped my lips. I dropped my bag to the floor and walked over to Sebastian.
He scooted over in the bed to make room for me to sit down beside him. He outstretched his arm to prop behind me. My eyes couldn't help but drift to the IV attached to his arm. I eased myself onto the bed remembering to move with caution. "You smell nice." He said loud enough where only I could hear before he kissed my shoulder gently.
"I'm going to go grab something to drink. Ingrid dear can I get you anything?" Winnie politely asked, probably thinking of a clever escape route so that she could leave the two of us alone. "I'm good thank you." I said to Winnie, faintly smiling over in her direction. She looked as worrisome as I felt. Sebastian and I both watched her until she left out of the room and was out of listening range. Though he remained silent next to me even after she left.
"You still haven't answered my question." I turned and faced him.
"What was it again my brain is a little foggy?" He winked.
"Not funny Sebastian."
A million questions swirled in my head as my gazed panned around Sebastian's hospital room. Names and dates were scribbled on a dry erase board, penmanship I couldn't make out. I noticed Winnie's purse was sitting on the wooden counter under the board. How did she even know Sebastian was in the hospital? Then after just a few short moments I realized that she was probably the one listed as Sebastian's emergency contact. My heart sank a little, because I was a disappointed that he hadn't chosen me.
"What's happening Sebastian?" My words hung in the air like a humid room searching for a breeze.Sebastian's stare was heavy and he looked at me as though he was begging me to read his mind to spare him from admitting the ugly truth.
I inched away from him to face him, but he grabbed ahold of the fabric of my shirt to pull me back close."There was never an easy way to tell you Ingrid." Sebastian swallowed.
"Tell me what?" I asked. I felt like I was sitting on the edge of my seat waiting to be pushed off from what he was about to tell me.
The monitor beside him beeped before he spoke. "Long before I knew you I had been going through some stuff. When you walked into the diner that night I had just received some news that I wasn't too excited about to say the least." Sebastian inhaled and held onto it before letting it go. His eyes searched mine and I could tell he was searching for the right words to say and I couldn't help but get sucked back into them. "I never picked up a cigarette, I always maintained a healthy diet and exercise, I always did the right thing." His words came out harsh and his tone hardened. Sebastian's gaze grew distant like he was hurt and still stuck in utter disbelief.
I couldn't begin to prepare myself for what he was about to tell me next. He paced himself like wish he didn't even have to tell me himself. A part of me expected what he was going to say, and the other part wish he didn't have to say anything at all. I didn't like where this was going and despite how I felt I listened to him anyway as he continued on.
"For a while I believed this was something that I could beat. After I got my diagnosis I made sure I got the treatment that I needed. Eventually all the drugs, immunotherapy radiation treatment , cardiopulmonary test, I could list all the ways my screen test for my lungs showed no improvement whatsoever. If anything they looked like they where getting worse."
I opened my mouth to speak, but my words got stuck. My tongue went completely dry, and my chest started to ache. I felt a sensation in the pit of my stomach like a thousand knots getting tied. My breathing was hitched and it felt like I was going to be sick. Now felt like the perfect time to unleash my raging tears, but none would dare to fall. I heard Sebastian call out my name though I couldn't speak. Chills ran through my body, because the air around me suddenly felt damp and cold. A lot like how I felt the day of my mother's funeral when the rain soaked my body leaving no area dry. The silence between us was so loud I wanted to scream.
"You're sick and I am just now finding out?" My voice quivered as I licked away the salty tear that had fallen on my lip. I waited for him to answer but he was despondent. "Why would you keep something like this from me Sebastian?" I asked.
"I didn't want your finding out, because you had recently already lost enough Ingrid." Sebastian's brows knitted together and the muscle in his jaw noticeably tensed.
I frowned. "Was I suppose to see you one day then just wonder what happened to you the next? You decided that for yourself not for me!" I tell him. A second passed then another. I asked myself how any of this could be real? I would be lying to us both if I didn't admit that I was hurt by him.
"I was trying to protect you." He said with his eyes closed.
"Bullshit!" I blurted out.
Sebastian replied then exhaled slowly. "I didn't want you to feel obligated or to pity me. I wanted you to love the version of me that can exist outside of these hospital walls."
I tensed as emotions clogged the back of my throat. It felt like I was having a nightmare with my eyes wide open. I wanted to run into my mother's arms one last time with my dad's soothing voice next to me telling me that everything was going to be okay. The bittersweetness of it all soured in stomach, because I knew in this lifetime that would never happen again. Essentially Sebastian had already cut me out. He felt like he was protecting me from the inevitable and I felt betrayed. Sebastian had kept a part of himself a secret from me and I considered that an unforgivable lie that he told effortlessly over and over.
"I would have loved both versions with more love than thought possible." I said, voice trembling. I stood from where I was sitting and I walked over to where my purse was sitting on the floor.
"Please don't go Ingrid." His voiced rasped, and was deeper than usual. Hearing the despair in his voice almost made it impossible for me to move. Leaving him was a colossal of bad decisions. I couldn't even turn around to look at him. The anger that I felt at first masked my true pain. I was guilty of walking away for my own selfish reasons. I wanted to say goodbye before I would be forced to and that is one of the hardest task to do.
On my way out of the door I nearly bumped into Winnie. When I looked up at her I could barely see her face clearly. My eyes were flooded with tears and Winnie outstretched her arms for me to collide in. I didn't know her very well and it seemed liked our encounters would always happen on terrible days.
"I know this is hard." She said as she squeezed me in an embrace. "I've known Sebastian for quite sometime and he puts on a brave front for you. My instincts were telling me that night I saw you two talking that you didn't meet just by chance though."
I began to pull away and I rubbed my face harder than I should have. I had just left him sitting alone and I felt horrible, yet somehow I couldn't convince myself to stay. "I should get going." I sniffed.
The confused look on her face said it all."You're leaving?" She asked.
"I can't stay." I murmured. "It's all just happening so fast."
"I understand more than you know." Her mouth curled into a faint sympathetic smile. I was so sure she would have had more to say to me than that. That I was heartless and cruel or didn’t deserve Sebastian. Instead she walked with onto the elevator and waited outside with me till a cab arrived. I was thankful for her company despite neither one of us not knowing the right words to say. She sat next to me while I tried to make myself stop crying only to keep crying. When it was time for me to leave she asked if she could give me a hug goodbye and I obliged.
