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dancing-the-hellfire-rumba · 4 years

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Seen ✓ - 1

REWRITE OF “Can You See The Stars”

Pairing: Sam x Fem!Reader Warnings: fear of being kidnapped Word Count: 2.4k Series Summary: On her way home, Y/n finds an abandoned, cracked phone on the sidewalk. Anxious about the well-being of its owner, she picks it up and texts the first contact she finds; Sam. A/N:This is my second attempt at the story everyone loved, with an actual pllot in mind this time. So, attempt number two, better writing, better story. Have at it kids.

I have tagged the old taglist for this first part. Let me know if you wanna be removed/ added

Beta: The lovely @percywinchester27 . Thank you so so much hon :) Masterlist

Chapter One: you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night

Y/n | Sam

The road to independence is uphill, and Y/n knows this better than anyone. She’s done it all. She’s gone through jobs at a similar speed with which she goes through books, worked two or more of them, while also studying for college… She knows how it works, and it’s really fucking difficult to balance emotional baggage the size of a city, an underage sister and college, while also trying to keep, not only yourself, but another person, alive, under a safe roof with food in your stomachs.

Currently, she’s only working one job, at a dive bar owned by a friend of a friend as a waitress.

It’s a difficult job, and Y/n has struggled with it, but the hardest part is not the endless knowledge one needs to mix drinks –on the nights Joel takes time off and she has to take his spot behind the bar- or the carrying up to twenty pounds of glasses and drinks and delivering them at the right table without soaking herself or anyone else with copious amounts of alcohol. Any minimum wage worker will tell you the same thing- clients of any kind fucking suck. Especially if you’re a young woman at a dive bar after midnight.

Another thing she’s struggled with is not having too much money, which is why she’s needed multiple jobs in the past, so she has to use public transport- buses specifically, to go to and from work. And that is exactly where she finds herself, a couple hours after midnight, at her bus stop, five minutes from the bar, when she finds a phone which, unbeknownst to her, will flip her world upside down.

It sits on the pavement of the bus stop, limp and sad. The screen is cracked a significant amount, and for a second she figures someone got rid of it and was too much of an asshole to throw it in the trash. But the second that thought crosses her mind, the screen lights up with a concerning text.

dude where the fuck are you?!

The contact reads “Sam”, and Y/n stands over the phone staring at it. She’s concerned. What if the phone’s owner is in trouble? The device may have fallen from their pocket on the pavement and cracked because they were running from someone and never made it home, and now whoever is texting them is worried for their well-being. Anxiety grips her heart.

It’s instinct that brings her to kneel down and pick it up. She can’t possibly know when the owner lost it, or how long the phone has been sitting there, but there’s an overwhelming urge to contact this Sam person and let them know what’s going on. Of course, the voice in Y/n’s head tells her that this all could just be a product of her anxiety, but it beats leaving it there and having it be stolen by a passerby.

Whatever, right? Best case scenario, she contacts the owner, who is perfectly safe and sound, and they take their phone back. She’s not really planning to pocket it. It’s fairly damaged anyways. Her own three year old, beat-up, 100$ phone is in better condition.

The bus arrives, and Y/n picks up the phone and boards it.

As she sits in her usual seat in the back, alone in the bus apart from an elderly man asleep with his head on a window and a cap on his head near the front, she starts speculating, eyes glued to the black device in her hands. Who’s the owner? Who is Sam to them? Perhaps a partner? A friend? How did the owner lose their phone? Why would this Sam sound so concerned, and most importantly, is the owner okay?

The heavy weight of dread weighs her chest at the thought of the phone’s owner being in trouble and without a phone. She must contact Sam immediately.

Hey, is this Sam?

As she awaits for a response, her curiosity is killing her. The intrigued part of her, reasons that she should snoop, it’s alright, she’s only looking for more information about the owner. Like whether or not they’re a woman or a man- which, sadly, matters when you’re walking alone in dark streets like the ones around this area- and perhaps their age –because, again, it matters if they are a teenager or a forty-year old adult.

The lack of passcode indicates someone older, with nothing to hide, or perhaps someone less technologically savvy, again, someone who may not be very young. The lockscreen is the most popular Led Zeppelin icon, and she instantly respects their music taste, and the home screen is some generic western movie from the 90s with Clint Eastwood. The chances of this belonging to someone younger further decline.

There’s a grand total of four downloaded apps in the phone. There’s an email app, a scrabble app, a microphone recorder and a dating app, no other sign of social media. Someone over 18 years old, definitely.

Soon, she’s tapping on the dating app, and opening their profile page. Holy shit, she thinks.

A guy, the tall, dark and handsome kind. Spiky hair and a smolder-like smile, sharp edges everywhere on his face apart from his gentle, olive-shaped and colored eyes. His lips are full, his nose straight, and his eyelashes long, dark and thick. He’s a real-life dreamboat, the kind you see in movies and Cosmopolitan articles about sex. He’s sitting on a black muscle car, a Chevrolet, with his thick thighs barely contained in blue jeans.

Dean Winchester, the app writes. 28. Male. Likes: old cars, beer, hard rock, westerns, she figured that much, bacon burgers. Dislikes: pop music, modern horror movies, uncomfortable beds. Not looking for anything serious, just a night of fun ;), and wow, okay, he sounds a bit like a dick. The very Red-blooded American Male kind, that enjoys BBQs and winking at women from across the bar. She’s had enough of those during her line of work; she can recognize them from a mile away.

Whatever the case, her moral compass couldn’t allow her to pass up on the opportunity to possibly help someone in trouble. She ignores her urge to roll her eyes, and scrolls a little, finding other pictures of the same guy, when suddenly two separate notifications appear, the phone itself vibrating. One is from the app, which has now received a picture from this girl, Jamie, one which she certainly doesn’t plan on opening, seeing as it’s followed by a winky face. The second one is from Sam.

jesus dean how drunk are you

yes it’s sam. your brother? remember?

No, this isn’t Dean, uh.

My name is Y/n. Your brother lost his phone at a bus stop, near a bar.

i should’ve figured. dean rarely ever uses punctuation.

nice to meet you i guess

Nice to meet you, too.

So basically, uhm, I thought you might help me return his phone to him? I got worried, because this was dumped on the sidewalk, I thought he may be in trouble or something.

knowing him he probably dropped it while being too shitfaced to function.

gotta admit i’m impressed though. most people would’ve pocketed it by now.

I mean, it’s not much use to me with such a cracked screen haha.

yeah i guess.

i don’t know about getting it back to him though. i’m in kansas right now so i’m not close by. i don’t think i can help you.

he doesn’t use social media either.

Crap.

What the hell am I supposed to do with this phone then?

keep it probably.

You sure there’s no other way I can reach him?

i mean i can give you his email but i’m not sure he’ll respond.

I’ll take it. Thank you :)

no problem :)

As she looks up the bus stops, and she quickly realizes this is her stop. Throwing profanities loudly enough to wake the older man at the front of the bus, she scrambles for her things, haphazardly thrown in the seat next to her, and gets off the bus. She pats herself down, making sure she hasn’t forgotten anything as the doors of the bus shut, and starts down the road to her apartment complex.

She could probably navigate this road blind. There are many ways to reach the apartment she’s renting from the bus stop, but her favorite goes through the park. It’s a large area, full of big trees with thick foliage and leaves that brown in the fall. The paths are paved and winded, and the park benches are stained with dark wood stain and curve comfortably. She enjoys coming here in evenings she has off, watching the sun descend behind the top of the trees with a good book.

The air smells like oncoming rain now, and with headphones deep in her ears, she walks taking deep breaths and enjoying the clear atmosphere that seems so unlike the roads that surround the park. As soon as she spots the first raindrop falling from the sky, she pulls her hood over her head and smiles.

It’s minutes later, when single drops have picked up to a drizzle, that she gets a sinking feeling, her hair standing up on edge at the back of her neck, shoulders knotting closer to her ears. Someone is close to her.

With the wire pinched between her thumb and index, she pulls one earbud off and pays attention to the surrounding sounds. Sure enough there’s a second pair of footsteps behind her.

Fuck, if she gets kidnapped or attacked right now, she’s fucked. There are no witnesses, and at this time of night screaming for help would be futile. She checks her bag, but her paper spray is nowhere to be found.

Yeah. Definitely fucked.

Her hands go deep in her pockets, going for her phone, but as she hears the footsteps behind her picking up speed along with hers, she panics and grabs Dean’s instead. She doesn’t look for her own, there’s no time for that, so she does the first thing she thinks of.

She texts Sam.

I think I’m being followed.

what?

Yeah

wait what’s going on? are you okay? who’s following you?

I’m walking home from work. I can’t see who it is, but they’re definitely on my tail.

how are you even typing right now??

is there any buildings around? somewhere public to get in?

It’s 3 am. Everything is shut and I’m in the middle of a fucking park, Sam.

Fuck, I’m fucked.

what are you doing at 3 am in the middle of a fucking park then?!

A hand falls on her shoulder and she goes to scream, before she’s quickly spun around. Her free hand is curled in a fist, ready to fall on the attacker’s nose, when they speak.

“Y/n! I thought it was you!”

“Connor?!” She squints and pushes her hair away from her forehead, heart just about ready to fail out of the fright she’s gotten. “Fuck’s sake, dude, what the fuck are you doing sneaking up on me in the middle of the night like this?!” Rain still falls on her, grounding her to the present, the fact she won’t have to fight for her life and corporeal integrity sinking in slowly.

Her neighbor smiles a crooked smile, watching her place a hand over her heart and taking a deep breath. His fluffy blonde hair is damp under the light rain, light green eyes glowing under the street lights. She’s so angry at him right now, she legitimately thought she was gonna die for a second there.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he says, dropping his hand from her shoulder. “I didn’t think to call out to you.” A shrug.

“It’s okay,” it’s really not, but there’s no point in staying angry at him. Besides, she figures she’ll be a little safer with him walking next to her all the way back to their apartment complex.

On the way back, they catch up. Connor is back in town after a long week and a half at his sister’s wedding. He’s in a brand new relationship with the guy he’s been pining over for like 9 months now, and he got a job at the bookstore, close to their building, he’s starting next week. He was out for a drink, he offers as an explanation, and was returning home, when he bumped into her. The park is also his favorite route to take.

The key dangles from her hands and finds a home in the lock and twists, while Y/n waves at her neighbor.

“Have a good night, Connor.”

“You too, Y/n.” It’s delivered with a wink and a bright smile.

The motions of dropping her bag by the kitchen counter, dumping the keys in the small bowl and hanging her coat on the hanger are delivered on autopilot in quick succession. Shoes toed off, hair pulled out of her lazy bun, she falls unceremoniously on her thrifted couch, feet suspended on the hand rest. Emmy must be asleep, the only lights on in the house are the fairy lights over the couch, setting a soft glow over the furniture. Y/n sighs. What a day.

Seconds before she falls asleep on the couch, a phone vibrates and it’s definitely not her own. Her eyes snap wide open, and she curses, fumbling with Dean’s device.

The messages are seven, and they all share the same panicked tone. Upon reading them, Y/n facepalms and curses, guilt weighing her down. Poor guy.

y/n?

what’s going on?

are you okay?

y/n

what the hell is going on.

you’re not replying.

please text me if you’re safe.

My God, Sam, I’m so sorry.

It was a neighbor/friend, he sneaked up on me.

you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night.

I’m genuinely so sorry, Sam, I had no idea it was him.

it’s okay

you were scared.

i am starting to question your choice in friends though.

Y/n grins for the first time that day. It’s wide and full. Sam sounds like a guy she’d hang out with.

Hahahah yeah.

I promise, Connor’s odd, but he means well.

well i have to go

but i’m glad you’re safe

Again, I’m really sorry to make you go through that.

it’s fine really.

Thank you.

Goodnight :)

Night :)

---

Part 2

A/N 2: Tell me how you’re liking the rewrite!

Old Can You See The Stars taglist: @shutupiminlooove @sammysgirl1997 @kymberlytorres @bambi95-blog @demonic-meatball @thekarliwinchester @littlekay15 @li-m-ii @thinspo-isuppose @carryonmywaywarddemigodwitch @ellen-reincarnated1967 @moonlitskinwalker @marichromatic @illuminatus42 @lazy-author @mirandaaustin93 @hauntedsiriel @pilaxia @devilgirlsarah @nobodys-baby-now @captiveties @calamitychaos @midiocris @wordswillscream

Sam taglist @kymberlytorres @theboykingsam @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes @captainmarvelcorps @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away @nellachain

#sam winchesterx reader #sam x fem!reader #sam winchester x fem!reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural #spn fanfic #sam x reader

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babygirlkiki1016 · 4 years

Text

The Hunt Begins

When we got to Stanford Dean told me just to wait outside by the Impala. About twenty minutes later I hear voices coming from the building. I see Dean take a glance at me to see if I was still there. Sam was saying something but Dean just rolls his eyes.

"The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors." I heard Sam say as they cross the parking lot to the Impala.

"So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?" Dean growls.

"No. Not normal. Safe."

"And that's why you ran away." Dean looks away.

"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." Sam is silent.

"I can't do this alone."

"Yes you can." I joke, making both of the boys look at me.

"Yeah, well, as Y/n pointed out earlier which you weren't here for, I don't want to."

"Wait, that's Y/n? Y/D/N's kid?" Sam asked surprised. "You brought his kid here?! Do you know what he's going to do to us when he realizes she's missing!?"

"Uh I believe he already knows." I interrupt.

"Look, she wanted to come so I didn't stop her besides she's eighteen." Dean points out. Sam sighs and looks down, thinking, then up.

"What was he hunting?" Sam asked as Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, then the spare-tire compartment, it's an arsenal.

"Holy crap this is cool!" I exclaimed as Dean props the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter.

"I know right? All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"

"So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Sam asks.

"I was working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans."

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Dean looks over at Sam.

"I'm twenty-six, dude."

"And then you went to Y/D/N for help?"

"That's about right, she offered to help cause her father wouldn't." Dean pulls some papers out of a folder. "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy." Dean hands one of the papers to Sam, I look over his shoulder to see. "They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA. The paper is a printout of an article from the Jericho Herald, headlined Centennial Highway Disappearance and dated Sept. 19th 2005; it has a man's picture, captioned Andrew Carey MISSING." Sam reads it and glances up.

"So maybe he was kidnapped."

"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April." Dean hands me a Jericho Herald article for each date he mentions. "Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years." Dean takes the article's back from us and picks up the rest of the stack, putting them back in the folder. "All men, all the Same five-mile stretch of road." Dean pulls a bag out of another part of the arsenal. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough." He grabs a handheld tape recorder. "Then I get this voicemail yesterday." He presses play, the recording is staticky and the signal was clearly breaking up.

"Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger...and if you can...Y/D/N's kid." Dean presses stop.

"Wait...he mentioned me." I say silently.

"What does dad want with Y/n?" Sam asks.

"I don't know that's why I went to your dad. So whatever is going on, obviously your part of it."

"Well other than the creepy message involving me, you know there's EVP on that?" I said.

"Not bad, Y/n. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shakes his head. "All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got." He presses play again.

"I can never go home..." Was the voice that was heard, Dean presses stop.

"Never go home." Sam comments, trying to think what it could mean. Dean drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it. "You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back. "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him." Sam submits, Dean nods. "But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here." Sam turns to go back to the apartment but turns back when Dean speaks.

"What's first thing Monday?"

"I have this...I have an interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it."

"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?" Dean smirks.

"So we got a deal or not?" Dean says nothing, Sam turns back around and heads back into the building.

"Your brother is certainly...not happy." I look over at Dean who shrugs.

"Eh he'll get over it." Dean smirks and gets back in the car, Dean maybe be smiling but I have a bad feeling about this.

Dean comes out of the convenience mart carrying junk food. Sam is sitting in the shotgun seat with the door open, rifling through a box of tapes as I was sitting in the back with the window down. I don't know what he's looking for but it must be important.

"Hey!" Dean says with a smile on his face. Sam leans out and looks at him. "You want breakfast?"

"No, thanks."

"Y/n? I got you coffee, along with some biscuits." He hands me the food.

"Thanks...." I say and take the food from him. "So how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam asks. "You and Dad still running credit card scams?"

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career." Dean puts the nozzle that he left running while he went inside back on the pump. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam swings his legs back inside the car and closes the door.

"Uh, Burt Aframian." Dean gets into the driver seat and puts his soda and chips down.

"And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal."

"That's pretty smart, man I wish I thought of that. Then I wouldn't have had to get a job." I joke as Dean closes the door, Sam looks back at me then at Dean.

"Only a few days and your already a bad influence on her." Sam chuckles. "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection." From what I could see there are at least a dozen cassettes in the box on Sam's lap; some have album art, others are hand-labeled.

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two." Sam holds up a tape for every band he names. "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Dean takes the box labeled Metallica from Sam. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"And that's probably why he has them." I interrupt while sipping my coffee.

"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape in the player. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." Dean drops the Metallica box back in the box of tapes and starts the engine.

"Wait." Sammy looks back at me as Dean drives off. "Why does she get coffee?"

"Well I asked her what she wanted and she told me."

"You didn't ask me...."

"Suck it up Sammy." Sam made a pouty face, I look down at my coffee then back at him. I reach forward and politely offer him some which Dean notices.

"Aw look at that she's willing to share."

"Shut up." Sam said with a blush on his face as he slowly took my cup.

Sam is talking on his cell phone. "Thank you." He says then closes his phone. "All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue."

"Well at least we know he's ok." I said, making Sam nod in agreement.

"That's something, I guess." Dean glances over at us, then back at the road. At a bridge ahead of them, there are two police cars and several officers.

"Woah, I wonder what happened." I wondered as Sam leans forward for a closer look, Dean pulls over. We take a long look before Dean turns off the engine. Dean opens the glove compartment and pulls out a box full of ID cards with his and John's faces. Visible ones include FBI and DEA. He picks one out and grins at Sam, who stares.

"Let's go." Dean gets out of the car and me and Sam follow pursuit. On the bridge, the lead Deputy, leans over the railing to yell down to two men in wetsuits who were poking around the river.

"You guys find anything?" He yells.

"No! Nothing!" The other man who was below us replied. The deputy turns back to the car in the middle of the bridge. Another Deputy, is at the driver's side looking around inside the car. The three of us walk into the crime scene, I felt out of place but the brothers acted like they belong there.

"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Dean asks as the first Deputy looks up when he starts talking and straightens up to talk to him.

"And who are you?" Dean flashes his badge. "Federal marshals."

"You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you? Especially the girl." Dean laughs. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you." Dean goes over to the car. "You did have another one just like this, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that."

"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam questioned, Jaffe, as it says on his name tag, nods.

"Town like this, everybody knows everybody." Dean circles the car, looking around.

"...And that is why I hate small towns." I state. "Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?"

"Uh N-No. Not so far as we can uh tell."

"So what's the theory? I'm thinking insane hitchhiker." Sam goes over to Dean as I keep the deputy busy.

"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean insults, Sam stomps on his foot.

"Thank you for your time." I say and the three of us head back to the Impala. Jaffe watches us go but I could the two talking.

"She's a pretty one ain't she?" Jaffe mentions, I ignored him, pervert I thought. Dean smacks Sam on the head, catching my attention.

