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#VEHICLES (ESPECIALLY BIKES WITH ALL THEIR SPOKES) ARE SO HARD TO DRAW
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Words: 3,823 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of suicide, gore, sexuality, fear and anxiety, disturbing imagery, typical TWD stuff A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Y/N heads outside of the walls for a distraction after the distressing day before. She returns in the evening to learn some concerning news.
Your name: submit What is this?
You woke early from fitful sleep plagued with the same old nightmares. It was still dark out and you knew no more sleep would come, so you decided to be productive again. Meat was always scarce, and after the news of Denise the day before, you needed a distraction. Not to mention having to relive old traumas… After quickly dressing, you stepped out on the porch into the cool morning air. Normally you would have asked Daryl if he wanted to join you, but the house across the street was still dark and you hoped that, for once, he was getting some sleep. Though with the events of the previous day, you really doubted it.
You grabbed your bow and headed for the gates. Sasha was on duty and she pulled it open for you with a kind but sad smile as you went out.
You spent all day outside the walls, engrossed in hunting, and it was after dark when you returned, hauling the rabbits with you over your shoulder. Tobin, a longtime Alexandria resident was on gate duty and you thanked him with a nod as you came in. He seemed particularly stoic but you attributed it to the prior day’s events. Denise was beloved by most of the people in town, especially since she had taken over after Pete’s demise… You made your way toward Aaron’s house and saw that the garage light was on and the door was open. You went in, expecting to find Daryl there tinkering on his bike, but the garage was empty and Daryl’s bike was distinctly missing. He must have parked it outside his place. You knocked on the door into the house and Eric answered it with Judith in his arms. You greeted them both with a smile but Eric’s face was grave and he was white as a sheet.
You throat tightened and your stomach dropped when you registered his expression. “What’s the matter?”
He gulped and stepped back to let you inside. “Have you been out all day?” he asked you.
“Yeah. Since before the sun was up,” you said, gesturing to the rabbits over your shoulder. Your heart started racing. “Eric—what’s going on?”
He shook his head and opened him mouth to speak but no sound came out. Turning on his heel he walked further inside and set Judith down on a blanket on the floor before he faced you again. “It’s—It’s bad,” he said seriously. “Carol left.”
Your brow contracted. “Left? What do you mean she left? Why? For how long?” Your thoughts immediately turned to Daryl. He and Carol were very close. You were sure he was worried, angry. He’d probably try to go after her.
“She left a note. I—I don’t think she’s coming back,” Eric said softly.
You paused for a moment. “Did Daryl go after her?”
“Rick and Morgan did. Daryl was already gone when they headed out.”
You stomach lurched and your head spun. “Gone—Gone where?”
Eric just stared at you.
Your breathing was speeding up. “Gone where?”
He averted his eyes and shrugged. “Best guess is back to where… it happened. To try and track them.”
You felt like you had been punched. “No. No, no, no,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Eric. “I—no. He can’t.” You tried to heave in a breath but your lungs felt tight. “I need to sit down,” you gasped, practically collapsing into a nearby chair as your knees felt like they were giving out.
“Glenn, Michonne, and Rosita went after him this morning,” he said quickly. Your eyes shot up to his face.
“Okay…” You waited expectantly for more details.
“But—they left early and none of them are back yet.” He looked mortified that he had to be the one to unload all this information on you.
You hung your head into your hands. “Oh my God. No… Fuck! Shit!” You stood up abruptly, the brace of rabbits forgotten and paced the length of the kitchen. “Okay. Okay. So, I’ll get some of the others and—and we’ll go look for them. Right? I’ll go find them and we’ll bring them back,” you said, more to yourself than Eric.
He winced, his expression regretful, anxious. “There’s… there’s something else.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Isn’t that enough?!”
He grimaced. “Rick came back after he and Morgan went out. They think Carol had a run in with some of the Saviors not too far from here. Morgan stayed out to follow her trail. They think she might be hurt but they don’t know. But when Rick came back—Maggie is sick. Very sick.”
“Sick how?”
“She—she thinks something with the baby. She was in a lot of pain… Rick loaded everyone up to get her to Dr. Carson at The Hilltop.”
You mind was whirring. “Okay. Okay…” You sat there, trying to process all this, wringing your hands. “Goddammit!” you said, taking your head in your hands again. “What the hell?!” You looked up at Eric desperately. “Who all went to Hilltop?”
“Pretty much everyone. Aaron went. And they took Eugene to get treated too since he was awake. I volunteered to stay here and watch Judith.”
You stood up and paced the length of the room. “Goddammit, what the hell is Daryl thinking!? I told him! I told him not to—” You broke off, gritting your teeth. Your hands clenched into fists. You turned over your conversation with Daryl the night before. You realized he had never said he wouldn’t go after The Saviors who had killed Denise. You now realized he’d been very specific about which words he spoke.
Eric shrugged vaguely. “I know. But—he’s…”
You sighed and shut your eyes, pinched the bridge of your nose hard in an attempt to ground yourself with something. “I know.” You looked back at Eric desperately again. “What do we do?”
He shrugged, at a loss for words now. “I think there’s only one thing we can do.”
Your jaw clenched. “Wait.”
_ _ _ _ _ _
And you waited. And you waited. And you waited. You weren’t good at waiting, even in the best of times. You refused to sleep. You refused to eat. You stood watch at the top of the gate and stared into the darkness which became dawn which became mid-morning. Still there was no sign of anyone. Everything was too quiet. You felt more and more nauseous by the minute, your stomach turning with anxiety.
Finally, a vehicle came into view in the distance. You raised the scope of your rifle to your eye. The RV. It was the RV. You continued to watch as it approached and you could see that it was Rick driving. You finally lowered the scope and the nauseous feeling in your stomach changed to a hard pit.
He stopped at the gate and raised a hand to signal that it was alright to open the gate. You climbed down and yanked it open, letting him drive through. The back of the RV had barely cleared the gate when he shut off the engine. You rushed to await whatever was to come, but you had a feeling like pins and needles prickling up your spine and a heavy weight on your chest. It was hard to draw air.
The door opened and people began to step out. But their faces… they weren’t themselves anymore. They were changed.
You knew that look; that wide-eyed, hundred-yard stare, the terror in their eyes. You had seen it on yourself, on your brother, on many others after they tangled with Negan. You knew what it meant. And there seemed to be a lot of people missing. Your people missing. You forced in a breath and just watched as they stepped out. Who was there and who was missing? Rick came around from the other side, and if possible, he looked worse than all of them.
“Rick…” you said, rushing over. He hardly seemed to hear you. “Rick!” You grasped his shoulders and his blue eyes, frantic and wide landed on your face.
“Judith?” he rasped, in a fog.
“She’s fine. She’s with Eric. Rick,” your voice broke off. You glanced at everyone who was pouring out of the RV, trying to take attendance.
“You were right,” he said, nodding almost imperceptibly. Tears were welling up in his eyes. “You were right. You were…” he trailed off.
Your eyes landed on Michonne and Rosita as they stepped out of the RV. “Daryl?” you demanded. You squeezed Rick’s shoulders to bring him back to you. “Daryl?!?” you urged.
He looked away down at his boots. His answer came in a whisper you almost couldn’t hear. He couldn’t look at you while he said it. “They have him.”
The breath was ripped from your lungs and your hands slipped from Rick’s shoulders. You staggered backwards, reeling. Suddenly Carl was there and he grasped your arm firmly. When you took in his expression, you were amazed that he looked better than anyone else. Of course he did. He’d grown up in this screwed up world during his formative years—he’d been at the prison when it fell, he’d had to put down his own mother… You, on the other hand, were spinning.
“He’ll be okay,” Carl said. “Daryl’s strong. He’ll fight.”
You shook your head. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Suddenly Aaron was beside you. You’d never seen him look worse. He was as white as a sheet and shaking. His eyes were wide, red, and puffy.
“Oh my God,” you launched yourself at him, grabbing him into a tight hug and unable to stop the tears from pouring down your face. “Oh my God.” He hugged you back weakly. You pulled back and looked at him, clasping his face in your hands. “You’re okay. You’re okay,” you said, doing your best to reassure him.
“I’m sorry,” he said weakly, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey! Stop it. Stop. Everything—everything is going to be f—fine,” you said, pulling yourself back together while he was going to pieces. “You’re okay. Eric is okay.” You released your hold on your dear friend and nodded. “Go see Eric. Go home.” Aaron gave you another fearful and concerned look but you simply wiped the tear streaks from your cheeks and nodded. “I’m fine. Go home.”
You spun around again to look at the rest of the ragged group and started mentally going through the list of people who had gone out. “Maggie?!” you demanded suddenly.
“She’s at Hilltop,” Carl said. “Sasha stayed there, too.”
Your brow drew down low over your eyes. Something about that statement struck you as odd. “And Glenn?”
Now Carl looked away, and you could see light glistening in his eyes.
“No. No… Oh my God. No.” You put a hand out and had to lean on the RV, at risk of collapsing from the lightheadedness that flooded your brain.
Carl looked at you with a mixture of devastated and angry tears in his eyes. Your hand flew to cover your mouth and tears broke loose and streamed down your face again. You again glanced at the people wandering away toward Rick’s house. Michonne. Eugene. Rosita. Your eyes shot back to Carl, a sense of apprehension almost overwhelming you. “A—Abraham?”
Again, Carl shook his head.
He turned away from you, leaving you spinning, and grasped his dad’s arm. “Dad. Come on. Let’s go see Judith.”
You felt like you were going to be sick.
_ _ _ _ _ _
“I’ll go.”
Rick stared at you. “I—I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You aren’t asking,” you countered.
“I’ll go myself. I—”
“You’ve got kids. You’ve got a baby. Hell, you’ve got a whole town to look after now, Sheriff Grimes. And you need to get ready because they are coming. They’ll expect you to be here. You’re the leader. Just—I’ll go.” Rick watched the muscle in your jaw twitch. “You know I have to go.”
Rick heaved a sigh. He knew you’d go regardless of whether or not he wanted you to. He knew you did have to go. This was you and this was Daryl. “How?” he asked you. “How are you gonna get him back?”
“Don’t worry about that. That’s my job. I know more about Negan and that place than anyone. I will get him out. I promise you. I will get Daryl out.”
Rick let out a long slow exhale, with an edge to it like a growl. “I don’t suppose I have any real choice in the matter anyway,” he said.
“You don’t.”
Rick sighed again, rubbing a hand over the heavy stubble on his face.
“Rick, listen to me. They are going to come and the first thing they are going to do is take all your weapons and all your ammo. That inventory Olivia keeps of the armory? Burn it. And take some of the guns and ammo, just enough so they won’t suspect anything, and hide them outside the walls. Outside. If you hide them in here, they will find them. And when they do, someone else will die.”
Rick gulped and nodded. He felt like an icy hand had seized his heart in his chest. “Alright.”
“And there’s one more thing… Negan and his assholes—they cannot know that we are connected. Do you understand? You need to make sure that no one ever mentions me, okay? Like I don’t exist.”
Rick gave you a questioning look but nodded.
You gulped at the constriction in your throat. “I’ll tell you everything at some point but right now I need to go. I don’t want Daryl there a minute longer than he has to be. You understand everything?”
Rick nodded gravely. “Yeah. I’ve got it.” He hesitated. “Be careful.”
“I will.” You turned on your heel and went home to prepare.
_ _ _ _ _ _
You were concealed in the woods outside the nearest Savior outpost. It had taken you far longer to get there than you had hoped and you’d had to go pretty dark to find it… You killed more Saviors, but not all of them. Some you had kept alive for a little while, until they had given up their information on the location of the satellite outposts and lookouts. You glanced down at your jeans and t-shirt. They were filthy but still a bit too well kept. You wiped the walker blood on the blade of your knife on your shirt and then took the edge of it to your clothes, placing a rip here and poking a hole there. You looked at your arms. They were scratched and bruised from fighting your way through the woods, through walkers, through soldiers of The Saviors to get here. Good. You wanted it to look like you were having a shit time. You heaved in one last breath; your heart pounded. You were terrified, but the thought of Daryl being held by them sent an urgent shot of fearlessness through you. It had already been too long. You didn’t allow yourself to run through the what ifs… You gritted your teeth and stepped out of the woods, approaching the front of the outpost with your hands up.
The two guards in front saw you immediately. “Freeze! Don’t move!” Automatic weapons pointed at you.
You obeyed. They approached.
“Holy shit,” one of the men said as they got closer. He exchanged a look with the other.
“Son of a bitch,” the second man said matter-of-factly. “You gave us quite the run around, little lady. Negan had whole crews out looking for you.”
Your chest was heaving with nervous breaths. “I—I know. I made a mistake,” you muttered. You didn’t have to try to sound scared. You were. There was a quiver in your voice, but you knew it would work to your advantage. You wanted them to see you as helpless, scared.
“A big one,” the first man agreed. “Search her,” he said, nodding to his associate. He trained his gun on the center of your chest.
The second man frisked you, lingering a little too long with his hands on your body. He removed your knife from the sheath at your hip and clicked his tongue. “Damn. Too bad we can’t have some fun with her first,” he said, hungry eyes wandering over your body and back up to your face.
Revulsion twisted your stomach.
“Too bad,” the other agreed. “But you know what Negan said. She goes straight to him. What do you want? Why are you here?” he pressed.
“I—I want to come back,” you said quietly. “I can’t stay out here…”
This drew chuckles from them. “Negan was right,” one said to the other. “He called it.” He pressed the muzzle of his gun into your back. “Walk slow. Toward the building.”
“I’ll call it in. Damn, is he gonna be surprised. Might even throw us a bonus for bringing her in.” He raised his radio to his lips. “This is Rich at satellite outpost Beta-2. Repeat, this is Rich at outpost Beta-2. Anyone copy?” There was a brief burst of static before another voice responded through the speaker.
“I copy Rich. This is D at Sanctuary. What do you need? Over.”
“We’ve recovered a wanted individual who fled Sanctuary. How would you like us to proceed? Please advise. Over.”