"Go home an get some rest." She said as the cab pulled up. I pulled the handle on the door and I stopped myself before I fully got inside.
"Tell Sebastian." I paused hesitantly unsure of what I wanted my message to be. I chose the only words that I truly felt . "Tell him that I am sorry." I climbed inside and quickly closed the door behind me. I knew I was making a terrible mistake but for some reason I couldn't make myself stop.
I noticed for a while I had kept count of the days since I had last seen Sebastian. The image of his face bore a painful memory in my mind. After awhile the days felt like they flew by and I had started to lose count. I hadn't heard from Sebastian since that day and I was crazy think that he would even call. I didn't even know where my head was at. I busied myself with work and still that didn't distract me from my terrible mistake I had made. The one person I wanted to talk to was the one person I was running from.
I decided I couldn't take being alone with my thoughts anymore and so I told my boss Torrence that I wasn't feeling well. I knew he would immediately want me to isolate myself from everyone in the gallery, because he was afraid he would catch what I was getting. I knew for a fact what I was feeling wasn't contagious at all. I just needed to get to the remedy so that I could numb the pain. I got in my jeep and for the first half of my drive I didn't even know where I was headed. I drove on the expressway until I took an exit that lead me me the direction of the storage facility where I kept all of my parents artwork.
I took nearly all of them back home with me and I found myself sitting amongst them. The faces of the old paintings stared back at me with wonder. Wondering where I had been for so long. Looking back at them I wondered the same. It was comforting having a piece of my parents surrounding me. You could really see their shared love for art and one another in every color and every stroke. When I was younger I always admired their passion.
I have always looked up to them. At times it felt like it was the three of us against the world, and now I found myself facing it all alone. I went into my garage and scavenged through containers that I haven't been bothered to touch in months. I pulled out all of my paint brushes, my wooden easel, and my smock that was nearly tie dyed with paint splotches. I lastly went for my unopened paints and for the first time in a very long time I began to paint.My brush led the way guiding my hand all the while freeing myself from my own mind. I could almost hear Sebastian's voice behind me telling me that he knew I could do this all along.
It was almost like a metamorphosis happened. I began to do things that I once neglected. I began going out with friends from work. I took the big step and started visiting my parents at the cemetery. At last I thought I was done running away from things that scared me the most. It hadn't occurred to me that Sebastian was still one of those things.
I can't even begin to explain why but occasionally I found myself visiting Winnie's dinner. I went so often I started to have a regular. My intentions were to just go there and sketch secretly hoping that she would at least utter the sound of his name, she never did. Winnie treated me like an ordinary customer till one day she didn't. I decided if I was going to move on I had to let the diner go too. So I went in one last time hoping she would pass along something to Sebastian.
Hard as I tried I couldn't pretend he was only a figment of my imagination. I dialed his number every day so many times, but in the end I never called. He was all I could think about. I even began to see glimpses of him in everything I painted. I missed not having him apart of my day. I could have easily forgiven him for holding back the truth. Maybe he was right all along. I distanced myself from Sebastian because the truth is I can't handle how permanent a goodbye is. They don’t get easier as time goes on for me it feels like it worsens.
"Hi Winnie." I say nervously, as I sit down in the exact same spot that I did the night I met her.
"Hello dear will you be getting your usual?" She asked me as she wiped over plastic menus.
"No I won't be getting anything today." I paced myself. "I actually brought something that I had been working on for a while."
Her entire face lit up and she moved closer to stand in front of me. "How wonderful! This place could sure use a touch of your beauty." She exclaimed.
I cleared my throat. "Actually it's for Sebastian." Winnie's smile stayed the same, but her eyes were expressionless. "I know this must appear to be so random." I confessed feeling suddenly embarrassed. Winnie remained silent as she looked down at me in disbelief. Yet I couldn't stop myself from talking.
"I brought it here with me." I said lifting up my portfolio.
"When was the last time you spoke to Sebastian?" Her voice was solemn. I was too ashamed to answer. It had been many months since I last heard the sound of his voice. "He talked about you all the time. If you didn't know him you think he made you up. Sebastian spoke of you as if you were his favorite story. " Winnie said, interrupting the awkward silence.
"When was the last time you spoke to Sebastian?" Her voice was solemn. I was too ashamed to answer. It had been many months since I last heard the sound of his voice. "He talked about you all the time. If you didn't know him you think he made you up. Sebastian spoke of you as if you were his favorite story. " Winnie said, interrupting the awkward silence.
Suddenly she turned around an left the counter then disappeared into the back. I didn't understand what was happening. After several long minutes she finally reemerged carrying a thick folder in her arms. "You two are truly something else.” She huffed, she tossed the folder onto the countertop like she was holding a weight.
"What is that?" I asked out of curiosity.
"He asked me to keep an eye on you. When I told him you had been coming in here for days and would sit for hours to just draw it looked like stars lit up in his eyes. " Her words made my heart sink into my stomach.
"I don't know what to say." I swallowed.
"Sebastian busied himself with negotiations on a property that caught his eye. He asked for my assistance because I have been running my own business for over twenty years now. " Winnie slid over the mysterious black folder over to me.
"He asked me to hand this over to you when the time was right." She said. I just sat there and looked at the blank cover. "Open it!" She urged.
Startled, I did what she asked. There were so many legal term ones that I saw regularly used at the gallery I worked in. I read through page after page and I saw that it was deed to a building here in Seattle. My head shot up a little too quickly. I looked at her wide eyed and completely tongue tied. Clearly she was reading my mind. "Sebastian really wanted you to have this. "
"I have to go see him this is insane! I can't accept this, especially not like this." I said, suddenly feeling short of breath.
"Ingrid Dear."
"I have to go talk to him. I need to tell him how sorry I am. There's so much time that has been lost and so much I need to tell him."
"Ingrid!" She yelled. I stopped talking and I'm pretty sure others noticed. "Sebastian wanted to make sure that you would open your own art gallery just like your parents would've wanted, what he wanted. This was his last request dear.” I noticed that Winnie spoke about him in past tense. It took me a while to digest what she was trying to say until finally I just knew.
