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shysneeze · 4 years

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persausion (part one)

George Weasley x Malfoy!Reader

*part one*

Description: two years after she’s broken George’s heart at the hand of her parents’ persuasion, she bumps into George at the leaky and everything comes flooding back .

Warnings: alcohol, angst and I want to say swearing but I genuinely don’t think there is. It’s very AU. Fred is alive because he deserves to be (let me know if there is any ive missed please)

(Author note: not what i wanted it to be hence long ass delay in posting cause i got angry but hey ho. Also can you tell I’ve literally given myself a big fat crush on Fleur??”)

series masterlist

A giggle bubbles in (Y/N)’s throat as she sways slightly, arm hooked through Fleur’s as they struggle their way across the cobblestone of Diagon Alley towards the Leaky Cauldron in their heels. The winter air is crisp, and it bites at their bare skin. The plan was devised at the last minute and mostly fuelled by the buzz left from the bottle of wine they’d shared in (Y/N)’s apartment.

“It’s freezing!” Fleur shivers. “Why didn’t we bring jackets?”

“Excitement?” (Y/N) laughs with a slight shrug of her shoulder. “Probably the wine.”

“Definitely the wine.”

The woman burst into another fit of giggles, followed swiftly by a hiss of relief when they enter the warmth of the pub. They pause in the doorway together, long enough to fix each other’s hair and pull their dresses down. It’s not until they step further into the pub that (Y/N)’s smile begins to fade as the voices grow louder, and suddenly, she remembers why they usually stick to drinking in her apartment.

She can see it happening every time she steps in a crowded shop or in this case, pub, the exact moment that she goes from being a stranger in the corner of someone’s eye to (Y/N) Malfoy, first daughter of a notorious ex-deatheater. It’s no different this evening and her eyes sink to the floor when the whispering begins, already uncomfortable and longing to return to her apartment. Her change in demeanour doesn’t slip by unnoticed by Fleur who has already begun to fend off the dirty looks with a well-practiced glare of her own.

“Why is it so busy in here tonight?” Fleur sighs dramatically, standing slightly on her toes to see over the mass of people that are lingering around the bar without seats. “We’ll never get a booth!”

“How tragic.” (Y/N) makes an attempt to tease. “We’ll have to go back and drain the bottle of gin you got me for my birthday now.”

“No!” Fleur whines. “I have only just gotten you out of that apartment and I will not let you back out now. You’ll become a recluse!”

“Ouch.” (Y/N) pouts. “That’s harsh.”

Her own hurt at the comment is unconvincing to even (Y/N) herself as her pout soon turns into another bout of giggles. Fleur laughs with before returning to look out, searching every corner for somewhere to sit. She’s about to give up and reluctantly agree with her friend when she spots them.

“The twins!” She exclaims. “They’ll let us sit with them.”

Before she can even process what Fleur has said, they’re on the move again, Fleur’s dainty hand wrapped around (Y/N)’s wrist. It takes a moment for the words to sink in, but as soon as they have (Y/N) comes to a halt instantly, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. She doesn’t even try to explain herself when Fleur turns to frown at her, she’s already staring across the room where her eyes find George Weasley’s.

His eyes are just as wide, hand paused in mid-air with his pint halfway to his mouth, and for a second, all they can do is stare at one another. Then, his brows drop into a scowl and the look that falls onto his face is a jab straight to the heart for (Y/N). The disgust written all over his face forces the air out of her lungs and her hands to tremble nervously. She remembers back at Hogwarts, hidden away together in the astronomy tower or, after graduating, tucked away in his bed above the shop, how his eyes chocolate brown eyes were the only ones in the world that made her feel safe, the only ones that looked under her surname. Now, they make her feel nauseous with guilt as they bore into her own and she can’t even blame him.

“(Y/N), are you coming?”

Fleur’s question makes (Y/N) jump, turning back to her friend, mouth stuttering wordlessly as she tries to gather the sentences that she needs to tell her friend that she absolutely cannot sit with George Weasley.

“It’s only the two of them.” Fleur continues, hand slipping into (Y/N)’s. “They won’t mind.”

(Y/N) gives up on her protests and allows herself to be pulled towards the booth at the back because what is she supposed to tell her? How is she to explain that she can’t sit with her friend’s brother-in-law because three years ago, she broke his heart? No, she can only follow in silence with her eye firmly stuck to the floor. She already beginning to feel whatever confidence boost the wine had given her wearing off.

“Fleur?” She hears Fred exclaim, a drunken joyfulness in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to find a seat.” Fleur exhales a sigh as they come to a stop. “It’s so busy tonight.”

“Well, we’re not waiting on anyone else.” Fred states. “You and your friend can sit with us. We don’t mind, ay, George?”

There appears to be no response from George, though (Y/N) can’t bring herself to look up yet. Fleur’s hand slips out of (Y/N)’s as she goes to hug her in-laws and a sudden vulnerability hits (Y/N) at the lack of contact.

“I told you, (Y/N).” Fleur nudges her. “They’re fine with it.”

At the soft jab to her side, (Y/N)’s eyes filter upwards despite her own resolve to stare at the ground until it swallows her whole. She watches the recognition flicker across Fred’s face, smile forming a sort of ‘o’ shape. (Y/N) can only give him an apologetic look as she’s tugged into a seat across the booth beside Fleur.

“Hi.” She squeaks.

“Malfoy.” Fred manages, eyes drifting for a moment to his brother. “It’s been a while.”

“I forgot.” Fleur exclaims. “You were all in the same year back at Hogwarts, no?”

“Yes, we were.” (Y/N) manages quietly, sobering up faster by the minute.

“Yeah it’s been a while.” Fred agrees with an awkward grin. “How are you?”

The question is so clearly forced and (Y/N) can’t believe she ever believed that her and George had kept it all a secret from him years ago because now, two years later, it’s clear he knows everything and he’s just as annoyed as George is.

“I’m good.” She nods. “How are you two?”

“We’re great, right George?” Fred chuckles awkwardly.

Once again, George doesn’t reply and only raises his brows before downing the remaining contents of his pint. His glass is forced onto the table with slight thud and he gets to his feet without a word. Everyone at the booth watches as he silently makes his way towards the bar and all (Y/N) can do is purse her lips at the whole thing.

“Anyway…” Fred clears his throat. “I never realised you two were friends. How did that happen?”

(Y/N) can only hope her face portrays the gratitude she feels for him at this moment for that distraction. Rather than questioning George’s abrupt departure, Fleur jumps into explaining how she and (Y/N) met at (Y/N)’s shop and quickly became close friends, and Fred listens attentively, even in his intoxicated state, humming and a nodding at all the correct places.

“I never knew you owned a shop.” Fred blurts, leaning in slightly out of curiosity. “On Diagon Alley?”

“It’s tucked out the way somewhat.” She admits. “It’s just down the street from, um, your shop actually.”

She doesn’t quite know why she’d hesitated, as if bringing it up is incriminating in some way. It’s not of course, their joke shop is famous and not exactly subtle either, no one else would expect her not to know of Weasley Wizard Wheezes and no one seems phased by her mentioning it at all. Yet, a sudden anxiety hits her, as if acknowledging the shop is only a step away from revealing the secrets the apartment above it used to hold.

“Wow, I didn’t know that.” Fred exclaims. “What do you sell?”

“She does the best perfumes I’ve found here in Britain.” Fleur gushes.

“I guess it’s more of a boutique in a way…” (Y/N) confesses nervously. “I sell magically enchanted gift items of sorts.”

“Huh, I never imagined you doing that.” Fred admits. “Always assumed you’d be in the ministry.”

“Oh no, I’d hate to be stuck in an office all day.” (Y/N) shakes her head. “I like meeting people and making things with my magic that might make people smile.”

“That’s a bit like George and I.” Fred grins.

“Well, my roses tend not to bite.” (Y/N) jokes.

“Biting roses…” Fred begins to ponder. “That brilliant!”

“What’s brilliant?”

George has returned, face still devoid of a smile but no longer holding the same animosity it did earlier. It might have been years, but (Y/N) can tell he’s given himself some sort of pep talk at the bar. He slides carefully into his seat again, the contents of the glasses huddled in his arms sloshing dangerously up the sides. (Y/N)’s automatic response is once again to drop her eyes, afraid to meet his in case it takes her too far into the past again.

“(Y/N) just gave us a great idea for the shop.” Fred explains. “Roses that bite.”

“Hmm.” George hums uncommittedly.

He pushes a glass of wine towards Fleur once he’s sat, then, taking (Y/N) completely off guard again, he places a glass of wine in front of her, drawing her eyes up to meet his in surprise. His brows are peaked almost questioningly at her expression.

“T-thank you.”

With a shrug he turns away again, facing his brother as he bursts into a pitch for biting bouquets for Valentine’s day while Fleur giggles at his enthusiasm. (Y/N) fiddles nervously with the stem of her glass, watching the side of George’s face as he listens, eyes fixed on the smile that begins to tug at his lips over his brother’s antics.