"Ow! What was that for?" Sam grumbled.

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?"

"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?" Dean looks at Sam and moves in front of him, forcing Sam to stop walking.

"Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." Sam clears his throat and looks over Dean's shoulder. Dean turns to see a Sheriff and two FBI agents.

"Can I help you boys?" The sheriff asks.

"No, sir, we were just leaving." I smile at them, giving them some reassurance and walk past the three men. Dean and Sam head past the Sheriff, who turns to watch us go.

Later we decided to go talk to this young woman, the second deputy's daughter I believe. As we walk up the street the marquee on the Highland Movie Theater reads in big bold letters: EMERGENCY TOWN HALL MEETING SUNDAY 8 PM BE SAFE OUT THERE. Below that a young woman is tacking up posters with Troy, the missing boy's face and the caption "Missing Troy Squire". The three of us approach.

"I'll bet you that's her." Dean says

"Well no shit sherlock, if course it's her." I joke, the boys turn towards me.

"Listen sweetheart you may be helping us, but that doesn't give you the right to curse."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say shit, fuck, crap. Sorry!" I giggle, making Sam smirk. Dean ignores me and walks up to the young woman.

"You must be Amy." Dean points out.

"Yeah." She says as she looks towards us. "Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean, this is Sammy and that's-" Dean was saying, trying to think on what I should be. "-my girlfriend Y/n." I give him a weird look and so does Sam, girlfriend? I thought. He couldn't have gone with sister or something?

"He never mentioned you to me." Amy walks away as the three of us tag along.

"Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"We never really talk to Troy much, teenager's these days. Never wanna hang out with the adults." I chimes in as another young woman, comes up to Amy and puts a hand on her arm.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asks, while eyeing the three of us.

"Yeah." Amy replies.

"Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?" I asked. "You probably know my nephew to be better then I do."

"Woah trying to get married already babe" Dean jokes as he puts an arm around my shoulder. "I thought the man asks the woman?"

"Well, 'darling' technically I am the one who is the man in this relationship." Sam and the two girls try not to giggle.

The five of us are sitting in a booth, Dean and Sam opposite Amy and Rachel while I'm sitting at the end of the table with a normal chair. The chair was turned away from the table as I was facing the four if them.

"So...Amy." I start. "What happened the night Troy disappeared?"

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did."

"He didn't say anything strange?" Sam asks, Amy shakes her head.

"No. Nothing I can remember."

"I like your necklace." I state, Amy holds the pendant she's wearing, a pentagram in a circle, and looks down at it.

"Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents-" Amy laughs. "-with all that devil stuff.

"Do you know where he got it?"

"Um...no actually."

Sam laughs a little and looks down, then up.

"Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing." Sam says.

"Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries."

Dean jokes, takes his arm off the back of Sam's seat and leans forward. "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything..." Amy and Rachel look at each other. "What is it?"

"Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk." Rachel, the other girl says. Dean and Sam speak in chorus. "What do they talk about?"

"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean looks at Sam, who watches Rachel attentively, nodding. "Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

"So let me guess you believe in this so called legend?" I ask.

"It's a possibility, you never know." Sam and Dean look at each other.

Considering that Rachel mentioned this legend, we made a trip to the library. Dean was in the computer with a web browser open to the archive search page for the Jericho Herald. The words "Female Murder Hitchhiking" are typed into the search box. Dean clicks go; the screen tells him there are "(0) Result". Dean replaces "Hitchhiking" with "Centennial Highway" with the same response.

"Your not gonna find anything in the internet. You gotta go old school." I point out.

Sam sighs, who is sitting next to him, watching.

"Let me try." He offered, Dean smacks Sam's hand.

"I got it." Sam shoves Dean's chair out of the way and takes over. "Dude!" Dean hits Sam in the shoulder. "You're such a control freak."

"You two are definitely brothers." I giggle, the boys just shake there heads. I push both of them out of the way "If you want to find a spirit, you gotta go dark. Angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?"

"Yeah." Dean agrees.

"Well, it's not murder." I replace "Murder" with "Suicide" and find an article entitled "Suicide on Centennial". Both if the boys seemed surprised. I open the article, dated April 25, 1981, I read what the article had to say. "A local woman's drowning death was ruled a suicide, the county Sheriff's Department said earlier today. Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge, at mile 33 of Centennial Highway, and subsequently drowned last night. Deputy J. Pierce told reporters that, hours before her death, Ms. Welch logged a call with 911 emergency services. In a panicked tone, Ms. Welch described how she found her two young children, 5 and 6, in the bathtub, after leaving them alone for several minutes. I continued to skim the article. " Here this is what the husband said, What happened to my children was a terrible accident. And it must have been too much for my wife. Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it. Now I ask that you all please respect my privacy during this trying time."

"So she committed suicide." Sam says. "Good job Y/n."

"Quiet there's more. At the time of the children's death and Ms. Welch's subsequent suicide, Mr. Welch was at the Frontier auto salvage yard, where he works the graveyard shift as associate manager. Connie might have been quiet, but she was the sweetest, most caring girl I ever knew, said Deanna Kripke, a neighbor. She just doted on those children."

Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Hm. The bridge look familiar to you?" Dean asks.

The three of us walk along the bridge, then stop to lean on the railing and look down at the river.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean states.

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks.

"If your dad was here then he would've stopped the spirit right?" I wondered.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."

"Okay, so now what?"

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while." Sam stops and looks at Dean.

"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday-" Dean turns around.

"Monday. Right. The interview."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some Lawyer? Marry your girl?"

"Maybe. Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Sam steps closer, I could tell a fight was about to break out.

"No, and she's not ever going to know."

"Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are."

Dean turns around and keeps walking, Sam follows.

"Guys c'mon we got more important things to do." I state.

"Stay out of this Y/n!" Both of them say at the same time.

"Who am I really Dean?" Sam says.

"You're one of us." Sam hurries to get in front of Dean.

"No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility to-"

"To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." Dean grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge. Instantly I push Dean back, he begins to protest.

"Y/n-"

"No enough out of both of you. Focus, look if San wants out if this life then so be it. You can't change that, I may not know much about what you guys do for a living but I know damn well I wouldn't want to be hunting monsters all the time."

"What do you mean don't know much about what we do?" Sam questioned, clearly aggravated. "You brought her into this!"

"She decided this not me! I gave her the offer to walk away!"

"That wasn't her decision to make! If Y/D/N kept her out if this then you shouldn't have brought her with you!"

"She's eighteen! She can do whatever the hell she wants!"

"No Dean she's not eighteen! She's seventeen! She doesn't turn eighteen till (your birthday)." Dean looks at me, clearly surprised that I lied. However I wasn't paying attention, the spirit of Constance was standing at the edge of the bridge.

"Uh guys." The boys forget there argument and stand infront of me, like I'm something to be protected. Consance looks over at them, then steps forward off the edge. We run to the railing and look over.

"Where'd she go?" I asked.

"I don't know." Sam said, then behind us, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on, catching our attention.

"What the-who the fuck is driving your car!?" Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. The car jerks into motion, heading straight for them.

"Run!" I yell. The car is moving faster than we are, when it gets too close, the boys dive over the railing but it was to late for me.

The New Hunter Masterlist

#dean supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester imagines #sam winchester #sam winchester imagines #dean x y/n #dean x reader #sam x y/n #sam x you #sam x reader

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breakingsomething · 4 years

Text

october tenth - part four (end)

basic summary: while jack bonds with chase and someone new, anti tries to fight back his ever growing pain by making many, many bad decisions. tagging @beebmo for inspiring this idea!

trigger warnings: blood, murder mention, self harm, suicidal ideation, knives

aiden finally came home five days after their fight.

jack had just been making coffee, wearing only his flamingo shorts and a pair of mismatched socks. no one was here anyway, and he had a few videos prerecorded, so he didn't really have to do much of anything. might as well just do whatever. he let his head hit the kitchen sideboard, half falling asleep standing up as he waited for the coffee maker to finish.

when he sat up, aiden was standing next to the door.

"bloody mother of mary, aiden!" jack cried, jumping and accidentally slamming his elbow into the table. then he took a closer look at him. aiden looked… so tired. big bags under his eyes, curly hair greasy and skin pale. he was wearing an oversized purple hoodie that jack didn't recognize, and he was staring at the ground in front of him, not daring to look up.

"oh, shit, aiden," jack murmured, much softer. he wasn't sure what to do, nervously cracking his knuckles and rubbing the back of his neck. "i'm - i'm sorry. i'm so sorry. i shouldn't have hidden it from you, i shouldn't have tried to hide it, i should have -"

aiden cut him off. "save it," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "it's cool. i don't wanna talk about it anymore."

jack nodded, his eyes suddenly burning. the coffee maker pinged, and he turned and busied himself with that, afraid that if he kept looking at aiden he'd start crying again. he'd been doing enough of that lately.

aiden was suddenly standing beside him. "i'd hug you," he joked. "but you're not wearing a shirt and it might be a bit weird."

jack cracked a small grin, and aiden just stared into the sink, neither one looking at the other. everything felt very odd between them for some reason. like in the few days they'd been apart, the distance between them had stretched for another thousand miles.

"so you're… aiden, you're gonna stay here, right?" jack asked tentatively, not wanting to set him off again. aiden's expression soured, his eyebrows narrowing, and his fingers dug into his sleeve.

"don't call me that." he almost spat, and jack set down his mug to properly look at him.

"call you… aid, that's your name. what else -"

"anti," he said, not glancing up from the sink. "call me anti."

they were silent for a moment. and for that moment, jack saw something in his friend that made his heart feel so much heavier than he could have imagined. something that he couldn't have explained if he tried. it was like the pain of losing something important to you. the pain of looking at something you love and knowing it's not going to be around much longer. and just the thought of that made jack's eyes well up with tears, and he turned away before he pulled his friend into a hug and never let go.

"ok," he said quietly. "ok."

nothing was the same.

despite staying in the same house as him, aiden was definitely avoiding jack. he barely saw him, and when he did, they almost never spoke. and when they did… jack couldn't bring himself to call his friend "anti." the name felt so… harsh. so painful. like aiden had just rejected everything that jack had ever made him, given him, those almost four years of friendship. was jack really that much of a terrible friend that aiden would just throw everything away?

apparently so. but soon, jack found something else to distract himself with - an unnamed number he recognized calling him up one morning while he was washing dishes. he'd raced into the living room to answer it upon hearing the default ringtone, but aiden was already there, holding it out to him without looking.

"it's the hat wearing one," he said nonchalantly, staring down at his laptop screen. jack bit his lip and took the phone, wondering if aiden was hoping he wouldn't answer, if he was supposed to put the phone down and tell aiden he was the only one who mattered. but his friend's expression gave nothing away, and jack uncertainly left the room and stood outside the door, answering the call.

"...chase?" he faltered. "that you?"

he heard a breath on the other end of the line. jack leaned against the wall, hitting his head again it gently.

"is this a butt dial call?" he tried to lighten the tension. "or one of the kids? hello, connor, louise, is that you?"

another second of silence. jack hesitated.

"if… if this is one of the kids…" he started. "can you tell your father i'm sorry i freaked him out, and i'm sorry i didn't tell him the whole truth straight away when i should have? i only made things worse for all of us, and i was stupid. will you tell him that? please?"

there was a small chuckle. "hey. it's just me," chase murmured. "just me. sorry to disappoint."

jack snorted, a smile appearing on his lips. "aw man, get off the line. put connor on the phone." relief filled him when chase laughed, a full, real laugh. then he sighed, biting his lip. "listen, chase… i -"

"can we talk irl?" chase interrupted. "i, uh, don't have a lot to do today and… i wanna get out the house anyway."

jack nodded, feeling dumb when he remembered chase couldn't see him. "yeah, sure, absolutely," he said, running a hand through his hair. ugh, he could feel how greasy it was. he had been wearing a hat for videos because he'd been too lazy to wash it. "let me take a shower first. then we can… costa?"

he heard chase exhale. "yeah, yeah. costa sounds good right now."

once he'd hung up, jack had to go through the living room to get to his own room. aiden barely looked up at him as he passed through, pausing hesitantly by the stairs. "aid - anti?" he questioned. "are you alright?"

aiden grunted, not taking his eyes off his laptop. jack waited for a second before speaking again. "i'm going out with chase." at this, aiden blinked, his expression changing for only a split second before he got it under control again. he didn't reply for a moment.

"good for you," he mumbled, and pulled his computer closer to him so it covered his face. jack sighed before going up the stairs to get ready.

once he'd showered and gotten changed, he took a moment to just look at himself in the mirror. he looked exhausted. he'd barely been sleeping lately, opting to cover the bags under his eyes in makeup so no fans would be concerned for him. his hair was getting too long, swooping almost in front of his eyes. he would have to get that cut soon. his lips were chapped and slightly bloody from how often he bit them, and his skin was blotchy from how much he'd been crying. he looked exhausted. he looked pathetic.

he tried again with aiden on the way out. "hey, man. i'm… you're gonna be ok here?"

aiden finally looked up at that, unamused. "yes, jack. i will be fine on my own." he monotoned, and jack winced. "go do your thing with jinx hat. i'll be perfectly fine, thanks for the concern."

jack swallowed and left without another word.

chase was waiting for him in costa, biting his knuckles and staring out the window. jack nearly lost all courage and turned round, but really… he had nothing left to lose at this point. besides, chase had seen him through the glass and had visibly brightened, sitting up and waving. despite himself, jack smiled as he went inside.

"hey," he said as he sat down across from him. chase looked tired too, but he managed a smile. "how have, uh… how've you been holding up?"

chase shrugged, spreading his hands out. "'bout as well as i can be," he said casually, spinning his phone round the table on its pop socket. "everything's been a bit… hectic, recently. i don't know. what about you?"

jack mimicked chase's shrug. "same for me, i guess." he hesitated. "look, i'm sorry about… the subway thing. that was a lot, and i'm sorry."

chase gave a shuddering breath. "oh, yeah, that was definitely a lot." he glanced up, tilting his head back slightly on his chair. "but i'm totally over it." he laughed. "actually, no, i'm very much not. i don't know why i said that."

jack nodded. "do you want me to try and explain?"

"oh, please do."

they got up and ordered (a green tea with a white chocolate and raspberry muffin for chase, a flat white coffee and chocolate chip cookie for jack), and talked quietly as they did so. well, this time jack mostly talked, chase listening. by the time they'd sat back down with their stuff, jack had pretty much filled him in on everything.

"holy crap," chase murmured. "that's… a lot. once again."

"are you alright?" jack asked. "i get that i, like, just blew your entire existence. if that makes any sense."

"give me a couple minutes to come to terms with this," chase said, sipping his drink. they were silent, both lost in their own heads.

"this is a prank," chase eventually concluded, turning to look jack right in the eyes. "right? where are the cameras or whatever, is this some kind of prank show that you're a part of?" he laughed without humor. "very funny, you really got me."

"chase, i swear -" jack started, but chase cut him off.

"i looked up that youtube channel you told me about," he said. "jacksepticeye? looked it up. it doesn't exist. shit's not real. god, you could have at least tried."

jack blinked in shock. "but it - it does!" he spluttered. he fumbled in his pocket for his phone. "here, i'll show -"

"i'm not a complete goddamn moron, jack," chase muttered, but then jack pulled up his channel which was, thankfully, still there, and chase's eyes widened.

"but i - i looked it up last night on my computer - there was nothing!" he stammered. he slumped back in his seat. "i swear, there was - i'm not lying!"

jack shifted in his seat, suddenly restless. "i don't know. i don't know, ok? maybe you spelled it wrong." and before chase could protest further, jack changed the subject. "anyway, fuck. i don't wanna think about all the technical improbabilities of this fucking world. i don't even know what i am to be able to create people."

chase fanned his face with his hands, breathing heavily. "fuck!" he said, a bit too loudly. "fuck, man." he suddenly stilled. "so does your friend hate me? aiden?"

jack paused before nodding slowly. "uh, at the moment, yes. but… maybe if you got to know each other, that could change?" he winced. "i don't know. that sounds dumb. but… what do you think?"

chase unwrapped his muffin, also nodding. "i mean, yeah. i'd be down. if you're certain he wouldn't kill me."

jack laughed, relaxing slightly. "he wouldn't kill you, man. he's just… he's a bit aggressive sometimes. he's got some antisocial tendencies. and he's, uh, a bit… doesn't like new people."

"yeah, i definitely got that," chase said, and they both laughed.

a few days passed by. chase and jack kept in touch, meeting up a few times to walk around town and talk. aiden continued to avoid talking to jack. and with the end of september came a burst of extreme cold so bad that school was briefly cancelled and everyone was to stay inside as much as possible.

"it's never this cold, even in england," jack joked to aiden, who was sitting at the kitchen table on his phone. he didn't even acknowledge jack had spoken.

suddenly, he'd had enough. "are you ever going to talk to me again?" he demanded. aiden made a face, and jack felt anger and hurt rising up in his chest. "please, aiden, anti, whatever, can you just -"

"hard to want to talk to you when you won't even respect my choice to change my name," aiden interrupted, and jack deflated. he blinked away the tears that rose up in his eyes.

"anti," he said finally. anti looked up, something in his eyes that jack didn't recognize. "anti. i'm sorry i've been such a douche. ok? i'm - what else do you want, man?"

anti didn't say anything. then he craned his neck to look at the ceiling, leaning back in his chair. "dunno," he mumbled. "to go back in time, i guess."

that wasn't something jack could do. he chewed the inside of his mouth and stayed quiet.

anti stared at the flats, biting his lip with frustration.

they'd fucking spelled the place. anywhere he tried to get in just shocked him, so badly he couldn't seem to push through. had it been the cat who'd done it, or something other powerful magician that the two of them knew? it didn't matter. he couldn't fucking get in.

he cursed red and the cat under his breath. they were smart, he could see that. and powerful. far too powerful. it might even end up that they could be a match for anti.

whatever. they couldn't stay in there forever. he'd get them one day. one day. and then they'd fucking pay.

chase called him that night in tears.

"chase - chase, calm, i can't understand what you're saying," jack said, pacing the kitchen with his phone to his ear. anti, on the couch in the other room, snorted loudly.

"she's k-kicking me out," chase sobbed, voice slightly slurred. jack could hear car horns in the background. "she says 'm a bad example for th'kids, says she's afraid i'll - i'll hurt -" he cried out, the connection fuzzing for a moment. "i wouldn't hurt them, jack!"

"hey, hey, i know you wouldn't," jack consoled, trying to stay calm. "chase, where are you?"

there was a rush of noise on the other end and then the call went dead.

"f- oh, for fuck's sake!" jack despaired. he went round the corner to the living room, looking in at anti. "dude, can you help me?"

anti yawned dramatically, stretching his arms above his head. "with what?" he asked slowly, knowing exactly what jack was going to ask.

"chase is - his wife kicked him out, apparently, he sounded drunk and upset, i need you to help me find him. you can track cell phone signals, right?" jack blurted. anti sighed, rolling his eyes.

"hmm, some days i can. other days i just… can't, you know?" anti said with a small smirk. jack balled his fists up and resisted the urge to scream.