{Part 3 out of 3}🌻
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Wow I really thought that they were going to be a real thing after seeing those gifs. Is q/el officially done?
alright, I’m gonna use this ask as an excuse to talk about my thoughts post 4.12!
I’m honestly unsure, but it’d be a really bad move if they didn’t have a good outcome. it’d be exploitative, because they’ve leaned so heavily on it since season 3 from what I’ve seen in interviews and conversations, and for this show to ingratiate themselves into the conversation and actively support the relationship? they have to have known how this would come across. and this is why I’m still not believing that they are just going to drop it? to drop the storyline that boosted their views?
I’ve noticed (from watching official itunes season recaps, especially) they sometimes even use the ship to market themselves. which, if it doesn’t end up happening, is really really shit. since 3.05, the first time they were together in a romantic sense, they were immediately praised and tons of articles popped up acknowledging their incredible queer rep. cause, they were great and unconventional and like nothing I’ve personally seen in fantasy. but its safer to separate them than have them actually work things out, right. maybe the buildup was for nothing and they had their chance. but then, the events of 4.05 proves that wrong. I’m going to stay optimistic, but I really hope I’m wrong, the showrunners aren’t assholes, and maybe this isn’t their intention.
In the context of the show, and how I think its panning out: we need to remind ourselves Q has depression. he’s always seeking out ways to help, and to feel wanted, because of how disconnected he feels with himself and others. he’s talked about it on the show very often, and we already know that his coping mechanism is usually to seek out comfort from other people. the two people closest to him, julia and eliot, are not there to stabilize him during the stress and grief he’s enduring this season. without them, he’ll have to find someone else to confide in, which in this case is alice. alice is familiar, she’s comforting to him, they’ve been in a relationship in the past. I understand how much Q needs her right now - his mental state is very, very deteriorated and honestly I’m just waiting for him to have a breakdown. NOW. with eliot, we already know just how much he quietly loves Q, and how his greatest regret was not telling him, and for not accepting his proposal to try a relationship. eliot is a big, ole wimp. he knows that now, and we already saw that once he’s free, he’s determined to make it right with Q. however, its likely Q doesn’t know this and thinks eliot’s feelings are still the same. I think I’ve read in a post that Q and eliot’s last exchange before possession was eliot saying, altho half-jokingly, “go be life partners with someone else for a change”. then, in 4.05(?) he regains his body and takes that opportunity to talk to Q using their code “who else gets that kind of proof of concept”. its unclear whether Q takes that as a confession, but to the audience it feels like it. ROMAAAAANCE
so, in the end, I have suspicions of how it’ll pan out but we do need to remember those contextual things about Q’s coping, mental state, and current understanding of eliot’s feelings for him. alice is grounding him and probably the only thing preventing him from losing it, lbr. them entering a relationship is still reaaaaally fucking weird to me, because from what I can tell they haven’t really spoken about any kind of romance rekindling since season 2, so I don’t know if its a rebound in this case, or he’s just seeking comfort because he really, really needs it.
TO FINISH UP. I don’t want alice hurt if she is just a rebound, that’s an incredibly shit thing for the writers to do. Q is NOT the type to do that, especially since he’s always telling her she shouldn’t be hurt so many times. it’s just not what she deserves and she shouldn’t be reduced to that. they’ve had their time for their relationship, for their breakup, and for that chapter to close. they deserved that closure, and the show did it very well, so to have him get back together with her is just, ridiculous and infuriates me.
so, I guess we’ll see in 4.13, but I’m worried, because they have 1 episode to make shit right.
AN ADDITIONAL THING BEFORE I WRAP UP: penny’s actor arjun tweeted reassurance to some fans that were upset about the episode. I’m taking this as a good sign, because he’s too good for this world and for any of us, but he also said he doesn’t want to say much to set up disappointment. either way, @ writers, make this fucking right.
FINI. I’m going to go get myself a croissant and have a little cry in a park
#sorry if this doesn't make a lot of sense it's unedited#I just wanted some clarity for my thoughts#tbd probably#i'm still bothered by people saying Q is back in a 'het relationship' when he's literally bi. ya'll need.. to not do that
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I’m safe inside the light, so go on do your worst Part Two [A Stormlight Archive Fanfic]
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Elhokar was a failure at everything he’d ever done. He’d failed as a son, as a warrior and as a king. He saw no reason to fail as a Knight Radiant too. Or the one where Elhokar swears to the first Ideal at the end of WoK.
Warnings: Domestic Violence, Self-Esteem Issues
You know how I said this was going to be three parts? Yeah, I lied. At least this new four-part plan gives you more story to chew on while I inevitably get writer's block trying to deal with the failed get-Sadeas-to-duel-Adolin scheme which is my least favorite part of WoR for reasons that have nothing to do with Elhokar.
Also, I am planning to change the title of this work once I come up with something better, so the title might be different by the time I post part three.
Life went on, at least that was probably what happened to people who hadn’t been attacked by their uncles and bullied into handing over some more of their already shaky power. Elhokar, however, was having a hard time going on. At first he had nightmares that sometimes caused him to scream so loudly that his guards came running (of course they did that now when he wasn’t in any actual danger). After that had gone on for a while Elhokar became so terrified of reliving Dalinar’s attack in his dreams that he couldn’t sleep unless he downed a couple glasses of violet wine before lying down. When he was awake, he so panicky that he jumped at shadows and the smallest slights and threats were enough to send him into fits of hysterics.
And then there was the problem of the Stormlight. The spheres in his lamps and pockets were constantly going dun, some within hours of being recharged. Shadow had explained that was a byproduct of their bond and that Elhokar could learn to use the Light to do things if he practiced, but Elhokar didn’t even want to think about actually using the Light; he needed to figure out how to make it stop. He drew on a fair amount of Stormlight every time someone so much as mentioned Dalinar, eventually he was going to get caught and he didn’t want to explain what was happening.
“You look terrible. Have you slept?” Navani asked one morning when he was visiting her in her chambers.
“I’m fine,” Elhokar said. Shadow buzzed quietly, but Elhokar silently argued that it wasn’t really a lie. He was a lot more alert than he should have been given that he was running on about three hours of toss and turn sleep and a hangover. He suspected all the Stormlight had something to do with how surprisingly decent he was feeling, but he wasn’t about to tell Navani that.