It hurts.

It hurts to see him, a reminder of what she could have had if she hadn’t allowed herself to be persuaded to destroy it. She hasn’t got the right to miss him as much as she does, not after how she left him, with a poorly written letter full of excuses that she herself didn’t even believe. No, she deserves this cold shoulder, deserves much worse in fact. She almost wishes he’d just shout at her, to tell her exactly how evil she is.

“Thanks for the idea, (Y/N).” Fred announces, pulling (Y/N) out of her memories with a start.

“Oh.” She recovers. “I can’t really take credit. It’s all yours.”

“Me and George will have to come visit your shop sometime.” He continues. “It’s just across from us, George.”

George lets out another bored hum that makes his brother’s smile twist into an awkward grimace, brows tightened and frozen for a second as he considers how to recover from this.

“Don’t feel the need to go out your way.” (Y/N) mumbles. “It’s not all that exciting.”

“That’s not true!” Fleur bursts. “You’re being modest. Your products are fantastique.”

An embarrassed sort of smile creeps onto (Y/N)’s lips at this and Fred laughs a little at her shy expression at Fleur’s declaration. Fleur seems to be completely unaware of the fact that she’s made the entire evening that little bit more bearable for her. Fleur’s always doing these little things that make everything more bearable and (Y/N) has never been more grateful for their friendship.

“Thanks, Fleur.” (Y/N) smiles softly.

Fred picks up another conversation, one far less likely to lead to any awkward silences. It holds better than any of the previous conversations have this evening and (Y/N) considers that this is because it is mostly dominated by Fred and Fleur, not that she’s complaining. (Y/N) is quite content for the awkwardness to settle solely between George and herself, where it truthfully belongs, and not to interfere with Fleur’s evening, especially after she’d been so excited to get (Y/N) out of her flat.

She considers that, if nothing else, this evening will relieve her of her life sentence to become recluse as Fleur had suggested.

An hour or so later they find themselves walking together back along Diagon Alley, shivering in the cold and hobbling with blistered feet. With the end of the night within her grasp, (Y/N) can hold herself a little lighter, and she finds herself laughing honestly as she watches Fleur and Fred babbling drunkenly together. To her side, George hides a smile stubbornly under her gaze and now that they are far enough from earshot from the others, she takes a risk.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” He asks, brows piqued quizzically.

“For not saying anything.” She expands. “I didn’t deserve that.”

He lets out a breath that almost sounds like a scoff before turning his head away from her, as if trying to hide his expression.

“I didn’t do it for you.” He states after a moment.

She knows this, it’s not a surprise. She’s suspected all evening that his lack of outburst and direct insult has been for the sake of his pride, for Fleur and for his brother, but certainly not for her, and so the knowledge doesn’t insult her. She’s glad in a way.

“I know.” She whispers. “But thank you nonetheless.”

She knows him well enough still not to push it any further and she quickens her pace to catch up with the others. They’re slowing to a stop in front of the twin’s shop and Fred flings his arms around both the Fleur and (Y/N)’s shoulder and pulls them into a hug.

“We need to do this again.” He announces.

(Y/N) can’t fault him in being as drunk as he is, not after he’s held the entire evening together so well. Instead, she laughs and nods as she pulls from his grasp. George is rolling his eyes at his brother, lips twitching into a sort of smile.

“Yes well, we need to invite Bill next time.” Fleur agrees. “He’ll be jealous to have missed it.”

“He does know you’re staying at mine, right?” (Y/N) asks, panic stricken for a second. “Neither of us are in fit state to apparate.”

“Of course.” Fleur assures dismissively. “You’ve sobered back to your worried self again.”

“Yes, but I’m no longer a recluse.” She retorts. “So, the evening hasn’t been all in vain.”

“I’ll take that achievement.” Fleur nods matter-of-factly. “Now, let’s go before we freeze.”

“Okay, okay.” (Y/N) chuckles. “Thank you for letting us share your booth.”

“Any time.” Fred curtsey’s mockingly. “Goodbye, Ladies.”

With a final eyeroll, (Y/N) loops an arm around Fleur’s waist and turns to make her way towards her own apartment.

As cliché as it may be, (Y/N) can’t resist the temptation to sneak a look behind her as they walk away, a last glimpse of the man she lost two years back. Expecting to see his back as he retreats into his apartment, she is startled to find him facing her, eyes capturing hers again. They’re not full of surprise or disgust as they had been at the beginning of the evening though. They’re the soft, brown eyes she remembers, the eyes that once held her hostage in the potions classroom, that shared secrets with only a glance across the great hall and that saw her as herself for the first time in her entire life.

Upon the realisation that his private moment has been witnessed, he turns away and follows his brother into the shop. A wave of tears stings her eyes before she realises what’s happening and they blur his retreating figure as they trickle down her cheeks.

“(Y/N)?” Fleur asks gently, coming to stop. “Are you crying?”

“Oh!” She jumps, turning back and forcing a painful grin. “It’s the sodding blisters. I hate heels.”

Fleur looks unconvinced, holding her friend’s eyes longer to try and decipher what’s caused this sudden bout of tears to spring loose. Frowning and with an almost imperceptible shake of her head, she lifts her hand and gently uses her thumbs to wipe away the tears from beneath (Y/N)’s eyes.

“You’ll ruin your mascara.”

Relief escapes (Y/N) in the form of a choked laugh. She’s amazed again at how perfect a friend Fleur is for not pushing her. She knows Fleur enough to know that she’s not let it go, but she’s willing to let (Y/N) come to her in her own time.

“Thank you.” (Y/N) sniffles. “I’m sorry for trapping you in my apartment all the time.”

“Nonsense.” Fleur dismisses.

“No.” She continues. “No, I’ve been selfish and scared. I’ll make an effort to be more adaptable in the future.”

Curiosity flood’s Fleur’s expression but a smile grows on her lips regardless and she lets out a soft, bell-like laugh. She hooks an arm through (Y/N)’s and guides the pair forward along the street again, huddled tightly to fight to bitter cold.

“You’re so formal at times.” She shakes her head. “Let’s get home and get your shoes off before you become a puddle.”

“Oh thank Merlin!”

#persuasion #george weasley x reader #george x reader #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george #george imagine #fred weasley #fred and george #harry potter #weasley twins #weasley #malfoy #draco malfoy #fleur delacour #fanfiction #reader insert #malfoy reader

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ofclaires · 3 years

Photo

IV. CLAIRE WALSH

PAST SELF PARAS: april 2020 / september 2020 / march 2021.

hi, before the read more i just wanted to say THANK YOU. getting to play claire has been absolutely a treat, a challenge, and genuinely, a huge part of my life for the past year and a half or so. it occurred to me when writing this and looking back at other things i’ve written for claire that i didn’t just feel like i was writing this for myself or for claire ; but i was writing it for you guys, too ! that has been one of the most special things about gallagher for me is the writing community that i feel like we built, taking such a huge investment in our characters and everyone else’s writing. i feel like i’m writing with and for some of my best friends. i also feel like i’ve grown so much ( ok, i actually don’t just feel like it, i can look back at those three paras and SEE how my writing has improved. ) i am so blessed to have gotten to write claire with all of you and to share her story, i feel like she has been so fucking beloved & it’s given her so much life. i am so proud of her and it’s really bittersweet that i’m finally saying goodbye to her as well. so, thank you all so, so much, gallagher has been a writing experience like no other for me & i love you all !

trigger warnings : domestic violence & abuse, death

PART ONE: CHILDHOOD.

The trailer that Claire spent the back half of her childhood in never felt like home. Maybe because trailers are made to be temporary, or the fact that if she accepted that this was where she belonged, she’d have to give up hope.

It’s normal Maggie Walsh to be out late, Claire’s usually cleaned up the kitchen and tucked herself into bed by the time her mother comes in the door – but she’s not sleeping. She’s always had trouble with that, brain bouncing around from one thought to the next until eventually she hears the creak of the door.

Her mom’s home.

She hears the usual stumbling, the clatter of dishes falling from where she’d neatly placed them on the drying rack. Maggie’s drunk, Claire’s sure of that. Ten years old and she knows what it means to be so drunk that you can hardly see straight, that the words you say under the influence are a different reflection from the person that you really are. She inhales deeply and crawls out from under the covers to check on her. Ten years old and she knows the steps: Help her take her makeup off, make sure she sleeps on her side, glass of water on the bedside table, trash can on the floor. Maggie is only twenty-six years old herself now, not done with her childhood by the time that Claire was born, not ready to be a mother. Claire’s had to figure it out most of it herself.

“Mom?” Claire knocks on the door lightly, plastic cup full of water already in hand.

“Don’t – don’t come in!” Maggie sputters, and Claire’s confused. She defies her request and opens the bedroom door the rest of the way. When she sees her mom, she drops the cup on the floor, small hands curling into fists.

“What happened? Who did that to you?”