"anti, for fuck's sake, i am not kidding around tonight," jack spat, practically shaking with silent rage. "can you help me or should i go out looking for him myself?"

anti blinked at jack's anger. he evidently hadn't been expecting jack to be so upset. "ok, yeah, i can track signals," he mumbled. he got to his feet, swaying slightly on the spot. "i'll - fuck, i guess i'll help if you want."

"thank you, anti," jack said softly. anti just made a noise and grabbed his jacket, going towards the door.

anti traced the signal all right, but the time they got to where it had been, chase was long gone. anti tried to find the signal again to locate where chase's phone was now, but in such a big city with so many people, everything got muddled up into one. they searched for hours, to no avail, and went home defeated.

"can't believe i wasted my evening on that fucker," anti announced as they walked back in. "fucking waste of time, waste of a good -"

"thanks anyway," jack interrupted before anti could go on a spiel. "you, uh, didn't have to help me, but thank you for doing that. even if we - yeah."

anti softened for just a moment, brown eyes warming, before glancing away from jack and stiffening again. "whatever," he mumbled, and said nothing more.

chase called him the next afternoon. "jack!" he said, sounding a lot more chipper than jack had expected him to. "jack, my friend, i have something awesome to tell you!"

jack furrowed his brow. "didn't your - man, are you ok? where were you last night?"

he could almost hear chase grinning. "stayed with my new friend henrik!" he said. "and i think you'll definitely want to meet him!"

jack yawned, rubbing the space between his eyes. "mmhmm, yeah. chase, do you have any idea how long me and anti spent searching for you last night?"

chase paused. "oh, shit. man, i'm - i'm sorry. i got… extremely drunk." he gave an embarrassed laugh. "really sorry. i meant to call again."

"yeah, it's cool," jack said, shaking his head. "i'm sorry about your wife, man, it's a shitty situation. why do you want me to meet your friend?"

"oh, you definitely will," chase said, and jack could hear someone shout something in the background. "i'm fucking hungover as all hell, dude, and i feel like absolute shit in every sense, but i think we should meet up. uh, maybe tomorrow, cause i think i might throw up sometime very soon. can we do that? i need something to take my mind off of, well, everything."

jack heard a crash from the other room, and anti cursing loudly. "uh, yeah, if you wanna. where?"

"i'm - i'm pretty broke, not gonna lie. henrik's pretty well off at the moment, but we decided to go cheap. you ok with mcdonalds?"

jack peeked into the living room. anti had dropped his glass of water, and it had smashed on the floor. he was on his hands and knees, attempting to pick up the pieces. "yeah, sounds cool. i gotta go, k?"

"yep!" chase said cheerfully. "see you at maybe twelve or so tomorrow?"

jack made a noise of affirmation and hung up, rushing into the living room. "anti, you ok?"

he didn't say anything, just continued trying to pick up the glass with his hands. jack sighed. "man, don't do that, you're gonna hurt yourself."

"don't give a shit," anti mumbled. he gave a small gasp and dropped a piece, grabbing at his wrist.

"aid - fuck's sake, get back." jack pushed anti's hands away and scooped up the glass with a dustpan. "how did you drop the glass, did you trip or something?"

anti made several odd noises. "hands are just really shaky lately," he said quietly, and when jack turned to look at him, there was blood slowly dripping down his arm.

"shit," jack groaned. he took the glass and dumped it in a bag before putting it in the outside bin. "i'll help -"

"i'm ok," anti insisted. he stood up, shaking out his hands. "i can deal with it myself."

"anti, wait," jack protested, and in a moment of desperation, grabbed anti's arm as he tried to bolt away to his room. anti gasped in pain and shoved jack off him, pushing him into the wall.

"fuck off, jay!" anti said angrily. he held his arm close to him - the arm he hadn't hurt with the glass, jack noticed. "seriously, mind your own!"

"anti, are you hurt?" jack frowned. anti stepped back onto the stairs, shaking.

"yeah, i just cut my bloody hand with a piece of fucking glass. you were right there." anti spat. "now i'm gonna go up to my room, if you don't mind."

jack couldn't even protest as anti glitched out of sight. somewhere above him, a door slammed.

oh, but it hurt.

not the cut on his hand. that was barely a scratch. but his body. oh, his body fucking burned. every inch of his body was constantly wracked with pain, like permanent pins and needles throughout his entire being. anti had never hurt like this all at once before.

and it was constant. constant. for nearly three weeks now, he had been like this; barely able to move half the time, his head throbbing and feeling like a thick soup. some days he physically could not move, no matter how much he tried. he wouldn't even be able to speak or cry out for jack, not that he would have even if he could. he became static at random times, his phone and laptop short circuited, he was constantly sick and depressed and so, so angry.

and he'd tried everything to fix it, everything. he'd drank a shitton of alcohol one night, resulting in a seizure that lasted almost a full minute. he'd went out running, thinking maybe the exercise would help, but that had somehow made it worse. he'd even tried causing himself voluntary pain, like that would help the rest of the pain dull, but it did nothing. everything hurt. everything hurt.

he was dying. that was the idea that had planted itself in his brain, and he couldn't shake it out. he was dying and it would only be a matter of time before he couldn't physically form at all, left just a glitching husk of nothingness, and then gone entirely. no one would notice but jack. no one would even notice but jack.

and maybe… his mind drifted to rhudy. rhudy who was so nice to him. rhudy who didn't lie to him or abandon him. anti almost wanted to go see him.

anti was going to die and it was jack's fault.

he's trying to kill you, was the delusion that he had convinced himself was truth. jack wanted him dead so he could spend all his time with chase, so that he could find the doctor and the hero and the magician, the ones who weren't broken and fucked up like anti was. he wanted anti gone. he wanted anti dead.

anti hugged himself and tried not to shake or throw up. he felt so fucking replused with himself, with everything.

he wanted to go see rhudy. he wanted to, but he didn't want jack asking questions, he didn't want to talk to jack at all. feeling sick, he sat up on his bed and let out a shuddering sigh. he wanted to go see rhudy.

maybe he didn't have to tell jack, he suddenly thought. it wasn't like he'd care anyway. as soon as that thought entered his mind, he stood right up, his head rushing from the movement. anti stumbled over to the window, yanking it open despite how his bandaged arms screamed in pain, and swung his legs over the windowsill. he was on the second floor, and it was maybe five meters or so to the ground - not enough to kill him. he pushed off the sill and glitched before hitting the grass, landing safely with a soft thump. for a second he doubled over, nearly screaming from the sudden pain, then straightened and began to jog unsteadily in the direction of the high street.

it was starting to get dark as he reached the store. he could see rhudy standing out the front, smoking a cigarette and scrolling through his phone. even from here, anti could see he had google open and was searching up "ikeas near me." he almost laughed as he walked over, swaying on his feet as his legs burned.

rhudy looked up as he got closer, a grin breaking across his face. "hey, anti, what are you doing here this time of day?" he asked warmly. then his smile faded as he saw the state anti was in. "hey man, you ok?"

anti didn't say a word. he just threw his arms around rhudy's neck, holding on tightly as his legs gave out beneath him.

"anti!" rhudy exclaimed. he helped anti walk over to the shop door, unlocking it with a key from his pocket. "shit, man, what's up?"

anti groaned, clinging to rhudy's shoulder. "you own this store?" he mumbled.

"uh, yeah, i do," he said, pushing the door open and flicking on the lights. "i might have forgot to mention. you're hurting, aren't you? i can't - usually i can figure out reasons, but not now, for some reason."

he helped anti sit down in a chair at the side of the room near a stack of vinyls. anti didn't usually spend a lot of time in the main section of the store, so while rhudy rushed to the back to get him some water, he took a minute to properly look around. the store looked a lot smaller in the busy hours when there were tons of people, but he could now see how big it actually was. everything was in rows and stacks, signs detailing what sections each thing was in hanging from the ceiling. the walls were a light green and windows stretched all the way round them, letting in the soft evening lights and showing off the streets outside. it made anti feel very exposed, and he curled in on himself, hugging his shoulders.

"here," rhudy said, handing him a plastic bottle and sitting down next to him. anti smile gratefully and took several gulps, his hands still trembling so badly he spilled some water down his front.

"are you ok, man?" rhudy asked quietly. "you're shaking, what happened?"

"nothing," anti murmured, attempting to screw the cap back on the bottle. after a moment of watching him struggle, rhudy took it and did it himself, letting out a small laugh as anti's face turned red and he mumbled a thanks under his breath.

"are you sure it was nothing?" rhudy said. he turned his head to look at anti properly, his brown eyes looking more orange in this lighting. "you can tell me if something's wrong, you know."

anti made a small noise. "can we play some music, or - or something?" he asked, staring down at his bouncing legs. his mind was racing, he needed some kind of fucking distraction.

rhudy nodded, jumping to his feet. "what do you want on? any preferences?" he stopped and made fingers guns at the air, hair falling in his face. "wait, don't tell me. you like…" he suddenly giggled. "you like queen?"

despite it all, a grin spread across anti's face. "wow, you can tell just by looking at me?" he joked, and rhudy laughed as he crossed the room, popping out a vinyl of queen's a night at the opera and holding it up for anti to see before putting it in its player. anti smiled even wider, a pang of something hurting in his chest.

the first few notes of bohemian rhapsody began to play, and rhudy danced round back to anti, clicking his fingers and spinning in circles.

"is this the real life?" he sang dramatically, and anti couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous he looked and sounded. "or is this just fantasy? caught in a landslide, no escape from reality…"

he grabbed anti's hand and pulled him to his feet, twirling him round despite his noises of protest. "i'm just a poor boy, i need no sympathy!" he cried, and anti giggled.

"you're a dumbass!" he grinned, and rhudy raised an eyebrow.

"sing with me then, asshole. you can definitely sing." he challenged.

"is that the clairvoyance talking?" anti asked.

rhudy raised his chin. "let's find out!"

he grabbed anti's hand and pulled him close to his chest. "any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me…"

anti joined in at the next part. "...to me!"

the two of them swayed on the spot, giggling like idiots as they tried to sing. and for some reason, anti suddenly didn't care if anyone looked through the window and saw them. he couldn't even feel the pain anymore. all that mattered was this. not jack, not chase. just this. this man, this song, this fucking moment.

he was sure they both looked ridiculous. rhudy was not the greatest singer, and really, neither was anti, but they both knew all the words and that was what mattered. "too late, my time has come," they sang in unison. "sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time…"

anti paused to take a drink, and rhudy continued dancing by himself, leaving a gap and holding his arms out like he was holding a partner. when anti laughed and joined him again, rhudy twirled him round and nearly dropped him. "mama, ooh!" he crooned. "i don't wanna die, sometimes i wish i'd never been born at all!"

rhudy grabbed his guitar from the table behind him and attempted to play it along with the song but it was too fast and he gave up, pretending to play it instead. as the song sped up, so did they, taking turns singing the galileo's and bursting into fits of laughter.

"so you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?" rhudy yelled, pulling anti closer to him and laughing breathlessly.

"so you think you can love me and leave me to die?" anti yelled after him, and at that point they gave up on singing and collapsed to the floor next to a record stand, wheezing and catching their breaths. and fuck, fuck, it was such a warm, joyful feeling, and for a moment anti didn't even feel any pain, just happiness. all he wanted was to feel like this forever. he wished there was a way he could feel like this forever and never have to stop.

rhudy turned to him, and suddenly their faces were very, very close. far too close. anti's smile faded slightly. this was normal, right? this was how normal people found happiness?

maybe he could feel like this forever.

anti had, obviously, never kissed anyone before. doing so felt… odd, to say the least. it didn't feel like much of anything except touching faces with someone else. but this had to be it, the solution to his problems. this had to be what would make him happy. he'd been so happy while they were dancing and talking… this had to be what those feelings were. it had to be.

and maybe it did feel nice to be so close to another person, and that was what mattered.

he moved his head back to take a breath. rhudy opened his eyes wide, blinking. this close, anti could see pale freckles dotted across rhudy's nose.

"oh," rhudy said softly.

"shit," anti said just as softly.

he kissed him again and it felt wrong and right and it distracted him from the pain and anti never wanted to stop.

the song had ended. the room was getting very dark, as the lights had long ago flickered out. he let out a breath, almost too overwhelmed to speak.

"i - i should close up," rhudy murmured against anti's mouth.

"do that," anti said. "i - i don't really have anywhere to go tonight."

that was a lie.

"you can stay at mine," rhudy said. "if you want."

anti still had time to back out.

"i do want."

the next afternoon, jack was getting ready to go out again.

he wasn't really surprised that anti had gone out. he was more surprised that he had snuck out the window. had he wanted to avoid jack that badly? actually, maybe he wasn't surprised. jack sighed as he attempted to fix his hair in the mirror despite how it kept standing straight up at the ends. whatever. it wasn't like he cared at this point.

chase texted him to let him know he and henrik were inside the mcdonalds. it was crowded, and two little kids slammed into jack's legs as they ran out. frowning, he tried to scan the crowd to see his friend through all the people. he'd said he'd gotten a table, so maybe - ah, there he was, up against the wall and waving cheerily at him despite his clearly tear splotched face, and there was someone with him, someone…

jack stopped walking right in the middle of all the people and didn't breathe.

"jack!" chase called, standing up and beckoning him over. jack almost couldn't move. the man next to chase looked confused as well, tapping his arm rapidly and saying something jack couldn't hear. he slowly walked over to their table, his legs feeling like jelly.

"jack, meet henrik!" chase beamed, gesturing towards the other man. the man who, like chase, like anti… looked exactly like himself.

"hey," jack murmured, sitting down tentatively across from the other two. henrik nodded, mouth hanging open slightly in shock.

"henrik, this is jack," chase said, twirling his hand around. they both bobbed their heads up and down, staring at each other.

"it is… nice to meet you?" henrik said uncertainly, and jack jolted at his german accent. holy shit, it was him. it was him. henrik stretched his hand across the table for jack to shake, and he took it. "henrik von schneeplestein, if you please."

"jack… mcloughlin," he said, forcing a smile. then he turned to chase. "chase, can i talk to you for a second?"

chase frowned. "uh, yeah, sure," he said, and jack stood and walked over to the other side of the room, grabbing chase's arm as he followed him.

"dude, what the fuck? we've left henrik alone over there!" chase hissed.

"chase, i - where did you find this guy? how do you know him?" jack asked.

chase yawned, scrubbing at his face. "met him at a bar, his wife has just kicked him out too. we bonded over it, apparently." he laughed. "we didn't recognize that we had the same face until later."

jack glanced over at the man, who was awkwardly scrolling through his phone at the table. his mind literally could not wrap around it.

"he's a practicing doctor," chase said, snapping him from his thoughts. "studying at the local university. is this guy… is this guy the doctor you told me about? the one you made to help aiden?"

"i think so," jack said. "this is - this is fucking weird." he turned to chase. "did you tell him?"

"what, that everything he knows is fake and he's not even real?" chase snorted, fixing the brim of his cap. "no, i didn't. i barely believe it myself, i'm still convinced this is a very elaborate prank. i'm only going along with this because it'll get a lot of views on my channel if we can make this funny enough."

jack rolled his eyes and began to go back to the table. "sure, whatever."

henrik smiled as they sat back down. "everything ok?" he asked, tapping his fingers on the table. as he looked at the two of them, jack noticed a few slight differences between himself and henrik and chase. henrik's hair was flatter with a small streak of grey, and his eyes were a much lighter blue. chase looked almost younger than jack, and there were a few freckles splattered across his face that jack was sure hadn't been there the last time he'd seen him. it was so surreal, knowing he had somehow brought them into existence. that if anti's theory was correct, they were pieces of his soul. the thought made him feel almost sick.

"yeah, it's fine," jack said. "do you guys, uh, wanna get food?"

"i would," henrik nodded. "then maybe we can talk about why you are my exact copy and chase did not think to tell me this."

this ceiling wasn't his. these walls weren't his. this room wasn't his.

anti blinked at the lights streaming through the windows for almost thirty seconds before he remembered.

shit. oh shit, oh shit, please say he hadn't done what he thought he had. he sat straight up, panic coursing through him, and - nope, this wasn't his bed. he was shirtless, and rhudy was laying beside him, asleep.

ok. ok. this was fine, anti reassured himself, fumbling for his clothes. this was fine. rhudy stirred slightly, making a small sound in his throat. anti felt sick.

because it wasn't fine. nothing was fine anymore. he fucking hated this, he hated it and he wasn't supposed to. he had been so happy last night - why hadn't this fixed him? why had he been having a good time until he kissed rhudy, why had he convinced himself this was what would help him? jesus fuck, anti was going to be sick. he was going to be sick.

he was going to have to kill him.

that was the only thought in his panic stricken brain. kill rhudy and get the fuck out of there, go back to jack, maybe kill him too if he still felt like it. anti frantically began getting dressed, looking for his knife in his hoodie pocket. it was still there, thankfully. he unfolded it grimly, tapping it against his hand as he breathed heavily, trying not to scream. bile rose in his throat as he looked down at the other man, thinking about slitting his throat.

he'd done it before. why couldn't he do it now, why was he suddenly scared? why had he formed an emotional attachment? he grabbed at his hair, his knife dangerously close to his face. this was fucking pathetic. he took several deep breaths, and lowered the knife to where rhudy was laying. right next to his throat.

why couldn't he do it? what the fuck was wrong with him?

he didn't have time to think about it, because rhudy's was awake and he was staring at anti, eyes wide, almost not daring to move.

"anti?" he said, shocked. "what are you -"

anti yelped and leaped off the bed, stumbling back into the wall as rhudy sat up, holding both hands up next to his head. "hey, hey!" he cried, and he looked terrified, and anti held up the knife in front of him, warning him not to move.

"d-d-don't -" anti stammered, but suddenly his voice wouldn't cooperate and neither would his body. he glitched wildly, yanking his hair and crying out through the pain ripping through him, almost collapsing from the agony that had come out of nowhere. after he'd collected himself, he managed to glance up, still holding onto his head. rhudy was just… looking. just looking. horrified. anti stared back, far too aware for how disgusting he looked, half formed and probably insane. this had been a mistake. this had always been a fucking mistake.

he glitched away and rhudy didn't move to stop him.

his face burned.

it wasn't just from the humiliation of what had just happened, either. it felt like an actual, genuine burn, like someone was dragging a lighter down his cheek. as he quickly darted down the streets, getting as far away from rhudy's place as possible, he swiped at his face with his sleeve, trying to figure out what it was. something wet - blood, he assumed, but his sleeve wasn't stained when he pulled away, and when he touched his face with his hand it came away clear, like water, like -

oh, oh. like tears. anti was crying.

he had never cried before. never. he gasped and scrubbed at his skin fiercely, ignoring the pain. why did it burn? jack had cried before, he never told him it burned so bad, oh, it hurt. he gritted his teeth and pushed through it. fuck, he couldn't go home in this state.

he decided to just go get food at the mcdonalds near the park. might as well. it was pretty crowded, which anti was fine with; no one would notice him in a crowd. no one, except… his mouth dropped open when he saw. surely not. surely not here.

chase, sitting at a table across the room, saw him first. he tapped jack's arm, and he turned around to see him, along with the other man who was next to him. three of them. last anti had checked, that was one too many. the other man wasn't the hero, wasn't the magician… he must have been the doctor, finally found. anti looked away from them, too overwhelmed with everything to even care.

once he'd ordered and calmed himself down, he casually wandered over to their table, slamming both hands down on the surface and grinning wickedly. "hey there, assholes," he said, delighting in how chase and the doctor jumped at his sudden movement. jack just sighed. anti tilted his head at the man next to chase. "doctor schneeplestein, i presume?"