“And you’ve been more anxious recently too,” Navani went on. “What’s been bothering you?”
“Oh, the usual,” Elhokar lied, making sure he kept his gaze focused on the view of the Plains out the window while he spoke. He was learning to be a better liar--something he couldn’t tell if Shadow liked or not--but he still couldn’t look someone in the eyes and lie convincingly, “Nothing particularly worth mentioning.”
Navani didn’t respond for a long time, and eventually Elhokar turned to look at her. Her lips were pressed together in thought, like she had sensed the lie and was trying to scope out the the truth. Navani and her two children had been cursed with the utter inability to truly understand each other. That said, Elhokar and Navani were much closer than Navani and Jasnah were because Navani found Elhokar at the very least less inscrutable than Jasnah. Navani might have been able to figure out at least part of what was bothering Elhokar if given enough time and he didn’t want to risk it.
“Mother,” he said as gently as possible. “Nothing out of the ordinary is wrong.”
“Dalinar said you’ve been calling him to investigate less supposed assassination attempts,” Navani said. “It’s good that your fear of assassination is fading, though I wish you would confide in me about what this new worry is. You’re starting to look like a walking corpse.”
Elhokar didn’t have the heart to tell her that his fear of assassination was just as strong as it had ever been, but that it had now been eclipsed by the fear of being assassinated by Dalinar.
The next time Dalinar held one of his “Oh look, my brilliant plan to use my ill-gotten power to force people to do what I want isn’t working” planning meetings, he brought along a contingency of darkeyed guards. Elhokar, like everyone else in the Warcamps, had heard about the bridgemen Dalinar had freed from Sadeas and turned into guards, but this was the first time he’d actually seen them. He was leery at first, as he always was of new people, but their leader--a serious man younger than Renarin with slave marks and a shash brand on his forehead--turned out to be very open to the idea that someone might be trying to hurt his charges which was refreshing. Still, Elhokar reminded himself that these bridgemen were even more firmly indebted to Dalinar than Elhokar’s lighteyed guards were; he could not trust them to actually save him if Dalinar told them not to.
Even though Elhokar was technically supposed to be in charge, Dalinar took over the planning, rambling around disarming the highprinces and treating them like new recruits and a million other things that were probably going to get not just him and Elhokar killed but everyone they cared about too. Elhokar tried to point that out, hoping that appealing to Dalinar’s hopefully more genuine feelings for Navani, Adolin and Renarin would actually convince the man to see sense.
“Yes, you are right,” Dalinar said, regretfully. “I hadn’t… but yes. That is how they think.” He sounded so sincere and gentle, like a kindly old grandfather. How did he manage that? Elhokar was torn between wanting to run the other way and wanting to get down on his knees and beg for the secret.
“And you’re still willing to go through with this plan?”
“I have no choice,” Dalinar said like that should be obvious.
Elhokar forced himself to go on, “Then at least tell me this: What is your endgame, Uncle? What is it you want out of all this? In a year, if we survive this fiasco, what do you want us to be?” That was boldest Elhokar had dared to be with Dalinar since the incident, and the sheer audacity of it made his stomach clench.
Dalinar was silent for a long time, simply staring out the window. “I’ll have us be what we were before, son. A kingdom that can stand through storms, a kingdom that is a light and not a darkness. I will have a truly unified Alethkar, with highprinces who are loyal and just. I’ll have more than that. I’m going to refound the Knights Radiant.”
Captain Kaladin jerked like he’d just been stung by something. Elhokar felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. He hadn’t really thought about what his strange connection to a creature claiming to be a spren meant, but Jasnah had used him as a sounding board on occasion--most likely because she’d assumed he wouldn’t understand what she was talking about--and some things had stuck in his head. Shadow began buzzing in a soft but discordant tone Elhokar had learned meant she was upset. That only confirmed his budding suspicions; whatever was happening to him had something to do with the Knights Radiant.
Great.
“Are you mad, Brightlord?” Brightness Teshav asked. “The Radiants? You’re going to try to rebuild a sect of traitors who gave us over to the Voidbringers?”
“The rest of this sounds good, Father,” Adolin said with a calm logic that most people probably wouldn’t have believed he possessed. “I know you think about the Radiants a lot, but you see them...differently than everyone else. It won’t go well if you announce that you want to emulate them.”
Elhokar felt like he was standing by watching everything even remotely sane about his life crumble to ash. Where they really seriously discussing refounding the Knights Radiant? The idea should have been dismissed as a joke the instant it was brought up, but Adolin and Brightness Teshav were trying to come up with logical reasons why refounding an organization of traitors that everyone hated was a bad idea. They were all so in Dalinar’s thrawl that they were actually considering it.
That wasn’t even the only problem. Shadow wouldn’t have gotten worked up if Dalinar was just spouting nonsense. Her reaction suggested that there was a real connection between her and the Knights Radiant, which meant that there was a real connection between Elhokar and the Knights Radiant.
Elhokar couldn’t help it, he covered his face and groaned.
“Am I a Knight Radiant?” Elhokar asked Shadow the instant they were alone.
She paused for a moment as if considering how she wanted to respond. “Not yet,” she said slowly.
“So I’m supposed to be a Knight Radiant,” Elhokar pushed on. “Dalinar is actually on the right track.”
“The way he plans to refound the Knights Radiant is not the way it is supposed to happen,” Shadow said. “The Knights Radiant must rise again, but it should be at the initiative of those who were chosen not at the behest of some over-zealous warlord with visions he thinks are from the Almighty.”
“People who are chosen,” Elhokar repeated. “People like me? Why would you choose me to be a Knight Radiant? Unless you want to make sure everyone hates them again. You can’t honestly expect me to believe that you thought I could actually manage to be a hero.”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe you capable of,” Shadow said. “It’s what you believe yourself capable of that matters.”
“Why do you always do that?” Elhokar burst out.
“Do what?” Shadow asked. She actually had the audacity to sound confused.
“Talk about me like I’m not a failure of a king and a pushover,” Elhokar said. “You’ve seen plenty of proof of both, why keep denying it?”