“I told you not to come in here, Claire,” Maggie repeats, but Claire has always been on to disregard commands. She learns at a young age that authority only means older than you or some assigned title, not that they know best.

“Who did that? Why?” She repeats her questions. Despite being mature for her age, it’s hard for Claire to wrap her head around the black eye obscuring Maggie’s face, and the swelling on her cheek.

“It doesn’t matter,” Maggie sighs, dejected as she flops down on the bed. Even in her state, she knows that there’s not much use telling Claire to back off or go away once she’s decided that she’s not going to. Her little girl is a spitfire, strangely enough reminds Maggie a lot of her own mom, like living with a miniature version of her. Maybe that’s why Claire wins most arguments. “Come here.”

Claire walks closer to the bed, kicking the cup aside on her way for no reason other than to kick something. She crawls into bed next to her mom and looks up at her, waiting for more of an explanation or literally anything but silence.

“I don’t know why I keep looking for a happy ending. I leave you home alone, I come home like this...not helping either of us,” Maggie presses a kiss to the top of Claire’s head, runs her fingers through her daughter’s hair. It’s so soft and Claire is so little, she can’t help but look at the spilled cup on the floor with a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry,” she adds, voice choked up and words a little slurred. Tears squeeze out of the corners of her eyes when she closes them, hugging her daughter closer, “I’ve blamed you for my fucked up life for so long...that’s not fair.”

Now, Claire is only ten, but those are the kind of words that you remember forever. Still, she smiles. “It doesn’t have to stay fucked up. It can get better,” a childish spark of optimism in her heart that hasn’t yet been put out. It makes Maggie smile back though, kissing her daughter on the top of her head yet again.

“I like that,” she says, and they fall asleep curled up beside each other. Claire sleeps soundly, thinking that it’s possible. Things really could get better, and for a while, it seems like there really is a sort of shift. Maggie starts cooking, cleaning again, and she doesn’t even stay out so late. That’s when she meets Martin.

He seems better than the rest. Until he isn’t.

But Claire does her job as her mother’s protector, just as she’s been doing all of her life, and it’s that event that jumpstarts the rest of everything that happens next.

PART TWO: GRADUATION.

Claire’s come to the formal conclusion that graduation ceremonies are a waste of time. There’s all this build up, everyone’s so excited, and then you have to sit around and wait for your name to be called so you can spend two seconds walking across a stage while everyone claps. She would have skipped it entirely if her mother hadn’t already come up, and if she knew that people were going to insist. The small talk afterward is even more agonizing than the ceremony itself. It is sort of painful saying goodbye to everyone, and it occurs to Claire that there’s more people that she’s going to miss than she ever expected.

“Callum and his mother are here,” Maggie points out.

“And?” Claire rolls her eyes. Seeing Callum again to begin with had brought up a lot of old feelings, and generally, even though they’d resolved things, she tries to avoid him whenever possible.

“Well, it’s probably weird if we don’t say hello, at least, right? I’m going to say hello,” Maggie interjects, “he’s such a sweet boy.”

Claire’s eyebrows rise on her forehead as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Go ahead then,” she sighs, “I’ll wait right here.”

“Claire,” Maggie draws out her name with a withering stare, but Maggie has never been able to establish that sort of authority with Claire that would prompt any inclination of obedience, so Claire just shrugs her shoulders, unimpressed. She’s not going to budge. “Fine, I’ll be right back.”

Claire’s done her best to put the chapter of their life that includes Martin out of her mind when rekindling things with her mother, and she certainly doesn’t want to stand around making small talk with his other ex-wife, trying not to look at Callum with his matching jawline, trying not to remember everything she hates. It all comes back in a flash. The horrible cracking sound that her mother’s head had made when it connected with the wall, the blood on the marble floor. They say you don’t remember trauma properly, that your memory doesn’t work quite right, but she will never forget the way her fist connected with Martin’s face : like a puzzle piece, like it BELONGED there, and she’d done it over and over again until she heard sirens.

And yet, Claire can’t deny that it’s a part of her life that got her here, where she is today. She thinks life is shitty and random, and that not everything has to happen ‘for a reason.’ Still, she’ll catch Kass’s eye across the room and see her smiling so brightly that it seems impossible not to believe in something. Claire can’t help herself anyway – she smiles back. No one has ever been able to produce Claire’s smile in its truest form the way Kass has, unashamed of being so happy to look at someone. She once thought the idea of looking at a person and seeing your whole future was ridiculous, that you’d have to be stupid to put that much of yourself into someone, but it isn’t like that at all. All of it was unintentional, like by the time she realized it, Kass was already everything. And she feels so safe with that thought that she doesn’t mind at all.

“Am I interrupting something?” A figure steps in front of her, cutting off her line of sight. She’s not really fond of being snuck up on, so she opens her mouth to say something snarky when she’s met with the gaze of Lisanna Harlin, one of last year’s mentors. Her daughter, Elisa, is there, but she’s not graduating, so Claire’s confused by Lisanna’s presence.

“No, Ms. Harlin,” Claire says, though there’s a spark of indignation in her words that practically goes hand in hand whenever an adult commands authority.

“Lisanna is fine,” she says with a light laugh, like she’s amused Claire’s greeted her this way.

“Can I...help you with something?” Claire asks, mostly curious about how long this interaction has gone on. While she’s friendly with Elisa, she was Kass’s roommate last year, they’re not exceedingly close, so she’s not sure what else Lisanna would have to say to her other than maybe a polite hello.

It’s more than a polite hello. Lisanna Harlin works for Lexon Corp in Durham, North Carolina, a private military company that provides armed guards, bodyguards, and guns for hire. They’re the sort of place that would be looking for the best of the best in combat, and they have a bit of a reputation for hiring Gallagher girls. Claire had given up on the job search months ago since the video went out, in fact, she’s had a job lined up for graduation already : at a boxing gym in D.C., where the scene isn’t too bad. It was suited to her, but not exactly the sort of thing that her Gallagher education had prepared her for. Lexon Corp? Everything her rigorous love of January boot camps were tailored to. And they want to interview her.

A month later, Claire’s sitting on the cusp of a completely fresh start. It wasn’t easy to backtrack on the plans that she and Kass had made together, knowing how much was changing for the both of them, it had been nice to have the stable idea of an apartment together on the horizon. Now, she’s a four hour drive away, and she goes home to her one-bedroom studio in Durham after rigorous training throughout the day. But she’s grateful for the chance to work her way back into the field, and she can remember what Lisanna said to her when they gave her the offer.

“We’re aware that with your history that we’re taking a chance on you, Claire,” Lisanna said. “But we think the reasons that made other agencies look past you are exactly what makes you an asset. You care about your jobs, the people that you’re involved in, and you’d have a partner’s back until the bitter end. You listen to your intuition, trust your gut...and above all else, you have follow-through. I’m excited to be able to offer this position. Don’t prove me wrong.”

Claire swears that she won’t.

PART THREE: KIPTYN.

Kiptyn isn’t supposed to be in the left hall closet.

In fact, he’s not supposed to be awake at all. But who can sleep the night before their birthday anyway? Sure, he’ll be thirteen, and that’s probably old enough to have gotten over the magic of it all, but...he’d still been lying awake with excitement, the anticipation keeping his eyes open for hours on end. Well, that and the video game he’d been playing under the covers, but he’d obviously only been playing it because he couldn’t sleep in the first place.

Then he started thinking about the left hall closet and the conversation that they had at dinner the other night. In Kiptyn’s defense, Dahvia – his younger sister – had totally started it and he was an innocent bystander. After all, Kiptyn’s old enough to know that they don’t bring up Claire to mom, because it just puts her in a mood and then you can forget about doing anything else for the rest of the evening. But Dahvia’s ten, practically a baby, and she doesn’t know any better.

“Hey, mom? What sort of accident did Claire die in? Nina asked me at recess and I didn’t know,” Dahvia pipes up, before she’s even properly sat down. Kip visibly cringes. He’s older, wiser, knows this won’t go well. Still, he dares to look at his mom’s face and he notes the faraway look in her eye, like she seems to experience a bunch of things at once. Kip notices how even though her eyes are glassy, she doesn’t cry. Though sometimes, their mom will just cry randomly, like two weeks ago when he asked for help with his Spanish homework and she couldn’t even help him finish the first worksheet.

“It was a car accident,” she says stiffly, “eat your dinner.”

Kiptyn kicks his sister under the table and flashes her a look that says : Great. Look what you did, ruined dinner. Dahvia sticks her tongue out at him.

So, he knows that he’s not supposed to be in the left hall closet because he could ruin many more dinners, but he’s here anyway. He’s been thinking about it ever since they sat in silence for the rest of that half hour, and he’s come to the conclusion – his mother was lying. Because all sorts of things make their mother cry, like a bowl of mac and cheese or Spanish class, or motorcycles, and she won’t let Kiptyn take boxing lessons though his friend Robert is and he thought it sounded really cool, but she doesn’t have any problem with cars or driving, and also, she’s never told them a single thing about Claire except that. They aren’t allowed to know anything about her, especially not anything true, so Kiptyn is pretty sure that’s a lie. There’s just something just weird about it.