There was another pause. The other man grabbed your wrists roughly and zip-tied them together behind your back, cruelly tight.
“Who do you have?” came the voice again.
“We’ve got Y/N.” He said it with relish and his eyes flew to your face again, a small smirk on his face.
The pause this time was even longer and your stomach turned. What if this wasn’t going to play out as you thought it would? What if he just decided to kill you? Then Daryl may never get out… Finally, the voice responded again. “Negan wants her brought here to Sanctuary immediately. Secure her and get her here now.”
It was done. You were going back.
You were thrown roughly into the back seat of a truck and once you were in, they zip-tied your ankles together too. The whole ride, the man in the passenger seat stared at you while he spun your knife with the point stuck down into the center console. Your heart never slowed from its sprinting in your chest.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you saw the familiar building coming into view and the truck stopped at the double doors. The man in the passenger seat cut the zip-tie around your ankles and soon you were roughly pulled out of the back of the truck by the elbow. You were pushed toward the double doors and forced inside. The sounds, the smell of the place brought memories flooding back to you and you began to feel lightheaded as you were herded up the stairs. You were met at the top by two of Negan’s apparent lieutenants, Simon and Dwight.
Simon was glaring at you and his nostrils flared. “Well, looky what the cat dragged in, Dwight.” He let out a low whistle. “What can I do for you, Y/N? Oh, and may I just say that you look like shit.”
You gulped at the lump in your throat. “I want to talk to Negan,” you said quietly. You glanced at Dwight beside Simon and that’s when you noticed that most of the left side of his face and ear were horrifically scarred—burned. When you had been at Sanctuary, Dwight and his wife and her sister were workers with you and your brother. You had gathered from what Daryl said that Dwight had escaped and ended up going back. Now he had moved up to being one of Negan’s right-hand men.
You let out a gasp as Simon backhanded you across the face hard. You tasted blood from a split in your bottom lip. “Of course, you want to see the big man,” he growled, stepping right up into your face. “You’ll see him when we say you can see him.” Simon grabbed you roughly by the elbow and dismissed the two men who had brought you in from the outpost. “Let me escort you to your accommodations, Y/N. I reckon you’ll find them familiar.” Soon you were in front of a metal door with a ‘#1’ painted on it; the cell you’d been held in when you’d first been brought to The Sanctuary with your group. Simon’s grip on your arm was like a vice. He smirked as he yanked the door open and shoved you inside, into the blackness. “Enjoy,” he snarked. “I’ll be sure to have fresh towels and the room service menu sent right up.”
“Simon—” you started, but you were cut off when he slammed the heavy door in your face, leaving you now in complete darkness.
Fuck. Was this what Negan had said to do with you? You had a hunch it wasn’t… Simon was a prick. He was volatile. You were willing to bet that he had taken it on himself to teach you a little lesson before taking you to see Negan. The zip ties on your wrists were cutting into you and it was nearly impossible to get comfortable with your arms pinned behind your back the way they were. You shifted your position on the floor and tried to alleviate some of the pressure.
You had no idea how long you sat there in the darkness, but it was at least several hours before you heard voices and boot steps on the other side of the door. You pressed your back into the wall and managed to stagger up to your feet. When the door cracked open, the light coming in even from just the dim overhead lights in the hall seemed blinding and you winced. At first all you could see were silhouettes in front of you.
But as they came into focus and your eyes adjusted you saw that it was Simon and Dwight, this time followed by the man himself, Negan… complete with leather jacket and his signature baseball bat slung over his shoulder.
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selenium-drive · 3 years
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Stay Gold Chapter 9: Sacrifice
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TW: Death, depictions of violence
Words: 12.4k
Series rating: Explicit
The remaining twenty minute long walk to the town under the rule of the Empire was filled with uneasy silence due to the nervousness the group felt about their spur of the moment plan, and the rising anxiety Aurelia felt the longer she was held "prisoner". Though they hated to admit it, Mando and Cara knew the visible discomfort she expressed made for a very convincing display of Mando himself and Aurelia as captured enemies. True unease was difficult to fake.
They approached the gates of the city where two Stormtroopers, one of which was lounging about on his speeder bike, guarded the entrance. "I have gifts for the boss," Karga motioned to both captive hunters. Aurelia did her best to stifle her nerves and keep her head down, remembering that she was indeed on a mission of great import. She doubted anyone from the Empire would know exactly who she was based on first glance; she herself had not interfered with Imperial affairs in the past, but her striking eyes had the potential be a dead giveaway as to what her bloodline was. She couldn't remember if Nevarro was one of the many planets her father had visited and included in his stories of victories against the Empire. If any of these Troopers stationed in this town had ever gone up against him, surely they wouldn't of even been kept alive to tell the tale. Still, word travels fast, especially when it comes to a problem that has to be dealt with. Her father and his crew had many, many enemies. It wouldn't surprise her if the warlord client once heard of a rebel Kage that used to meddle in their work. If that were the case, perhaps he would be able to recognize his daughter. After all, how many Kage lived outside the caves of Quarzite? Not many.
The Trooper posted at the gate scanned Karga's chain code and walked with them down the dusty streets crawling with even more Imperial soldiers. Both Cara and Aurelia couldn't help the burning hatred for such pests. It took all the self-discipline they had not to start picking off the mindless troops right then and there.
"You said four," Cara whispered harshly, her eyes darting from helmet to helmet of each enemy soldiers that passed by. "There are more than four Troopers."
"Four guarding the client," Karga fired back. "There are many more here in town. Things got really heated once Mando crashed the safe house."
"You did what?" Aurelia elbowed the Mandalorian walking alongside her.
"I told you before," he whispered, stooping down more to her level, "I wasn't proud that I took a job from an Imp. That, and they wanted to hurt the kid."
They turned into an alleyway, the sudden change from the wider, open street to a more private, closed off space making Aurelia more anxious than before. She wouldn't put it past the Stormtrooper guiding them to turn around and execute them here on the spot. They kept walking, however, until they reached a large wooden doorway near the end of the alley.
"Here we are," Karga said, beckoning them to follow him inside. The Trooper that led them to the meeting room joined up with three others who stood guarding an elegantly dressed elderly man. The Guild leader subtly nodded towards the rest of the soldiers in the room. "You see? Four."
Karga falsified the best smile he could. "Look what I brought you, as promised," he said triumphantly to the warlord, gesturing towards the Mandalorian and company.
The client approached Mando, extending his arm out to brush the back of his hand against the cool, polished steel chest plate and helmet. "What exquisite craftsmanship. It is amazing how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans." He turned his attention back to Karga. "Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?" Mando stood still; from an outsider's perspective, he would've appeared uncaring or laid back. Aurelia knew him better than that. She knew how dangerous Mando could be when he was deceptively calm. He hated the audacity of this man for thinking he could lay a putrid hand on his armor, even if he was the one who supplied the Mandalorian with the steel to craft it.
"Please sit," the client directed after eliciting a nod from Karga. "It is a shame that your people suffered so," the Imp continued, taking a seat at a nearby round table. "Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable. Why did Mandalore resist our expansion? The Empire improves every system it touches. Judge by any metric. Safety. Prosperity. Trade. Opportunity. Peace..."
His rambling stopped when his eyes traced over the group seated across from him. He locked onto Aurelia, taking notice of her bright golden stare burning with anger. "Do you not agree with me, child?" He reached over Mando and Karga to brush the side of her face gingerly with his hand. Mando felt his body go rigid. If he weren't in such a vulnerable situation, he would've snapped the man's fingers in half one at a time.
Alongside him, Aurelia began to panic. Dank farrik, she knew she should've kept her eyes down. Her heart beat faster, praying to any gods out there that she wouldn't be recognized in any way. Her stubbornness and submissiveness battled with each other; she hated this man already and didn't want to back down and appear weak, but the knew the longer she looked into his own eyes, the higher the chance someone might know who she was.
"Such an odd thing, you are," he said curiously. "Yet, the hatred I feel you sending my way is the same as any other human or sentient species I've come into contact with before. You are all so blind as to what good the Empire can offer to you. Compare Imperial rule to what is happening now. Look outside, child. Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but death and chaos. The hardened stares from all of you only confirms to me that this is all you've seen, all you know as well. It's such a pity, is it not? The Empire wishes to change all of that, and now we have what we need to do it." He released his soft hold on her, Aurelia letting out a deep breath she didn't even know she was holding in once he stepped back towards The Child's bassinet. "I would like to see the baby."
"Uh...it is asleep," Karga stammered a little unconvincingly. Thankfully, the client still somehow believed him.
"We all will be quiet, just open the pram."
Cara tensed up, desperately fighting the urge to draw her blaster and kill the Imp before it was too late and their cover was blown. She looked to Karga for some kind of clue as to what the next move would be, but his wide eyed stare of his own uncertainty did nothing to provide her any consolation. As ironic as it was, a Stormtrooper happened to become their knight in shining armor. He stepped besides the client and whispered a few incomprehensible words into his ear.
"Don't think me to be rude," the elderly Imperial man apologized, "I must take this call."
He turned his back to the high-strung group still seated at at table. One of the Troopers placed a portable hologram communication pad on the bar's countertop, a bright blue glow emitting from in front of the warlord while he spoke to another unknown figure of authority.
Aurelia suppressed a flinch and almost slammed the tops of her knees into the underside of the table when she felt the outside of her knee inadvertently brushed by the back of Mando's hand when he maneuvered himself free of the confines of the bracers. She tried to suppress the blush forming on her cheeks when he slid the cuffs up onto her lap, the cool metal dragging slowly across the fabric of her pants. He reached across her lap and quickly undid her own restraints, setting both pairs of cuffs on her thighs.
"Hold these," he whispered, completely oblivious to fact of her sudden bashfulness due to his unexpected motions. "Give me the blaster," he motioned to Karga underneath the table.
"You've got one shot," he warned the bounty hunter.
Cara's short fuze was fizzling out. "This is bad. You said four."
Karga shot her a glare over his shoulder. "Well, there are more. What can I tell you?"
"Cara, my blaster," Aurelia whispered, her eyes scouring the room for any Stormtrooper who might be watching.
"Here. I'll give you everything else later," the dropper said hurriedly, slipping the small gun into Karga's hands. It traveled down the row from the Guild leader to the Mandalorian; the second it passed from Mando's leather gloves to Aurelia's fingerless gauntlets, the sound of shattering glass and rapid blaster fire erupted all throughout the common house. Mando kicked the table they were seated around over in an attempt to provide some sort of cover while they dove to the ground, crawling alongside the broken bits of glass, building wreckage, and Imperial bodies. They sought protection hugged tightly against the wall next to an elongated window where the countless shots were being fired though.
"Four Stormtroopers?" Cara shouted, knocking Karga roughly on the shoulder.
"Obviously there's more than kriffing four!" Aurelia swore angrily over the barrage of gunfire. The sudden onslaught took care of the issue of the client and the Troopers guarding him, but now there was a whole other, much worse, predicament at hand. When the dust had settled and the firing had stopped, the corned group snuck a peak out of the obliterated window behind the bar. An Imperial firing squad was the reason behind the attack, and transport vehicles full of more Troopers were joining their ranks. A few foot soldiers came flooding in from the streets, lining up with the rest and taking aim on the building Mando and the others took refuge in.
"This is bad." Cara grimaced. "Mando, we need to get out of here, now! If we get caught by them, then..." she shuddered at the thought.
He kept quiet but Aurelia could tell by the way his fingers clenched under his leather gloves that he was trying hard to map put their next move. He let out a huff and grabbed his commlink.
"Kuiil, are you back to the ship yet? Are you there? Do you copy?"
"Yes!" A strained voice came through, barely audible over the loud galloping of his blurrg.
"Are you back to the ship yet?"
"Not yet!"
"Get back to the ship and bail!" Mando exclaimed, hitting his fist up against the wall in pent up adrenaline. "Get the kid out of here. We're pinned down!"
"You have something I want," a male's voice rang out from the crowd of Stormtroopers.
"Who is this guy?" Cara motioned to an unseen figure outside the window. Mando paid her no attention. He tried speaking through the commlink once more.
"Kuiil, are you back to the ship yet? They're on to us. Kuiil, come in!" The growing sense of urgency in his voice made Aurelia start to panic. She tried to control her thoughts from assuming the absolute worse.
"Kuiil, do you copy?! Kuiil!"
Cara picked up on her growing level of anxiety. "He's fine," Cara attempted to reassure her. "He's probably boarding the ship right now. Just give him another minute and you'll see."
"Kuiil... Are you there?!"
"Yes, yes give him...give him a minute," Aurelia repeated uneasily.
"Come in, Kuiil! Kuiil, come in!" Mando glanced knowingly at her. He didn't have to say what either of them were thinking. Surprisingly, the non-existent expression that was still somehow evident through his helmet gave her the answer she didn't want to hear most of all.
"No, no give him a second! He just needs a second. He's fine! He's okay! They're okay!" Aurelia cried out. Her hands began to tremble and her eyes watered the more she felt the Mandalorian look on her with pity. Finally, he dropped his hand that was holding the commlink.
"No no no no! DON'T. DON'T!" Aurelia scrambled away from the bounty hunter when he slowly bent down and reached one hand out to hold her in place. "DON'T. TOUCH ME. NO! YOU CALL HIM AGAIN."
"Stop it! Dank farrik, pull it together!" Mando shot his hands forward and gripped both of her wrists tightly. He snatched her up, bringing her face closer to his helmet and shook her firmly. "We don't know what happened, but you have to focus on what's happening right here, right now."
The look of both terror and utter devastation broke the Mandalorian's spirit. He frowned heavily, hoping he didn't further upset her any. The only thing he could think of to do at that moment was place his hand gently on the top of her head. "Breathe, ad'ika. Just...breathe."
A small tear managed to escape from out over her lash line. It trailed down what small portion of skin she had exposed beneath her eyes, then absorbed into the cotton threads of her scarf. "He's dead, Mando."
"We don't know that for certain," he told her, his voice trying to sound soothing despite the blaring uncertainty seeping through. "We have to get out of here, then we'll find them. But first, I need you to focus."