“One of us needs to have some self-esteem,” Shadow said curtly. “And since it’s obviously not going to be you…”
“What do you want me to do, Shadow?” Elhokar snapped marching across the room and flinging his hand out to his side. “Summon my Shardblade and waltz around the warcamps proclaiming the Knights Radiant reborn? If I was lucky people might actually kill me for being a legitimate threat and not just because Alethkar can’t have an insane ruler.”
“Elhokar,” Shadow said in a very peculiar tone. “You might not want to draw your-”
Elhokar’s Shardblade formed in his hand and the instant his fingers closed around it a dreadful screaming filled his head. It was as if something was crying out in pain, like something had been trapped unendingly in the moment of its murder.
Elhokar cried out and dropped the Shardblade. The instant he let go of the Blade the screaming stopped. Elhokar stumbled across the room and threw up in one decorative vases in the corner of the room. The screaming was one of the most horrid he’d ever experienced, up there with the battles which were little more than wholesale slaughters Gavilar and Dalinar had made him witness as a child to “give him a stomach for fighting.”
The guards burst in because they were evidently still under orders to pretend to care about his well being when it suited Dalinar. “I’m fine,” Elhokar growled, spitting bile into the vase. “Get out.”
“Your Majesty-” the guard began.
“Am I your king or not?” Elhokar snapped. “I ordered you out. Get out!”
The guards blinked looking like they were surprised to see their charge doing something other than whining about assassination attempts. “Yes, Your Majesty.” They said and slunk out of the room.
Elhokar leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor in a trembling heap. “You see?” He said to Shadow. “I can’t even use a Shardblade anymore.”
“I hate those things,” Shadow said coasting across the floor towards him. “They’re perversions.”
“I don’t care what you think of them,” Elhokar said. “No one will take an Alethi King who can’t use a Shardblade seriously.”
Shadow was silent for an almost outrageously long time. “What?” Elhokar asked when he couldn’t take it anymore.
“As time goes on I remember more and more,” Shadow said slowly. “I’m just not sure what I should tell you and what you should be allowed to figure out for yourself.”
“Oh,” Elhokar groaned. “So now you’re hiding things from me.”
“I-” Shadow seemed a little thrown. “I’m just not sure if telling you would be the best way to do it. I don’t want to hurt your development by telling you something you were supposed to figure it out on your own. Though I suppose if it bothers you so much I could just-”
She was cut off by a fist pounding heavily on the door. “Elhokar? Elhokar are you alright?” Dalinar. Elhokar felt his entire body go stiff. “Elhokar!”
Elhokar didn’t respond. His heart was beating wildly in his throat. Maybe if he said nothing Dalinar would just go away.
No such luck. “Elhokar, I’m coming in,” Dalinar said and forced his way into the room. Elhokar tried to stay as still and quiet as possible, but Dalinar saw him right away.
“Are you alright?” Dalinar crossed the floor in a couple steps to kneel before him. “The guards said you were sick.”
“I’m fine.” Elhokar said. If he was someone like Dalinar or even Adolin he might have managed to say that so it was believable or at least so no one would question him. However, Elhokar had a feeling that he just sounded like a child who was terrified his uncle was going to beat him up.
“Elhokar,” Dalinar said. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Elhokar lied. He couldn’t look Dalinar in the face so instead he stared at the man’s shoulder. “It must have just been something I ate. I’m feeling better now.”
“The guards said they heard you scream,” Dalinar said. “Did something else happen?”
“I’m fine!” Elhokar pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room, trying hide that he was still shaking.
Dalinar was silent and when Elhokar turned he was studying him with his lips pursed. “What?” he asked.
“You’re not panicking about being poisoned,” Dalinar said. He spoke in a tone of voice that suggested he didn’t realize he was being sort of insulting. “I’ve never known you to be this calm in the face of the unexpected.”
Calm? Elhokar’s stomach was still churning and he wasn’t completely convinced he wasn’t going to throw up again. He couldn’t get the memory of the screaming out of his head, and Dalinar’s presence was doing nothing for his nerves. He was anything but calm.
“There’s nothing wrong,” Elhokar said trying to look calmer than he actually was. “I told you; it was probably just something I ate. I feel better now.”
Dalinar studies him for a moment then stood up. “You might be right, but I still think it would be best if you let someone look at you. You’re not acting like yourself.”
Elhokar had to bite his tongue to hold back a snort of laughter. He spent half his life trying to convince Dalinar to take his fears seriously and the one time he tried to get him to ignore something the man latched onto it. It was almost unbelievable.
“Fine,” He eventually said. “If it makes you feel better. I’m not going anywhere.”
“It does,” Dalinar said with a nod. “I’ll be right back,” and he left.
Elhokar sighed and sunk down into the sofa and leaned his head against the armrest.
“His plan won’t work,” Shadow grumbled. It sounded a little like she was just beginning to vocalize the thoughts that had been running through her mind the entire time Dalinar had been there. “You can’t expect strong-arming people who don’t like you to work.”
“It works on me,” Elhokar whispered, his voice so quiet that it was barely more than air blowing over his lips. “And he knows it. He knows. He knows it all. He must.”
“What do you mean by ‘he knows it all?’” Shadow asked.
“Nothing,” Elhokar said perhaps a bit louder than he should have.
Shadow was silent for so long that Elhokar started to think the conversation was over, then she said, “The Words you swore after our run-in with Dalinar are the only official Oaths that you have to swear,” she spoke gently but very deliberately, like she knew she might upset him but felt that she needed to speak anyway. “However, the bond between us becomes stronger each time you reveal a deep truth about yourself. The less people who know the truth, the more powerful it is. If you’re hiding something it might be best to just confess it now and get it over with.”
Elhokar’s stomach clenched at the thought. While he didn’t tell a lot of outright lies he did have a number of things he simply hid. Still, what Shadow was asking about, that was different. She was asking for the only thing that he had never told anyone, not even his sister. It was a secret that would confirm all the worst things that had ever been said about him. It was a secret so horrible and shameful that if he told it, no one, not even a liespren, would ever associate with him again. He would become the ultimate liability.
“There’s nothing to tell,” he said.
“Elhokar,” Shadow began.
“That’s all.” he snapped and deliberately closed his eyes, effectively ending the conversation.