So, in the middle of the night before his thirteenth birthday, he looks up a video on how you pick locks and then he figures it out on the door of the left hall closet. He’s there for at least forty-five minutes, practically ready to give it all up when he hears the clicking sound, and then it opens. His first thought is : Woah. This is a load of junk.

And he’s right. There’s boxes upon boxes of paperwork, old clothes. Some things start to click, like when he finds a pair of worn boxing gloves with Claire’s initials embroidered on them. His favorite thing that he finds is the fattest scrapbook he’s ever seen – his mom always makes them, there’s one for every year of his life. Dahvia’s too, they love looking at them. The cover of this one, though, says Italy 2021. It’s all pictures of his mom and Claire, probably in their early twenties. Kiptyn mostly notices his mother’s smile, how he’s only seen her look like that a couple times in his life and yet it looks so EASY here, like she wears it all the time. It’s so strange to him. He sets the scrapbook down and crawls toward the back of the closet. His eyes land on two leather folders with gold embroidery, and he opens up the first one. In big letters at the top : GALLAGHER ACADEMY.

It’s a diploma.

This certifies that Kassandra Sutton has satisfactorily completed the…

“What are you doing?”

Kiptyn yells out like a child, not having heard anyone creeping up on him. He claps his hand over his mouth as if to shush himself. “The door was open! I don’t know how, but I just...noticed it was open and wanted to make sure that...no one was stealing your stuff!” he grins sheepishly, hoping that he can ride on the high of his birthday week to get him out of this one.

“It was just...open?” his mother looks down at him with raised eyebrows before brandishing a twisted paper clip between two fingers. The one that had formerly been stuck in the door. His guilty expression widens, he can’t help it.

“Okay, I might know how it opened,” Kiptyn admits. He hesitates for a moment, before he realizes that he’s ALREADY in trouble, he might as well just come out with it and pray to the birthday gods. He holds up the diploma with her name on it : “What’s Gallagher Academy?”

Kass’s sigh is heavy and deep, accompanied by the amount of exhaustion that comes with raising two curious kids by herself. After Claire died, she moved her family to London to be closer to their aunt and away from everything that reminded her of Claire. She never told her children why. From hiding that world from them, the world that took so many people from her : her father, her ex-girlfriend, and the love of her life. She swore that she would never lose her children to it, too. But Kiptyn looks up at her with wide eyes, desperate to know about his mother and his past, and Kass also knows what it’s like to have part of yourself missing due to family secrets that are being kept from you. He is practically a teenager now. So, she relents.

Kass doesn’t go into all of the details, of course. Just that Gallagher Academy was a school for spies, and that’s where it all started. Kiptyn already knew that his moms met in college, so it’s the spy part that’s most interesting to him. She talks about Claire with a light in her eyes he’s unfamiliar with, how she was one of the best fighters in their year, that she grew up with such a talent in the ring that she probably could’ve gone pro if her life had gone in a different direction. She talks about how they had to part ways after graduation, because Claire got a job in North Carolina and she got a job in Washington, DC, but they made it work, and both got very accustomed to the four hour drive – though it was sometimes closer to three for Claire, because she always drove too fast, even on this big, black motorcycle which Kass swears that she hated. She tells Kiptyn about how they got married, the way she’d almost moved to England for a dream job and that long distance threatened to drive them apart again – until Claire chased her down in the airport with a ring and proposal.

She also talks about how Claire really died : the abridged version. It was an overseas mission where they’d been cornered, and Claire risked her life to save the rest of their team. There were no other casualties, and the information they were able to bring back helped stop the terrorist organization they’d been chasing to end them for good. Kass tells the abridged version for her son, gives Claire a hero’s death. In some ways, it was. She doesn’t mention the ways that Claire was consumed by the case, it was an organization hellbent on killing spies and it likely reminded her of the brotherhood. Kass had been worried about the case the whole time, because it felt like Claire was taking it too personally. In the end, she may have been right : because Claire had let it take her life in order to close it. She also doesn’t mention that such a sacrificial death means that her wife died fighting alone, swinging her fists until her very last breath. But still, she was all alone.

She had no choice but to take her kids as far away from that life as possible.

Kiptyn tries, but he doesn’t really remember Claire. He’d only been three years old when she passed away, and before then, she’d been so consumed by her last case that she was barely present. Still, he thinks she sounds badass.

He falls asleep on his mother’s shoulder that night, looking through the scrapbook of pictures from their trip to Italy in 2021. He’s animated for the first part, pointing out buildings and asking questions, wonders if Claire was sweating in all that leather, but he slowly starts to drift off. He wakes up on the couch the next morning, no trace of the book or any of the other papers he’d hauled out of the closet the night before. He looks at the closet and there’s an extra padlock. Figures.

It comes up in little ways, like a private joke that he has with his mother, like she’ll say something and flash him a secretive smile. He likes that, and he understands that this is a big secret that he has to keep. It doesn’t come up again until his fourteenth birthday the next year, the summer before high school. It’s a strange letter in a manila envelope, sealed with some expensive red wax, his name written in fancy calligraphy. The most attention-grabbing part, however, is not Kiptyn Sutton-Walsh in big cursive letters. It’s the return address :

GALLAGHER ACADEMY.

learn her skills, honor her sword. keep her secrets.

#*#self para

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aperrywilliams · 4 years

Text

I don’t know you anymore/Part IV (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V

———————

Summary: The case is resolved and Reader is exonerated, but she must now think about what to do with her life from now on.

Word Count: 4159.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences. Angst.

Warnings: References to murders, dead bodies, drug traffic, illicit activities, curses, degradation words.

A/N: This is Part IV of “I don’t know you anymore”. Thanks to everyone who read this! This will end in Part V. I don’t know how to end it yet, so if you have some ideas, share with the class!

——————–

Springtime in the city Always such a relief from winter freeze The snow was more lonely than cold if you know what I mean Everyone's got an agenda Don't stop keep that chin up you'll be alright Can you believe what a year it's been Are you still the same? Has your opinion changed?

The trip to my apartment was longer than I would have expected. Fortunately, the police officer was silent the entire time. I was in no mood to talk. Upon arriving at the building, I thanked him and immediately went up to my apartment. I just wanted to shower and go to bed. Tears were streaming from my eyes. I didn't expect to have to relive things that still seemed painful to me, nor did I expect to have to find out horrible things like the ones I had to hear.

When I was going to open the apartment door I noticed something strange: the door was closed but not locked. I tried to remember if I had forgotten to locked it when I left to the police station. When I entered I began to look for the switch to turn on the light, when I was about to reach it, I felt some arms pulling me into the apartment, one hand covered my mouth to prevent me from screaming and the other slamming the door to close it. Everything happened so fast I didn't even try to scream, I was speechless with fear and stupor.

“(Y/N), it's me… don't make any noise. I'm not going to hurt you…". There I recognized the voice of Hunter who still had not removed his hand from my mouth. "I'm going to release you, but please don't scream...". I don't know if he expected me to do something different, but I just tried to nod. After a few seconds, he released me so I could turn around to try to look at him. It was dark, but my eyes were already getting used to the gloom so I could at least make out his figure.

"What the fuck, Hunter? What is all this?. Everyone is looking for you…”. My initial stupor was quickly moving to anger and need for answers.

"I know, I know. I know the FBI was interrogation you this afternoon...". I grab the switch of lamp settled on the hall table and turned on the light. I needed to look him in the eye.

"Well, sure they did question me. What's the list they said?... Hunter, there are dead women!... What's going on?” I said with a lot of concern.

“I can only tell you I didn’t do it. I didn't kill those women, you have to believe me..." he tried to hold my hands but I didn’t let him.

"Don't ask me to believe you because I don't even know what's going on..."

"I didn’t do it. And the list thing is a long story. The important thing now is you are in danger… we are both in danger…”

"Why me?..."

"Did you see the photos of the murdered women?... Didn't that seem familiar?" They all look like you (Y/N). Who killed them will come for you... and for me... that's why I'm here. To prevent him from doing something to you”. That was a detail I had repaired but I wanted to ignore. Neither detective Gibson nor Emily made any reference to it when they showed me the pictures, but I had noticed.

"Who is he?... what does he want?... please tell me something so I can understand...". My nerves made me finally burst into tears.

"Gabriel... he... he worked with me. He's mad at me and that's why he wants to hurt you, to hurt me. He knows we are together now and he knows I’d do anything for you…”. He couldn’t continue speaking because he was interrupted by a noise at first I didn’t know where it came from. When I was able to react and turn around, I saw a man who had kicked open the apartment’s door and was pointing a gun at us.

"Don't move!... Don't even try!... both of you stay quiet!" he was screaming frantically.

“Gabriel… hey! Man... take it easy. We're not going to do anything stupid…”. Hunter started to speak.