"Is there another way out?" Cara asked.
Karga shook his head. "No, that's it."
"What about the sewers?" Mando asked, hoisting Aurelia up to her feet. Karga shrugged and looked at him unknowingly, leaving Mando to further elaborate. "The Mandalorians have a covert down in the sewers. If we can get down there, they can help us escape. Is there an entrance to them in here somewhere?"
"Guys, something's happening outside," Aurelia said shakily.
Cara peaked her head around the side of the window, her breathing intensifying and her mouth hanging wide open when she saw a team of Troopers assembling a massive firearm. It was something she recognized from her days of military service, and she knew it didn't mean good news for herself or her comrades.
"They're setting up an E-Web."
Karga backed against the wall I'm disbelief at the fate that was about to befall those in the common house. His legs threatened to give out from the sudden wave of grief that washed over him. "It's over," he whispered in defeat.
"Not yet," Mando pointed towards a bench situated up against a nearby wall. "I found the sewer vent."
"Then let's get the hell outta here," Cara ordered.
Everyone grabbed the corners of the bench, pushing and pulling it back to reveal a heavy, iron vent securely fastened in place. In a profound sense of urgency and desperate for a means of an escape, Cara fired her blaster in an attempt to weaken the bolted on metal bearings securing the grate to the wall. The thick metal remained securely in place, seemingly untouched.
"It's not working! We need something else!" She cried out in frustration.
"Hang on, move out of the way." Aurelia pushed past her and fired both of her grappling hooks in-between the cracks of the vent. The hooks opened up, securing themselves in place on the other side of the grate. "I'll pull, you fire. Maybe we can loosen it."
Cara shook her head in protest. "Those aren't going to be sturdy enough. They're just going to snap!"
"No, they won't," Mando spoke up. "It's beskar. It can take it."
He crept up behind Aurelia, admiring the polished silver cables and hooks coming out from her gauntlets. "You still never told me where you got those from," Mando said from over her shoulder. "Beskar steel belongs to the Mandalorians."
She chuckled darkly and widened her stance, preparing to put all of her strength into pulling back against the bolted in screws that separated the crew from freedom. "That's another story for another day, if we survive this one, that is."
Cara shot her blaster along the edges of the vent, hoping that in all the barrage of rounds she was firing off, maybe at least a few would weaken the integrity of the solid metal that prevented their escape. "It's not...working!" She shouted over the repetitive blasts.
Aurelia pulled back harder, cursing her lack of strength. Her wrists felt like they were going to snap and her forearms heavily ached from the cables pulling against her skin and muscles.
Mando stepped directly behind her and proceeded to wrap the beskar infused wiring around his own arm braces. The sudden, unexpected body contact caused Aurelia to lurch forward slightly, stopping her efforts of pulling against the grate.
"Keep going, ad'ika," Mando grunted, yanking back hard on the grappling hook's wires back in additional support. The sturdy cables and hooks withheld under the strength of their combined effort to pry the grate from the wall; the vent creaked and groaned under pressure but still held tight in place.
Cara set down her firearm in defeat after a few more passing moments of no success. "That's it," she said breathlessly. "It's over."
"Your astute panic suggests that you understand your situation," a male voice smugly spoke up from outside in the plaza. Aurelia detached herself hooks from the grate, her exhausted arms loosely hanging at her side. She turned her attention to the stranger addressing them, noticing a menacing looking military official standing in front of the rows of Imperial soldiers. "I would prefer to avoid any further violence, and encourage a moment of consideration," he continued. "Members of my escort have completed assembly of an E-Web heavy repeating blaster. If you are unfamiliar with this weapon, I am sure that Republican Shock Trooper Carasynthia Dune of Alderaan will advise you that she has witnessed many of her ranks vaporize mid-descent facing the predecessor of this particular model."
Cara stumbled back, clearly shaken by the knowledge the man standing on the other side of wall possessed. "H-how does he know-"
"Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore, when gunships outfitted with similar ordinance laid waste to fields of Mandalorian recruits in The Night of a Thousand Tears."
"Don't think I overlooked you, Aurelia Vandorack," Moff Gideon continued proudly. She shot a worried expression towards Mando, panic beginning to set once she heard her full name. "I know of the crimes that your father, Kodo Vandorack, and his pathetic cluster of rebellious abominations, committed against the Empire in its glory days. You might think that the many years of servitude you've experienced at the hands of Tattooine bandit, Darro Obrik, was enough torment, but wait until you see what I have in store for you. You'll wish you were on Quarzite, being slowly crushed in weight of its uninhabitable atmosphere, regretting the day you sided with these people."
"Don't listen to him," Mando warned her. "He's trying to get in your head. He plays mind games, Aurelia. Don't let him win."
"I advise disgraced Magistrate Greef Karga to search the wisdom of his years and urge you to lay down your arms and come outside. The structure you are trapped in will be razed in short order and your storied lives will come to an unceremonious end."
"What do you propose?" Karga sputtered to the man seemingly in charge.
"Reasonable negotiation."
"What assurance do you offer?"
"If you're asking if you can trust me...you cannot," Moff Gideon said flatly. "Just as you betrayed our business arrangement, I would gladly break any promise and watch you die at my hand. The assurance I give is this: I will act in my own self-interest, which at this time involves your cooperation and benefit. I will give you until nightfall, and then I will have the E-Web cannon open fire."
"I don't trust him," Aurelia told the others. "He'll fire on us whenever he choses. I don't believe this man to be generous enough to give us more than a few hours and risk us coming up with a decision or plan an escape."
"This isn't just anyone. I know who he is," Mando spoke up. "It's Moff Gideon."
"No. Moff Gideon was executed for war crimes," Karga disagreed.
Mando shook his head. "It's him. He knew my name."
"So? What does that prove?"
"I haven't heard that name spoken since I was a child."
"On Mandalore?" Karga questioned further.
"I was not born on Mandalore."
"But you're a Mandalorian."
"Mandalorian isn't a race," Cara interjected.
"It's a Creed," Mando explained. "I was a foundling. They raised me in the Fighting Corps. I was treated as one of their own. When I came of age, I was sworn to the Creed. The only record of my family name was in the registers of Mandalore. Moff Gideon was an ISB Officer during the purge. That's how I know it's him. He says he needs us, which means The Child got away safely. I was worried when the Ugnaught didn't respond, but if they'd captured the kid, we'd already be dead."
"Maybe Kuill's fine after all," Cara tried to tell Aurelia comfortingly. "Mando, hail them again."
He nodded and brought the commlink to his helmet. "Come in, Kuii." They waited on edge for several seconds but got nothing back but the crackling sound of static.
"They might have jammed the link," Cara noted at the lack of response.
"Kuiil has been terminated," IG's robotic voice broke through the other side of the commlink.
"What did you do?" Mando growled. His eyes shifted under the cover of his visor to scope out Aurelia's reaction. Her stare remained fixed on the rocky debris beneath their feet, completely numb at the news. She had known all along. Even if she tried to convince herself otherwise, she wouldn't of believed anything different.
"I am fulfilling my base function," IG spoke up once more in reply to the Mandalorian.
"Which is?"
"To nurse and protect."
The distant shouts and gunfire of Stormtroopers in combat caused everyone within the vicinity to turn their attention towards the winding street leading to the plaza where the Troopers were stationed.
"Look!" Cara pointed. The intense stillness outside of the common house quickly erupted into a scene of all out war. A speeder bike launched itself into a crowd of several Troopers, smashing them against the walls of surrounding buildings and streets of Nevarro. The IG unit Kuill had reconstructed emerged from besides the wreckage, The Child strapped securely on its back, giggling maniacally and completely unaware of the magnitude of danger it was in.
It took everything Mando had not to run outside and grab The Child from out of harms way. He knew doing such a thing would be a suicide mission. There was no other choice but to fight at this point.
"I need you, Aurelia, a'dika," Mando pleaded quietly but firmly. He tore his gaze from the IG unit currently taking on the vast sea of Troopers to stare at the woman next to him. "I can't do this without you."
"I know," Aurelia smiled sadly. "I let Kuiil down and I'm not letting you or the kid down either." She quickly took her daggers and rifle from Cara who had been holding onto them since they first arrived into town.
Mando darted out from the safety of the building and began taking on the countless number of enemy soldiers gathered in the plaza. Karga and Aurelia followed him closely with their blasters drawn, taking aim on whoever they could. A handful of Stormtroopers rushed the entrance of the building all but Cara had emerged from. One set off a grenade, blasting the door down and creating a gaping hole in the exterior for more Imperial soldiers to rush through.
"Cara!" Aurelia called out after the debris had settled.
"I'm okay!" The dropper coughed violently from inside the building. The sound of continuous blaster fire and the screams of fallen enemy Troopers put Aurelia more at ease knowing the female veteran inside was fully capable of taking care of herself.
"There's too many!" She shouted, throwing one of her daggers into the chest plate of an advancing Stormtrooper. When she heard the fast approaching footsteps of another trying to strike her from behind, she combined the ends of her daggers and twisted, causing the other to jut out and pierce the chest of other soldier trying to sneak up on her.
"Take them out from above! I have an idea!" Mando called out to her, after taking a split second to admire her Stormtrooper shish kebab.
"Cover me!" Aurelia separated the blades and slid them back alongside her waist, then fired her grappling hook into the edge of the stone rooftop belonging to the common room they sought shelter in. She grappled upwards, both Mando and Karga taking out those who tried to shoot her down in the process. When she made it to the top and took cover behind some of the stone on the rooftop, she pulled her rifle from behind her back. From her peripheral vision, she saw Mando make a break for the E-Web cannon stationed untouched in the center of all the chaos. It was then she understood what he wanted her to do. She took out the nearby Troopers who swarmed around the cannon and stood in Mando's way. He dodged their shots in an attempt to stop him from using their detrimental weapon to his own advantage, thanking the stars his armor was able to safely deflect what rounds he couldn't avoid. Karga and Aurelia provided enough support for him to reach the massive heavy repeating blaster. Her feeling of victory watching the Mandalorian rain down on the Stormtroopers was short lived when two blaster rifle rounds grazed the side of her arms, causing her to fall back and yelp in pain at the sharp burning sensation that stretched along her marred skin. Mando shifted his focus to the Stormtrooper that took aim on his pilot, not paying attention to Moff Gideon who crept up from behind and fired a shot directly into his helmet. Aurelia scrambled to her crouched position, trying to avoid the situation from getting any worse. A few more Troopers blasted the corner of the roof she was taking cover behind, ceasing her aid towards her comrades down below. She tilted her head around the corner to watch helplessly as Mando stabilized himself enough to put Gideon in his line of fire next. The Imp prepared to take aim at the bounty hunter but his eyes shifted last minute to a large metallic box a foot away from where the Mandalorian stood.
"Mando! No!" Aurelia shouted from the rooftop above. Moff Gideon fired a single shot into the E-Web power unit, setting off a massive fireball explosion directly in front of the hunter. The force from the blast was enough to knock the sturdy Mandalorian clean off his feet and fling the cannon out of his hands. Both weapon and wielder landed on the ground with a loud, sickening clang. Karga dragged himself up the wall he had been thrust face first into from the resonating force of the explosion. He turned and fired at the incoming wave of Troopers who managed to survive Mando's onslaught, providing cover for Cara when she emerged from inside the common house to drag Mando's limp body inside. Aurelia dropped down beside them and used her grappling hooks to wrap around Mando's arms to help pull him to safety faster. She detached herself from him when they were inside behind the cover of the bar, Cara busy triaging the downed bounty hunter while Karga and Aurelia continued to take down what Troopers they could from the view of the window. IG had taken it upon itself to laser around the edges of the sewer grate, giving the group one last chance at escaping.
"Mando, I need to take this off," Cara pleaded. She reached up to rest her hands on both sides of his helmet, pausing and letting out a sharp gasp when her fingers met the slickness of his blood that had begun to slowly drip from out underneath his armor. She opened her mouth to speak but struggled to get anything to come out. She cleared her throat and tried to hide the way her voice was on the verge of breaking. "A-Aurelia!"
Aurelia's shattered heart further crumbled at the unmistakable sense of helplessness in Cara's tone. No, absolutely not. She wasn't going through this again. She hung her rifle back on the strap crossing over her chest and ran to wounded the Mandalorian, paying no attention to the rubble and broken bits of glass embedding themselves in her knees when she slid across the floor to his side. Mando gingerly placed his hands over hers, stopping her in her tracks when she placed her palms on the sides of his helmet.
"You have to make sure The Child is safe." He said weakly.
"Mando, no," she began to beg. "We're not going to leave you here. Please, please don't do this to me. Don't make me go through this twice in one day. We have to take this off, right Cara? Then we can help you."
"Please," he pleaded softly. "Just...just listen to me for once. You of all people should kn-know the importance of hiding yourself-"
Aurelia angrily yanked her hands free out from under his. She grabbed the black fabric twirled around her face and neck, ripping it off and throwing it across his chest.
"I hate it when you throw that shit in my face," she said venomously.
The beaten down Mandalorian couldn't come up with a well thought out response. He was too busy scanning over every inch of her face, his heart heavy that she revealed herself for him out of a defiant act of desperation. Maker, she was about to hate him forever.
Mando pulled off his necklace and placed it into the hand of the beautifully flawed woman crouched over him. "When you get to the Mandalorian covert, you show them that." She started to protest but he cut her off completely. "You tell them it's from Din...Djarin. You tell them the foundling was in my protection, and they'll help you."
He closed his eyes tight, praying desperately hard to the Maker and all the stars in the galaxy that he could somehow drown out her screams. "I'm not gonna make it, mesh'la, " he whispered, "and you know it."
Another fiery explosion blasted through the window. He kept talking over all the noise, raising his voice as much as his body would allow. "You protect The Child. I can hold them back long enough for you to escape. Let me have a warrior's death."
"MANDO!"