Things passed tensely which was not necessarily a surprise. Brightlord Amaram showed up which made Dalinar really happy, though Elhokar couldn’t figure out if that was just because he liked Amaram or because the brightlord was part of Dalinar’s plan. He was honestly afraid to ask.
They continued on with the planning meetings, though Dalinar’s plan still seemed insane. During one such meeting, Elhokar hung on until he couldn’t stand it anymore then headed out onto the balcony to get some air. He still couldn’t be around Dalinar and remain calm, not to mention other things were worrying him. Jasnah was supposed to have arrived at the Shattered Plains with Adolin’s new causal betrothed, but there had been no sign of either woman and no word. No one else seemed to be worrying about it, they kept saying things like “Jasnah always gets distracted and runs off to do other things. She’ll turn up.” Elhokar was worried, but of course he was always worried and as a result no one took him seriously, even though from what Navani had said it seemed like Jasnah had been quite keen on coming to the Shattered Plains.
Elhokar was worrying about all the harms which could have befallen his sister when he leaned against the railing and the whole thing gave way. For one horrible instant he was falling then he grabbed hold of a stable piece of railing and was jerked to a stop. He sucked in a breath and his veins flared up with Stormlight giving him enough strength to hold on and probably haul himself up once he calmed down enough to think. He swore as fouly as he was able, completely throwing all kingly decorum to the winds.
Adolin reached him first, and clung to his wrists until Dalinar arrived and they hauled Elhokar back up onto the balcony together. Elhokar half wanted to protest that he could have climbed up on his own, but he wasn’t known for his upper body strength and he didn’t want people asking pointed questions.
Once he was safely back up on the balcony, Dalinar ushered Elhokar inside with a hand on his back, seemingly unaware of how every muscle in Elhokar’s body tensed at his touch. Elhokar separated himself from his uncle as soon as possible and pointedly did not look towards the balcony. He wouldn’t be going out there again for a long time, possibly not ever. He kept his teeth clenched together, refusing to allow any of the words he wanted to say escape. He didn’t think he could handle his fears being pushed aside again.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Adolin said. He sounded breathless and flustered, which was weird, because Elhokar had always been under the impression that neither of his cousins particularly liked him. “What are the chances that an entire section of soulcast railing just gives way right when the king leans against it? It must have been an assassination attempt.”
Elhokar held his breath as he waited for Dalinar to berate Adolin and tell him that he was overreacting. However, all Dalinar did was look at Elhokar like he was hoping Elhokar had suddenly gone deaf and hadn’t heard then said, “You have a very legitimate point. Has someone sent for Captain Kaladin?”
Highstorms were on the list of things that didn’t terrify Elhokar. Sure, they made him uncomfortable, but no more so than any other person. If anything, he was actually less anxious during Highstorms because no one could get to him to assassinate him. Highstorms were better protection than bodyguards, especially when all your bodyguards were more loyal to your uncle than they were to you.
Ever since they’d realized that Dalinar was experiencing visions from the Almighty during Highstorms not raving madly, he and Navani had spent the Highstorms closed up in a private room. Dalinar described his visions and Navani copied them down, normally phonetically because Dalinar didn’t usually speak Alethi and often spoke in languages or dialects even Navani didn’t know. Navani had mentioned once in passing that she wished she had Jasnah to help her, and Elhokar had quickly avoiding the topic, because the easiest way to not to be terrified about his sister’s safety was not to think about her at all.
This particular Highstorm, Captain Kaladin was head of their guards, though the man bizarrely fell asleep partway through the Storm, something that Elhokar hadn’t even realized was possible. Adolin thought it was pretty funny and started speculating about how long it would take the bridgeman to notice if he drew a mustache on him.
“Remind me not to fall asleep around Adolin,” Elhokar muttered to Shadow, shifting into a more comfortable position in his armchair.
“I will keep that in mind,” Shadow said. “It would be very embarrassing if your cousin were to draw-” then she cut herself off and began buzzing in her high-pitched, something’s wrong tone.
Elhokar scrambled to his feet and headed to the privy without looking at Adolin and Renarin for fear of them seeing something. The roar of the Highstorm could cover Shadow’s voice when she was being quiet, but he didn’t want to risk someone hearing her like this.
He closed and locked the privy door behind him and turned to face the mirror, looking directly at the place where Shadow was riding on his shirt just over his heart, half-hidden by his coat. “Alright, what happened?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
Shadow buzzed again, a high-pitched, whining sound. She was actually vibrating a little, almost like a tremor. “Something’s coming,” she said, her words so full of frightened buzz that she was hard to understand. “It’s bad. He’s bad.”
“What do you mean ‘he?’” Elhokar asked, a sinking feeling starting in his chest and travelling down to his stomach.
“Elhokar,” Shadow said quietly, still vibrating. “It’s not safe.”
Elhokar pushed the privy door open and burst out into the main room. The scene had changed. The door to Dalinar and Navani’s room was open and Adolin and Renarin were standing in it, Captain Kaladin was nowhere in sight. Elhokar struck out across the room trying to decide how to approach this. It wasn’t like he could say that a spren had told him it wasn’t safe, but if he said anything else people would just think he was being paranoid.
When he reached his cousins he found that Captain Kaladin was inside the room talking to Navani. “Can you wake him?” the bridgeman was asking. “We need to leave this room, leave this place.”
“What’s going on?” Elhokar asked pushing by his cousins and stepping into the room.
“You’re not safe here, Your Majesty,” Kaladin said. There was a wild sort of knowing in his gaze, the same kind of knowing that was burning its way through Elhokar’s veins. This bridgeman knew something was wrong, Elhokar wasn’t sure how but he knew. “We need to get you out of the palace and take you to the warcamp.”
“This is ridiculous,” Adolin objected from behind him. “This is the safest place in the warcamps. You want us to leave? Drag the king out into the storm?”
“We need to wake the highprince,” Kaladin said, turning towards Dalinar. Elhokar was impressed by the man’s refusal to be pushed aside even after being called ridiculous.
Dalinar caught Kaladin’s arm before the bridgeman could do anything. “The highprince is awake,” he said. “What is going on here?”
“The bridgeboy wants us to evacuate the palace,” Adolin explained.
Dalinar looked to Kaldin for his explanation.
“It’s not safe here, sir.” Kaladin said.