"Of course you’re not. I was hoping you would get my message sooner and repair this shit, but apparently it wasn't enough. I had to come to the source..."

"What the hell is this guy talking about?...". I couldn't keep my mouth shut. Not even the fear I felt at that time was able to keep me silent.

"Shut your mouth! You're the reason for this damn bitch!..." he answered screaming and pointing his gun straight at me.

"No! She isn’t to blame. I wanted to get out of this…”. Hunter tried to convince him, to avoid shooting me. He seemed determined to do it.

"For her!... You´re a fucking coward, you fell in love with this slut and forgot all the important things...". Gabriel said waving his gun and pointing it at me directly.

"She doesn't even know what we do... come on man! Leave her out of this...". Hunter yelled.

“I don't give a damn she doesn’t know. As long as she is alive you’ll remain to be a stupid coward. You even collaborated with the FBI!, you're a fucking shit!...”

"That was years ago!...". Hunter yelled back.

"I don't care if it was yesterday or 10 years ago. That’s treason and you have to pay for that…”. Gabriel said, with a voice so sinister it could make your hair stand on end just listening to it.

"Therefore, kill me. If you're so upset, kill me now!...”

"I will, but first it’s this bitch’s turn...". I froze. I felt him release the safety of the gun and aimed directly at me adjusting the view to pull the trigger. I saw my life go by in three seconds. Not even my instinct for preservation was activated. I just closed my eyes, waiting for the outcome. In this bizarre situation, I didn't care about anything anymore. I just wanted it to be over, and if that meant I had to die, well, it would have to be.

I heard the noise of a gunshot, but felt nothing in my body. I wondered if it had been so fast I was already dead and not having noticed. In the background I felt a body fall followed by a scream "Stop! FBI!” and a second shot. Another body fell to the floor. It was only then I was able to open my eyes. I looked down and saw Hunter lying across from me with a wound on his chest. Two meters ahead Gabriel was face down with a head shot and Spencer stood in the doorway still with his gun raised.

"Fuck..." was all I managed to say before my legs completely buckled and I fell to my knees on the floor.

***

I ran out of the car and saw an injured police officer at the entrance. He was the one who had brought (Y/N) and who was assigned for her protection. I approached him and he just told me he had been hit in the head but he had already called reinforcements and the suspect had come up to (Y/N) department. It was on the 3rd floor. I hurried up the stairs, I had already drawn my gun. Arriving at the floor I heard the screams of two men arguing. My heart was pumping desperately, I didn't hear (Y/N)’s voice and that terrified me. When I reached the threshold of the door I saw how one of the unsub opened fire in the direction of (Y/N), but the other unsub who was in the room managed to get in the line of fire himself receiving the shot in the chest. I yelled at the other subject to alert him to my presence and dissuade him to lower the gun, but I immediately saw he was going to shoot another shot in the same direction, so I didn’t hesitate and shot him. The impact went straight to his head, falling to the floor immediately. When I looked at (Y/N), had eyes closed and her arms instinctively raised trying to protect her face. Seeing her alive I managed to breathe again. She opened her eyes and saw what had happened around her. First she noticed the body of the man who had come between her and the gunman, then the gunman upside down on the floor and then me. She fell to her knees trembling. I lowered my gun and ran to see if she was okay.

"(Y/N)... are you okay?... Are you hurt?...". She was shaking her head but couldn't speak. I didn't know whether to get too close. If I hug her maybe it would make things worse. I just dared to kneel in front of her and touch her shoulder to see if she reacted. Suddenly she raised her head and looked at me. With eyes full of tears, she hugged me and began to cry. I held her tight to try to calm her down. "It’s ok, it's over. It's all over. It’s ok, everything will be fine…” was the only thing I could tell her. A few minutes passed and the room filled with police. Behind them Emily, J.J., Luke and Rossi who upon seeing the scene immediately knew what had happened.

I knew what was coming. Maybe we should go to the police station again. (Y/N) and I would be questioned about what happened. But first I had to get (Y/N) to calm down and check if she was okay, at least physically. Paramedics arrived on the scene at that minute.

"Hey, we need the paramedics to check you up, okay?" I said in the softest voice I could. She nodded, not saying a word yet. I got up to allow the paramedics to do their job. She looked at me with pleading eyes, as if she didn't want me to leave. "I’ll be here. I won’t leave. I'm just going to talk to my boss and wait for you to be checked, ok?”. She nodded again. I approached Prentiss to tell her what had happened.

"Reid... what the hell happened here...?" Prentiss said with visible confusion on her face.

"Emily, if I was one minute late, (Y/N) would be dead...". Prentiss snorted.

"Do you think she can stand another interrogation?" she asked looking at (Y/N).

"I don’t know. But I don't think it's a good idea to take her to the station again. Besides, we already know what happened here”. I said, trying to dissuade her from that idea.

"But she can't stay here, it's a crime scene" said Emily.

“Can we get her to stay in a hotel while…? I don't think she want to go where someone she knows and has no family here”. I said, trying to ponder options.

"It's okay. Yes. We can fix that. Will you stay with her?” She asked me.

"Only if she wants to. If not, can we ask someone from the team to stay with her for today?”. I wasn't sure if she would reject me, but I also didn't want her to be alone.

"Yes. We can. Let me know”. Emily said before turning to speak to the officers who were photographing the scene. I stood there waiting for the paramedics to finish checking on (Y/N). When they turned away from her, I asked them about her condition.

"Physically she is ok, just some bruises on her wrists, but nothing else. But she's just coming out of shock. It is important to be watched and take a tranquilizer later night. I just gave her one now, so she should be quieter” said the paramedic before retiring. I thanked him and approached (Y/N). She still looked at me with watery eyes, but she felt somewhat calmer.

"How do you feel…?" was the only thing I could think to ask. Stupid question, but I had to say something.

"I don't know... I don't even know what just happened..." she said as took a visual tour of her living room.

"Yes. I imagine you are confused. I can explain more about this, but we should go somewhere else. You cannot stay here. We’ll make an arrangement for you to stay in a hotel today, unless you want to go to a friend…”. I said, analyzing her reaction.

"No... I can't let people see me in this condition. I can go to a hostel for tonight. Spencer, don't worry about me, I can manage on my own…”. It was the first time she said my name. It was impossible my memory didn’t go through our moments together and all the times that 'Spencer' ever came out of her mouth.

“I know you can… but… I wouldn't want you to be alone… today at least. If you don't want me to come with you, someone from the team can do it. And don't worry about the hotel, it's the least the FBI can do given the events…”. Did not answer. She was silent, inspecting the place again with her eyes.

"I need to get my clothes... or some of them at least..." she said almost to herself as she went to the bedroom. I figured I should wait for her so I nodded and stood in the same place. After a few minutes she left the bedroom with a bag. I gestured to her to leave the apartment, still full of police officers and CSI’s.

I opened the passenger door for (Y/N) so she could get in and left the bag on the back seat. I started driving on the way to the hotel where she could stay, it was the same one where we were spending the night so I knew the road. Neither said a word the whole trip. I felt like she wasn't there. Absorbed in her thoughts only with her gaze fixed on the window. When we arrived, I took out her bag and we reached the lobby.

"I'm Dr. Spencer Reid of the FBI, I need the key to the room assigned to (Y/N) (Y/L/N) reserved a while ago..." I said. (Y/N) wasn't looking at me, just had her eyes on the lobby decor or whatever else caught her eye. With the key we went to the elevator and went up to the 4th floor where the room was. I opened the door and let her in first. Then I entered and put her bag on the side of the hall. I stood to the side of the door. I didn't want to be intrusive and she sure wanted me to go.

"I... I’ll go to my room. It's right downstairs. You can settle in. If you want you can take a shower and change your clothes, or maybe you want to go to bed. Maybe you're hungry, I can ask you some food to room service, just tell me if you need something…”. I said trying to be brief, but of course, that has never been my strength. She turned to look at me. I think in the last few hours this was the first time she really 'saw' me.

"Could you... stay... a while?. I’ll do all you said, but I also need to understand and someone explain what happened. I need to know why Hunter is dead now and why I'm in the middle of this. Could you do that for me?... I don't really trust anyone else right now..." she said in a muffled voice, something that deeply touched me. Her confusion mixed with sadness further plunged the stake through my stomach. After all... I had some responsibility at the origin of this tragedy.

"Yes, what you need. While you shower and change I can order something to eat. You’re ok with that?...". She nodded, taking her bag and locking herself in the bathroom. I picked up the phone and called room service to order something to eat. I sat in the armchair at the entrance to the room and took my cell phone. I had a message from J.J.

"How is she? Are you going to need someone to stay with her? We are leaving the police station and going to the hotel. Emily said we were leaving for DC tomorrow at noon”. I wrote her everything was ok for now and thanks.

(Y/N) left the bathroom a while later. She had changed her clothes. She put her bag down on the side of the wall and sat on the couch. The food had arrived, so I moved the cart closer to the couch and uncapped the containers. I took a chair and sat in front of the sofa and next to the car with the food.