He paused for a minute, trying to push away the heaviness that weighed his weakened body down. The IG unit kicked in the vent grate just as a cluster of Stormtroopers rushed in. The Child crept forth, holding off the burning flames erupting from an enemy flame thrower. The foundling pushed the Troopers back through the doorway, giving everyone just enough time to flee. The droid scooped up the now exhausted child, shoving him into Aurelia's hands to distract her from the Mandalorian she was leaving behind. She was silent, tearfully looking over at the broken bounty hunter as she clutched his son tight.
"This is the Way," Mando reassured her.
"Come on! It's open, let's go!" Karga motioned for Cara and the others to follow him into the sewers. "We have to move. Now!"
"Go," Mando gasped one last time.
"Escape and protect this child," IG commanded to Aurelia. "I will stay with the Mandalorian."
"Promise me you'll bring him," Cara muttered just so the droid would hear.
"You have my word."
She stared hard at the droid and took off, wrapping an arm around Aurelia to get the stunned Kage woman to advance into the tunnels. "He's going to be fine," Cara tried to convince both herself and the pilot.
The trio continued through the vent until they reached what appeared to be the sewer system the Mandalorian was referring to. A few tunnels branched off from the starting point they had been led to, causing more of a headache rather than any relief that they might of finally been safe. They kept walking down the main walkway to see where it would take them rather than get themselves lost in any of the numerous corridors.
"Aurelia, isn't it?" Karga asked suddenly, eliciting a raised eyebrow in response from the younger woman. "That's your name?"
"Karga..." Cara warned in a low tone.
"What? We were never properly introduced."
"You decide to bring this up now?" The dropper snapped.
"Yes, it is," the raven haired woman answered before the bickering could continue. The hoarseness in her throat was still painstakingly evident from the tears she shed minutes ago.
"Well...I'm sorry for your losses today, Aurelia," he sympathized wholeheartedly.
"Karga!"
"What?!"
"Shhh! Do you hear that?" Aurelia silenced them. They listened closely, the sounds of approaching footsteps becoming more apparent.
The glow belonging to a bight head light bobbed down the sewer walkway several feet behind them. Looking past the white glow, they could make out the familiar looking beskar helmet the flashlight was fixed to. Aurelia's stomach flipped when she saw the weakened silhouette of Mando staggering towards them, barely being held up properly by IG's lanky robotic form. Both Karga and Cara let out heavy sighs of relief and rushed to Mando's side, happy that the droid managed to keep its promise.
"I got him, IG, thank you," Cara told the droid, taking on the weight of the Mandalorian.
"Of course. It is my duty to serve and protect. And Miss Aurelia, I believe this is yours." The IG unit turned to face her once its arms were free. It stiffly extended one claw outwards, releasing its grasp on the scarf she wore but left behind with then the dying bounty hunter. "Do with it as you wish. From my perspective, I do not believe you should be wearing it at all."
"Thank you," she told it somberly. Cara glanced nervously at Mando who was too focused on watching Aurelia secure the black cloth in its usual position. He had noticed that she said nothing to him since the droid brought him back to the others. Honestly, he wasn't sure what kind of reaction his reappearance would elicit from her. He was relieved to see everyone again, even Karga at this point. They still weren't out of danger yet and had to keep a level head in order to get to safety. Why then, was his heart heavier than the beskar he wore when his pilot completely ignored him?
"Do you know which way to go?" Karga asked, trying to redirect everyone's attention to the task at hand.
Mando tried to shake his head but the sudden wave of dizziness stopped him from doing so. "No. I don't know these tunnels. I've only entered from the bazaar. The Imps will catch us before we make it to the ship. We need to find the  Mandalorians so they can escort us to safety."
They wandered aimlessly around the various tunnels, their lack of progress of advancing forwards having themselves wondering if they were backtracking periodically and going in circles.
"This place is a maze," Cara groaned in frustration. She had seen the same rock multiple times now, she knew she had.
Mando rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight back and forth. He had several injuries he sustained from the explosion hadn't been tended to by the IG unit; he could feel patches of dried blood on various parts of his chest, arms, and legs sticking to the inside of flight suit. His head was ringing significantly less and his vertigo had subsided considerably, but no amount of bacta the droid had on him could make the dull, aching, throb that was still present, go away completely. He wouldn't be able to sit down and recover until after the mission was completed entirely, but he was getting fed up with having to be dragged along like a giant burden. "Stop," he told Cara, pulling some of his weight off her and to his own two feet. "I can stand. I have to do something. I'll...I'll try to find tracks that will lead us to the others."
He stumbled around for a minute trying to steady himself, his head tilted low towards the ground and scanning over his surroundings slowly under the tracking settings of his visor. A set of footsteps not belonging to anyone else in the group caught his attention. They ventured further down the tunnels and around one of the corners, possibly leading them to the rest of his covert. Mando motioned for his companions to follow him, his heart beating faster through his armor when the heat signatures became more prominent and fresh looking, signifying that they were closing in on whoever left them behind.
"We're close. Turn here."
The sight that befell the Mandalorian's eyes was enough to make his newly regained strength be sucked completely out from him.
"Oh no," Cara grimaced under her breath once the realization dawned on her as to what exactly they were seeing. In the middle of the walkway lay a pile of worn Mandalorian armor, mostly consisting of forsaken helmets that were apparently left behind by the others. A few busted up pauldrons, thigh coverings, and chest plates were scattered about the ground as well, but to remove one's helmet, according to the Mandalorian creed, meant there was no going back to one's old way. Deserting the armor that was held to such high regards by its wearer meant that Mando's covert had given up their entire way of life.
The lone Mandalorian dropped to his knees in anguish in front of the collection of beskar and metal. Even though almost every square inch of his body was covered, the obscene amount of pain, anger, and confusion he was feeling was still apparent to everyone.
"Mando?" Aurelia spoke up timidly. She still had her strong opinions about how she felt towards him when he had her ripped away from his side as he lay dying, but as hurt as she was, she still couldn't find it in herself to not console her partner.
She approached him slowly, noticing how tense his broad shoulders were, how low he hung his head, and how stiff all the muscles in his arms were. In the few months she had spent with the Mandalorian, she had to learn both his subtle and very obvious changes in his body language to understand what he was feeling at any given time. He was good at masking most emotions in his voice, especially thanks to the vocoder embedded in his helmet, although his occasional frustrated sighs and tones of annoyance still slipped past the beskar from time to time. When his stance was rigid and statuesque, she knew better than to push his buttons or come at him too quickly. The way he looked to her now, well, confronting him would be like poking an angry rancor with a stick. Still, she couldn't bring herself not to try.
"Mando?" Aurelia repeated once more, this time a bit more assertively. He paid her no mind, even when she stood directly over his huddled form. It was only when the tips of her slender fingers brushed against the cape secured around his neck, did he flinch sharply at her touch and stare up at her.
Since IG brought him back to the others, she hadn't once looked his way. He knew he had upset her and caused her emotional grief for practically nothing. She wouldn't outright admit it, but she was far from okay after the passing of Kuiil. The moisture farmer was like a second father figure to her. He was undoubtedly the most important person in her life. Mando wasn't sure how she felt about himself personally, but he safety assumed they had a good friendship developing. She was still timid at times, but they still trusted one another for the most part. Mando knew he crushed what relationship was developing between them the second he had Cara rip her away from his side. He obliterated their trust into millions of pieces of stardust. The pain he felt from seeing the abandoned armor of his people, only deepened when he looked up at Aurelia. He was grateful she had finally acknowledged him, but he felt so unworthy of the concern and honey glow of warmth she had in her deep golden eyes. The fact that she touched him sent his emotions into overdrive. He had no problem touching her when the moment called for it. He made physical contact with a lot of people, though a lot of it wasn't necessarily friendly. It was receiving, though, that he was far from used to. The first time she initiated true physical contact, was when she would clean his wounds. It was a little strange and unfamiliar at first but he didn't mind it. He deemed it viable and there was no meaning behind her touch. This most recent time, however, when he felt her fingertips leave nervous, feather light tracings across his scarred bronze skin, was something new to him. He wouldn't dare tell her that he could still feel her hands ghosting over his back for hours after he put his clothing back on. The gentle feeling of her hand she placed near the base of his neck just now, only reminded him of that surprisingly intimate moment they shared.
Cara cleared her throat to remind the others that despite the unfortunate circumstances at hand, time was of the essence. "We should go," she tried to persuade the rest of the group.
"You go," Mando said monotonously. "Take the ship. I can't leave it this way."
His attention suddenly honed in strictly on Karga. He shot up to his knees, Aurelia stumbling backwards from surprise at his sudden movement.
"Did you know about this?" Mando asked threateningly, swooping in on the Guild leader. "Is this the work of your bounty hunters?"
"What? No!" he cried out. His eyes frantically darted between Cara, Aurelia, and the IG unit watching helplessly on the sidelines. No way were they getting in the middle of the Mandalorian's meltdown. "When you left the system and took the prize, the fighting ended and the hunters just...melted away. You know how it is. They're mercenaries. They're not zealots."
His answer did nothing to settle Mando's dangerous outburst. Aurelia felt herself shrink to the side the more Mando's fury unleashed itself. Never had she seen the stone cold, stoic man show his emotions on his scale.
"Did you do this?" The bounty hunter roared. His deep baritone echoed off the sewer walls, not giving a damn if it brought the Stormtroopers their way. He butted chests with Karga in a primal display of aggression when the man gave him no answer. "Did you?!"
"No!" Karga all but begged for mercy.
"It was not his fault," an unfamiliar female voice rang out behind him. The sound immediately calmed the rabid Mandalorian, his anger doused by her assertive but velvety smooth tone. "We revealed ourselves. We knew what could happen if we left the covert."
She tossed a few of the forgotten pieces of armor onto a cart. Pushing the pile she had collected, she led the travelers towards a large circular room. In the center, appeared to be an old, outdated forge.
"The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter. This is what resulted," she gestured to the strewn out armor.
"Did any survive?" Mando asked hesitantly.
"I hope so. Some may have escaped off-world."
Mando's eyes scanned over the pile of armor knowing it was only him and the Armorer left in the covert. "Come with us."
"No," she rejected firmly. "I will not abandon this place until I have salvaged what remains."
The Armorer tossed a few more pauldrons into the furnace's blue flames. Aurelia watched how easily the seemingly indestructible beskar caved in itself from the burning hot touch of the flames. It bubbled and melted, pooling into the familiar shining silver she knew so well. It was funny how much the properties of the steel armor he wore resembled the Mandalorian himself. Beskar was valuable and very sought after by many. It never chipped, rusted, or blemished despite all who tried to harm it. It was flawless, shining bright and forever polished to perfection. Yet, with one touch of a simple flame, the one thing it was susceptible to, it was reduced to a puddle of gleaming metal. That's all it was after all: just steel.
"Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction," the Armorer's voice commanded.
She walked up to Aurelia, eyeing her silently under the solid black glass visor of her golden Mandalorian helmet. "Is this the one? I sense much fight in her, but yet, much turmoil."
"This is the one," Mando gestured to the infant in her arms.
The Armorer averted her gaze down some, her helmet tilting in amusement at an infant being the sought after person of interest. "This is the one you hunted, then saved?"
"Yes. The one that saved me as well."
"From the mudhorn?"
"Yes."
She paused for a moment, eyes glancing over the worn out, unconscious child. "It looks helpless."
"It's injured, but it is not helpless. Its species can move objects with its mind."
"I know of such things. The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore the Great and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers."
Mando felt uneasy, almost too afraid to ask her to elaborate. "It is an enemy?"
"No. Its kind were enemies, but this individual is not."
The sudden pit in his stomach disappeared. He kept his sigh of relief strictly to himself. "What is it?" Mando asked.
"It is a foundling. By Creed, it is in your care."
"You wish me to train this thing?"
The Armorer shook her head. She turned her attention back to the molten beskar she had melted down in the furnace. "It is too weak; it would die. You have no choice but to reunite it with its own kind."
"You expect me to search the galaxy for the home of this creature and deliver it to a race of enemy sorcerers?" Mando felt stupid for allowing such a sentence to pass his lips. It sounded absurd, all of it. A baby with magical powers who's species just so happens to be enemies with the Mandalorians? It was a crazy, cruel twist of fate. The whole galaxy seemed to be out to get him at this point.
"This is the Way," the Armorer said casually. Aurelia was beginning to hate that saying. It seemed like an overly formal way of saying, "fuck it, that's how things are, so deal with it". She respected it because it was important to Mando. Those simple words were the foundation for his whole lifestyle. He was obviously willing to die over it, and she felt guilty that every single part of her hated that he was okay with that. They hid themselves for different reasons, but when Kuiil told her that Mando out of everyone else in the entire galaxy, should know how important it was for her to reveal herself to him, he didn't even bat an eye. It made her feel so foolish for trusting in him, but it made her even angrier with herself for being so upset about it. She hid because she was ashamed, he hid because it was his way of life. How dare she get upset over that, right? She was nothing in comparison to the importance of his creed. After all, he was willing to leave The Child, his friends, and even her over it.
No.
No, she wasn't going to dwell on it. She needed to stop this. He hired her for a job, plain and simple. Mando was nothing to her, and she was nothing to him. It's what she told everyone else, and it's what she would keep reminding herself every second if she had to because this was her way. If he was so willing to sever ties with people he "cared" about, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of begging him to come back or feeling upset when he decided to leave.
Cara nudged her out of her runaway train of thought. "Aurelia, we need to go," she muttered to raven haired woman before turning to address the rest of the group. "These tunnels will be lousy with Imps in a matter of minutes. We should at least discuss an escape plan."
"If you follow the descending tunnel it will lead you to the underground river. It flows downstream toward the lava flats," the Armorer directed them.
Mando stayed put. "I'm staying. I need to help her, and I need to heal." There he was again, doing as he pleased. It was his job to come and go as he saw fit, not stay with someone for too long. Aurelia felt foolish for thinking she might of even been an exception.
"You must go," the Armorer commanded sternly. She turned her back towards the rest of the group and motioned for the Mandalorian to follow her to the edge of the furnace. "A foundling is in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father. This is the Way. You have earned your Signet."