“What makes you say that?”
There was slight, almost awkward pause then Kaladin said, “Instinct, sir.”
Dalinar stared at Kaladin for a minute then he got to his feet. “We go, then.”
Elhokar breathed an audible sigh of relief, that got him a weird look from everyone in the room, but thankfully Kaladin was too worried about whatever instinct had him asking for them to move to let anyone ask questions. He ran to the door, gave some orders to his men, then came back and grabbed Elhokar by the arm. Elhokar jerked and almost pulled away, but reminded himself that he was supposed to be a confused king, not a maybe-Radiant who knew something was going on and let himself be lead.
They ran down the hall towards the kitchens. Kaladin’s hand was like a vice around Elhokar’s arm, cutting off his circulation. It did nothing to make Elhokar less nervous. He would have liked to be able to pretend that his captain of guard knew how to protect them from whatever threat they were facing.
They came around the corner and there were no lights. Elhokar had never known the palace to ever have a dark hallway, even during the Weeping. Something was very wrong.
“Wait,” Adolin said, voicing everyone’s concerns. “Why is it dark? What happened to the spheres?”
The realization struck Elhokar a moment later. “They’ve been drained of Stormlight.”
Kaladin jerked like he hadn’t expected anyone else to realize that. Then he pulled out a sphere for light and they could all see the hole cut into the wall leading outside.
“Danger,” Shadow buzzed. “Danger.”
There was movement from a side corridor, then a figure dressed all in white and streaming Stormlight stepped into the hallway and Elhokar’s heart stopped. He had not actually seen the Assassin in White the night the man had killed Gavilar, but he’d been obsessed with and terrified by the man for six years so he knew what the man looked like.
All around him his family members and the bridgemen burst into motion, but Elhokar was frozen. He was staring down the thing he had feared for years, and he couldn’t breathe let alone think.
One of the bridgemen, grabbed him by the arm and Elhokar jumped. “Your majesty,” the bridgeman said. “Come with me.”
Elhokar let the bridgeman drag him down the hall, away from the darkness and the death. Vaguely he was aware of Navani and Renarin and another bridgeman running with them, but he could barely focus on anything. His chest was tight as a vice and there was a roaring in his ears.
They stopped running and Elhokar’s legs gave out. He slid to the floor in a pathetic heap, wheezing for breath. “Moash, where did the Assassin go?” Renarin asked from somewhere above him. “Is he not following?”
“Maybe he got stopped by the Kal and others,” the bridgeman who hadn’t been dragging Elhokar along--Moash?--said.
“Captain Kaladin can take him,” the other bridgeman said.
A hand settled on Elhokar’s shoulder. “Elhokar?” Navani asked. “Are you alright?”
“I can’t breathe,” Elhokar panted.
Moash might have snorted and muttered something under his breath, but Elhokar was too busy trying to breathe to really worry about it. Navani ran a hand up and down his back, comfortingly.
“Is he alright?” the other bridgeman asked. “What’s wrong?”
“He’ll be fine,” Navani said. “This happens sometimes.”
“I can carry him if we need to,” Renarin said sounding annoyed.
That was a level of humiliation that Elhokar would not stand. He struggled to his feet. “I’m fine,” he said, still trying to get air to circulate through his lungs. “We can go now.”
Navani got up, but kept her hand on his elbow. She looked at him like she wanted to ask a question, but he pointedly ignored her. Why couldn’t she let him at least attempt to pretend this hadn’t happened? No to mention, they did need to move. The Assassin could have killed Dalinar, Adolin and Kaladin by now and be stalking the halls for them. Elhokar desperately wanted to ask Shadow if she could tell where the Assassin was, but he already looked weak enough without seeming to talk to himself.
Moash was staring at him with an expression that wasn’t exactly neutral, though Elhokar couldn’t figure out what it was instead. “Alright,” the bridgeman said. “Let’s go.”
On the day that Dalinar held a meeting of all the highprinces to discuss the threat of the Assassin in White, Elhokar was somewhere on the weird line between hungover and still drunk. He’d been drinking quite a bit since Dalinar had attacked him in an effort to calm his nerves, but in the days since the Assassin it had increased exponentially. This was partially to keep from panicking and partially because he wasn’t stupid enough not to realize that the Assassin had actually been after Dalinar. He was stuck somewhere between shame that not even the Assassin in freaking White thought he was enough of a threat to bother killing and guilty relief that he might get to survive the whole fiasco. Either way, he was stuck at a meeting being lead by his usurping uncle and not brave enough to do anything about it even while mildly intoxicated.
With no better options, Elhokar sat on his throne and let Dalinar do the talking. Even knowing that Dalinar was the one in real danger he still felt horribly exposed without his Shardplate. Perhaps he actually was, after all someone had masterminded the railing assassination attempt and that probably hadn’t been the Assassin. However, he couldn’t actually wear the armor because the gems on the inside kept cracking or going dun. He had a feeling that had something to do with him being a Knight Radiant in the making, so he’d stopped wearing the Plate to keep people from asking questions he couldn’t answer.
Unsurprisingly to probably everyone but Dalinar, the meeting accomplished nothing. When they paused for a break several hours in the only indication that any time had passed was the change in the sun’s position. Elhokar was now firmly on the hungover side of the intoxication scale, and the bright sunlight filtering into the chamber was only making his headache worse. He was pretty sure he could use Stormlight to make himself feel better, but he’d been getting really paranoid about people noticing how often his person spheres were going dun. He would probably only use the Stormlight if he started to feel like he was going to throw up, because vomiting during a meeting like this would be a level of humiliating he refused to sink to.
He’d been sitting for several minutes nursing a goblet of orange wine and contemplating a stronger color to test something Jasnah had mentioned once about hangovers basically being withdrawals, when Navani turned away from the conversation she had been having and practically fled from the room. Dalinar was left standing with a red-haired girl Elhokar had never seen before, looking like he was thinking about going after her but couldn’t decide if that was his job.
Elhokar was on his feet almost before he decided to move. He didn’t bother with any excuses because the highprinces were all to busy scheming to pretend that Elhokar was little more than a comma to their obsession with beating Dalinar. Still a couple people did look up and call after him, but he ignored them and ducked into the cool and dim hallway after his mother.