"how do you -" the man started, and anti just laughed. he was fucking furious all of a sudden, and just this man's presence was making it worse. "who are you?"

anti pulled his signature move of turning his eyes black, smirking. "is it cliche to say your worst nightmare?"

"anti," jack interrupted, about to stand, but anti pushed him down again forcefully. that didn't stop him from trying, though, and he struggled against anti's hand. "stop this, man, please."

anti was about to say something else, probably a snappy comeback or something, when jack's brow furrowed and he looked concerned. "anti, what happened to your face?"

anti snorted. "what do you mean?"

jack shrugged anti off and stood, too close to anti's face. "man, there's a big - it looks like a long, thin, burn mark, anti, what did you do?"

"i didn't do anything!" he protested, but then jack held up his phone on the front camera and - oh. he did have a long, thin burn mark on his cheek, trailing down from his right eye. oh, shit.

anti took several steps back, not wanting to look. he glared at the three man, frantically trying to think of something else to say that would put him back in control.

"order 107!" called a woman behind the counter, and anti glanced at his receipt. that was him. as he went up to collect his order, jack scrambled over to talk to him.

"anti, anti," he said breathlessly. "fuck, are you alright? where did you, uh, go last night?"

anti laughed without humour. "you wouldn't believe me if i told you."

jack made a noise of resignation and shook his head. "ok, sure, be vague about it. listen, i'm… i'm going to talk more with chase and henrik, ok? i -"

"ooh, the doc has a first name?" anti said in a mocking tone. jack threw up his hands.

"jesus shit, anti, listen to me for once! they're going to be round at the house sometimes, and you're going to have to just deal with it, ok? i'm allowed to have other friends apart from you. and these guys… well, you know what the situation is with them. i just… i have to learn more about what i can do, i guess. and i want you to be with me." he tapped anti's shoulder gently, his expression softening. "you're my best friend, dude. you got that? i'm not going to replace you."

but he already was, and he didn't even realize it. anti was dying, and jack didn't know. would he care if anti told him?

jack bit his lip, obviously concerned about anti's lack of a response. "you wanna come sit with us?"

did he? not really. but there was a small part of him that thought, maybe… he should. he should go sit with them and apologize for being an asshole. he should talk with them and find out more about their lives. he should let jack slowly explain everything to them and become friends and tell jack how badly he was hurting and then he'd fix him. wouldn't he? he could just do that. anti was so close to just giving in and letting himself do that.

but once glance at the doctor and the father at the table, looking over at them with confused and worried expressions, was all that anti needed to confirm what he wanted to do.

"no, i don't." anti said firmly. and with that, he turned and left, taking his food and not once looking back.

true to jack's word, chase and henrik were round at the house several times in the next three days.

at this point, anti couldn't tell if anyone had told henrik about the whole being-created-by-jack thing, and he didn't care to find out. henrik and chase tried not to be pushy or in his way, which he was slightly grateful for, but just their presence in the house annoyed him. he ended up staying in his room all the time, watching stuff on netflix and hacking phone lines when he got bored. he could often hear talking through his door and would sometimes just sit and listen. it made his chest hurt to hear jack so happy when he was so fucking miserable.

one day he bumped into chase when he left his room to get some food from the kitchen.

"shit, sorry," chase said, holding up a hand apologetically. anti just glared at him until he backed off, grinning awkwardly. "uh, you alright, dude?"

anti was getting pretty sick of people asking if he was ok. "the fuck do you think?" he snarled, taking a step forward. chase flattened himself against the wall, hands in a pose of surrender.

"fuck, man, relax," he said, laughing nervously. "i'll get out of your way."

"you fucking better," anti spat, revelling in the fear in chase's eyes. "or i'll tear your goddamn throat out with my teeth."

chase nodded frantically. "ok, ok, cool, i got it," he babbled, eyes darting back and forth down the hall. anti laughed at how pathetic he looked. he knew he should back away and go back to his room. but suddenly, this just wasn't enough.

"you know, you fucking disgust me!" anti said cheerfully, and chase paled. "i honestly do not know why jack puts up with you. you're so… boring, you know?" he yawned exaggeratedly. "boring, and just plain depressing. you get me? you're genuinely such a misery to be around." he laughed, and chase made a terrified squeak that was like music to anti's ears.

he stepped back, giving chase the room to move even though he chose not to do so, still plastered against the wall. a grin cut through anti's face.

"you don't have many friends, do you, jinx hat?" anti said, still smiling. chase's hand touched his head self consciously. "i wouldn't imagine you did. not many people would miss someone so boring, would they?"

he bounced back to his room, leaving chase alone in the hallway.

"anti."

he sighed loudly upon hearing jack's voice, and didn't get up from his bed. "that's me."

he heard jack tap the door gently. "i, uh, have a surprise for you."

anti raised an eyebrow despite jack not being able to see. "yeah? and what's that?"

"come and see!" jack said, excitement in his voice. "i think you're definitely gonna like this."

anti entertained the idea of ignoring him and going back to sleep. but he was, admittedly, slightly curious, and he was all prepared to be angry if it was a terrible surprise. jack grinned when anti opened the door, clapping his hands together once. "yes! come on, come to my recording room."

"are jinx and the doc here?" he asked suspiciously as they walked across the hall.

"nope! and you know, they have names." jack pushed open his recording room door, gesturing towards his computer. "go and see!"

anti stepped in, glancing around, but he couldn't see anything out of place. the only unusual thing was that jack's computer was on and loaded up to a game. anti frowned and stepped closer, staring at the screen.

"yeah, so you got the new five night's game. so what?" anti said, turning round confusedly. jack grinned.

"you know how when i was sick and you recorded that one video for me?" he said, spreading out his hands. "well… here's a series of your very own! happy early birthday!"

anti couldn't breathe for a second.

"you're… you're letting me…" he swallowed, suddenly feeling very small. "you're gonna let me play it… as you?"

jack laughed and looked down at the floor, rubbing his neck. "yeah, i am," he said. "i've been planning it basically since i heard it was coming out. i figured it'd be fun for you."

anti's breath hitched as he tried to gather words. "i - i, um… thank you, holy shit." he blinked rapidly. "fuck, i… after i've been such an asshole?"

"you're not an asshole," jack said quietly. "i - i've been a dick too, ok? and i feel like this is a… well, a good start."

anti turned back to the computer and watched the loading screen glitch. it was weird to think that he wasn't the one causing it.

"it came out yesterday, but i could only get it now," he heard jack say. he came to stand beside anti, putting a hand on his shoulder. "what do you think?"

anti ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think of how to respond. "i'd love to play it," he murmured. "fuck, thank you."

jack hesitated, then pulled him in for a hug. anti nearly burst into tears then and there, too scared to speak or move in case he did. he let jack hold him for a moment, then slowly wrapped his arms around his friend, resting his face against his shoulder.

"i'm sorry," jack whispered.

a pause.

"me too," anti whispered back.

the game took about two and a half hours to complete. it was strangely terrifying, knowing that people were going to see this, to see him. but he tried his best to keep it cool. at several point he almost had to stop from how much pain his body was in, but he was sure it was fine. he filmed four episodes in all, changing shirts between each one so it wouldn't seem like he'd played the whole game in one day; which, now he thought about it, wouldn't have been that weird for jack. once he'd finished, he considered watching it back to see if he'd made any obvious mistakes in his imitation of jack, but there wouldn't be much he could do to change it now, so he didn't really care that much. he decided to take the liberty of sending the videos to robin himself and then went out to see jack, feeling happier than he had in a long time.

jack was in the kitchen, making popcorn. anti stood at the door for a minute, listening to the popping sounds, before jack noticed him and broke out in a grin. "hey! how was it, did you finish?"

he nodded, suddenly almost shy, looking down at the chair legs. "i sent the videos to robin," he said. "and, uh… thanks again."

"no problem, dude, i'm glad you liked it." the microwave beeped and jack took the bowl out, yelping at how hot it was. "ouch, fucking burning bastard. do you wanna watch a movie or something?"

anti gave a small nod. "if you want. any ideas?"

jack moved past him into the living room, eating the popcorn dry. "well, this movie came out on netflix today. the siege of jadotville. it's irish."

anti snorted. "just the name alone is putting me to sleep."

"did i mention it's irish?"

"irish, smirish, it sounds crap!"

the two of them laughed, and anti felt warm again.

the movie was boring, as anti had predicted. he barely stayed awake long enough to get half an hour in before drifting off on the arm of the couch, jack gently playing with his hair. when he woke, it was late afternoon, jack was gone, and a blanket had been draped over him. he sighed warmly, not wanting to move.

"aid - anti? you up?"

he glanced up to see jack coming into the room, looking worried. anti pushed himself to his elbows, yawning. "i am. what's the problem?"

jack raised his arms behind his head, blowing all the air out his cheeks. anti immediately recognized something was wrong and sat up fully, throwing the blanket off him. "jay? what is it? come on, man, spit it out."

jack took a deep breath and folded his hands. "you know how you sent the videos to robin?"

a thick feeling of dread rose up in anti's chest. "yeah?" he said quietly, almost afraid to hear.

jack hesitated before continuing. "the, uh, files got corrupted," he mumbled. "glitches everywhere. it's… unusable, i think. i'm sorry."

neither one of them said anything for a long moment.

"post it anyway," anti said eventually.

jack sighed and sat down next to him on the couch. "dude, i can't. the facecam footage looks terrible, it's always staticy and glitchy, and you can't even be heard at some points -"

"then edit that out!" anti yelled, leaping to his feet. jack got up again right after. "edit that out and post it, it's fine, you let me film that, jack! i've waited years for you to let me appear on the channel!"

jack flinched back, shaking his head. "anti -"

"no!" he screamed, grabbing at his hair. "no, no, that's not fair, it's not my fault!"

"i thought you had your glitching under control?" jack said worriedly, holding out his hands to try and calm anti down.

"i did, i did, i have for years!" the sound of static got even louder, and anti could feel himself slowly losing control again. "it's your fault, it's your fucking fault, it's your fault that i'm dying!"

jack just watched helplessly as anti screamed, clawing at himself and glitching so wildly he couldn't stay together. "anti, i -"

"i've tried everything!" he wailed, his whole body searing with pain as he tried to piece himself back. "i tried drinking, i tried exercising, i tried burning myself, i tried - fuck, i even tried sleeping with my only other friend, nothing works and it's your bloody fault!"

"anti!" jack cried, alarmed. "i -"

someone knocked at the door.

anti whipped round, eyes blazing. "and who's that?"

"well, uh, i think it's chase and henrik - we - we were gonna go out for a bit - anti, wait -"

"oh, come in!" anti called, in a perfect imitation of jack's voice. "door's open!"

the door opened, and anti could hear the two other men chattering as they came inside. jack visibly swallowed. "anti," he said, very softly. "anti, stop."

"jack!" anti heard henrik call in that fucking german accent. "where are we going, i have -"

they stopped dead in the door when they saw what was going on. "is… is this a bad time?" henrik asked tentatively.

"oh no, you're just in time!" anti said, almost hysterically. he grinned, his body stabilizing for just a second. "just in time!"

another glitch ran through him, and he doubled over from the pain. chase and henrik turned to leave, but anti suddenly appeared in front of them, blocking their path. "oh, don't leave so soon!" he cried. "you'll miss all the fun!"

"anti, aiden, please stop!" jack sobbed, trying to grab anti's arm. he pushed him away, almost too forcefully, and jack slammed into the table behind him. "shit, stop it!"

but anti's attention was on chase now. chase, who was holding henrik's hand and backing towards the door, shaking. "w-why are you doing this?" chase stammered. "please, dude, we never meant to hurt you!"

anti laughed without mirth, his hand on his pocket. "a bit late for that, jinx!"

he made a sudden move, grabbing chase's neck in a burning rage and throwing him back into the wall. one of chase's legs shot to and kicked anti's knee, and he stumbled back, henrik attempting to help chase up so they could get out. anti straightened and lunged for henrik this time, wanting to kill him, to kill him, to -

and jack was yanking him back by his hood and trying to get him off -

and anti whirled round and lashed out -

and jack fell, and anti had a knife in his hands, when did he get a knife in his hands -

and jack was on the ground and anti had a knife pressed to his throat.

there was dead, dead silence.

"aiden?" jack said softly.

aiden could see the terror in his eyes.

then someone was pulling him off of him, shoving him to the floor. anti gasped, crying out as the contact sent shocks through his body. henrik, the doctor, standing in front of jack, holding - anti's knife was gone, slipped from his hands. henrik held it, looking so tired yet so fierce. in that moment, anti had to admit he was impressed by how unwavering he was.

"stop this." henrik said. he very deliberately closed the knife and tossed it behind him, where chase was slumped against the wall.

anti got the message and left.

three hours later he was on the ground in an alleyway with blood on his hands.

how many people he'd killed, he'd lost track of. so much blood on his hands. he stared at them, shaking so badly it hurt, the uneven ground wet from the earlier rain. he hugged himself, his vision blurring, tasting blood in his mouth.

he could never go home now. never. not after what he'd done, not after the way they'd looked at him.

and with that sudden stabbing realization, the tears that were threatening on the ends of anti's lashes finally fell. and unlike last time, he couldn't do anything to stop them. a great sob tore from his throat and he almost screamed as the water burned his cheeks, his shoulders shaking with pain and the force of his crying. his chest tightened and he could barely breathe. he curled into himself as he sobbed, almost hyperventilating, like a panic attack he couldn't come down from. he'd never felt this kind of distress before - usually his negative feelings manifested in the form of anger, but now it was everything. sadness, rage, fear, grief, all combined into one meltdown.

he buried his face in his knees and didn't move for several hours. when he finally did, his face stung in the places his tears had rolled down. all the nearby streetlamps had gone out and he was left in darkness. as usual.

he was standing just outside the doors to the corner shop, staring into the distance with his hands in his pockets.

jack almost turned and left. almost. but he had to face this eventually, even if his neck still ached with bruises and stung from the small cut anti had given him. he would have to talk to him at some point.

anti turned as he got closer. he must have known jack was there. his expression was completely blank, though jack couldn't help but blach at anti's face as he grew nearer.

"what happened to your face?" were the first words out of his mouth as he got right next to anti. his face was red and blotchy, like he'd been crying, and there were reddish looking scars down his face liked he'd been burned. anti scowled, glancing away and not answering.

they stood in silence for a little while, both wondering what to say. then jack spoke again. "this is it, isn't it." he let out a shuddering breath. "for us."

"i don't know," anti said flatly. "i would believe so."

jack blinked rapidly, swallowing hard and clenching his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palm. "ok."

another pause. the wind blew through their hair, and jack noted how different he and anti really did look, in the end. maybe they had always been like this and jack had never noticed.

"you're not going to post the videos i made." anti said. "you're going to film something entirely different and try to forget i ever existed."

"no," jack said, even though that was almost entirely true.

"i'm not stupid, jack." anti said. "and i hope you know i won't make it easy for you."

jack's breath hitched, and a tear fell from his eye. "i know. you wouldn't be aiden mcloughlin if you did."

"you're not understanding me," anti said, turning his head away slightly. "not that you ever have."

jack closed his eyes. "i wish i could have. i'm sorry."

"no you're not."

"i am, of course i am. i love you."

he opened his eyes to see that anti had vanished.

he said it anyway.

"happy birthday."

#jacksepticeye #boop writes #antisepticeye #chase brody #henrik von schneeplestein #arc zero: cruthú #rhudy o'donnell

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regdaran · 4 years

Text

The Day Hell Came to Earth. Chapter one: The Shift.

Chapters: | 1 | |

Carth had always thought Joan was the laziest of the group, But skipping out on the first day of the new semester was an entirely new level of slacker. The bus pulled into place along the sidewalk. The three of them all boarded and waved their student passes at the driver. Of course Dominic and Hiela had to come along with him. The second he asked Hiela to take extra notes for class, she had grown suspicious. Hiela then in turn asked Dominic to take extra notes for their shared classes, this brought him into the ever continuing domino line. All of which led here, to the three of them trying to find Joan through his cell signal, finding he had boarded a bus at 6:30 in the damn morning, and then the three of them boarding a bus at 8:00 going the same direction.

"And you're sure that he's still right there?" Dominic poked at Hiela's phone, the display flickering and cutting in and out.

"HEY! Watch what your doing! Ah! What did you do to my phone? Did you break it?" Hiela was shaking her phone, despite knowing full well that wouldn't stabilize the screen.

"It's not just yours, mines on the fritz too." Carth picked up his phone and showed the static that was displayed on the screen. All of their phones had been acting strangely for the last few days. According to the message boards on campus, it was caused by some error in the last big software update.

"To answer your question Dominic, I'm not sure. All I know is thats where his phone was the last two times I pinged it." Hiela was a savant when it came to tech but with their phones problems effectively running interference, she was limited in what she could do. Honestly Carth was amazed that her phone was working at all.

"What is he even doing at a construction site?" asked Dominic as he adjusted his coat so he could sit down. The thing was a tall as he was, with so many pockets inside he could hold half his room in there. "I don't know." Replied Hiela as she straightened her back pack. They weren't going to make it to class today, why in the world did she bring it? "Did he get a job or something? Why didn't he tell us?" Dominic kept asking question after question. All of which were answered by "I don't know." or "Why don't you ask HIM that when we get there?" Carth could feel the rising irritation from the small woman next to him. He decided to intervene before Hiela killed Dominic. "Let's just focus on what we know for sure. We know he asked me to take note for him yesterday, so he had to have planned this. Aside from that, what do we know?" Carth looked around at his friends, he really hoped that they weren't as clueless as he was. "I heard..." Dominic said. "That place is haunted. Actually, I think Joan is the one who told me about it." Now that was lead. "He kept sayin somethin' about demons, or maybe it was monsters. Ya know, urban legends and stuff." Both Carth and Hiela let out a pair of long, suffering sighs. All three of them had dealt with Joan's little obsession before. "What kind of fun does he find in chasing down these rumors anyway?"

The bus bounced as it hit something. There was a 'pop' and the driver was having to work hard to make sure that bus didn't tip over. The sound of metal scraping on asphalt was deafening. "HOLD ON!" the driver yelled as the bus went into the sidewalk. The sound of rending metal and splintering plastics could be heard as it ground into the concrete next to the road. The bus ever so slowly came to a stop halfway off the road. "Shit! Is everyone okay?" Dominic helped Carth get back to his feet. "What did we hit? A bear trap?" Hiela dusted herself off and stepped out of the bus. "There she goes again. Come on Dominic." The pair of friends followed Hiela out of the beached wreck that was once a bus. "Oh God!" What they saw was horrific, a red smear led from the bus to a lump of meat and bones. It was about the size of large dog and it was covered in bony protrusions. Carth was walking over to it before he knew what was going on.

"I-Is it dead?" he heard Dominic ask.