The Armorer reached back towards the furnace to collect the newest work of craftsmanship she made using the beskar from the other Mandalorian armor. Sparks flew from Mando's pauldron as his signet was fastened to the steel. The Armorer stepped back to reveal her handiwork; the silhouette of a mudhorn.
"You are a clan of two," she nodded towards Mando and The Child.
"Thank you. I will wear this with honor."
A few loud explosions detonating nearby startled the group. The yells of Imperial soldiers could faintly be heard off in the distance, signaling that the tunnels were soon to be overrun with enemy forces.
"IG, please guard the outer hallway. A scouting party draws near," the Armorer requested. "I have one more gift for your journey. Have you trained in the Rising Phoenix?"
Mando looked at her with awe under his helmet. "When I was a boy, yes."
"Then this," she began, reaching behind her to grab a jetpack, "will make you complete."
Mando took the heavy device from her hands, a strong sense of pride stirring in his chest at the sight of being awarded with such an honor. "Thank you," he exhaled breathlessly.
The other Mandalorian eyed him carefully. "When you have healed, you will begin your drills. Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands.
"I understand."
A few grunts and the chaotic sounds of blasters firing out in the corridor followed. It was quiet for a moment, then IG rounded the corner stoically.
"You are protected," he told the others.
The Armorer nodded in response then turned to face Mando. "More will come. You must go."
"Come with us," he tried to bargain once more.
"My place is here," she answered undeterred by his persuasive efforts. "Restock your munitions. IG, carry this jetpack for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it. Now, go! Down to the river and across the plains. Be safe on your journey."
___________________________________________
They approached an underground lava river, the sweltering sulfuric air making it difficult to breathe in the enclosed tunnel. A few rodents that blended in with the charred rocky landscape scuttled past their feet in a hurry. Aurelia followed their movements, her eyes catching what appeared to be a ferry at the base of the ledge they were standing on. The poor droid that had been given the unfortunate task of operating the boat, didn't appear to be functional in the blistering environmental conditions. In fact, it appeared the ferry hadn't been operated for quite some time. Dried chunks of cooled magma stick to the edges of the boat, securing it to the wall it floated up against it. Mando tried unsuccessfully to pry the rocks loose with the droid's oar, his lack of success further adding to his growing frustration.
"You guys mind getting out of the way?" Cara pushed past him. She took aim at the edge of the boat, blasting away at the hardened rock. Everyone piled on the ferry in a hurry when it began to sway on the surface of the lava, finally freed from the ledge. The sudden movement of the boat making its way downstream brought the tall ferry guide droid to life. Still on edge, the group aimed their blasters defensively at the poor thing simply trying to do its job. It made a few beeps and whistles, translated by IG as it wanting to know where to take the travelers.
"Down river, to the lava flat," Karga instructed. The droid beeped in acknowledgement, humming a happy, high pitched tune to itself as it steered mindlessly through the scorching river. Had their lives not been at stake by the countless Troopers hunting them down, it would've almost almost a peaceful, and much needed, relaxing moment for everyone. Aurelia and Cara leaned back against the edge of the raft, happy to be able to rest for just a moment while they had time to. The orange glow radiating from the lava stream bounced off nearby rocks, creating a  mesmerizing sight during the slow trip down river. The warm blanket of heat lingering in the air along with the droid's singing made Aurelia's eyes heavier the longer they floated on. As if on que, Karga directed everyone's attention to the bright white glow at the end of the tunnel.
"That's it. We're free!"
Something didn't sit right with Mando; this was far too easy of an escape. He stared down the remainder of the tunnel through his life form scanner of his helmet, picking up on multiple heat signatures clustered around both sides of the exit.
"No, we're not," he warned. "Stormtroopers. They're flanking the mouth of the tunnel. It looks like an entire platoon. They must know we're coming."
"What do we do now?" Aurelia asked. "I mean, I could try to grapple past them, maybe get their attention-"
"Absolutely not." Mando growled.
"That's not really your call to make, is it?" She fired at the bounty hunter.
"It's suicide. I'm not letting you do something that stupid, especially after Kuiil gave me the task of looking out for you."
"Don't you dare bring him into this," she spat venomously, jamming a finger into his chest plate. "And I'm not another job for you to do, Mandalorian."
The sound of a blaster going off turned their attention to a smoking, headless ferry droid. Cara holstered her weapon, the others looking at her in confusion. "He wouldn't stop the boat," she said her defense.
Karga threw up his hands in exasperation. "Well we're still moving!"
"There are too many to fight," Mando insisted, still not tearing his eyes away from his heated crew member.
The IG unit stepped forward. "They will not be satisfied with anything less than The Child. This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy, and you will escape."
"You don't have that kind of firepower, pal," Mando countered looking the droid's way. "You wouldn't even get to daylight."
"That is not my objective. I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct."
"What are you talking about?" Mando asked, even though from his first initial run in with the bounty droid, he knew exactly what protocol IG was referring to. It had threatened to use it on numerous occasions when it seemed as though both Mandalorian and droid were heavily outnumbered by enemies during the initial search and rescue mission for The Child.
"I'm not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed," IG clarified. "I can no longer carry this for you," it said setting the jetpack down at its feet, "nor can I watch over The Child. Miss Aurelia, it is your responsibility to do so for the remainder of the mission."
"Wait. You can't self-destruct," Mando tried to reason. "Your base command is to watch The Child. That supersedes your manufacturer's protocol, right?"
IG paused thoughtfully for a moment. "This is correct."
"Good. Now grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out."
"Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured. The Child will be lost. Sadly, there is no scenario where both The Child and Miss Aurelia remain safe, in which I survive. We both have fulfillments that we must see through. Just how you wanted to sacrifice yourself for the safety of your friends, I must do the same."
That hit Mando. Hard. He didn't want to die. This wasn't some kamikaze mission where he didn't care what happened to him. The IG unit had a choice in the matter and it needed to understand self-sacrifice wasn't the only way.
"Listen, you're not going anywhere," Mando pleaded, trying hard to hide the desperation in his voice. "We need you. Let's just come with a-"
"Please tell me the child will be safe in your care," IG interrupted. "If you do so, I can default to my secondary command."
"But you'll be destroyed," the Mandalorian's voice wavered.
"And you will live, and I will have served my purpose."
"No, we need you." Mando was thankful his helmet hid his pained expression beneath the layers of tinted glass and beskar.
"There is nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive," IG said indifferently.
"I'm not...sad."
"Yes you are. I'm a nurse droid. I've analyzed your voice."
The rest of the group watched in defeat as IG gently ran the back of its clawed hand over the top of The Child's head. The last bit of human-like affection it showed made it impossible for Aurelia to watch the droid step into flowing river of lava. The way the IG unit was more human than it would care to admit only further reminded her of the Mandalorian; she didn't think either one was fully okay with dying, even if they said otherwise.
The selfless droid marched onwards until it reached the mouth of the tunnel. A bit of movement could be seen around the edges around the rocks. They could see the fidgeting of shadows coming from the Stormtroopers that were gathered along the exit, watching carefully as to what the droid's next move would be. All was still for a moment before an explosion was set off at the exit, causing Aurelia to jump at the sudden violent detonation. There were no screams or cries of pain from the Troopers; just the eerie silence that was occasionally interrupted by the sound of tiny crackling flames and settling debris that remained in the wake of IG's blast.
The boat continued to drift towards through the large dust cloud, everyone raising their weapons in case any survivors had somehow made it out unscathed. There was no sign of life whatsoever at the end of the tunnel.
Their moment of victory and relief, however, was short lived. A TIE fighter swooped in from overhead, heading straight towards the boat. Cara immediately recognized it as the one that had been right outside the common house when the Troopers had ambushed them during their meeting with the client.
"It's Moff Gideon," she spat hatefully.
When the TIE fighter honed in on their position, they knew he was getting ready to strike. Immediately when they darted out of the small boat, Moff Gideon rained down a barrage of blaster cannon fire, sending spewing chunks of hot lava, rock, and wooden debris in every direction. Mando ushered the rest of the group behind a small gathering of rocks in a desperate attempt to take some kind of cover knowing they wouldn't be so lucky the during the next aerial strike.
"What are you doing?!" Cara exclaimed, turning Karga and Aurelia's attention from the incoming TIE fighter to the Mandalorian.
"I have an idea, just...stay here and take cover," he told her. Mando secured the jetpack that was bestowed upon him by the Armorer on his back. He grit his teeth under the new weight of heavy beskar that was added to his exhausted muscles. He only had one shot at this, and even he had to admit it wasn't his most well thought out plan. The safety of The Child was his top priority. That, and Aurelia's too. He glanced down at the smaller woman and noticed the hint of worry in her golden stare. Mando cupped the side of her face carefully, his heart faltering when he saw the way she fought with herself about whether or not to pull away from his touch. Pushing his own emotions to the back of his mind, he had to remind himself of the task at hand.
He didn't say anything else but instead fired up the Rising Phoenix. The sudden jolt upwards elicited a few painful grunts from the bounty hunter due to his head whipping around from the intense force of the jetpack. Mando struggled to maneuver himself properly but eventually managed to follow the path of the TIE fighter and give pursuit to an unsuspecting Moff Gideon. He shot himself forward a bit more and latched onto the top of the starfighter. From the ground, the others couldn't do anything but helplessly watch the tense scene of Mando being bucked around by Gideon. The TIE fighter weaved in and out of the thick covering of clouds, causing them to lose sight of the Mandalorian for a few passing moments. Karga nudged the two others when a bright, metallic shimmer caught his eye; Mando was falling back to the surface of Nevarro. A loud explosion permeated through the atmosphere, ripping their focus on the bounty hunter to the giant fireball that erupted above him. The TIE fighter disintegrated in a massive explosion, large portions of the ship splitting off and crashing hard into the landscape around them.
Mando recovered himself before he got too close to the ground, making a shaky landing next to the mouth of the tunnel they came out of.
Karga let out a boisterous laugh upon approaching the bounty hunter. "That was impressive, Mando," the Guild leader cheered. "Very impressive. It looks like your Guild rates have just gone up."
"Any more Stormtroopers?" Mando asked, completely unfazed by his one on one fight with a TIE fighter.
Cara shook her head. "I think we cleaned up the town. I'm thinking of staying around just to be sure."
"You're staying here?" He asked in slight disbelief.
"Well, why not?" Karga frowned. "Nevarro is a very fine planet. And now that the scum and villainy have been washed away, it's very respectable again.
Karga grinned and let out a soft chuckle. "Some of my favorite people are bounty hunters." He motioned to Cara. "Perhaps, this specimen of soldier might consider joining our ranks."
The dropper looked over the landscape thoughtfully. "Yeah, I've got some clerical concerns regarding my chain code."
"If you would agree to become my enforcer, clerical concerns would be the least of your worries. But you, my friend," Karga said sharing a finger at Mando, "you will be welcome back into the Guild with open arms. So, go off, enjoy yourself. And when you're ready to return, you will have the pick of all quarries."
The Mandalorian tilted his helmet towards the little foundling that clung tightly to his leg. He let out a sigh then reached down to scoop up the infant. "I'm afraid I have more pressing matters at hand."
Cara approached the father and son pair. She smiled down at the mischievous child, stroking one of it long ears in between her fingertips lovingly while it cooed. "Take care of this little one, and Aurelia too."
Karga placed a hand on the pilot's shoulder, his eyes looking into hers bidding her a silent goodbye. "Or maybe...they'll take care of you."
Mando passed The Child to Aurelia, a sigh of relief threatening to pass his lips when he saw the warmth return to her eyes at the sight of the infant so happy to see her. Such a feeling was short lived when Mando interrupted the sweet moment between the pair.
"Hold the kid tight," he instructed. He scooped her up, holding her tight against his chest and praying to the Maker that he would be able to control the Phoenix enough just to make it back to the ship in one piece.
The Child babbled excitedly, its mouth wide open and a few giggles escaping when they took off and flew high above the lava flats. Even Aurelia couldn't contain the corners of her smile that peeked out from underneath her scarf and the excitement that danced in her golden orbs.
___________________________________________
Mando felt her tense up in her arms when they descended upon the Razor Crest. She was happy to see the ship again, but what lay unmoving just a few feet from the entrance ramp made even Mando's heart drop.
He watched the way she tried to hide the way her legs wanted to buckle underneath her the closer she got to Kuiil's body laying at the base of the Crest. Her body finally gave out when she closed in on the last bit of space between her and the Ugnaught. The exposed fingertips of her gloved hands traced over the bottom of the scarf around her neck. She pulled it loose and down around her shoulders, the ends of the long fabric brushing up against the dry, cracked ground.
Neither she nor Mando said a word to each other while she carefully wrapped the moisture farmer up in the long strand of thick, black cloth. Mando pried his eyes from her and tried think of what he could could use to dig a small grave with and give him a proper burial.
Kuiil was the first person to show Aurelia kindness and expected nothing in return after so many years of being exposed to nothing but sadistic hatred and manipulation every single day. To die at the hands of the Empire was a cruel twist of faith that she would never be able to let herself live down. Kuill worked so hard for his freedom, in fact, he prided himself in it. His selflessness got him killed by the same people that tried to break his kind, generous spirit.
Mando laid Kuiil down gently in the bottom of the grave he had dug out near the Crest. Aurelia held tightly onto The Child who let out a few whimpers and sniffles. Though it might not of fully understood the magnitude of the situation of Kuiil's self-sacrifice, the little foundling could easily feel the sadness coming from both of his caretakers. Knowing they were hurting so made The Child feel similarly.
"Mahn valle ehin uhl Sahsahlah. Aanor il lofahchu ishiia zals. Doaba ol'val tru, min dul'skal," Aurelia spoke quietly over the Mandalorian tossing the rich volcanic dirt over her fallen friend.
Mando turned to look at her but before she allowed him any time to take in her appearance once more, she turned and headed up the ramp into the Razor Crest. He took the moment of solitude to pay his respects to Kuiil one last time, silently thanking him for his sacrifice and for putting the safety of The Child before himself.