"It’ll be good you eat now. Surely you haven't done it all afternoon and night…”. I said, showing her the food. She nodded. A faint smile appeared on her face when she noticed one of the dishes was a pastrami sandwich, her favorite. Or at least it was when we were together. I had also asked for a hot chocolate, which I also remembered as one of her favorite drinks when it was cold.

"Thank you. I see there are things you have not forgotten…” she said, taking the sandwich.

"I assumed it was still your favorite..." I said with a small smile.

"Aren't you going to eat...?" She asked.

"Yes, I ordered another sandwich and a coffee..." I replied pointing to the rest of the things in the cart. With that said, I started eating myself. We were silent until we finished eating. She took a napkin, wiped her lips, her hands and left it in the cart.

"Well... while the medicine effect lasts... please tell me what all this was. Don't skip details. I need to know” she said, crossing arms over her chest and resting her back completely on the couch. I nodded and started to speak. I related to her from the beginning, that is, since we were assigned the case in Quantico. I told her about the deaths, where the list had come from. Hunter's relationship with the FBI, about the ‘cleaned’ properties, drugs, his partner... everything. As I spoke I watched her reactions and her body language. While I could see how she tensed each time I added more information, I could also see that things were making sense in her mind, as if she were putting together the pieces of a complicated puzzle. When I finished talking, she let out a sigh and bit her lower lip as if trying to hold her thoughts.

“So… it could have been me from the start. So those women shouldn't have died…” said (Y/N) shaking her head.

"Don’t say that... all women on the list were potential victims..." I tried to take out the thought from her mind.

"But I was the source of his anger... he said that to me". (Y/N) tried to refute me.

“You just channeled it. Hunter was his source of anger…”. I replied. I knew she was looking to blame herself and it wasn't fair.

"And now he's dead..." she said with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I’m so sorry... I know you were together. I'm sorry you lost the man you fell in love with…”. I said trying to offer condolences for her loss. She lowered her head.

"You know?, Hunter was a very good man to me. Always patient, attentive, loving. It hurts me I couldn't ... reciprocate ... even though it was a small part of the love he felt for me. The poor man ended up losing his life for a woman who… would never love him as he loved her…” (Y/N) said outlining a sad smile. I didn't know exactly how to react to that. So she didn't love him? Did that give me a chance? Did she ever stop loving me?

"He made his decisions. You can't blame yourself for that. Finally... we cannot pretend what we aren’t or do not feel..." I said.

“Yes, they were not very smart decisions. But I don't blame him, I haven't made the smartest decisions in my life either…”. Was she talking about us? Why couldn't I get that out of my head? I didn't want to say it, but it just came out. I had to know.

“(Y/N)… I know maybe this is not the time to talk about this… but since you are talking about the decisions we make in life… when you told me we had to end our relationship to have at least a nice memory of what was… was it true? Did it end up being a good memory for you…?” I asked, leaning over the chair, resting my arms on my knees. She thought for a moment.

"It is. In fact. It was a wonderful three years Spencer…” she said giving me a warm smile. I felt I had a hard time swallowing. I wanted to tell her everything that was stuck in my chest, but I couldn't do it.

"Also for me…". It was the only thing I could say. An uncomfortable silence settled between us. I broke it by changing the subject. "What will you do now? Do you plan to stay in Philadelphia?..."

"I don’t know. At the moment I have my work here. I’ll have to find a place to live, but it should not be difficult. But I don't know, maybe I don't want to be here anymore. Maybe now I should try luck in Chicago…” she said with a shrug. I nodded.

“I know there is a lot to think about. But it's late and you should rest. Tomorrow you can start to see what to do. I can help you in whatever you need. Now you should try to sleep. If you need anything, I’m in room 321, you can call me directly from here…”. I said as I got up from my chair to go to my room.

"When are you going back to DC? ..." she asked.

"Tomorrow, at noon..." I said with a grimace as I walked to the door. She nodded.

"Okay. Well ... thanks Spencer. You saved my life after all. Gabriel was going to shoot again if you hadn't stopped him…” she said scratching his forehead as if trying to get the image out of her head. I just nodded. I didn't know how to respond to that.

"Try to sleep (Y/N). Tomorrow morning I’ll call you to ask how you are…”. It was the only thing that came out of my mouth.

"I'll try". She came over and gave me a hug. "Thanks again". When I tried to hug her back she was already away. I was awkwardly silent and left the room. She closed the door behind me. And I didn't say anything. Everything was still as stuck in my chest as before. Defeated, I returned to my room. I had one night to try to think what I was going to do. Would I let her go again? Would I let her get on with her life? Life that was so much more fragile than when we arrived in Philadelphia. At least now she was in no danger. But was that enough for me? I wanted her. How could I get her back?

I made my way to the bathroom. I took a short shower and went to bed. I lay on my back looking at the ceiling. My head was spinning. I couldn't force (Y/N) to do something she didn't want to do. She had to make her own decisions, it was her life and I had no right to interfere. But I could honestly express my feelings. I could never really tell her I was sorry, despite having broken my promises I still loved her and even being with another woman there was not a day I didn’t want to be with her again.

I was deep in my thoughts and insomnia when I felt two knocks on the door. I jumped out of bed, something could have happened to (Y/N) and maybe she needed my help. Without even looking through the peephole I opened the door. In front of me was the very (Y/N), with a jacket over her pajamas. She didn’t move or say anything.

"(Y/N)... did something happen? Are you okay?...". I asked with concern. She didn't say anything, just got close enough to me that I could feel the heat radiating from her body. She stood up on her feet and as she wrapped her arms around my neck pressing her lips to mine. With no time to lose, I reciprocated the kiss by wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her into the room as I slammed the door shut with one leg. Was this my chance? My last chance? Maybe I was about to find out.

———————

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid angst

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blankdblank · 3 years

Text

Hobbit Soulmate Pt 36

“Excuse me,” when you had hung up a nurse on your left who flashed you a smile in return for yours, “We were thinking you might want to wait in our more private waiting room?”

Richard asked, “The cameras, right?” She nodded and he helped you up and kept his arm around you for the walk to the more private lounge cluing the cameras to back away from the door.

“You can sleep you know, I’ll wake you up when they come back.”

“I’m ok,” you said in the third time you lifted your head from its try to droop again only luring a sigh in his shift to cuddle closer to you in the loveseat in uncomfortable proportions that even in its painful state his warmth had your head on his chest letting you drift off again. Warm presses of his lips to your forehead came in distracting intervals between swaps of each magazine at your shift to curl more against his side, lap and chest contenting him at least that you were resting. It was his day off so at least he could help you to keep Lee company until he took you home for dinner surely to come back again and fetch him tomorrow morning after they had kept watch of him a night. Nowhere in this was there a silver lining on finding your best friend on the ground in pain unable to catch their breath after being woken to their banging on the wall between you as hard as they could manage through that. Just that this invasive surgery was one of the least major in terms of simple procedure when caught early, which it was, and the uselessness of the organ in that once removed the person lives a perfectly normal life after this physical tantrum of sorts is resolved. This had to be his first surgery alone and had you not been there Richard might have frozen in panic or had you not taken the role there would have been no key to let you both in to get to Lee within time. At least for now he could let you sleep while the shock of it all had his body unable to relax enough to dare to drift off.

One hour ticked by and just a hair shy of the halfway mark to another the knock at the door had your head lifting in a deep breath, an action shared by the relatives of a teenager come for a procedure of their own. To the doctor from earlier entering the doorway you looked easing your legs down as she asked, “Pace family?”

You nodded as the other family slumped back and he came closer saying, “Lee came through in flying colors, no complications or anything serious was found in the procedure. It looks like you got him here early enough he should be just fine in a couple days. Sorry it took so long there was a technical glitch with our monitors when we were trying to scan after the surgery, but the stitches should heal up nicely and he really should be just fine after a few days in bed. The scan should be over now and I can take you back if you like?”

You nodded and stood with Richard dropping the magazine on the table beside his seat walking at your side opposite the doctor who led you through the doorway he closed again to guide you back to the empty private room Lee’s name was written on the board by the door. “Now, we will be keeping him overnight to ensure there aren’t any complications, but like I said there really shouldn’t be. I’m gonna go check on those scans but they should be wheeling him back any minute now if you want to wait inside and he should wake up not long after that he’d be glad to see you when he wakes up.” He looked you over asking, “What you told him before, the steps, Lee mentioned you were almost a doctor.”

“Um, not like a surgeon I’m nine credits shy of four doctorates in Science fields and Engineering. But I’ve researched the procedure for relatives when they’ve had it before.”

“Impressive, well if you ever need an internship we’ve always got some open slots here in our labs.”

“Thank you,” he nodded and moved past you.

“I’ll keep you posted,” he caught Richard’s eye, “Your Brother is just fine get him comfortable and you can head home and get some more sleep.”

To that Richard nodded thanking the doctor and led you inside where he chuckled to himself and led you to the window cushioned bench saying, “I take it Lee was rambling to keep calm before the surgery.”