"I don't know, but I plan to find out. Hiela, call animal control. If this thi-" Carth didn't finish his sentence for one very important reason. The thing that they hit had started to move. It got up and started to limp toward the bus. It looked even worse moving, like the love child of the chupacabra and a hyena. It was covered in a wrinkly mottled red hide. It was also almost completely bald, except for a stripe of brown fur down the middle of its head. That same head had twin horns pointing Carth. It's eyes fixed on him, and it started charging. "Oh CRAP!" Halfway through it's charge. Its front legs gave out and it crashed into the ground in front of him. Dominic and Hiela came running beside Carth. Dominic reached into his coat and pulled out a knife of all things. The blade was nearly half a foot long, and one edge was serrated. Just as the thing was getting up again, there was a loud BANG, and its head caved in as the bullet passed through it. Everyone looked behind them to see the bus driver, still holding a handgun. "What? It was obviously rabid, just don't tell the cops that I had this thing alright. I'm getting out of here. They don't pay me enough to deal with crazy animals." With that the driver and the few other people who were in the bus all walked toward the small building that served as a bus stop.

"What the hell is this thing?" Carth was crouched next to the dog like thing. "I don't know, but man is it nasty." Dominic was poking at its side with his knife. "Are we going to talk about the fact you pulled out a weapon from your coat?" Hiela was about 5 feet away from the pair of idiots who were messing with the monstrous thing. "Do you mean to tell me, that in that massive bag you take everywhere, you don't carry anything to defend yourself with?" Dominic sounded absolutely confused. "Well, I have pepper spray." Hiela said indignantly. Both Carth and Dominic looked at her in a way that said 'really?'. "Carth isn't carrying anything!" In response Carth reached into his boots and pulled out a pair of 3 inch blades. "You were saying?" Hiela looked away out of embarrassment, she saw the people from the buss sitting down at the stop. "We should probably go, having to wait around for hours answering the police wouldn't be the most productive use of out time." That was something Carth definitely agreed with. "Hiela, how far away are we from Joan?" This time she was the one giving a look. "Wha- Oh. You can't be- Fine!" Carth couldn't believe she was being a stickler on this! "How far are we from his phone?" Hiela pulled out her phone and started swiping through one of the apps she had on it. "According to this ping, we are about a mile away... guess we should start walking..."

20 minutes and a lot of complaining from Dominic later, they arrived at the construction site. A concrete building, nearly four stories high, loomed before the group. There was trash all over the place as they entered. Old bottles of every shape, size, and color, were strewn about. Some had been smashed and sharp glass littered the floor in many places. There were signs that people had been living here, bed rolls and cardboard boxes were gathered in various corners on the first floor. Despite the lack of work done on the inside, the building was nearly finished. Though, the work of years had given the place a worn down feeling. "Hey Carth, why was this place abandoned again? It looks like solid construction, hell it's better than half the stuff on campus." Carth set down the red stained cloth he had picked up. "I don't know, but I heard it was something about public outrage at where it was being built. I think the city council tore down a church or something to build this place." Hiela rummaged through her backpack and pulled out a flashlight. Shining it at the two of them, she said. "Are you guys going to spout trivia all day, or are we going to find Joan? Come on, my phone says his phone is up." With that she made for the stair well. When she opened the door, she was greeted by pile of bones high enough to mostly block the stairs. There where femers, tibia, hips, and skulls. All of which Carth recognised from his Anatomy classes. They were all human bones. There was a long silence before "Jesus Christ!" came out of Dominic, who then singed the holy cross on his body. "Nope." Hiela closed the door, turned around, and started for the fire escape that sat on the out side of the building. "Nope. Nu uh. Not today." She climbed out the broken window next to the stairwell and then reached for the chain that connected to the pull ladder. Carth and Dominic joined her shortly, "Having a bit of trouble there shortstop?" Hiela hatted being reminded of her height, or lack there of, And both Carth and Dominic knew it. The attempt at a joke seemed to highlight the horror of what they had just seen, instead of distracting from it. Then Dominic, in all his 6 feet of glory, pulled the chain and ladder down with one hand.

The three of them were climbing the ladders and stairs that comprised the fire escape when they heard a blood curdling scream. Suddenly the whole building shook as an earthquake hit the area. A blast of lightning hit the roof of the building just as they were reaching the top of the final ladder. When any of them could see again, what they saw would stick with them for the rest of their lives. There was tear in the air, light was bending around the edge of it and a red barren landscape could be seen through it. They also saw Joan, holding a long bone dagger. Said dagger was also sticking out of the skull of someone belt over an object on the other side of the roof.

"What the HELL IS GOING ON!" Yelled Dominic once again.

Joan turned around. "Oh crap! I can explain later. Right now I need your help killing this guy."

#original fiction #Heaven #Hell #Original Characters

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 6 years

Text

Missing Her

Dean x Reader

A/N: This stemmed from a request by @adoptdontshoppets ... “I love the song “Missing You” by John Waite. It seems fitting for Dean and the one who got away (or he pushed away). No rush or obligation. Write it if it speaks to you” and the few gifs used within the fic. (GIFS are not mine, credit to owners).

Summary: Dean is on the verge of going to Hell, and Sam is reaching out to an old friend who he thinks holds the key (and secret) that could change Dean’s future.

Warnings: Smut, language, canon-divergence, angst, NSFW, 18+

Words: 8K

SPN Tags: @sorenmarie87 // @wings-of-a-raven // @kazosa // @lefthologramdeer // @grace-for-sale // @rockyhorrorpictureshowstyle // @geeksareunique // @moonchild-shoshanna // @tiquismiquis // @mrsbarnes-rogers // @yorkeylover// @fictionalabyss // @gettinjoyful // @teller258316 // @spnhollis // @sweet-things-4-life // @hobby27 // @sweetlythoughtfulbird // @theoriginalvicki // @dreamchester67 // @xxwarhawk // @babykalika2001 // @negans-wife // @superwhovianfangirl81 // @toobusynerdfighting // @vickyfarley // @missihart23 // @letsby // @hyphymanatee // @ravenangel33 // @thewinchesterchronicles // @wayward-gypsy // @closetspngirl // @fatestemptress // @rebelminxy // @22sarah08 // @witch-of-letters // @cole-winchester // @rainflowermoon // @adoptdontshoppets // @foreverwayward // @waywardvalkyrie

The phone started ringing for the third time that night. It wasn’t a number you recognized, and they didn’t leave a message which was an instant red flag. The biggest red flag, however, was that it wasn’t the burner phone that Ellen gave you. That was the only one that would ring this time of night, which meant it couldn’t be an emergency.

It finally stopped after about seven rings, but when it immediately started up again, you got angry. Who the hell would be calling you in the middle of the night, and on the landline no less.

You grabbed the receiver and took a breath before barking into it. “What?!”

Silence.

“Listen, fuckface, if you call here aga—”

“Y/N,” he said, and your heart stopped. That voice was familiar, and not the kind that whips up a nice dose of nostalgia. This was the kind of familiar that makes ice run through your veins and elicits a frenzy of fear of what it could mean.

It couldn’t be.

“Y/N? Its Sam. Sam Winchester.”

Holy shit. Why… why now? It had been years since you last heard his voice. He knew not to call, he promised he wouldn’t. He promised he would leave you be…

“Sam…” you didn’t know what else you could say. Sitting up in your bed, you leaned over and clicked on the lamp. “What, uh, what do you want?”

“It’s Dean. He’s in trouble and… I don’t—” he paused. You could feel the desperation and weight of his sigh through the receiver, “I wanna tell him. I want YOU to tell him. Maybe… maybe this will be the thing that saves him.”

Your heart stopped and climbed up into your throat. The lump that it formed there felt permanent and you began to panic.

“Tell him? Why? What good would that serve, Sam? No. I can’t—I won’t.”

You slammed down the receiver and exhaled a rush of breath. How fucking dare, he? Fucking Winchesters… running your hands nervously through your hair, you kicked off the covers and began pacing the room, fingers still apprehensively pulling at the tendrils around your face. They always seemed to pop up just when your life was good. Then, bam! Tears and broken hearts. The last time you talked to one of them, it hadn’t ended well, so you assumed this would, too.

“Dean’s in trouble… how the HELL is that my problem? I did what I was asked... played my part, why is Sam calling me now?”

You continued mumbling to yourself, going over the history you shared with the Winchesters. Those damn men, all three of them had turned your life upside down at one point. You missed Dean, though. You didn’t want to send him away, but you had to. Guilt ate at you every day for what you had done, but it was necessary… wasn’t it?

Dean… God I miss him… you thought to yourself, like you did more often than not.

You sighed and fell back onto the bed, and rested your head against the headboard. Your hand absently went to the empty side of your bed and mindlessly rubbed at the spot where he could have been—SHOULD have been, had John not interfered. You shook your head to rid yourself of John’s face and the way it looked that night he stood on the steps outside your front door. Pitch black around him, except for the yellowed porch light that illuminated his deeply-rigid scowl. Your stomach was swimming in rough seas, the nausea was intense, and John’s demands had only made it worse.

A brief flashback to happier times entrenched itself in your mind. It was a different house, a different bed, but Dean was there. He had been young, charming as hell and beautiful. The stranger with the green eyes who bore the eyes of an angel and the smile of the devil had somehow wormed his way into your bed and then stayed for a while.

It was the longest you’d ever spent with anyone; same for him, so he said. Sex, late night talks, and midnight drives just for tacos while Zeppelin blared through the speakers… it all came back. You squeezed your eyes tighter when your memory saw him sitting behind the wheel of your old Camaro; smiling as he sang along with radio and sliding his hand up your thigh. You had never been more in love than you were then.

It was supposed to be a fling; one that you didn’t think would mean much. Certainly, you never thought it would change your life the way it had. Your heart ached for that time back. Your logically thinking brain was angry at you for even giving Dean Winchester a second thought, but if you were going to be honest, he was always sort of there, wasn’t he?

The phone began ringing again, and when you picked up the receiver, you didn’t bother with the greeting.

“Y/N… please. I know it has been a long time and I have no right to ask… but my brother, he—he’s gonna die. And—”

“Wait, what? Sam. What the hell is going on? Is he sick? Or is this… a Winchester thing? If so, what in the world do you think I can do to fix it?”

“He’s not sick and I don’t know if you can do anything. I do know that I have exhausted every possibility, and nothing has worked. You’re my last resort and his time is running out.”

“What did he do?”

“He sold his soul to save me.”

“Jesus,” you lamented and rubbed at your eyes. “How long does he have?”

“A month. We’ve tried everything, but its like, he doesn’t care if he dies. He’s stopped trying. I can’t lose him, Y/N. I thought maybe, if he knew the truth, he’d fight harder.”

“Sam,” you started, then paused. “I don’t…” you sighed and resigned yourself to the fact that if you didn’t try, you’d regret it, along with everything else, for the rest of your life. “Where are you guys?”

“Right now, South Dakota. But we could be there—”

“No. No, you can’t come here. Not yet. Meet halfway, that’s what I can offer you right now.”

“Really? Yes, that would be great,” he cut off quickly and you could hear the rustling of fabric then silence for a good minute before he came back on the line.

“He doesn’t know you called, does he?”

“No. He’d be pissed.”

“What about your father? What does he say about all this?”

“He’s dead,” he replied flatly.

You sat up straighter in the bed at the genuine shock of what Sam just said. “John’s dead?”

“Yeah, about two years now. But, look, I know there’s a messed-up history here, and you tend to get the crap end of this deal, but if you’re really willing to meet up—”

“I am. Give me a day, I need to take care of a few things. Take down this number, you can get me on there tomorrow and we can pick a place.”

“Y/N, thank you. Um, how… how is…?”

“She’s fine, Sam. Now, get a pen and write this down.”

You gave Sam your cell number and he thanked you for agreeing to come. You hung up quickly after that, not wanting to give him more time to ask more questions about things you didn’t want to talk about.

Once you hung up, you let your body slide back down so your head was on the pillow. Seeing Dean again wasn’t going to be easy. Pretty fucking hard, in fact. You didn’t part ways on good terms, and when he finally walked away from you it was with angry words and more than a few tears. It was unfortunate but necessary. It didn’t change your feelings for Dean though; not back then and not now.

The next day, you had taken care of the necessary arrangements and loaded up the car with a few necessary items. The cell came to life as you were gassing up and figured it was Sam. Not a call, but a text…

Branson… tomorrow afternoon? Told him we have a job there.

Yeah ok. Where?

I’ll text you when we get in town

Ok. See you then.

Starting up the car, you maneuvered it back onto the highway and put some miles under the wheels. With each one that passed beneath you, you felt your chest tighten a little more at the idea of seeing Dean. When you tried to figure out how to explain everything, you thought you may have to pull over and throw up.

“You didn’t say where you grabbed the case from,” Dean said, eyes affixed straight ahead and his foot pushing the Impala’s gas pedal all the way to the floor.

“Internet,” Sam replied absently, hoping Dean would drop his questions.

“Internet? Well that’s vague.”

“I don’t know, Dean, how we usually find cases. Since you don’t want to deal with the other thing, I don’t know what else to other than find a case. So that’s what I did.”

“Fair enough. So, where do we start?”

“Uh, the usual, I guess. Find a place to stay, talk to a couple locals, figure out how to go into the case.

“Suits and ID little brother. FBI is the quickest way in.”

“Not always,” he said rolling his eyes slightly at his big brother. “Sometimes, subtle is better.”

Dean snorted a laugh. “Yeah, ok. Whatever you say, Sammy.”

They rode in silence for a little while, and Sam was determined to keep trying to change Dean’s mind.

“So, I may have found another Shaman. It’s a long shot, but if he could help—”

“Sam don’t do this. Stop trying to save me, alright?”

“No, Dean I will never stop trying! Why are you so willing to die?!”

“Come on, man. Its not like that. I just think it’s a waste of energy. Nothing’s gonna stop it.”

“Can’t you try? What about me, and Bobby? All the other people out there that love you?! What are we supposed to do, Dean? Just let it happen?”

“What people? It’s you and Bobby. That’s it.”

“That’s not it. There’s Ellen, and Jo… Ash. We have friends in other places, Dean… and what about Y/N?”

Dean slowly turned his eyes from the road and bore them into his little brother. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

“She cares about you, Dean! We all do—”

“Why the Hell would you bring her into this? She cares so much that a million years ago she cursed me out and told me to fuck off. WHY would you bring her up?”

Sam panicked and shrugged, trying to think of an excuse. “I just—I mean, she was the last real serious girlfriend you had, and I thought maybe… one day…”

“I’d go back? For what? She made her feelings clear.”

“You don’t miss her at all?”

Dean was quiet and cast a dirty look from the corner of his eye. “No. I don’t miss her at all,” he lied and went back to driving in silence.

They reached Branson a couple hours later, and the moment that Dean pulled into the parking lot of the motel, he noticed Sam texting away.

“Got a girlfriend I don’t know about?” Dean teased, trying to peak at the screen.

“No!” Sam pulled it away from him and quickly shoved it in his coat pocket, but not before hitting send on his message to Y/N. If this was going to work, Dean couldn’t know she was in town before he actually saw her.

Dean brought the bags into the room and mumbled something about taking a shower to wash the road off. Sam heard the water start in the bathroom and took out his phone.

One missed message.

I’m here. Room 15.

We’re in 27.

What now?

Idk, give me a few minutes. Dean’s in the shower.

Sam fidgeted nervously with his phone until the water shut off, and Dean exited in nothing but a towel.

“Listen, I was thinking. I’m fricking starving. Let’s start with the diner across the street, alright? Then we can chat up the locals, make a plan.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Sam said with a smile. “I’ll go start the car.”

Dean looked at him in that funny, confused way and shrugged his bare shoulders. “Dude… you don’t need to start the car. Gimme five minutes and I’m ready.”

“Alright, fine. Meet you outside.” Sam jumped up and rushed out the door.

“So weird…” Dean mumbled and went about getting dressed.

Sam sprinted down the covered walkway until he was face to face with room 15. He rose his fist to knock, but the door opened, and Y/N was standing there starring back at him.

Seeing Sam’s face again was like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t seen him since you bumped into him in California, before that he had just been a gawky teenager. Now it appeared he had grown another foot over the years. But his eyes and that smile… they hadn’t changed a bit.

“Hey,” he said softly, nervously fidgeting his hands together. He seemed unsure if he should hug you or not, so you opened your arms and made the first move.

Sam returned your hug and flashed one of his precious dimples at you before checking over his shoulder.

“He wants to go to the diner over there. We’re gonna walk over, and maybe you can—”

“I knew you had some girl here, Sammy. This isn’t about a case at all is it?”

Dean’s voice. You’d know it anywhere. Sam froze and slowly turned to see his brother approaching, just as your stomach bottomed out on the floor.

Dean Winchester, still wearing his dad’s old leather jacket and looking damn fine doing it. He was twirling a set of keys in his hand and had a ‘cat-ate-the-canary’ kinda smile across his face. Seeing him didn’t quite elicit the feelings you thought it would, but rather something else entirely. Suddenly, you wanted to try and duck back into the room so he couldn’t see you. But it was far too late for that.

The minute he saw you and realized it was you, all bets were off. It was Dean’s turn to freeze in the middle of the walkway as he passed a pensive glance at you before his eyes began shooting daggers at his brother.

His jaw clenched, the fire in his eyes finding its way to you again before turning back to Sam. “This is why we’re here? For her? This is why you brought her up in the car, isn’t it? There’s no case at all, is there Sam?”

“Dean, I just thought… Maybe if you listened to her…”

“Listen? To Y/N? Why? Why the hell would I do that? She bailed on me, man. Told me to—what was it, exactly? Oh, right. Fuck off and get out of your life. Was that right?” He was angry, his words and body language screamed how offended and hurt he was.

A force of tears stung behind your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. He was right, you were cruel that day he left. But you had to be because it was what was best then for you and everyone else. Once John Winchester found out about you and the impending bundle of joy, he did everything in his power to convince you to kick Dean to the curb, end the pregnancy, and move on.

That night you screamed at him to go, John showed up a few hours later. He handed you an envelope and asked you to take this secret to your grave.

“For both your sakes” he had said, and knowing what you knew about them, you believed then it was for the best. Inside the envelope had been a few hundred dollars and the business card for a place called Harvelle’s Roadhouse. Before he left, he turned back and said, “If you find yourself in need of a friend, there’s a number in there. Call Ellen. Just tell her you know me, but don’t tell her everything.”

That was nine, long years ago.

“Dean, I’m sorry.” It came out raspy and broken; like they were your first words after being left in a desert for days with no water. “Can’t we find a place and talk?”

He just stared at you, his eyes ablaze with anger and the rest of his expression followed suit. “Why would you call her?” he asked Sam, ignoring your question.

“Because. I didn’t know what else to do, Dean! You are dying… in ONE MONTH! You refuse to fight or find a way out of it. Its like you’ve give up completely!”

“So, you involve Y/N? You know how I feel about her, Sam.”

“I don’t,” you said louder this time. Looking between them, your eyes finally settled on Dean and took a tentative step closer. Sam moved back towards the wall of the motel and just watched nervously as you kept trying to approach Dean. “I know I hurt you. A lot. I know what you are facing now, and I want to help. Sam sorta filled me in--”

“Of course he did,” he grumbled and flashed a look of annoyance at Sam.