His stomach twisted into knots when he climbed up the ladder and saw Aurelia sitting in the centermost chair starting straight ahead outside the cockpit, one of her spare long scarves tied extra securely around her neck and face.
"Where to?" Was all she said, not even bothering to turn and look back at the man staring her down.
"That was beautiful, what you said," Mando remarked in regards to her parting words to Kuiil. "I don't recognize the language, but it sounded beauti-"
"Old Corellian," Aurelia said bluntly. "It's not spoken anymore by much of anyone. My mother picked it up during her years meeting traders who passed through her cantina. She taught it to my father, and he and his soldiers used it during their missions for the sake of secrecy. Now tell me, Mando, where are we going?"
He was blindsided by the harshness of her answer. It took him a second to gather this thoughts and give her a proper plan. Truthfully, he hadn't even thought of what their next destination would be. Mando knew he wanted to take it easy for a few weeks at the very least. He needed to recuperate, as did Aurelia after the physical but more so emotional toll their visit to Nevarro had taken on her. Obviously, she wasn't in the same frame of mind she had been in since before today. She was cold, distant, and more closed off than ever before. Mando wasn't an idiot; he knew Kuill's death had a large role to play in her behavior. He couldn't be upset with her for that and he knew she needed time to grieve as did he, in his own way. He knew the straw that broke the dewback's back had to have been him almost dying on top of the loss of the Ugnaught. What he didn't understand though, was why she didn't even seem to care that he was fine after all.
"Dantooine," he spoke up when the name of the planet was the first to pop into his mind. "It's quiet. We'll lay low for a while and regroup there."
Aurelia locked herself in the refresher once the navigation had been set and she, much to her annoyance, manually determined the calculations for hyperspace. She was hoping the fact that the IG unit had ended up on the  Mandalorian's good side would provide any leverage she needed to convince him into getting an astromech droid in the distant future.
Stars, the future? She had never really thought about such a thing with Mando before. They kind of just...took one day at a time. How long was this going to go on for? They knew now there was some kind of "deadline" coming up as far as how long she would need to stick around. Now that they were actively trying to rehome the kid, well, there wouldn't be any use for her anymore once that was over. They could find these "Jedi" tomorrow, a week, or even a year from now. Absolutely nothing was certain about what was to come. Even then, how long would she be able to tolerate the complete state of emotional disarray she was in?
Aurelia turned on the water to as hot as it would allow. She let down her knotted, dirt and volcanic ash covered tresses and slowly removed each layer of clothing. She winced at how sore her fatigued muscles were from the battle on Nevarro. Her legs were tired from the constant walking and fleeing they did all day, and the burn marks from the Stormtrooper's blaster that grazed her were still raw and irritated.
A thick cloud of steam had begun to collect in the cramped washroom but she didn't mind. The overly hot shower was the only thing that felt good to her right now. She let the burning cascade of fiery water droplets wash away the dried blood and dirt off her skin. It didn't take long for her to clean herself, but she didn't want to venture out to the rest of the Crest quite yet. She was enjoying her moment of quiet, especially away from the Mandalorian. Unbeknownst to her, something caught his attention when he finished tucking The Child into the swing that hung above his cot. He felt wrong for doing so, but he brought his helmet to the refresher door when he heard Aurelia stirring inside. He wasn't expecting to hear her muffled sobs over the sound of the running shower.
Tags: @geannad
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doginshoe · 4 years
Text
What You’d Do To Me Tonight
summary: Lucy had been in a blooming high school romance, but now that the love has wilted between her and her husband, she searches for a solace. However, she finds it in an already broken man that manages to set her alight in more ways then one. When her secrets spill, she finds her world begins to crumble from beneath her feet as the two men in her life torture her already broken heart.
warnings/contains: mentions of smut & domestic violence
part 1 __
He thrusted into her one last time before coming undone, a moan leaving her lips as he roughly pulled himself out and rolled to the side of the bed. Their chest heaving as they tried to catch their breath.
“You’re still on that pill, right?” Her partner asked and Lucy could only laugh as she kicked off the blankets, ready to stumble over to the bathroom to clean herself up.
“You ask that now?”
“Wait, I told you-”
“Natsu,” she sighed as she peered at him from over her shoulder, “Yes. I’m still on the pill.”
He grinned as he watched her stand and walk to the door leading into his small dingy bathroom, her backside still bright red from their earlier activities. “Thank god.”
Lucy gave a light chuckle as she turned on the shower head before grimacing at the sticky liquid between her thighs. It was only a quick rinse and by the time she came back, drying herself with one of the man’s few towels, Natsu was already settled on the side of the bed and liting up a cigarette from his nearly empty pack. He took a long drag before blowing the smoke from his lungs and then downing the remaining whiskey he couldn’t finish before they had started.
She rolled her eyes before grabbing her underwear having given up on lecturing him about his many bad habits. He would only scoff, not paying any mind to her words. As she pulled on her jeans he turned to her with a raised brow.
“Leaving already?”
It was like this a lot of the time. A quick visit after work to loosen up her tight muscles, forget about everything, and unwind then she would be off. It was never anything more between them and she was ok with that. Natsu had been clear that he didn’t need another woman in his life ‘bossing him around.’ The conversation about them being anything more was clipped and swept under the bed. She sent him a quick smile as she buttoned up her shirt and grabbed her bag.
“Yeah. I’ve got some things to do at home.”
He frowned and stood before she could make her move to the door, another cloud of smoke filling the air before he spoke. “You needa ride?”
Lucy dug into her bag and pulled out her keys. “I’m covered,” She grinned, “Beside’s I wouldn’t go near your death trap that you call transport.” Natsu snorted and she thought that would be the end of it but he seemed to have other ideas as he walked to his dresser.
“There’s nothing wrong with my bike. Come on. I’ll walk you out.”
“Your neighbours are going to have a heart attack if they see you walk out like that.” She gestured to his junk that was still out in the open for the world to see, but he only waved her away as he pulled in a breath from his cigarette and opened up his draws.
As he pulled out the smoke from in between his lips he grabbed for his loose jeans. “I’m not gonna give the old folks a heart attack, Smart ass. Just let me put these on,” he quipped as he stepped into the loose denim and lead her out the door.
“My, my you’re becoming quite the gentleman, Natsu Dragneel. To think I used to have to just dress myself and find my way to the door without an escort,” She said while forcing out a dramatic tone, a small smile pulling up on her lips. “Tragic.”
“Sometimes, Luce, I think all those books really do something funny to ya head.”
“I could say the same about that stick of cancer hanging out your mouth.”
“Hey!” He gave her a look as he opened up front door, “They don’t do anything to my head.”
Lucy stepped past him into the chilled air as she kept his gaze, spinning on her heel to face him. “Could’ve fooled me,” she answered, barely suppressing another laugh as he narrowed his eyes at her, trying to muster the scowl that sent men reeling, yet the tell tale sign of the twitch in his cheek gave him away. Natsu could never fool anyone.
“If you keep making that face it’ll get stuck!”
Natsu smirked, the facade dropping in an instance. “Tell me again, Luce. Are you sure you weren’t raised by old women?” His smile grew ten times as he spoke each word before he dropped his finished smoke to smother it into the ground.
Now was the time for her eyes to narrow as she slapped his shoulder. Natsu taking a step back and raising his hands to protect himself at her weak hit, his chuckle filling her ears. No matter what he always knew the ways to get under her skin and push her buttons. She always had to remind herself why she ever came and saw him, yet the answer was so sad that she could never dwell on it too long.
“My humour is just fine, thank you very much. Now if you excuse me I’ll be on my way,” she spoke before turning away, head tilted into the air. She didn’t get far before Natsu was pulling her back into his arms. She gasped as he grabbed her but settled into the warm embrace anyways as he held her.
“Drive safe,” he breathed as he placed a quick kiss to the side of her head that made Lucy’s cheeks warm. A soft smile made its way on her face as she enjoyed their contact. Sometimes, only sometimes, would Lucy revel in this feeling. It had been so long after all that she had a sweet touch, but she knew it would never work. She quickly pulled away, her fingers lingering on his as she turned back to him.
“I will.”
With that she let go and made her way to the car. As she pulled open the door and turned back to look up at his porch, he had already made his way inside and Lucy sighed as she climbed into the vehicle parked in their driveway. With a quick look to the time she cursed as she realised she was running late, her hands quickly turning the keys and putting her foot down to reverse out. He wasn’t going to be happy.
She tried her best to speed home. Yet, her shaking hands had the itch to turn around. Lucy could only hope he hadn’t been drinking again. He was worse when he was drinking. She gulped as she pulled into her own driveway. His car was already there, which she expected, but a small part of her hoped it wouldn’t. He had gone out to the pub, to the bookie, anything.
A defeated sigh left her lips as she turned off the car and grabbed her bag. She checked herself over in the mirror, peering at her neck especially. Natsu always had a habit of leaving unwanted marks even though she had told him that she didn’t like it. That had been a lie, but she couldn’t tell him the real reason - that she had another man to hide them from.
She shook her head to relieve herself of the guilt that had clung to her bones. Ever since the first night she had laid with Natsu, it had wound itself in her lungs and nearly suffocated her when she tried to sleep. He was just so addicting. The way he touched her, his delicate fingers, the way he made her laugh like there was nothing wrong in her life. With him she could forget and that was all she ever wanted. Lucy quickly rubbed at her eyes - It was something she could think about at another time. As she stepped out the car she forced her legs to move, but she had barely made it two steps before he opened the door.
“Where have you been?” He snapped, his dark eyes glaring at her as she made her way towards him.
Lucy held onto her bag a little tighter as she looked up at him, immediately bringing her gaze to the door behind him. “I was kept at work,” she mumbled, bringing her stare back to the man she had married.
“That’s the third time this week.”
Lucy shot him a filthy look before she pushed past him, whispering under her breath as she passed him, “That’s what happens when you have a job.”
As she made her way to the kitchen the front door slammed behind her and she froze. She didn’t want to turn around. If she ignored him he would leave her alone. If she made the excuse she was tired then she could stay in the room, pretend to sleep when he came up to bed. Nothing would happen tonight.
Many times Lucy was wrong.
“You stink of smoke.”
Lucy mentally cursed Natsu and his hotbox of a home. She should’ve sprayed herself with perfume before she got out of the car. The blonde dropped her bag on the kitchen counter as she wondered to the fridge, hoping to cut off the conversation as soon as possible.
“Did you hear me?” He called, voice getting louder as he stepped closer to her. “I’m talking to you.”
“It must have been from someone who I was talking to after-”
She could barely finish her sentence as he grabbed ahold of her hair, pulling at the long tresses and forcing her to face him. His eyes were alight with anger as he put his face in front of hers. Lucy swallowed.
“Who?” he spat.
“It was just a quick conversation, I swear!” she raised her hands to his as tears gathered in her eyes. “Please stop. It hurts, Jackal.” She tried to pry his hold on her hair but when he dropped his grasp a slap followed his movements.
Her head snapped to the side, the sting tingling her face but she refused to look at him, or let the tears fall down her cheeks. He grabbed onto her arm, squeezing it until the hold turned bruising.
“You’re an ugly slut,” he seethed as he pushed himself into her face, the smell of alcohol on his breath burning in her nose. “You hear me? Don’t you ever think you can lie to me!”
Lucy’s lower lip trembled as he shouted in her ear, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her arm. She didn’t dare speak, not that the lump in her throat would ever allow anything but sobs and screams to leave her lips. It would only make him angrier if she spoke. She had learned that the hard way when he had first hit her. They were barely twenty years old and having a stupid argument. When Lucy yelled at him, her anger getting the better of her, he had thrown a frying pan at her head. The cooking utensil barely missing her by an inch as it slammed against the wall. She had screamed at him, nearly packing her things but he had stopped her. His hand around her throat before pushing her into a side table and knocking her mother's favourite vase to the floor - one of the few things she had left of her smashing on impact and cutting Lucy’s hands.
She had kept quiet for the next five years.
He grabbed her face, violently turning it to so her brown eyes could gaze at the man she thought she loved. His eyes were blazing as he growled at her, “I know what you’re up to,” he spat in her face as he pushed her backwards. Her body slamming into the fridge as a choked sob left her lips. “You better be home tomorrow.”
Lucy could only nod meekly as she pushed herself up and wiped the spit from her cheek. He walked away from her, grabbing a half finished beer bottle from the table and walking to the living room. She wasted no time in running up the stairs to their bedroom and locking the door behind her.
The tears trickled down her face as she sunk to the floor. Her cheek where he had slapped her was still red, the skin sensitive and hot. She desperately rubbed at her eyes as she breathed in deep breaths. However, Lucy’s eyes were blank as she stared straight ahead. The only sign of emotion being the shake of her shoulders or the wet drops that she had missed.
What her brown eyes couldn’t tear her eyes from was the picture of her wedding day. She was beaming at the camera, her white dress still on as they had photographs in the gardens. Her father was beside her, his tired eyes managing to smile at the camera as he was seated in his wheelchair.
He had been incredibly happy for her. His baby girl growing up and finding a nice guy when she was only sixteen. The wedding being held as soon as they had graduated. Jackal’s future was always promising. He was taken in when he was only a child by his uncle who was a wealthy businessman and a good friend of her fathers. He was meant to inherit the company. Jude had always said ‘that boy will grow into a fine man one day.’ A bitter smile pulled at her lips as she realised how wrong her dad had been.
Her father had passed not long after the wedding. Six months of continuous heart problems that left him so exhausted he could barely get out of bed. He never saw Jackal when he had started to gamble, or when he had been disowned by his uncle. Her husband burned through more money then they could make, finishing her inheritance in a few short years. If it wasn’t for the house they brought when they had first moved out, she was sure they’d be homeless.