Weakly you chuckled, “Did the same thing when he broke his foot back in New York. I still get letters from St Helen’s where he did his physical therapy after. Apparently he’s a bit fuzzy on my degrees.”

Richard, “At least your dad will be pleased, you have plenty of options.” That had you giggle weakly and smooth your hand through your bangs to brush them away from your face only to have them fall back again.

“This is a big room,” you said looking around the private suite, “I had to share when I got my tonsils, behind one of the curtains a woman was in labor,” luring Richard’s eyes to you, “Or passing a kidney stone, think this is from the cameras?”

“Oh I think it is most definitely from the cameras.” He said peering out the window catching a passing news truck drive by his focus on the window turned your head and he said, “I think that was a news truck.”

“Oh fuck,” you mumbled, “Let’s just throw gasoline on this fire.”

Clatter through the door however turned your head to see Lee’s giant sedated self being rolled in by two bulky guys who looked the pair of you over. The one on the back freezing just long enough to hiss at his hand being rammed into the doorframe off the bed rail he was holding shifting his attention back to the task at hand. To the bare spot they rolled and parked the bed and got to hooking up the monitors then both paused to look the both of you over.

“Thank you,” you both said and the larger got to patting his pockets.

“Would it be poor taste to ask for an autograph? My family loved your film.”

“Oh, sure,” you both said as the second guy with his throbbing hand got to finding his own note pad and pen for you to take turns signing the sheets for the duo who seemed on the edge of bashfully curtsying their way out of the room they shut the door to behind them.

Softly Richard said at the shift of Lee’s foot under the cover beside his bag of clothes they changed him out of, “Go sit by him. He’ll need some cuddles when he wakes up.”

“You ok here?”

“I’m good, go get on the bed.” Pressing another kiss to your forehead and his hand nudged you off the bench.

Up onto your feet you stood and sighed making your way around the bed to shift the remote they had laid there to ease up on his tube free side to not get snagged in his IV or heart monitor chords. Right against his side you settled catching his sighing self inching more closer to your warmer self for the start of a few minutes of that through your fingers smoothing his hair right again. To his grumble at the sound of a shouting patient on a bed rolling past your room his brows furrowed and you said, “Morning caterpillar.”

That split one of his eyes open and his body shifted more against your chest until his heart monitor beeped again and it seemed to click where he was. “I’m here,”

Richard smirked saying while your arm eased behind his raised head to loop your arms across his chest to keep him in bed lying down. “Came out with flying colors. Hour and a half. We called your parents and Jaqi said we’d have you call them later.”

Lee looked to you asking, “It went ok? The pain, I’m still a bit numb.”

“Then you should stay lying down, stop working your abs lay back. You have to stay in bed.”

“Why?”

“Because you had an organ removed, they’re gonna keep you overnight and the doctor said you should recover easily if you take care of yourself.”

Richard, “When we get back home we’re moving your bed into ours you’re not sleeping alone for a few days at least, our rules not the doctor’s.”

Lee wet his lips asking you, “What’d it look like?”

“Well,” you sighed out, “It was about three pounds and had these feet,” he shook his head and bumped his arm into your side making you giggle and say, “They didn’t bring it out for a walk. Maybe if you ask nicely they might still have it somewhere in a bag you can look at.”

“I don’t want to look at it!”

“Then why ask me what it looked like?” You giggled out.

“I don’t know! I’ve never lost an organ before!” That had you cuddling closer to him and he sighed, pausing for a minute before saying, “Fuck, Jaqi your premier! And my premier! I just lost an organ!”

Richard, “You’ll be fine in time for that. Just need to rest a few days.”

Lee’s mouth dropped seeing the second news truck driving past the window, “News truck! Tell me there was a bank robbery or a train crash!”

“Lee, you need to calm down, the doctor will be back in a bit once he checks the scans they took of you,”

“Scans, why’d they take scans? You said I was-,”

Over his mouth your hand clapped and he sighed with brows furrowing, “Lee, they took something out of you they’re going to take pictures for your file. Now breathe because the doctor said you will recover just fine, you just need to rest and relax. I’m going to move my hand, inside voice.”

Down your hand moved and he said, “Why is the news outside?”

Richard, “Probably because they saw me carrying a body out of our building and she drove us here.”

“Great,” Lee replied sarcastically, “Now my appendix has us in the center of a murder inquiry!”

“Oh now stop it you big grump, one day in bed won’t kill you I’ll call the show team in the morning,”

“Oh the show,” he said moving a hand to cover his eyes, “I’m gonna have to call my agent. Damnit why am I still so tired.”

Richard, “Lee, in the morning. And sedation doesn’t leave you well rested in some cases. Meaning you need to rest and we will handle the calling and messages.”

“You haven’t slept either, they’re gonna want you to set,”

“Lee, don’t make me flick your nose. No negative Nancy here,” the door to the room was knocked on and you turned your heads to the door and you smiled saying, “Hey Doctor.”

He smiled saying, “Look who’s up, good. I can see you don’t seem to be in any pain. Scans look excellent, like I told your family here just a night in here for observation and then you can go home bright and early tomorrow morning. Few days rest and relaxation keeping up on your food and drink intake should see you right as rain and in a few weeks those stitches should be ready to be taken out.”

Lee wet his lips, “How long until I can fly?”

The doctor inhaled and said, “Roughly a week should do it, how soon do you need to be flying?”

“Week after next to New York then few days after to LA and back again a few days later.”

Doctor, “Oh that should be fine then, as long as your work isn’t too strenuous, no heavy lifting over ten pounds for a week though try for two if you can and try to avoid stairs to keep those abdominal muscles rested. Keep up on the food and drink plenty of fluids and you should be fine as I said.”

Lee nodded and said, “If I wasn’t able to fly we could always take the bus.”

Doctor, “How long is the bus ride to New York?”

“About eight hours,”

Doctor, “Fly, if something were to go wrong worst case then they could get you seen to faster than on a bus.”

“I’ll make sure he behaves,” you said making him chuckle.

Doctor, “You don’t have anything to worry about as long as you listen to her then. Few days off your feet and then ease back into work, a drop by in a week here for a follow up scan for good measure and you should be ready for your plane. Now, I think by those circles under your eyes we should let you try to rest up till breakfast. Be back to check on you then see how you take to the food and if you’re having any discomfort at all.”

Lee said when the door closed again, “We still should call work.”

“Fine, I will go call them from the lounge.”

“Thank you,” he said as you slid off the bed and made your way into the hall from where you came finding another empty lounge you lifted the cell phone in your hand to your ear having found the right number to dial.

Three rings and you heard the voice on the other line answer abruptly with a tone eager for explanation, “Jaqi?”

“Hey, ya, I just wanted to call to let you know we had to take Lee to the hospital a couple hours back,” a shifting of a book or something had your eyes narrowing as you realized you were on speaker.

The speaker device allowing another to ask, “Is he alright?” Clearly anticipating the worst.

“He’s much better now he had to get his appendix out,” sighs and exhales of relief went through what you didn’t know to be a disheveled war room of sorts wondering what person the female lead had drug off to the hospital in the middle of the night for who knows what reason. “The doctor says he has to stay overnight for observation but a couple days off his feet being fed and kept on his fluid intake and he should be himself again. Though he can’t lift over ten pounds for about a week to two or climb stairs. But he got through with flying colors and just wanted me to call and make sure you guys knew.”

“Ok,” a third voice stated you knew to be the director, “We can switch focus to scenes the pair of you aren’t in for the next couple days so you can take good care of our boy and keep him following the rules. He should be able to run some lines by Thursday, right?”

“He should, I know my cousins were raring to go after two days in bed when they had theirs out. He should be fine with the talking scenes just light work.”

The first asked, “What about his premier I know he was excited about that?”

“Doc says he can fly in a week so by the time my premier and his roll around he should be back to himself. Everything ok there? I know we saw some cameras outside,”

“You just leave that to us we’ll send somebody over to give them a statement to let you guys head out in peace and calm them down. Somehow they got the notion you had Jennifer Garner carried into the hospital instead.”

“I’m sure Lee would be flattered to hear that,” stirring a few chuckles in the room.

“We’ll let you go get some rest Jaqi thank you for the call.”

The call ended and with an update for his family and a warning text to Jen along with an apology back you went, once that door was shut again you said, “They think you’re Jennifer Garner,”

Lee said as Richard chuckled, “I look like Jen? I don’t know if that’s a compliment for me or an insult for her.”

Richard smirked saying, “Not mad then,”

To which you answered, “They want us back on Thursday, till then I am to keep you following Doc’s rules. They’re glad you’re ok. And they’re gonna send someone to talk the cameras away.” At his side Lee’s hand patted and you crossed the room saying, “Now, off my spot caterpillar.” A smirk tugged across his lips as you settled back into your spot returning your arm behind his head letting him rest against your chest. Resting his hands on your arm laid across his drawing it more around him to cling to like a teddy bear of sorts. To the tilt of your head into the side of his you murmured, “Just get some sleep, we’ll have you back to your bed soon enough.”