“Please, Dean. Let’s go sit down and just talk, ok? There’s… there’s some stuff you should probably know. Things that may change how you feel—”

“How I feel? Feel about what? Being supper for the Hellhounds? Sweetheart, you don’t have the first idea how that makes me feel. Don’t pretend you do.”

“I’m sorry, I am. I can’t make you go, but I’m headed across the street because I’m starving. I’d love for you to join me, so we can catch up and I can explain what happened back then. It may help you now.”

“How the hell do you think catching up over a cup of coffee and slice of pie about shit that happened, what, nine years ago, would matter now?” Dean scoffed.

“Because! I can explain why I made you leave and why I needed you to go.”

“Come on, Sam. Let’s go back to Bobby’s. Pick up a real case from there, do some things that matter with the time I got left,” Dean said, completely ignoring you and turned to leave.

You felt a surge of anger rising. “God! You are the most infuriating man in the world Dean Winchester! Stand here and talk to me Goddammit!”

Dean’s brow furrowed in curiosity and you clearly had his attention now. Sam put a hand on his shoulder and did his best to convince him to stay put. “Just listen to her, please. This could change everything.”

“No, Sam. It can’t,” Dean sighed. He closed his eyes for a moment, stowing himself against whatever was about to come next. “I know what she’s going to say, Sam. It’s the same thing they all say. I shouldn’t have pushed you away, asked you to go, said I didn’t care… blah blah blah. Dredging up some woman I used to love a million years ago isn’t going to stop me from being dog chow. So, please. Just drop it, ok?”

“What if…” a sob caught in your throat, once you were able to force it back down, and swiped at the lone tear that crept down your cheek, you found the resolve to continue. “What if, that woman you used to love, has been raising your daughter for the past eight years and she’s finally come here to tell you about her.”

There. It was out. Sam’s gaze fell to the concrete walkway with a sigh of relief, but his hand still rested on Dean’s shoulder. It was there to help steady his older brother a little when he swayed with the surprise of what you just admitted.

Dean’s tongue darted out over his bottom lip before he swallowed audibly. “Wha—what did you say?”

“I got pregnant, Dean. And, it’s a long story, but that’s why I picked the fight and made you leave. I thought it was for the best. I thought I was going to end it, anyway. And your dad—”

“My father?!” Dean questioned loudly. “What the hell does he have to do—”

A realization struck him, and he bent at the waist with his hands on his knees and tried to catch a breath to calm himself. “Was it his?”

“No! Ewe, no… I called your number. The one I had for you then, crying. Your dad answered and I just… it just came pouring out.”

“I need to sit down,” Dean groaned, the color draining from his face.

“Here, come inside…” you moved aside so Dean and Sam could come in, and they did so without hesitation. Dean fell into the chair beside the window and rubbed a hand over his mouth.

You sat on the edge of the bed and watched him, while Sam closed and locked the door behind him. Sam hovered in the background, just watching his brother with trepidation. Occasionally he would glance at you, and look as though he wanted to say something, but never did.

You had to say something, if for no other reason than to break the heavy silence of the room. “Dean?”

“Don’t ask if I am ok, because I am not… ok.”

Dean got up from the chair and started pacing the room, eventually stopping in front of Sam. “And you knew? This whole time?!”

“Sort of. I knew Y/N had been pregnant, but I didn’t know she kept it until a couple years after.”

Dean was in shock. He just shook his head and began pacing again.

“Dean… please. I can explain—”

“Walk away from me, Sam. Seriously. Go back to the room, or to the diner, I don’t really care. Just… leave. I’ll talk to you later.”

Sam’s distraught expression made your heart ache for him. You knew how much Sam loved him and could only imagine the regret building in his heart for keeping this secret for so long. He offered you a half smile and quietly left the room. When Dean heard the latch of the door mark his brother’s exit, he turned and punched the old wood paneling of the room, leaving a few splintered pieces.

“Hey, asshole. You’re paying the security deposit,” you said, standing from the bed and squaring up to him.

“How could you not tell me? And what did my father do, threaten you, pay you off?” he asked, again ignoring your comment.

“I didn’t tell you because, yeah, he threatened me and paid me off. But the money was to terminate the pregnancy. He said there shouldn’t be more Winchesters in the world. That your lives were far too dangerous for love or family, and that you needed to focus on the job at hand.”

Dean’s face contorted through a myriad of emotions as he listened to the betrayal his father initiated. His mouth fell open, lips quivering as he did his best to breathe through the anger that was near boiled over. When his eyes found you again, they were wet, but no tears fell.

“How could he…” Dean whispered to himself but kept his gaze locked with yours.

You could see the pain he was in and you didn’t know how to make it stop. So, doing the only thing you could think of, you turned around and grabbed your duffel off the bed, rummaging through until you found what you were looking for.

Now, holding the picture of your daughter in your hands, then looking back at Dean, you were amazed at how much she really did look like him. She had your color eyes, but the rest of her features, came courtesy of Dean Winchester. Her sandy brown hair was long and wavy, little dimples set into her features when she smiled, and a peppering of freckles went across the bridge of her nose and spilled onto her cheeks.

You smiled softly at her image and suddenly missed her terribly. Dean realized what you were holding, and his features softened.

“Is that her?”

“Mhm,” you responded and held it out for him. “Her name is Olivia Kate, but I call her Ollie.”

Dean took the photograph and stared at it for what felt like forever. He walked back to the bed and sat on the corner, his eyes never leaving the picture.

“She’s beautiful,” he mused and looked up at you with damp eyes. “She’s really beautiful.”

“She is. She looks a lot like you,” you said and smiled wistfully. “Was a super big handful as a baby, too. I am guessing also, a lot like you.”

You took the chance and sat next to him. It was the closest you’d been to him in forever, but yet, also felt like no time had passed at all. Dean’s hand absently reached out for yours. You clutched it in both of your hands and let it rest on your thigh. So many years of guilt and regret sat on your shoulders, and despite the reasons John gave, and you accepted, you felt awful for keeping him from Ollie for so long.

“Dean… I can’t begin to apologize for not telling you sooner. Or even making Sam stay quiet. What your dad and I did—”

“What he did.”

“I agreed to it.”

Dean snorted a laugh. “Yeah, well, no one I know has ever said ‘no’ to John Winchester. Why should you be any different?”

“Don’t be angry at Sam, either. He was only doing what I asked.”

“How did he even find out?”

“About two years after Ollie was born, I literally just bumped into him. I was visiting my family out in California. They wanted to give us the tour of the town and the college where my cousin went, and while out and about, we ran into Sam.”

“What are the odds?” Dean snarked and sighed.

“Apparently they went to the same college. He was on his way to work and we passed each other on the street. I wasn’t going to acknowledge him because I was scared he’d ask about Ollie.”

“Did he?”

“He did. He was surprised to see her and began asking questions. We talked for a few minutes. He said he overheard John on the phone with me that night. Later he confronted your father, and I guess John said it was a false alarm. Then he saw Ollie and… your brother isn’t stupid.”

“You made him promise to keep quiet?”

“I did. I thought if you found out… and your dad found out… I was scared, Dean. John made it sound like if anyone knew there was another Winchester out there that they would be in danger. Something bad would come for her. So, yeah. I swore him to secrecy. Clearly, he only lasted so long.”

Dean pulled his hand from yours and stood up from the bed. He was pacing again, but slower this time, more contemplative than angry.

“I guess Sam thought if I knew about her now, I’d fight harder to find a way out.”

“Did it work? Will you try other ways?”

Dean shook his head and smiled, but there was no joy in his gesture. “No. Nothing can change this. If Sam wants me to try something, I will, just to satisfy whatever it is he needs satisfied. But for me, the end is coming and there’s nothing I can do about it. Honestly, it’s been freeing.”

“Freeing?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t have to worry about anything… what’s the point of worrying about the future when you don’t have one? Right? Sam will be alright—”

“You’re an asshole,” you stood up and now it was your turn to steam with fury. “Do you hear yourself? Your brother is NOT going to be alright, Dean. Not even a little. Do you not see him?! He’s sick over the thought of losing you.”

“Nothing I can do about that,” he mumbled, frustrating setting into his brow.

“Bullshit. Do whatever you can. Fight. Come up with a plan of attack, at least go down swinging. There’s gotta be something, somewhere that will fend off a Hellhound. Some lore, or spells…”

“Whoa. Wait? You sound like you know what you’re talking about. What the Hell is that about?”

You sighed and rolled your neck from side to side trying to ease some of the growing tension. Getting caught up in the riptide of emotions from telling Dean about Ollie, you had failed to mention the rest of the story.

“Right. Well… the night your father gave me the money for the abortion, he gave me a business card for a place called Harvelle’s.”

“You know Ellen?!”

“I do. I went there a few months before Ollie was born. I was alone and scared, and he said that if I needed a friend, I could call on her. So, I finally did. I didn’t tell her I knew you or that you were the father. Just that I knew John because of a case, which wasn’t a lie…” Dean rolled his eyes and motioned for you to continue. “…she took me in for a while. Helped me get on my feet, take care of Ollie… taught me about hunting.”

“So, you hunt now? Isn’t that a little hypocritical considering—”

“Easy, cowboy. I do not hunt. I do, however, have nursing skills and occasionally help stitch up some hunters when she needs me too.”

“This is all too fucking much,” he said and ran a hand through his hair. “Where is Ollie now? Who’s watching her while you’re here?”

“Her step-father. Well, he’s my ex now, but she knows him as her step-dad.”

Dean’s body stiffened. “Step-father?”

“I was married for a little while, Dean. And now I’m not.”

“I need a drink. You want a drink? Please tell me you have something in here.” He began rifling through the cabinet and small fridge that was tucked in the corner. When he came up empty, he saw your keys sitting on the dresser. He grabbed them, then your hand and said, “Come on.”

Twenty minutes later you were sitting in the corner of an old western style bar in the outskirts of Branson. The hollowed-out honkytonk was sparsely populated, with a few of the patrons dancing lazily on the planked dance floor to an old Patsy Cline number. The waitress brought your round of drinks and barely gave you a second glance as she placed them down then sauntered away, her cowboy boots walking in beat with the song.

You and Dean each grabbed your shot of whiskey and tossed it back at the same time, your eyes meeting over the pints of beer that was washing down the burn of the Jack. He was quiet, and though he was watching you, he seemed lost in something a million miles away.

“I’m not going to survive this,” he said finally, resolute in his words. “I’m not, and I can’t change that. I just don’t want to spend any more time, fighting. With anyone. Not Sam, not you… not the memory of my father.”

“So, what then?”

Dean frowned and shrugged, taking a long drink of his beer. “I don’t know. Hunt… save people. Eat some pie. Drink more. Drive fast. Enjoy time with a woman, maybe.”

You tried to ignore the feelings that arose at the thought of being with Dean again, but your body flushed warmed anyway. You reminded yourself that he didn’t mean you, and that brought on an entire different feeling… jealousy. You brushed it off and did your best to just roll with the conversation, trying to hide how affected you were by his comment and the way he was watching you.

“Oh, I imagine the ‘I only have a month to live’ troupe works wonders for you.”

Dean smiled his most genuine, charming smile and raised his glass in salute.

His smile is still the devil’s work, I see… you thought to yourself as he gulped down the rest of his drink. He motioned for another round at the waitress and turned back to you.

“As for… our daughter, I don’t want her to know me. Not with the time I got left. What you tell her after that is up to you, but I won’t appear in her life only to be ripped out a few weeks later. That’s not fair. But, maybe… you let Sam know her. Let him be her uncle and be there to keep her safe.”

All you could do was nod because the lump in your throat negated any sort of verbal response from happening. You just sat in silence and finished your pint until the waitress returned with two more shots and two more beers. Dean threw his whiskey back immediately and chased it, but you just ran your finger absently around the lip of the shooter.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip, his brow creased in concern.

“I don’t like imaging a world without Dean Winchester. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah, ok.”

“Just because of this history we have… it doesn’t stop the fact that the time we did spend together, meant something to me. It meant a hell of a lot, actually. I called you when I found out I was pregnant. If you had answered the phone instead of John… things could have been so different, Dean. I loved you, then. I’ve missed you every day since. Tried to tell myself I didn’t, but I did. I have that one, stupid polaroid we took, do you remember? We were at that drive-in, you stole your dad’s car to pick me up and go… we made really good use of the back seat.”

Dean conjured the memory and couldn’t help but smile at the recollection.

“I carried that with me for years. I only tucked it away when I thought I had lost it, then promptly lost my mind. It was the only image I had of you and I was afraid I would forget what you looked like. I had already forgotten what your voice sounded like…”

Without thinking, you reached across the table and took his hand. His skin felt warm and welcoming, his fingers gladly accepting yours to entangle with his. With your free hand, you tossed back your shot of whiskey and decided it was time to say everything you needed to.

“My ex… he knew a little about you, and the situation. He left me in the end because he knew that I couldn’t love him the way I loved you. It didn’t matter that you were gone, you lived in here,” you patted your chest over your heart, “and in Ollie. Though he loves her like his own, he couldn’t forgive me for loving you more.”

Dean’s face fell. “Y/N—”

“I don’t tell you this for any other reason, but for you to understand how I feel about you. How I have always felt. You’re right, what you said before. I was going to say that I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I let John scare me, and I hate myself for it.”

The mixture of alcohol with a very emotional day finally cracked your tough exterior. A few stray tears made their way down your cheeks as you did your best to contain the rest of the tsunami that really wanted to come out.

Dean got up from his side of the booth and slid into yours. He didn’t say anything, just wiped away what had fallen with the pad of his thumb. He lightly traced the line of your cheekbone to your jaw, as his eyes slowly examined every inch of your face.

He hesitated, then drew your lips to his. Dean kissed you softly, tentative to your reaction and to the reaction he may have as well. When you returned it, he found more courage and pressed his mouth to yours. He parted his lips, encouraging you to do the same with the tip of his tongue. Tasting him again, after so many years of just trying to remember him, was intoxicating. You were immediately transported to that place and time you shared with him. The passion you had for him was instantly reinvigorated, but underneath was the surprise you felt at it actually happening.

After you had made him leave and denied him his daughter, you never thought he’d want to kiss you again, much less with such longing.

His hand moved around to the back of your neck, but he didn’t push you into him as you wanted him to. Putting your hand on his knee, you drug your nails along the fabric of his jeans and up his thigh. That’s when he leaned into you, even more, forcing you back against the wall of the booth, his fingers firmly ensconced in your hair.

The kiss deepened, mouths were parted wide, tongues touching and teeth biting. There was a need in that kiss. There were almost ten years of longing in that kiss; but there was also, anger and love, regret and heartbreak.

His hand still holding the back of your head, Dean finally pulled back, his tongue running across his lips getting the taste of you and wanting more.

“Motel?”

You smirked. “Wow, I don’t even get the pleasure of a cheesy pickup line? Last night on Earth? Nothing? You’re slacking, Winchester."

Your teasing only made him narrow his eyes at you. He released his grip on your hair and took the hand you had on his thigh and pulled you up from the booth. He threw down some cash on the table, took your hand again, and lead you back out into the parking lot.

Dean didn’t say a word on the ten-minute drive back to the motel. When he parked, he killed the engine, pulled out the keys, then reached over for you and jerked you closer. His eyes were already oozing with lust as he pulled you onto his lap. Your ass hit the horn, but it didn’t stop him from grabbing your hips and pulling you down on him, the hard length of his erection meeting the heat between your thighs.

“I want this. Badly. I’m still pissed about everything, but my God, I want you. Y/N, if you don’t, or can’t I understand…”

“I’ve never wanted anything but this, Dean.”

“Even if this is it, all it could ever be?”

You swallowed hard and realized that it was the last chance you’d have to be with him again. Slowly, and as much as you hated to do it, you climbed off his lap and exited out of the driver’s side door. He sat there and sighed, but when you reached your hand out for his, he took it and got out.

You didn’t let go of his hand as you led him through the door of your motel room. No more words needed to be spoken. There was no time for that now. There was a lot of years to account for in a short amount of time, and you didn’t want to ruin it with talking.

Dean stood motionless as you removed his coat and tossed it on the chair, then slowly worked on freeing him from his flannel and t-shirt. When his chest was bare, your fingers traced along the tattoo on his chest gingerly. You leaned him to kiss him there, and wrapped your arms up around his neck, letting your lips work their way up towards his neck. When you reached his ear, you kissed him there, making his skin ripple with goosebumps.

“If you haven’t figured it out yet, I want you, even if it is just for tonight.”

Dean didn’t wait another second. He tore at your shirt and the buckle of your jeans, making quick work of stripping them off and tossing them aside. His hands moved up your arms to your neck, then down your back, removing your bra and pressing your body to his. He walked you back towards the bed, then pushed you down to it. His eyes were dark and greedy, not like when you’d been together before. This was different, this was lust like you’d never felt before and your ache for him grew to desperate levels. Sitting up you unbuckled his jeans quickly and didn’t hesitate when his cock sprung free from its restraints to take hold of it.

Taking it into your mouth, you teased him at first as his hands wrapped around your head and once again tangled in your hair. Working as much of him into your mouth, you heard him groan and dig his fingers in deeper with each pass you made using your tongue.

He relished in your attention for a minute or two before he backed up from you to remove his jeans all the way. You pushed yourself further back on to the bed, seductively slipping off your underwear while holding his gaze. He watched you for a moment, and you remembered how he liked to do that.

More than a few times, though he had been shy about it, he would ask to watch you touch yourself. But being young and somewhat unsure, it was only for a moment or two. Now, you could feel what he wanted just by the intensity in which he drank you in.

You allowed your fingers to slip down into your folds. You would rather it would be his hand touching you there, but any stimulation was welcomed against your throbbing clit. It didn’t take more than a minute for him to be on top of you. He brought your hand up to his lips, letting his tongue take the taste of you off your fingers. His dick positioned so it just teased the ridges of your sex, so slick and ready for him, it wouldn’t take much to slide himself up inside you.

That’s what you wanted… needed him to do. You begged him with your eyes, but he only gave you a twitch of a smile before he bent his head down, taking your hard nipple into his mouth. He sucked and teased you with his tongue while taking your hands and pinning them above your head. Your body writhed beneath him, pleading with him to enter you, to fill you as quickly and as hard as he could.

“Dean… please…”

With one last lick of your nipple, he relented and quickly thrust up into you, causing you to inhale sharply. He moved slowly, your moans growing with each pass, your hips rising and falling with his. Dean’s head hung lowly near yours, his eyes closed, his mouth opened and breathing heavily.

He felt so good inside you, right where he should have been all these years. But you wanted more, needed more…

“Fuck.. harder baby, please… I need you…”

Dean released your hands. You immediately wrapped them around his back and ran them down his arms, gripping him tightly. You raised up your knees, allowing him a better angle to sink deeply into you. His hips moved faster, hitting that spot that drove you crazy and caused you to call his name in repeated whispers. Both of your breathing was becoming more erratic as his lips hovered over yours; not quite kissing you but brushing together with each thrust upward.

You held onto him for dear life as he fucked into you, now licking and biting at your neck the closer he got to climax. He growled as his movements became uneven, throwing his head back with a few last rough thrusts.