Even now they struggled. He spent his time guzzling drink after drink - either in front of their TV at home, or in the pub. She often wondered what her father would say now. He’d tried his hardest, working day and night, to give her an easier life. Yet now she could barely make ends meet as she was overdue on bills and had notices piling up in her mailbox of debts that needed to be paid. What she would often think about more is what her mother would think. If she was disappointed that her daughter was creeping around with another man.
A sigh left her lips as she continued to sit on the floor, her hands scratching at her thighs through her jeans as she was lost in thought.
She knew her mother would be most upset about her dead eyes. The way she could rarely give a smile these days. She had only wanted Lucy to be happy.
___
I never uploaded the full version of this because I was nervous but I’m releasing part 2 soon so I thought I might as well.
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thedivinedemom · 4 years
Text
This has literally been in my wallet for a few days waiting for me to transcribe it. It's not great but hopefully it'll kick off my writing habit again.
Working title: Blue Eyes
As strange as it may have seemed Steve had never been upstate. Not really. Albany, sure. There and every other State capital and major city of his day.
Shipped cross country, from city to city, to be paraded about like some circus chimp to sell warnings. Never allowed to explore the cities outside the theaters.  Not without an appointment and full escort at least. He was the "property of the United States government" after all. They could not risk losing such a valuable asset because he wanted to go sightseeing. Much less taking a look outside them.
Sealed away in a train car, rushing to show after show, he rarely had the chance to take in the countryside. To enjoy the greenery or the scenery. He could honestly say that he had seen more of France and Germany then he had his own country.
Easing his bike down the turnpike he found that the early afternoon made the roads deceptively quiet. There were only a handful of vehicles out at the hour, mostly big rigs, and it gave an almost serene feeling to the drive. The silence of it gobbled up and ate away at the muffled roar of his engine. Though not enough to avoid startling some poor deer as he rode past. A chuckle bubbled out of Steve at that. How long had it been since he had last seen a deer? Decades? It all  depended on how one counted the years.
Making his way down an exit he caught the first glimpse of his destination. The greenhouses of the Gardens were gleaming in the sunlight. A series of crystal heels arranged across a thick pasture. A small field surrounded the buildings, filled with apple orchards and raspberry bushes.
Beautiful, likely to be more so on the inside. The Gardens were home to a number of rare, exotic, and even mutated plants from across the globe. Tony claimed that the Fantastic Four had donated a few of their more benign experiments to the facility. Sparking the interests of more than just Steve.
Locking his helmet away in his bike's compartment he walked in, his either art bag strapped tight to his back. The lobby was as fancy and sophisticated as one would imagine; filled sleek plastic, flat screens, and linoleum tiles. Even the ticket booth was digital.
Everything seemed to be electric nowadays. It was helpful, amazingly so. There should be ballads written about the wonders of the internet. Yet it was all so different. He was in the same country but it had a different feel to it. Like a teen who was growing into a man. Still going through the growing pains but becoming all the finer from it.
But Steve could barely recognize the land he was born in. Everyone spoke differently, they dressed differently, and there was even a change in the way they walked. It was all so radically different and Steve couldn't be prouder, for the most part.
Easing himself passed the ticket booth he found himself in the middle of a controlled jungle. Thick bushes of deep and vivid color lined the paths. Leading people deeper into the greenhouse filled with tropical flowers and temperate trees. How both could be in the same room he hadn't a clue, another wonder of the future surely, but it was all wonderfully arranged.
Casting his eyes about he looked.forma place to set up. A task easier said than done as what few benches he could see were occupied, taken before he had even arrived. He had hoped by coming in the middle of the week he would have avoided the crowds. A vein wish as it turned out to be.
After a moment, once his eyes finished their second lap of the area, he decided to change his plans. With how crowded things were he would not be able to sketch out the Gardens section by section as he planned. Instead he would have to treat it as a puzzle, taking it one area at a time as.he worked for the full image.
Up along the path he finally found a place to sit, deeper than he would have liked but he had to start somewhere. He did not fancy drawing standing up, he could do it but it would be annoying. The first bench he found put him firmly in the 'Mutated' section. It was an area filled with genetic anomalies ranging from crossbreeds to lab experiments to ability generated. The plant in front of him, according to its placard, was of the last category. The ever shifting colors of the petal was a fairly large hint for that.
Steve would have preferred to have started with something a little more mundane. Something familiar and simple that he could have warmed up on. Something that did not sway on its own or tangle its vines along anything within reach. It would be a challenge, especially so early into his day, but as with most challenges he jumped in feet first.
Eyeing the plant he began. Carefully he started with an outline of the stem. He made it sway on the page, letting it curve in three separate places before moving onto the creeping vines. These he only gave the vaguest of outlines, a matter to fill in later. Once the focus of his drawing was done.
Being as engaged as he was with his work he barely noticed someone approaching his bench. She took a seat without so much as a word, sipping at her coffee as Steve gave her a quick glance.
Lacking for better words Steve could only describe the woman beautiful. To do more would have left his tongue tied and his face red. It was a sensation he was intimately familiar with from his youth, not something he wanted to experience again. Still, he took a second look.
Amused, she caught him staring. Her blue eyes dancing as they met his own. She gave him a small indulgent smile and an inclination of her chin worthy of a queen. And Steve would know, he had met more than a few members of royalty in his time. She even gestured like one, giving a grand arch of her arm as she waved towards the plant he was sketching.
"Cassandra, one of my students, made this." She said, her voice accented and her smile more genuine. "She is very proud."
Keeping his head on his shoulders Steve managed to smile back. "She's not the only one who sounds proud."
Letting out a laugh she nodded. "I suppose. She worked very hard to get the colors just so. All semester in fact. She would be happy to know someone drove all the way to the Gardens to sketch them." She said, her accent twisted through her words and niggled at his brain. It was familiar to him. The curve of her words struck a chord in his memory. The way her vowels weaved away from her words in incriminates and popped away was throwing him off. He knew he had heard it before, and he did have an ear for these things, but he just could not place it.
"If you want she can have this when it's done." He offered, tilting the half finished sketch towards her. "It would just be gathering dust in my portfolio anyway."
"Very well." She said after a moment and a long searching look. "I think she would enjoy that." She paused for a moment longer. "Would you mind if I waited here until it is done? If it wouldn't be a bother."
Eyeballing his drawing Steve gave it another ten to fifteen minutes until he was finished, more or less. It wouldn't be his best work, not when it was his first sketch of the day, but it would still be up to his usual quality. Which he would modestly admit was exceptional.
So, Steve nodded his head. "It shouldn't take too long, Miss -"
"Monroe." She introduced, offering him another smile. This one was bright and full of genuine warmth, unlike her first smile. "But please, call me Ororo. Hearing Miss Munroe makes me think I'm back at the Institute."
"Ah, " he said, finally realizing how.rude.he was being. Once he wiped it free of pencil smudges he offered her his hand to shake. "Steve, please. It's a pleasure to meet you. Though if you don't mind me asking, where are you from? I can't seem to place your accent."
Taking his hand she gave him a firm shake, little callouses scraping against his palm as she pulled away. "I'm not surprised. I had a… diverse childhood. Though I am fairly certain my accent is some combination of Manhattan, Cario, and rural Kenya." Her tone lost some of its warmth, her voice worn as she answered. Likely because she answered that question in some form a thousand times before.
Though Steve barely noticed this. Instead, he felt a pang of excitement as things clicked into place. "<Ah! I knew your accent sounded familiar! The Manhattan in your consonants must have been what threw me off but I can hear it now.>"
Eyes wide Ororo leaned in, her voice excited as she asked, "<You can speak Arabic?>"
"<Roughly>," he said, shifting in his seat. "<I spent a few months in Egypt on my tour and some of the locals taught me. I'm sure my grammar is horrible. My French and German is much better but my Cantonese is barely passable.>"
Though Steve was fairly sure his grammatical and structural errors were more due to the lingual shift of the better part of a century passing by. He had a few missteps in his first months after the thaw with English. Steve could not imagine his secondary languages faired any better.
Ororo, unaware of his thoughts, simply nodded his head. Completely agreeing with his assessment. "<A few words do seem off. Perhaps they taught you a different dialect? You are speaking very well." She paused here, considering him for a long moment. Longer than before, as if she was only then getting the full picture of him. "<If you would like we could practice your language skills while we are here. Walk around the Gardens, perhaps a bite to eat. It has been so long since I've spoken Arabic with someone."
"Ororo, " He said, enjoying the feel of her name, "<It would be my genuine pleasure.>"
An:
Again, not happy with it. I've been reading a lot of high/sword & sorcery fantasy lately and I think it has an effect on my prose. I'm likely to just redo the entire snip.
I honestly like the pairing of Ororo and Steve, largely because they have each have been called the 'perfect person' as well as being strong leaders in their own rights even if they have different styles. Plus I can see them bonding over nature and trying things neither are familiar with, as well as her constantly making him blush (see swimsuits of the 1940s and compare to Storm's preferred swimwear).
And yes, I like the idea of neither putting two and two together for a while. Adds spice/grounds the relationship. Part of my handmade is that while Steve has worked with the XMen before the was the Original 5 and he hasn't met the new team yet. For Ororo Steve wasn't part of her history books besides a brief mention before the earthquake happened, and Steve is a common white boy name.
Oh, and before I forget, the first letter of every paragraph. Donate to your preferred cause.
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kjs-s · 5 years
Text
Caught in the crossfire
Fandoms Marvel and The Losers
Pairing Steve Rogers x reader platonic
Summary  Steve and the reader are recruited to go after some rogue agents but end up involved in a more tricky case.
Words 1800
Warnings  shooting and mention of war
A/N This is my second entry for @locke-writes cinema rewrite challenge. I hope you like it. I found it sa funny that the movie was on when i was reading this last week.
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You kept scrolling through the internal memos left on your old tablet, notifying you about everything that had happened with your old partner and his new team. There has been more than a year since you left the Special Forces to join the Avengers. At first, you were content there, up until the horrible remarks one of your supervisors kept making about your work ethics and professionalism drove you to quit. Fortunately, it only took a week for your best friend to come through. Clint was the only person you had told about your work and he loved sharing stories with you. Pizza parties at his house so you can play with his dog was your favorite pastime. Therefore, he offered you a job with him almost immediately. In addition, he appointed himself in charge of your training even though you ended up going on more mission with Steve. You two had just gotten back from a five-month mission to stop an alien attack. However, instead of getting some much-needed rest you found yourself in Steve’s office asking for time off.
‘’ I understand that it might sound crazy or irrational but I am certain something is going on there. I trusted Clay with my life for so long that I know him more than everyone else. You can ask Clint about all the times that lunatic has saved my life. I may not know the rest of his team although I am certain they are trustworthy.’’ You were talking fast so you needed to take a breath.
‘’I trust your judgment on your former partner. You have shown me that you have the ability to read people. I understand if you want to investigate what is going on with them. Why don’t you fill me in? Preferably on a slower pace so I can follow the story?’’
‘’Apparently, there was a mission to search and destroy a drug lord in Bolivia. The memo states that Clay and his team made a deal with the target and betrayed the Special Forces. That forced another team to be deployed in order to finish the mission and they ended up killing the first one.’’
‘’I am so sorry to hear that. And now you hope you can find evidence to clear their names?’’ Steve seemed surprised because he thought there were still alive when you mentioned them at first.
‘’No, that’s not what I need to do. As I read, ‘’The covert team is still alive. They attacked a convoy that was heading to a safe house and stole one of the vehicles. They used a stolen helicopter.’’ Stealing a police helicopter is an extremely risky move. Why would they do that just to steal a van? It doesn’t make any sense.’’
‘’Is it possible that they would try to either clear their names or get back at someone they believe is responsible for what happened? Who authorized the Bolivia mission?’’
‘’Their supervisor, let me check the name.’’ The expression on your face made Steve not want to find out what that person ever did to you. He knew you had quit due to one of your superiors and he assumed that was the codename you saw.
‘’I can’t believe that guy. I am certain he has something to do with this. Not just because I hate him. I honestly believe that.’’ You tried in vain to hide your hatred.
‘’Fine, I respect it. I assume that he has people working for him who would be dangerous. I will have Friday search for your friend and his team. Afterward, I will help you find out the truth and find evidence on Max.���’
It took only a few hours for Friday to track the team to an abandoned warehouse in Miami. When you landed the jet there, you knew the team would be ready to defend themselves.
‘’Clay are you here? It’s (Y/N). And I am positive you know who he is.’’ You pointed at Steve who was just standing around evaluating the situation.
‘’We are here to help. You were my mentor and I know someone tried to kill you and frame you for what happened in Bolivia.’’
‘’How do you know that?’’ A young, good-looking man spoke up from his hiding place. You could see that he was dressed in a ridiculous bike messenger outfit.
‘’ I can still get the internal memos since someone forgot to remove me from the list. Which is a good thing considering that I can help you if something is indeed going on. Sorry I’m asking, but what are you wearing?’’
‘’Can’t say, part of the plan. Does your friend there talk at all?’’ Jensen sensed right away that you were both trustworthy but wanted the others’ permission to share any information.
‘’I do, when I have something to say. I’m Steve and (Y/N) thinks we can be of service to clear your names.’’
‘’Jensen. And we are looking for revenge.’’
‘’I think you said enough.’’ Clay interrupted your conversation. ‘’I will fill our guests in. This one here own me a lot and promised me to never betray me.’’
‘’It was a pinky promise. I always keep those.’’ You spread your arms inviting your friend for a hug like you always used to do to tease him about the whole tough act.
They informed you about Max’s actions and their plan to steal a hard drive from him to prove his actions. It seemed like you weren’t needed although having two extra sets of hand, as back up couldn’t hurt.
‘’Since all we can do now is wait for the class clown to finish his part of the mission, might telling me what do you expect to do next? Stealing from him will get you nothing. We need to make sure he pays.’’ You asked Clay showing how much you still detested your old boss.
‘’I had no idea he acted that way around you. I just thought you needed some time away from the action. And look at you now, an Avengers working with the country’s poster boy.’’
‘’I wanted to come here alone but he is our leader. Looking after the rookie is part of his job. Looks like your boy is successful.’’ You wanted to not comment on your treatment. You had long forgiven Clay for not noticing it.