Navani had been moving fast and had already vanished around a corner. Elhokar broke into a jog to catch up. Each step drove a spear of pain into his brain so he finally sucked in a little Stormlight to ease his headache. The passage was empty and that was a little unnerving; Elhokar hadn’t been without guards since his father’s death.
When he rounded the first corner he saw Navani up ahead. “Mother!” he called breaking into a faster pace that would probably be classified as an actual run.
For one minute Elhokar thought she was just going to ignore him, but then she stopped in the middle of the hallway and whirled to face him just as he caught up. There were actual tears in her eyes and the sight of them froze Elhokar’s blood. He had never seen seen Navani cry.
“Mother?” Elhokar ventured, hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”
Navani took a deep, shaky breath. “That girl,” she said, “apparently she just arrived in the Warcamps. She claims to be Shallan Davar.”
“Who?” Elhokar asked blankly. The name sounded vaguely familiar but he wasn’t able to place it.
“Jasnah’s new ward,” Navani said. “The one who we were talking about marrying to Adolin.”
“Right,” Elhokar said, a little knot of anxiety loosening. If Jasnah’s ward was here that meant Jasnah must be here too, she was fine. He’d been worrying for nothing. “Then I’m afraid that I don’t understand what’s wrong. Isn’t that good?”
“This girl says,” Navani swallowed unsteadily. “That during their trip here they were attacked by pirates and that…And that Jasnah was killed.”
The small sliver of relief died. Elhokar felt a hole open up inside himself. He didn’t try to convince himself that it wasn’t true. He knew it was true. He’d known for weeks that something horrible had happened to Jasnah, all this was confirmation. His sister was gone. “Mother,” he said, a sob coloring his voice. “I-”
“The girl must be an imposter,” Navani said, straightening her spine and making as if to push her hair out of her face though it was still perfectly in place. “She must be lying. Jasnah will show up. She always does.”
“Mother,” Elhokar said, trying to figure out how to tell one of the most rational women alive that she was being irrational. “I don’t think that girl would-” And then it really hit him. Jasnah was gone. Jasnah who had once when they were children tried to comfort him while he cried by rambling about how tears were just meant to lubricate the eyes so crying when emotional didn’t actually make any sense. Jasnah who had at least listened to his worries even if she thought they were as irrational as everyone else did. Jasnah who had looked at him as her shadow fell in an impossible direction and trusted him to keep it a secret. Jasnah who had probably been a potential Radiant and everything that the refounded Order both Dalinar and Shadow wanted on their side. One sob burst out of his mouth and another and another. He tried to force them back, but he couldn’t.
Navani’s safehand came to rest gently on the side of his face. He looked up at her and her face crumbled into a sob as well. They sank to the floor and clutched at each other in a heap of sobbing bodies. Elhokar’s face was pressed against Navani’s shoulder and hers was pressed against his. They were gripping each other’s clothes in white-knuckle grips, squeezing each other so tightly it was a wonder they could breathe.
Dimly Elhokar was aware that this was wrong. Alethi didn’t break down, let alone is hallways where anyone could walk by. Even Elhokar, weak as he was, hadn’t cried for his father, and if Navani had cried for her husband it was only when no one could see her. They shouldn’t be doing this, but he wasn’t sure if he could stop.
Some indeterminable amount of time later, Elhokar became aware of someone clearing their throat rather loudly. He lifted his head from Navani’s shoulder, where he’d managed to soak a patch of her dress with his tears. Moash was standing a handful of paces distant with a look of open hatred on his face. It wasn’t the kind of contempt Elhokar would have expected from an Alethi discovering other Alethi in an emotionally compromised position, it was a look of pure, animal hatred. It was only there for a moment, then it was gone. Elhokar must have just been paranoid. Still, he wished that Kaladin spent more time guarding him and not this man, even if you didn’t believe Adolin’s crazy story about Kaladin taking a Shardblade to an arm that was now completely healthy.
“What?” he asked. His voice clogged with tears and snot. It was humiliating.
“The meeting is beginning again,” Moash said, voice normal, if a bit clipped. “I will need to escort you back. It’s not safe with the Assassin in White running around.”
They could not go back, not with evidence of their breakdowns imprinted clearly on their faces. Elhokar might have been able to use Stormlight to erase that, but what he could do needed to remain a secret. “In case you hadn’t noticed,” he said to Moash. “The Assassin is after Dalinar, so we’re probably fine.”
He felt Navani stiffen, apparently she like everyone else thought he hadn’t figured that out. Thankfully she didn’t comment, because when she straightened up she pushed her now slightly messy hair back and said, “You can escort us to my son’s chambers. If you’re so worried, you can post more guards for us there.”
Moash argued a little, but no one could stand up to Navani Kholin when she had her mind made up. Eventually he did as she asked and Elhokar found himself curled up with Navani in his big bed. They cried on and off for a long time, and eventually Elhokar ended up lying with his head buried in a pillow while Navani stroked his head the way she had when he was a child. Neither of them said a word.
Elhokar was on the edge of sleep when someone knocked tentatively on the door. “Enter,” Navani called, her powerful queen’s voice back.
The door opened and someone came in. “Are you alright?” Dalinar asked. Elhokar stiffened a little, but Navani’s fingers kept running through his hair and that relaxed him again. Navani would protect him. She wouldn’t let Dalinar attack him again. He resumed his slow float to sleep.
“We’re fine,” Navani replied stiffly.
“Navani…” Dalinar sounded like he wasn’t sure how to proceed. “About Jasnah-”
“Don’t say anything about Jasnah,” Navani said tightly. “There’s nothing to say. That girl must be mistaken. Jasnah will be back.”
“Navani, you can’t just-” Dalinar paused as he tried to figure out what to say, but Elhokar never got to hear what he came up with, because that was when he slid away into the relatively peaceful embrace of sleep.
#The Stormlight Archive#Words of Radiance#fanfiction#fanfic#elhokar kholin#dalinar kholin#navani kholin#shadow (original spren character)#kaladin stormblessed#adolin kholin#renarin kholin#moash#part two#I promise this will actually diverge from canon eventually#sorry too lazy to be more creative with my tags today#emjenenla#Emjen writes#tw: panic attack#tw: death of a family member#tw: assassination attempt
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