“Unnff Fuck!” he cried out as your walls fluttering around his cock made him cum inside you.

You held onto each other, breathless and exposed. You brought a hand to his stubbled cheek, guiding his gaze, and lips, back towards yours.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he rasped before kissing you again. Lowering himself to the spot on the bed beside you, he let his gaze linger along the curves of your body and brushed a tuft of hair from your cheek. “I love you. No matter what happened then, or what happens now, always remember that, alright?”

You nodded silently and tucked yourself into him. You stayed that way for a long while and fell asleep at some point. When you woke up, you were alone. If not for the heap of your clothes on the floor, you may have thought it was all a dream. But there, on the nightstand was a folded piece of paper with your name on it.

Y/N,

I couldn’t stand to say goodbye again, even under better circumstances. I’m keeping the picture. I want her face to be the last thing I see. Take care of her, and Sam, too.

I love you.

Dean

You squeezed your eyes tightly shut, but it did little to stop all the tears that had been waiting. Maybe they had just been waiting for Dean to go. Either way, they came, and didn’t stop for many, many hours.

Six months had passed since the night in the motel room. You didn’t hear from Dean again, but you did get a message from Sam. About a month after Branson, it was one line… two words. But it was devastating.

He’s gone.

Your heart broke that day. You hid in the linen closet at work near the nurses’ station and crumpled into a ball on the floor. You didn’t realize how long you had been that way until the door opened and an orderly found you there. There was no way to describe what you were feeling, so you kept it to yourself and just concentrated on taking care of Ollie.

You tried to call Sam many times over the next couple of months, but it went straight to voicemail, and eventually, you got the message that the line had been disconnected. You saw Ellen less and less, though it may ease the pain to remove yourself from that world completely. But it didn’t. Once, you casually asked her about Sam Winchester, and she just said he was in the wind after his brother died. You never mentioned any of this to Ollie. Nor did you admit to Ellen that she was Dean’s daughter.

Just bury it all, you told yourself, forget that night in Branson ever happened and go on with your life.

That’s just what you did.

Six months after Branson, you were laying in bed, much like the night Sam first called you. This time, it was the burner phone that rang. Though you weren’t seeing much of Ellen, you still answered whenever she called.

“Hey Ellen, what’s up?” you asked in greeting.

“Well, it’s not Ellen,” the voice said, making you sit up in bed. It was deep and familiar, causing you to experience a bout of Déjà vu, and immediately you felt like you did the night Sam had called.

You swallowed hard, your nerves feeling an electrified current of energy pulsating through the phone.

“Who—who is this? Sam?”

He snorted a laugh. “No, sweetheart. It’s not Sam.”

It couldn’t be. Dean was dead.

“I—um…who?”

“It’s me. It’s Dean. I’m back.”

You felt the receiver fall from your hand as the world around you got fuzzy. There was a ripple of static in your ears, but you could hear his voice through the phone now laying on the top of the blankets.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

Somehow, you pulled yourself back from the verge of passing out and found the phone, bringing it back to your ears.

“Dean? But… how?”

“Guess there was a way out, after all. So, I was wondering. Wanna get that pie, now?”

Part 2

#Dean Winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader insert #spn fan fiction #dean winchester fan fiction

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shadowofthelamp · 5 years

Text

Two AM

Another kofi commission! Some post-canon heartshipping (can be taken as platonic or romantic) with video games and bad cartoony ice creams. This was commissioned by @temporallyanduin. Feedback is super appreciated, in replies, comments, or tags!

AO3 Link

Wordcount: 1480

Warnings: None

Yugi was asleep. It was 3:45 am, a time one normally would be asleep at. But his phone started blasting out his ringtone from its spot upon his bedside table, and he fumbled for it, jamming the home button a few times before remembering how to actually answer the call.

“ ‘ello?” He mumbled, only to hear static followed by a muffled shriek. That helped wake him up. “Who is this?” He stumbled out of bed, checking the caller ID- he saw it was from Ryou moments before the call ended.

Yugi shoved his duel monsters deck in his pocket immediately hurried downstairs- his sweatpants would be good enough, and he tossed on a jacket and coat before running outside to the subway. It was light on foot traffic at this hour and he fired off a few worried texts.

[ru ok?]

[this a magic thing? i grabbed my deck in case]

The colors of the subway car seemed washed out and too bright at the same time, and Yugi practically sprinted out as soon as he hit the right stop, running until he reached Ryou’s apartment. He hit the doorbell and was buzzed in, and took a deep breath, bracing himself before opening the door-

-To see Ryou on the computer with headphones on his head, playing some game with creepy lighting where he was flicking though screens in a grimy-looking office.

“Ryou?”

Ryou jumped, before whirling around. He tugged his headphones down to his neck. “Yugi? What are you doing here?”

“You called, and then there was a scream and you wouldn’t answer my calls-”

“I did?” Ryou glanced over at his desk. “Where is- oh.” He reached down and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I must have called you on accident, I’m just playing a game and I’ve been dying a lot. You probably just heard one of those times.”

“So- you’re fine?”

Ryou smiled. “Yes, I’m- dammit!” Something must have roared in the headphones, because he flinched. “I was so close that time…”

Yugi’s heart was still going about a mile a minute, but his breathing was starting to settle. “What.... what game was it?”

“It’s about a haunted pizza place. The animatronics try to kill you, and you just have to survive your shift. I’m on night four and it’s really tripping me up.”

“Can I watch? I kind of ran here, and-”

“Of course- as long as I’m dead, I’ll make us some tea. I probably needed a break anyways.”

“Don’t you have work in the morning?” Yugi asked, and Ryou shrugged.

“If I do the shelving at the gift shop with bags under my eyes, it’s not like they’re going to buy any less.” He paused. “Want to stay for the night?”

Yugi opened his mouth to decline, but then realized it would be a lot nicer to just wait here than heading back home right away after that panicked sprint. He had an afternoon shift at the shop today, not a morning one. “Alright.”

“The couch is pretty comfy.” Ryou said, heading over to the kitchen and pulling out a few teabags. “Cream or sugar?”

“Sugar.” Yugi said, glancing at the screen. It showed a bunch of empty mascot suits, like the ones at Kaibaland. “You said it was a horror game?”

“Yeah, it has a bunch of jumpscares but it’s the tension that gets you.” Ryou said, setting down a kettle of water to boil.

“Huh.” Yugi pulled out his deck and shuffled it just for something to do with his hands, and Ryou noticed.

“You brought your-?” Suddenly, a grin slid across his face. “You thought I was in trouble and you brought your deck?”

“Hey, it’s saved our lives more than once!”

“I’m not complaining, it’s just… man, our lives are wild, huh?” Ryou leaned against the counter. “I was sent to another dimension and you playing a card game saved me.”

Yugi smiled. “It does sound kind of weird when you put it like that.”

“Want to play a round while we wait for the tea?”

Yugi yawned. “As long as we’re here…”

Ryou pulled his deck out from his desk, then plopped down on the floor. “I’ll go first. I set a card facedown and summon Headless Knight in defense position…”

_________

Maybe it was because Ryou’s adrenaline was still running high from the game, maybe it was because Yugi was just tired, or both, but Ryou managed to beat him by the time the tea was ready. Dark Necrofear had taken control of his Summoned Skull and used it to finish him off.

“Nice one.” Yugi said as he scribbled down -600 points as it destroyed his Armored Dragon. “I probably should head to bed-”

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to watch me play?” Ryou said as he put his deck back together.

Yugi raised an eyebrow, but smiled. “You’re a bad influence.” He joked, but grabbed a chair from the kitchen to set it next to the computer.

Ryou unplugged his headphones so Yugi could hear too. The rapidfire clicking and moving around almost made him dizzy, but he could see why Ryou was getting frustrated- most of the time, he almost made it almost to the end, but then something killed him or he ran out of power.

Ryou’s commentary was more colorful than he’d expected, and Yugi realized this was the first time they’d really been alone together, especially since school had ended. Ryou’s pale skin looked almost ghostly in the game’s washed-out light, and seeing him so focused was almost like seeing a whole new person.

He ended up falling asleep on the chair and woke up with a blanket on.

_______

After that, Yugi took time to visit Ryou about once a week. Usually after work, as their sleepovers were starting to become more commonplace. Ryou had showed him the game, and Yugi found out that while he had a knack for games like chess or duel monsters, video games that required lightning-fast hair-trigger reflexes took more getting used to.

Yugi also came over to drag Ryou outside- when he wasn’t at work or doing errands, he tended to coop himself up in his apartment. Really, it was a wonder he’d survived living on his own for so long.

“Holy crap.” Ryou had been pulled out of his apartment earlier by Yugi for lunch together, but now it was his turn to drag Yugi towards the ice cream truck.

“What?”

“Look at the new flavor!” Ryou was holding back a laugh as he pointed, and Yugi’s eyes widened.

“Me?” It was his face, right there with gumballs for eyes.

“I’m getting it.” Ryou pulled out his wallet, rifling through for a few yen bills and handing them over. “One duelist pop, please.”

“Certainly- oh!” The man running the truck stared when Yugi met his eyes. “Ah… hello!”

Yugi thought for a moment, and the man simmered in his own sweat before he said “I’ll have one of those too.”

A few minutes later, they were sitting by a park fountain as they unwrapped their treats together.

Yugi stared- one of the eyes was down by the mouth, and the colors all melted into each other.

“Tough luck.” Ryou said. “I’m glad I’m not famous enough to have my image mutilated like this.” He took a bite out of Yugi’s hair. “Huh, you taste like raspberry.”

“I would have thought I’d be more of a cherry man.” Yugi said, taking a bite himself. “Oh, you’re right, I do.”

“What flavor you think they’d make me?” Ryou wondered.

“Boo-berry.” Yugi grinned, booping Ryou’s nose with his ice cream and leaving a little red stain on it.

Ryou started laughing, trying to lick at the bit of ice cream, but his tongue couldn’t make it all the way, so he just gave up and booped Yugi right back with his melted likeness. Yugi wiped at his nose with his thumb, then licked it off there.

“Coward.” Ryou said. “You didn’t even try to get it.”

“I don’t think my tongue somehow grew that much while I wasn’t looking.” Yugi said, taking another bite of the ice cream. “Besides, I’m not sure you aren’t just sleep deprived.”

“I still haven’t worked all the way through my game library yet!” Ryou protested.

“You also haven’t gotten back the money’s worth on your mattress either.” Yugi said. “I’ll stay over tonight, and if I bring dinner, do you promise to go to bed by two?”

“Are you going to just get Burger World?”

“...Answer the question.”

“Counter idea. You bring dinner, we both play, and then I’ll go to bed at two. Deal?”

“Deal.”

They didn’t end up getting to bed until 3:15, but they were so tired they ended up just falling asleep on the couch together, and Yugi counted it as a victory.

#heartshipping #ryou bakura #yugi mutou #yugi muto #yugioh #shadow writes stuff #temporallyanduin #kofi commission

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roses-and-oceans · 7 years

Text

Cafe. (ffxv twin au)

For @ubeshibe; my half of our trade!

I hope you don't mind, I added a little bit of a twist to it... And then I think it sprialed out of control like most of my writing does LOL I AM SO SORRY. HHHHHH. I SEND U ALL MY GOOD IGNIS PICS AS RECOMPENSE. IM ALSO SORRY IT TOOK SO GOTDAN LONG AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH ENDLES SHRIEKING.

Also holy SHTI TUMBLR MOBLIE SUCKS DICK I AM SALTY

Scientia Twin HCs

Aurelio sat down on the plush leather armchair in Ignis' study and propped his feet up on the coffee table. Not a moment later did Ignis come in, arms laden with a tea tray and books. Aurelio looked up in astonishment from his twin's amazing balance and as Ignis handed over the books, Ignis also kicked off Aurelio's legs off the table with a stern, "Oi."

Aurelio scrunched up his nose in a besmused expression as he examined the spines of the books, "Ah, lovely. These are just what I've been looking for!" "Will they help with your expedition notes, then?" Ignis asked as he poured them both cups of tea. He sprinkled in a bit of sugar in Aurelio's cup and placed the cup and saucer next to the books. As Ignis was readying his own cuppa, he looked over to Aurelio peering over the lip of his own teacup. He was smiling... Ignis felt his nerves bristle a bit and steeled himself for Aurelio's probing. A beat passed. Obviously, he had to engage him. Ignis sighed as he raised the porcelain to his lips, "Yes?" "So who was that lovely person I heard that you were ogling at the coffee shop?" Ignis had enough grace to keep from spitting out his tea. "I beg your-?" Ogling? No, he couldn't have been staring for that long for it to be called "ogling". It was polite interest and-. "What a miraculous shade of pink you are, brother dear." Ignis gave a little cough and took a deep breath. "How did you even know about-?" "Noctis is easily persuaded by pizza." Aurelio laughed as his brother glared daggers at him, "Oh cut him some slack, Igs! He's a growing boy-" "With a severe vitamin deficiency-" "-and is also not the choice of subject for discussion..." He put down his cup on the saucer and inched forward in the armchair. "I want to hear about this mystery person... Noct couldn't glimpse hide nor hair before you were scolding him to make him pay attention to whatever it was you two were doing." Ignis rolled his eyes and simply said, "No," and took a swig of his tea. Aurelio scoffed and leaned back. "Ignis, why not?" "Because, I'm not all that keen on discussing it." "Have you talked to them, at least?" "I told you, I'm not-" "So you have! You would have denied it, otherwise!" "Pipe down, you git! Alright, yes, I've talked to-" "I knew it! I was just bluffing-" "I swear to the astrals... Shiva, grace me with the strength..." ** Somehow, Ignis found himself seated in the cafe he frequented with Noctis during the week, between meetings and study sessions. This little corner shop was modest in decor and prices, yet they brewed a cup of Ebony to pure perfection. Though enjoying a nice cup of his favorite coffee, Ignis’ leg was twitching. He watched Aurelio calmly sip his chamomile tea, his brother’s eyes roaming everywhere to take in everyone’s faces. Ignis tried to look everywhere but at your face. You were working diligently on Astrals’-knew-what, completely oblivious to the bustling shop around you. Ignis spared a glance. He knew he shouldn’t have but he couldn’t resist your focused expression. He found it endearing, charming even. He liked seeing that glint in your eye. He watched you pause the task to glance at your phone and he could hear your bark of laughter through the cacophony of the clinks of porcelain, the mindless chatter. He wondered if he should brave a conversation with you, today. But you looked dreadfully busy, he couldn’t possibly-. “Hold my tea.” A lukewarm cup of tea was thrust into Ignis’ empty hand and before he could snatch Aurelio by the nape of his cardigan and force him back down on the chair, he strode over to you. You looked up from your work as a tall shadow loomed over you. Aurelio couldnt help but feel a little warm jolt at your smile. Your voice was nice and warm, a little rough, “Hey there, Stranger.” “Hello to you, too,” Aurelio said as he took a seat next to you, “How are you?” “I’m doing good,” you said as you settled into your seat, uncrossed and recrossed your legs, “I’m finishing up a few sketches.” You tossed your pencil onto the table and stretched out your wrists, reveling in the swift pops, “You look so different than usual. Day off?” Aurelio’s eyebrow quirked up, “Hmn?” You brought up a paper cup to your lips, “Your hair’s not up. And you’re not in a suit. I like the round specs too.” Gods above… did you really think-? “Aw crap! I gotta go. I’m gonna be late for this thing…” You began shoveling things into your backpack and said, “Y’know, I like this laid-back style you’ve got going today Ignis. I’ll see you next time!” You heft your bag over your shoulder and walked out of the second door, just barely missing the actual Ignis, whose upper lip was covered in a sheen of sweat, his leg jiggling miles a minute. Aurelio stood up, completely stunned into a state and walked back over to Ignis. "Well?" Ignis hissed as Aurelio sat down and took back his now cold tea. He took a sipp and said with a mild smile, "She thought I was you." "Oh, gods above," he winced as he wiped his forehead, "That's exponentially worse... What did you say to her?" Aurelio finished off his tea and gave a cough, "I really didn't say anything, other than greeting her. I just thought she was a chatty person. But I cant believe she mistook me for you! I am my own person!" "I have told her I've a brother, i didn't specify." "And why didn't you? I'm-" "Enough with your identity crisis, Aurelio! Gods, I can't believe you went over and talked to her. I want to take my time with this friendship." Ignis downed the rest of his Ebony and slammed his cup on its saucer. He started making his way out of the cafe, and Aurelio followed, a string of apologies flowing out as they walked back to their apartment complex. "I really don't need your help, Aurelio," Ignis sighed. He was tired, his head was about to explode thanks to his brother's chatter. Ignis sat on the couch and rubbed at his temples and said, "Alright, enough... Its fine, Aurelio. You didnt mean any harm. She was smiling, at least." Aurelio gave Ignis a small, sheepish smile, "Bet I can get her to laugh." "I can, too, and I dont have to resort to idiotic antics." Aurelio scoffed, "Is that a challenge, brother dear?" Ignis could feel his headache turning into a migraine. ** The very next day, Ignis withdrew the best chortle he's ever heard in existence from you. After he recounted ridiculous anecdotes from experiences with Noctis, he couldn't help but laugh along; your laughter lit up the entire cafe. The tips of his ears were pink the rest of the conversation, and eventually, you had to shoo him away. You had loads of work to do. The next day also had Aurelio trying to make you laugh. To say it had worked were to be an understatement. At least he was kind enough to bring you napkins to help clean up from your spittake. Some of your tea had even come out from your nose. "I'm so sorry, I've nearly killed you." "Its fine, really! My notes aren't all that wet." He got you a really nice cup of tea to make up for it. Then, when you decided to also shoo away Aurelio to get some work done, he noticed how your lips formed your smile, how your eyes shone. As he walked home, his ears felt warm. He still hadn't told you his name, yet. ** A week had already gone by and Ignis had not told you about Aurelio yet. It was actually rather nice to hear how kind he was to you. Not that Aurelio lacked manners, it was that he was a bit bolder than Ignis; Ignis with the bass boosted. The fact that you were easily able to converse with both about anything and everything was amazing. They both remembered your favorite pastries, your favorite tea blend, your cat's name. They remembered your friends' names. When you were with Aurelio, everything is so relaxed, calm. Plenty of more laughs to be had. You chalked it up to his "days off". With Ignis, you still laughed, of course, but there was sometimes silences, yet you both found comfort in the silences. He often brought you a home-cooked lunch. You liked to see the apples of his cheeks slightly flush when you thanked him. When you were with either of the boys, your world was a tiny bit brighter. You looked forward to seeing them everyday. It was just that they hoped that you didn't mind the little twin trick. Ignis decided to tell you this upcoming weekend. You were going to be going out of town and he thought it would be best to ruminate over the details. And hopefully, you'd still decide to be friends with them when you'd come back. Both boys were a mess of twitching legs and tapping fingers. Whaf if you were repulsed, or worse, angry? Ignis continued to dwell and dwell in the negatige thoughts of you breaking of the friendship. He thought of every grave outcome and he edging himself close to the brink of madness. Oh please, god above, forgive him. Forgive him for- "Look, there she is, I don't think she's staying." Ignis looked up to see you holding a travel cup, tea string dangling. He saw you head over to the bar to grab honey and sugar and he immediately followed. He had collected a fine sheen of sweat on his brow when he got to you. "Oh hey, Ignis!" You greeted him with one of your smiles, "Sorry, I wont be able to stay. I have to leave in a few minutes." He smiled, "No worries at all. Getting started on your weekend?" You looked up from stirring honey into your tea, "Yeah, my friends are excited to see me and I'm ready for a nice weekend away." "Alright, well I do hope you get to relax and enjoy your time." Ignis had started flapping his hand to motion Aurelio to start coming over, "But, before you leave, I've hoped to introduce you to someone." You had finally gotten the right mix of sweetness for your tea when you looked up and saw Aurelio and Ignis standing right next to each other. "Oh, my Gods!" You shrieked. Tea went flying everywhere. It hit Aurelio’s right cardigan sleeve, Ignis’ vest, and your shoes. The brothers were happy to buy you a new cup and a pastry. It was a wonder the cafe hadn't kicked the three of you out.