 While the team was working on the hard drive, Steve pulled you aside.
‘’I know that you expect me to talk like a leader and scold you for something. I am joking, those guys are great. Their stories made me feel like I was back at war, making split-second decisions. I don’t approve how they hijacked a helicopter that was dispatched for injured soldiers. However, I understand it was necessary. I’m glad we are helping them.’’
‘’I feel like you are about to tell me something I won’t like.’’
‘’We just need to act quickly. Our involvement will make things go public rapidly.’’ You agreed with him and promised to try your best and for Steve to not get any spotlight.
‘’We found his base of operation. We are headed to Los Angeles. Are you going to come with us?’’ Clay showed you the spot at the port and their mean of transportation.
‘’I think it’s better we get the jet. That way we won’t raise any suspicion and get the element of surprise. Send me the coordinates and we will meet you there.’’
Before landing in the port, you received an encrypted message from Clay. He informed you about Aisha leaving and that he wanted to proceed on his own. You admired him for his dedication to the team. However, that didn’t mean that he had to always be the hero. Refusing your help never stopped you from being a part of a team that could use any assistance. You were surprised about Aisha since you thought she seemed genuine. Steve didn’t share your opinions for he had met many people who betrayed him in the past.
You searched around for a while before finding the team. They had been captured by Special Forces men who were leading them away from your position. Steve reached for his shield but you nodded for him to stop. Drawing attention to yourselves wouldn’t get anything done.
‘’Let’s stay on them to see where they are taking them. If they make any move to shoot them, then we return the shots. You said it yourself, we need to stay unseen. We can’t have the Avengers involved in this.’’
As soon as they stopped, you found a great spot to monitor them. That’s when Steve noticed Aisha pointing a missile at one of the planes.
‘’She is probably here to help. When she fires that, we start shooting to rescue our friends.’’ It all went according to plan, with one issue left to be dealt with.
‘’I saw many armed people while we were coming here. I assume your target would be there with his weapons. Let’s finish your mission.’’ Steve couldn’t help but sound in commend. You then noticed your teammate had been shot in both legs. And having the others asking him if he can stand wouldn’t be pleasant either.
Taking down the rest of your enemies was easy. However, Max still got away. Fortunately, you managed to fire a missile on his plane that was filled with money.
‘’Good job (Y/N). I always knew I could count on you.’’ Clay still sounded like your big brother.
‘’And I always knew you would save my life, time after time. Choosing to let him go to not destroy the whole city is exactly what a hero does. Are you going to tell me what is going on with Aisha now or do I have to wait until we get your teammate to the hospital?’’
‘’She is the drug lord’s daughter. Yes, the one I killed. I bet she won’t let me forget about it any time soon.’’
In the hospital waiting room, everyone thanked you and Steve for helping them. You were just glad that it was over. Steve knew it wasn’t the right time then again he promised to keep an eye out for any more corrupt federal agents. He also offered to make the team official consultants for the Avengers.
‘’That would be great. Especially if it means we will get to see more of the two of you.’’ Clay accepted the offer and Jensen handed you and Steve pink shirts.
‘’Also, if you are not busy saving the world or anything, my niece’s soccer team is playing in a few days. You should come. They are in the playoffs.’’
@writing-journeyx   @sprinkleofhappinessuniverse  @agentpeggicarter @ohyesmarvel  @buckyofthemyscira @romantichen @once-upon-an-imagine @marveliskindacool  @jurassicbarnes @uncomfortable-writers @theassetseyeliner @sgtbxckybxrnes @thetherianthropydaily @dresupi @redgillan  @captainrogerss @musikat18 @justreadingfics @murdocksmartinis
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abthepoet · 4 years
Text
All my friends are dead.
Something strange is trending in my life.
All my friends die.
At the beginning of my sophmore year in college, my roommate from freshman year died tragically in a single vehicle car crash. Her name was Allison Lynam. We called her Blake. She was sassy and funny and I wish I would've taken more time to know her.
The rain was torrential the night she died. I swear I've never seen it rain that hard ever again in my life. She drove to the store along Highway 36 in Long Branch,NJ. She had off campus housing that year and had to use the highway often. The road was terribly flooded the night she died. Im told she hydroplaned, spun, and T-boned the driver side smack into an electrical pole. Her family still decorates it.
At that very same moment, in my dorm room nearby, I was watching TV when the lights suddenly flickered and dimmed. A brown out.
I had no idea but that was my friend crashing into a pole and dying. She was 19 years old.
I know this because that accident happened near the mall. That accident killed the power to nearby businesses.
I later found out that the road she died on was so badly flooded, the police intended to close it. Why they didnt get to it in time, I'll never know. Maybe that's fate.
Then there was Jessica Blain. Jessica Blain was a firecracker of a human being. She was 100% unmistakable. One of the loudest, funniest, most loyal people and friends I have ever met. She was also an incredibly gifted singer and I was lucky enough to have Chorus with her. We, along with a small group of friends, founded a new greek organization on our campus, Alpha Xi Delta. We were paired up as Twins. (you can't have Bigs & Littles when you're just starting the Family Tree). We named the family we formed Fuck Up Your Shit. Because that's what we'd do for a friend. I miss her laugh most of all. It was loud and unapologetic. She was there for me, supportive, and encouraging without me ever having to ask. The night I officially finished college we all went out to the local gay club, The Colosseum. I got wasted, of course. But Jess was the person who when I shouted 'I have to pee' on the ride home, she stopped and knocked on strangers doors and asked to let me use their bathrooms. Nobody said yes so she held my hand while I peed on a fence instead. I remember the last time we spoke. She was at a concert with a mutual friend. We hadn't spoken much since I graduated, she was still in school.
She died in her dorm room bed on Halloween as a result of asphyxiation during an epileptic seizure. She was 20 years old. The news was broken to me that very same Halloween night as I floated along in NY on a concert cruise. The World/Inferno Friendship Society decided to host Hallowmas, their annual event, on a boat this year. Nothing like being trapped on a musical boat while you grieve. I had messaged her AIM late that night to say hi. She had an away message up. I may have sent a message to a dead person. I miss her friendship more than I realize sometimes.
That brings us to James Padden. James was a warm, snuggly bear of a guy who always tried to do the right thing and let me steal his hoodies. He insantly became my best friend in a Stepbrothers-esque manner. I met James working overnights at Wawa in Leonardo, NJ. I forget how it started now, but we were standing in front of the deli and I think I tossed him a broom or he already had one. . . I cant remember now.. . . but he just took one look at me with that mischievous little twinkle that I quickly returned and we instantly began sword fighting with our brooms. Like two little boys playing pretend and having a ball. He was sweet and silly and kind. I needed a ride, and he loved to drive. Our first winter as friends, we went out doing donuts in the snow. I barely knew him, but I felt safe. We smoked a ton of weed and had so many adventures trying to procure more. One time, we got so high driving to a Dropkick Murphys concert in NY we kept going in circles, missed almost the entire show save for the last 3-5 numbers, and had a blast. I can barely remember the night, but I remember laughing hard in that car. No one could talk to me like James. We were both insecure being chubby kids and adults, but so charismatic and grandiose that I sometimes thought we were the only two who would put up with listening to each others wild ideas and ridiculous banter. We would smoke joints and take adderall and talk about everything and anything. I miss the safety and closeness I felt with him. We were always 100% platonic, but we could nap together, I could walk into his house and jump on him in bed and wake him up. Then we would cook ourselves a breakfast feast and hit the beach. He taught me to always take the back roads. I gave him advice on the ladies. He taught me about fixing cars. I helped shave his back. He called his new pick up truck, a pick'um up truck. We could wax philosophical all damn day and not get sick of each other.
It wasnt just driving he loved, it was going fast. Like so many young white men, he had tendency to be a little reckless. The universe gave him a pass only so many times.
I'll never forget when he got his motorcycle. It was the last time I saw him. It was a bright green crotch rocket. He loved lime green. I was doing yoga in the living room when I heard this obnoxious engine rev down my street. I asked myself, who the hell is making this noise?! And it was James, grinning from ear to ear with a matching helmet on his shiny new toy.
before he left I said, 'you die on that thing, I'll bring you back to life and kill you." I remember giving him this very long and intentional hug and not knowing why I felt compelled to hang on.
When he left and hopped back on the bike, I felt compelled again and took a video of him riding away from my driveway until he was entirely out of sight.
That's my very last memory of him alive. James Padden died on Thanksgiving five days after his 25th birthday. He went out for a joyride on his bike before dinner, opened up to 100mph around a curve where he couldn't see a car pulling out around the bend in time. They called a medevac, but he died on scene. I loved James dearly and I regret drifting apart after we both left Wawa and I started a new relationship. He had stuff too, but in hindsight it never seems important.
Then there's JB. I will always remember JB for his kindness and generosity. The very first time I finally worked up the nerve to go to a poetry slam, I was alone and terrified. I had no idea what to expect. JB was the very first person to turn around, introduce himself, and welcome me. He made me feel like I belonged. Years later, when I won the title of Grand Slam Champion, he immediately offered to help coach me for national competition. Except, I didn't see the messages and left them unanswered, which I deeply regret. When I started hosting my own open mic a few years after that, JB would be one of the only people to consistently come support the show both as an audience member and participant. It was at a pizza joint and he would sometimes buy me food when I had no money. He wrote beautiful poems about his two young daughters and how much they inspired him. JB always tried to make people laugh but you could tell he carried a sadness. I did not get details, but from what I have gathered he made a choice to end his life. I wish I would have gotten closer to him and appreciated him more as a friend and person. I wonder if he felt no one cared about him and I feel like I should've let him know more.
Which brings us to Crys. Crystopher Anthony Diaz was a Scorpio with a big heart and a big personality. I met him on Myspace back in the day and started Web camming. We became friends and eventually fell into this gray area of friends, together, but not. It wasn't long before I was spending days at his place, killing hours at a time downloading music, making Wawa runs, and smoking weed with his roommate at the time, Syd. You know, the whole reason I worked at Wawa was Crys suggesting it. And Wawa is the reason I met James. Crys was unlike anyone I'd ever met. He was poetic and artistic and loved animals, especially pit bulls. He loved to draw and write and had this very out loud style that favored Earth tones. He taught me about fashion and insisted on getting dressed even if it was 1am and we were just going to Wawa because you never know who you might see. We would buy new clothes at Walmart and have photo shoots. That boy drank his weight in coffee daily. If it's one thing I'll always remember him for, it's the dancing. Dancing was a passion of his and always used to talk about wanting to form a dance crew. Eventually, we ended up living together for four years. My first apartment was with him in this piece of shit duplex rented to us by a slumlord in Keansburg,NJ. My relationship with him was always defined by our Aries/Scorpio dynamic and he never let me forget it. His birthday was October 30th, mischief night. One time, after we had moved into a new place, we decided to get revenge on our old downstairs neighbor by taking a finished lobster carcass and throwing it on his lawn. . . . . . . Keansburg had a terrible stray cat problem. 😁
I have so many memories with Crystopher. Unfortunately, towards the end of our relationship things became too tumultuous. We had too much unresolved baggage and trauma to find a healthy place emotionally together. We were so financially strained for a time we hardly ate. And then when he met his new girlfriend Laura, she introduced him to her good friend, Roxy. As in Roxcicet. aka Blues. Neither of us knew what that even was at the time. But he sure learned quick. He started using them pretty frequently as time went on, and things only got more complicated. My mental health took a nose dive. By the time I moved out our relationship was trash. I basically left. At the time, I didnt have a choice. things had gotten so bad between us, the money, the using . . . we didn't act like friends anymore.
I saw him a couple times at his new place but that was years ago. Since then, he went through a lot, including homelessness and more struggles with addiction to opiates. He reached out to me and sent me a message apologizing for everything a couple years back. I never responded. I was afraid I would let him back into my life and let the all the problems back in. I didnt trust where he was at in his life. We lost touch and stopped speaking.
His ex, who used to live with us and became my friend, messaged me and told me he died a few days ago. He was 35. I'm still waiting for information, but it may have been drug related. I'm not even sure where I'm at with how I feel. I know why we stopped talking. It was the right thing to do at the time. But he didnt deserve to die so young, having spent the last god knows how many months homeless. It's fucking with me so hard because we never resolved anything. I loved this person so fucking much and we never made peace. Of everyone I've lost, he was the closest to me. I've had a lot of people die on me but none that I lived with and shared a life with. I have more memories with him than I can handle and while I know we hadn't spoken in years and why, I still wish I would've said something. Done something. Yes, i needed healthy boundaries but he needed somebody. when is being firm too firm? If we would've helped, could it have been different? But we didn't want to help at the time, you try to be tough and draw a line. Be firm. Not let yourself be taken advantage of. But is that a defense? Did that defensiveness leave a human being who's head i used to scratch until he fell asleep out in the cold to get sicker and die?
What am I supposed to learn from all this Universe? Why do you take my friends so young and so tragically? I'm only 35, I'm too young to have this much loss.
Because these are just the major players I've lost. It doesnt include my cousin Jared, who died being reckless on a motorcycle at 21 two years ago. I was 15 when he was born. I loved that baby, he used to bite my nose. But his family lived far, so I rarely saw him growing up. Last time I saw him was at my grandfather's funeral. He didn't remember me and the nose biting.
And then there's Marcos who we used to chill with. He worked delivery for our favorite chinese food place. He was a nice kid who lived with his grandparents. We would get food, smoke weed, hang out a little. Even used to buy it off him for a while. Eventually he got into the opiates too, he even wound up being good friends with Crys and being Blue buddies. But eventually Marcos died from an opiate overdose. He was in his mid twenties.
I didnt want to include Ricky because he was more of an acquaintance for me, he was more my partners childhood friend. But god damn, in the time I knew Ricky that kid was a riot. He was loud and funny and definitely marched to the beat of his own drum. Drugs took him too.
Thanks for reading all this if you've made it this far. It's taken me about two hours to type this out on my phone. but i needed to. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk
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