#ffxv au #ffxv #twin au #ignis scientia #Aurelio Felix scientia #ignis x reader #aurelio x reader #oh my gooddddddddddddddddddd #my writing

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thewalkingdeadfanfictions · 5 years

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T, the Mute, Meets Daryl, the Stupid Redneck Chapter 3 - He Your Brother?

****T's POV****

"Whoohoo!" Glenn screamed as we passed the cube van that held the others. ‘I hope T-Dog unlocked Dixon. No one deserves to die like that.’ I thought to myself as we pass the van. I shake my head as Glenn smiles at me. We had sort of became friends during the ride though it’s almost like we’re siblings, he reminds me of Yori in the way that he acts so I guess that’s why we became such quick friends. He told me about his life before the world took a shit and asked me yes or no questions about mine to which I would answer with a nod or shake of my head. He also had me show a few signs like run, hide, search, and stop. As we were now on a dirt road he started to explain the people in his group that I didn't meet yet "There's Amy, Andrea's sister I'd say she's about the same age as you maybe little younger. Since it’s hard to tell how old you are. Jim, a tall and skinny guy who was a mechanic. Lori, long brown hair and the mother of Carl, boy about 12 years old. Dale, old grandfather type. Shane, big guy who was a cop. Carol, short grayish hair, mother of Sophia, girl about 12 years old, wife of Ed, I suggest you stay away from him he has a very bad temper. Morales's wife, Miranda, and his 2 kids, Eliza and Louis, about 12 and 11. Then there's Daryl, Merle's brother, and a few others." I nod as we pull up next to other cars and people run to the car.

He parks the car getting out as someone yells "Holy Crap. Turn that damn thing off!" "I don’t know how." Glenn says laughing as I reach over and pop the hood just as someone starts to tell him to do it. I get out and grab (now) my bow and the arrows, as someone tries to disconnect the battery and a girl I assume is Amy bombards Glenn with questions "Is she okay? Is she alright?” “She’s okay! She’s okay!” he replies so she asks, more distraught “Is she coming back? Why isn’t she with you? Where is she? She’s Okay?" "Yes! Yeah, fine. Everybody is. Well, Merle not so much." Glen answers as someone disconnects the battery. “Are you crazy, driving this wailing bastard up here? Are you trying to draw every walker for miles?” a guy who I assume is Shane, as he talks like Rick, asks Glenn so a guy that has to be Dale says “I think we’re okay.” “You call being stupid okay?” Shane asks so Dale explains “Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills. Hard to pinpoint the source. I’m not arguing. I’m just saying. It wouldn’t hurt you to think a little more carefully next time, would it?” “Sorry. Got a cool car.” Glenn says and at that I smack my forehead as Dale nods reluctantly. It’s then that the cube van pulls up.

Andrea jumps out and runs to Amy, and Morales goes to his wife and kids saying "I told you I'd be back, didn’t I?" I walk over to the van, slinging my bow and the quiver over my shoulder to get my bag that I left in the van. I see Rick in the front and he shakes his head at me so I check the back of the van for Merle and my bag. He’s not there so I grab my bag and make a mental note to ask Rick about Merle as Morales yells "Hey, Helicopter boy and quiet kid! Come say hello." I assume quiet kid is me so I follow Rick a few feet before he stops looking at a woman and a boy, who seem like who Glenn described as Lori and Carl then I think ‘Wait Carl is Rick’s sons name and they look like the people in his picture’. My thoughts were confirmed as Rick says “Oh my God” as the kid ran to him yelling "Dad! Dad!" Rick met Carl half way as Lori looked at the two shocked for a moment before she comes over and hugs both of them. I stand back and watch the happy family and looked around the group hoping for a familiar face. Glenn looks at me and I shake my head and turn to walk towards the van thinking ‘My brothers not here, not that I thought he’d be but it would have been nice.’

"Hey, Dale you don't happen to have a notebook and pen for T?" Glenn asks causing me to stop and look at him and Dale to ask "Why?" "He's mute and he dropped his back in the city." “I'll go look for one for you." Dale, Lori, and Miranda told me so I nodded and went and got on top of the van. A few minutes later Dale comes over to the van holding a large notebook. I take it from him as I nod at him in thanks and open the notebook to the first page and started to write simple responses and questions that I would need commonly. “Dinner will be ready in an hour or so.” He tells be before going back to the group. I start to clean the bow and the few arrows that I had making a mental note to make better ones or ask Glenn to go on a run with me to get some. It was dark by the time I finished sharpening the arrows as they were dull, that was the death of the walker I got them from. I hopped off the van and joined Rick and the others around the fire at the same time as Shane. I didn’t like the vibe the Shane gave off most of the time so I waited for him to sit down before sitting down myself, next to Glenn. Suddenly Dale asks Rick “Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won’t be happy to hear his brother was left behind.” “I’ll tell him. I dropped the key. It’s on me.” T-Dog says. ‘So he’s still alive. I’ll ask Rick in the morning if we’re going back to get him.’ I think to myself as Rick says “I cuffed him. That makes it mine.” “Guys, it’s not a competition. I don’t mean to bring race into this but it might sound better coming from a white guy.” Glenn says so T-Dog says “I did what I did. Hell if I’m gonna hide from him.” “We could lie.” Amy suggests causing Andrea to say “Or tell the truth. Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he’d have gotten us killed. Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody’s fault but Merle’s.” “And that’s what we tell Daryl? I don’t see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?” Dale asks Andrea before looking around at the others and adds “Word to the wise…..We’re gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt.” Glenn looks at me but I shake my head so he doesn’t say anything. “I was scared and I ran. I’m not ashamed of it.” T-Dog says causing Andrea to ask “We were all scared. We all ran. What’s your point?” “I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It’s not enough to break through that-not that chain, not that padlock. My point, Dixon’s alive and he’s still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That’s on us.” T-Dog says getting up and leaving. Slowly the others left to go to their beds, leaving me alone with Glenn. “You could share my tent. So you don’t have to sleep on the ground or on top of that van.” Glenn tells me. I sigh as I watch the embers of the fire start to go out and hear thunder in the distance before nodding.

****time skip till morning****

I was cleaning my bow on top of the van again as it was a good vantage point to watch the group do their chores. Glenn was upset that Dale and Jim took apart the sports car for parts and gas so he wasn’t doing much but watch them take it apart. Shane had just come back with the water when a woman screamed followed by the kids screaming for their parents, I quickly grabbed an arrow and jumped off the van running towards the screams. I got there as Jacqui pulled them back from the walker eating a deer that had arrows sticking out of it and led them away. I notched my arrow and aimed it at the walker as the guys ran up, finally, and made a semi-circle around it. I stepped back as they started to beat it so I didn’t get caught in the crossfire, with their stupidity it was a possibility, but kept my bow ready and aimed if needed. Dale decapitated it with an ax and says “It’s the first one we’ve had up here. They never come this far up the mountain.” “Well, they’re running out of food in the city, that’s what.” Jim says before a branch snaps and there’s a rustle in the bushes so everyone aims their weapons at the spot ready for whatever it was. A few moments later a guy with a crossbow comes out saying “Son of a bitch. That’s my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this…” as he walks over to the walker and starts to kick it adding “Filthy, disease-bearing, motherless proxy bastard!” “Calm down, son. That’s not helping.” Dale says so the guy who I assume is Daryl then says, while striding towards him “What do you know about it, old man? Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond?” he turns away and starts to pull out his arrows adding “I’ve been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?” I turn and start walking away as Shane says “I would not risk that.” Daryl then sighs and says “That’s a damn shame. I got some squirrel, about a dozen or so. That’ll have to do.” But then I hear the walker opens its mouth so I quickly spin around and shoot it in the head at the same time as the guy does as he asks "Come on, people. What the hell? It’s gotta be the brain. Don’t y’all know nothing?” Without noticing I did so he goes to get his arrow but pauses seeing mine as well. Glenn then looks at me and cheers “T one, walker head zero! T the one stop shop of awesomeness has done it again! If he can’t do it no one can!” I glare at him as the others look at me like I grew another head. As I walk forward to get my arrow back Daryl pulls his and my arrow from the head, wipes them on the ground, and holds mine out to me. I nod as I take it from him and inspect it as it didn’t fly like I wanted. “That was a nice shot. Considering your arrows not the best.” He tells me quietly before walking off towards camp yelling for Merle. ‘Well that went well. But now all hell’s about to break lose.’ I think to myself as I follow the others towards camp.

****Daryl's POV****

While tracking the deer I heard the kids’ screams from camp and picked up my pace, I didn’t care about the others but kids were a different matter. I reach a clearing with everyone pointing their weapon in my direction, a guy I haven't seen before aiming an arrow, that wasn’t the best quality, at me a few feet away from the group but in front of the kids causing something to start to stir in the back of my mind. I then see my deer and a decapitated Walker. “Son of a bitch. That’s my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this…” I yell walking over to the walker and start kicking it adding “Filthy, disease-bearing, motherless proxy bastard!” “Calm down, son. That’s not helping.” Dale tells me so I approach him saying “What do you know about it, old man? Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond?” turning away I start to pull out my arrows adding “I’ve been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?” The guy with the bow turns and starts walking away as Shane says “I would not risk that.” I sigh and tell them “That’s a damn shame. I got some squirrel, about a dozen or so. That’ll have to do.” But then I hear the walker opens its mouth so I shoot it in the head as I say "Come on, people. What the hell? It’s gotta be the brain. Don’t y’all know nothing?” I go to get my arrow put pause seeing another arrow in the walkers head. All of a sudden Glenn cheers “T one, walker head zero! T the one stop shop of awesomeness has done it again! If he can’t do it no one can!” while looking at the guy who is now glaring at him. As he walks forward to get his arrow back I pull both his and my arrow from the head, wipe them on the ground, and holds his out for him. He nods taking it from me and inspects it. ‘He makes a successful shot with a poor arrow. He might be useful for future hunts.’ I think to myself before telling him, quietly so only he could hear, “That was a nice shot. Considering your arrows not the best.”

I then walking off towards camp yelling “Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let’s stew ‘em up.” “Daryl, just slow up a bit I need to talk to you.” Shane says so I stop and ask “About what?” “About Merle. There was a-There was a problem in Atlanta.” He tells me walking in front of me so I look between him and another new guy twice before asking “He dead?” “We’re not sure.” Shane answers so being angry now I yell “He either is or he ain’t!” New guy then walks up to us and says “No easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.” “Who are you?" I ask/yell at him whipping around causing him to pause before saying "Rick Grimes." "Rick Grimes, you got something you want to tell me?” I ask him causing him to tell me “Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He’s still there.” “Hold on. Let me process this. You’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?!” I ask/yell. I see red as he just answers “Yeah.” So I throw the squirrels at him and go to punch him but Shane pushes me down. I pull out my knife and T-Dog yells “Watch the Knife!” I stand up and try to stab Rick but before I know it I'm on the ground with T on top of my chest, his legs on either side of me keeping me in place, my knife in his hands barely touching my neck, and his silver eyes watching my face calmly.

“You’d best let me go!” I yell at him as a feeling I haven’t felt before, but showed up when I first saw him, made itself known in the back of my mind again. He shakes his head and Rick comes over and says “I’d like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?” I don’t reply so he asks again “Do you think we can manage that?” looking at T now, who nods. Rick then says “Yeah.” So T scoots down to where he’s sitting in my lap as I sit up keeping me from getting up to kick Rick’s ass. “What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others.” Rick says but then T-Dog says “It’s not Rick’s fault. I had the key. I dropped it.” “You couldn’t pick it up?” I asked angry. “Well, I dropped it down a drain.” He says and at this T gets up and offers me a hand. “If that’s supposed to make me feel better it don’t.” I say as I get up on my own and start walking towards my tent. I stop when T-Dog says “Well, maybe this will. Look I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn’t get at him. With a padlock.” “It’s gotta count for something.” Rick says so I look around at everyone, except for T as he’s no longer where he was, and say “Hell with all y’all! Just tell me where he is. So’s I can go get him.” “He’ll show you.” Lori says and we all look at her as she adds “Isn’t that right.” Rick nods and says “I’m going back.” I look at him a moment before going to start skinning the squirrels as I wait for him. I then remember that T still had by knife so I look around and I see him on top of the van messing with his arrows. When he sees me coming he jumps off and holds out my knife to me handle first. I take it from him and walk away.

****T’s POV****

I had just gotten back on the top of the truck when Glenn runs past Daryl towards me with my notebook that now had a piece of rope on it making it into a sort of necklace and the words "MUTE, CAN NOT SPEAK" on the cover in big letters. I just stay sitting on the van when Glenn says “Hey, I customized your notebook so you don’t have to carry it and now people will know you don’t speak.” As he waved the thing above his head. I sling my bow and the quiver over my shoulder before I hop off the van. I land next to him and he quickly puts it around my neck and takes off running back to the others before I could hit him. I walk up and stand next to Glenn, smacking the back of his head, just as Shane asks Rick “Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like merle Dixon?” right in front of Daryl who says “Hey, Choose your words more carefully.” “No, I did. Douche bag’s what I meant. Merle Dixon, the guy wouldn’t give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst.” Shane said and at that point I wanted to punch Shane in the face myself when Rick said the words I was thinking “What he would or wouldn’t do doesn’t interest me. I can’t let a man die of thirst, me. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That’s no way for anything to die, let alone a human being." “So you and Daryl, that’s your big plan?” Lori asks. Rick turns to look at Glenn and I asking with his face. I nod but Glenn says “Oh, come on.” Rick then convinces Glenn by saying “You know the way. You’ve been there before, in and out, no problem. You said so yourself. It’s not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I’d feel a lot better with you along. I know she would too.” Motioning to Lori. “That’s just great. Now you’re gonna risk four men, huh?” Shane asks but T-Dog says “Five.” At this Daryl huffs and says “My day just gets better and better, don’t it?” T-Dog counters by saying “You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother’s cracker ass?” “Why you?” Daryl asks so T-Dog answers “You wouldn’t even begin to understand. You don’t speak my language.” “That’s five.” Dale says but Shane jumps in and says “It’s not just five. You’re putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. Come on, you saw that walker. It was here. It was in camp. They’re moving out of the cities. They come back, we need every able body we’ve got. We need ‘em here. We need ‘em to protect camp.”

Rick finally showing some smarts says “It seems to me what you really need most here…are more guns.” “Right, the guns.” Glenn says before Shane asks “Wait. What guns?” “Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns. I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when we got swarmed. It’s just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up.” Rick says so Shane asks “Ammo?” “700 rounds, assorted.” Rick replies. “You went through hell to find us. You just got here and you’re gonna turn around and leave?” Lori says while Carl says “Dad, I don’t want you to go.” “To hell with the guns. Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He’s not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in. Tell me. Make me understand.” Lori says standing up so Rick walks towards her saying “I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy. Lori, if they hadn’t taken me in, I’d have died. It’s because of them and T that I made it back to you at all. They said they’d follow us to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap we did if I don’t warn him.” “What’s stopping you?” she asks so Rick replies “The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped. He’s got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer.” “These are our walkies?” Shane asks so Rick replies “Yeah…” trailing off. “So use the C.B. What’s wrong with that?” Andrea asks so Shane explains “The C.B.’s fine. It’s the walkies that suck to crap. Date back to the ‘70s, don’t match any other bandwidth not even the scanners in our cars.” Lori looks at the ground then back at Rick as he says “I need that bag.” Before walking over and kneeling in front of Carl adding “Okay?” Carl nods so Rick says “All right.” And pats him on the head. I then went with Glenn and Daryl to back up the van. Glenn drove as Daryl and I were in the back. After the van stopped Daryl started pacing back and forth so much that I thought about tripping him but I decide against it and started drawing a picture of Yori to show people when I asked about him, ignoring the conversation going on outside the van. Daryl then honked the horn with his foot and yelled “Come on, let’s go!” As T-Dog is climbing in the van Shane says “Five men, five rounds. What are the odds, huh? Let’s just hope that five is your lucky number, okay?” “God dammit! Stop jinxing me fuckers!’ I yell in my head at them as I glare at them.

After everyone was in the van, T-Dog shut the back as Glenn started driving. A few minutes go by of T-Dog watching me draw before he asks “What are you drawing?” Rick looks back at us and says “I want to know to.” I sigh and flip my half-finished drawing for them to see. Daryl is the first one to speak as he asks “He your brother?” There was a hint of something in his voice that I couldn’t identify so I just nod and T-Dog asks “Where is he?” I look down as Rick says “He doesn’t know for sure. Last he heard he was at the CDC.” “Oh, sorry-“T-Dog start before being cut off by Glenn saying “We’ll find him. Even if we have to walk there.” I was expecting Daryl to say something mean at this as his brother is also missing, well…chained to a roof, so I look up at him but he just looks away from me. We get closer to the city and I’m now half-finished with my drawing of Merle, I figured it would be useful if somehow he wasn’t there anymore, as Daryl looks at T-Dog and says “He better be okay. It’s my only word on the matter.” “I told you the geeks can’t get at him. The only thing that’s gonna get through that door is us.” T-Dog says before Glenn stops the van and says “We walk from here.” So we all get out and start to jog towards the city. When we go through an opening in a fence Rick asks “Merle first, or guns?” I point to Daryl who says “Merle! We ain’t even having this conversation.” As I nod in agreement. “We are. You know the geography. It’s your call.” Rick tells Glenn who says “Merle’s closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first.” We then start jogging again.

*****Time skip*****

We’re in the department store again sticking close together and watching for walkers. Rick’s leading and puts a hand up to stop us then signals for me to take out the walker as my bow is slightly quieter than Daryl’s crossbow. I notch an arrow as I walk in front of him and aim. As Daryl says “Damn. It’s one ugly skank.” I shoot it in the head. I go to get my arrow but Daryl blocks me as a walker comes around the corner and he shoot it in the head. He then nods at me and we go get our arrows and wipe them off, him on his pants me on one of the shirts in the store. We don’t encounter any more walkers as we make our way to the roof. When we get to the top of the stairway T-Dog breaks the lock with bolt cutters and Daryl kicks the door open yelling “Merle! Merle!” as he runs onto the roof but we don’t find Merle only his sawed off hand as Daryl yells “No!” “Well shit.” I write in my notebook and turn it around.

#fanfic #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl x oc #original character

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