Right off his eyes shut and Richard smiled signaling you to sleep as well in his shift to take up the window bench for himself in the wait. True to their word the show did send someone who gave the press statement clearing the cameras away as the mystery was gone along with any darker possible rumors circulating as to who and why you had brought here. Hours past sunset on their third check of the vitals on the sleeping patient this new nurse smiled to herself at the pair of you nestled in the bed while Richard on his back with legs propped up against the wall filling the bench snoring softly.

A muffled ring from your pocket was the start of the avalanche of shifting bodies around the woman formerly trying to listen to Lee’s pulse with a stethoscope to not wake him now halted as you squinted at the number on the screen of Lee’s phone. Deeply inhaling his head turned to the Nurse for his own squinting moment at your numb arm being eased out to slide off the bed answering the call. “Hey,” out of the room you slipped while Richard grumbled closing his eyes again for a few more minutes sleep.

Though through the line Lee’s Agent clearly not expecting your voice asked, “I must have dialed the wrong number.”

“No,” you said avoiding a passing few people to get back to the lounge saying, “You’re Lee’s Agent, I have his phone the Nurse is with him now. Um, if you haven’t heard yet he had his appendix removed last night.”

“Yes, I saw that on the news this morning. How is he doing? I assume this is Jaqi I’m speaking to.”

“Yes, he’s doing well, got through the surgery with flying colors, just over an hour since we got him in early enough. They do keep patients overnight after this surgery but a couple days off his feet and about a week light work and no lifting over ten pounds and he’ll be back to normal in no time. My cousins have had his surgery before and two days later they were eager to get out of bed.”

An exhale was heard through what you imagined to be a plan forming pause and he asked, “Rough estimate, two weeks out how would he be?”

“Oh, he’s cleared to fly after a week. So there’s no reason for him to miss his premier at all, called the show heads last night and they’re expecting us back on Thursday and they’re going to keep it light for the couple weeks till we travel. I’m gonna make sure he takes it easy to not hurt himself.”

“That’s so good to hear after waking up to that news, and explains why the producers didn’t call me themselves.”

“No, ya, it was in the dead of the night and I did promise Lee to call you first thing and if it was more serious where he would need months to recover I would have called right off. I am sorry to have worried you that wasn’t the intention.”

“Thank you for that, Lee has always boasted about how much care you take of him and having him so far from his family having a force like that watching over him. Often the younger actors I’ve dealt with are left to their own, and usually in my experience trips to the hospital aren’t as simple as an appendix surgery.”

“Yes, the show had the same impression as well.”

“I have a phone call I have to make, however right after I have a scheduled call to the team for Soldier’s Girl and I will let them know that everything is still on schedule for the premier and press afterwards. I’ll give him a few days to lay back and then I will call with the scheduling, you said he will just be in overnight?”

“Yes, should be out around breakfast tomorrow morning. I can have him call you then if you like.”

“Oh no, but I will make note of that in case they do have questions for me to pass on to Lee. Hope you have a nice day and thank you again.”

“Not a problem, and you as well.” The call ended and you sighed smoothing a hand over your face in pocketing the phone to bring out your phone to start answering the text messages backed up in your phone from friends you calmed their worries.

“Jaqi,” the knock on the door to the lounge opened behind you had you turn to grin at Jennifer Garner in the doorway with a teddy bear in hand.

“Hey,”

“How’s Lee?” Lifting the bear, “Brought him a bear.”

“Thanks, ya, he’s in bed just answering a call from his Agent. Sorry about the news pulling up your name.”

That made her smirk and say, “To be honest I’ve been getting a lot of love from the mistaken identity. Helped a bit to brighten things in my slump. Best calls I’ve gotten since the break up news hit.”

“Well I’m glad me hauling a body out of my building in the dead of night helped you out, I really am.”

“You think Lee’s up for a visit?”

“Oh ya, I’ll go poke him for you,” a smirk eased across her lips turning to open the door again and follow you out to the private room.

Jokes started up upon your return as Lee accepted the bear and hug listening to how the night went for you guys until his breakfast arrived and Lee nudged you to the door saying, “You head home and eat,” kissing you on the cheek, “I got my remote and my bear, try and make something of your day off. Go on,”

“Fine,” you said trying to hand over his phone that he shook his head at.

“Rather you keep it. For my luck someone would run off with it when I try to nap again. I will see you tomorrow morning.” His eyes shifted to Jen in her glance at her phone she pulled from her purse now buzzing and he lowly asked, “Could you bring me some clothes?”

“Sure, wouldn’t just leave you in your undies.” His moment of pained brows had you asking, “You weren’t wearing underwear?”

“I was going to do laundry on our days off.”

Chuckling to himself Richard leaned in to hug Lee rumbling lowly, “We’ll do your laundry and bring you something comfy to come back in. Rest up, and call if you need us.”

Lee patted his arm in its time across his chest with a creeping grin, “Thank you, and so-,”

Richard, “No apologies.” Crossing the room to join you now at Jen’s side to head out as a group to go back to your place so she could keep you company as you ate until she was off to meet another friend that was in town for a few days letting you and Richard go fetch Lee’s clothes to wash, dry and take back to his place with a choice to bring him the following day. After lunch while Richard made a stop to another meeting for work you popped by the hospital again sneaking in the underwear for Lee he gladly accepted help in easing on under his gown to relax at least that he was covered if they came in to check his stitches later on after you’d left again.

Outside your doorway Tracy stood at your door turning to the sound of the lift opening with mouth open eyeing the takeout bag in your hand you picked up on the way back, “Tracy, sorry, were you here long?”

“No, how are you doing?” She asked seeing the tired written all over your face coming over to give you a hug, “Were you at the hospital all this time?”

“No, got back after breakfast but Lee needed underwear,”

She gasped stepping with you to the door taking your bag to let you get your keys out, “He did not go without any!”

“Apparently his appendix couldn’t wait till he did his laundry. But I’ll bring him some fresh things to go over his undies when we go to pick him up.” You said letting her inside switching on the lights and locking the door again. “How’s your day off been?”

Fetching a drink from your fridge to take deeper into the apartment you answered. “Good, heard about a couple roles today been reading through some scripts but I wanted to come check on you. How are you doing with all this? I know you and Lee have your past, and you sort of keep an eye out since his family is away with his Grandma.”

“I’m ok on that front,” you said. Settling the food out on the coffee table with the drink to settle down on the floor leaning against the couch you oddly didn’t want to sit on but against right now while she sat on the chair to your left leaving her bag on the table with eyes fixed on you in the brush of your hair from your face. “I don’t really remember my mom, I just get this dream of the hospital she died in when someone I know is in one. Lee’s fine, he’ll be back in the morning to crash here for a couple days,” you sighed and shrugged, “Just some weird sub-conscious shadowy thing that just swoops over me for a day or so.”

“Well that’s, not good, but,”

You giggled softly, “It is good. Besides have to admit it was fun to hear from the show team that they thought I’d drug Jennifer Garner off to the hospital at the crack of midnight. Which Lee loved to hear.”

“Oh I’ll bet,” she said in your lean forward to open your bag to pull out the boxes for the full spread narrowing her eyes, “All that for you?”

“Richard should be back soon,” she nodded and you said, “You don’t have to leave, he’ll probably be needing a distraction messaged something about some odd photo shoot he had to do in some weird leather getup.” Making her smirk, “He always has a fun time on his shoots.”

“When is your next shoot? I saw your spread for that college edition, just barely got a copy of my own with two guys trying to snatch it away from me thanks to that cover of you. And that one you did for the Tony’s, stunning, do they have one for this show?”

“They do, out in spring but I think it’s more of a casual behind the scenes thing. And I do have some planned shoots when I’m back in England and Richard’s Agent said I have had some offers for a commercial out there for a few brands.”

“Like clothes, or food or like electronics, stuff?”

“I don’t know,” you giggled out, “Just hope it’s not perfume, or I might die,” making her giggle with you while you opened the first box easing out one of the forks from the napkin you brought from the kitchen. “So what green pastures do you get to wander off to after this show?”

The question luring her smile out again, “One of them actually is a musical.”

“Ooh,”

“I know, it’s so good and I can’t wait for it, won’t be starting till next year for filming but hope I could get there already.” She looked you over, “Maybe if you need a distraction while Richard is away I could bring some scripts over.”

That had you shaking your head, “Oh I will be fine. I do enjoy my time to myself every now and then.”

“I get that,” she said with a nod relaxing more into her seat, “With my ex, between school and work you just need time to breathe.”

“Which, I love him, I guess it’s just after having been alone so long through school just having evenings to myself to do what I want, especially like in New York where I can walk to the park, the zoo or the movies. Which I guess flips when we do get together and we share as much time as we can get together, especially since he’s been getting crazy auditions lately since the first time being seen with me for publicity.”

“How does that work? Are they films?”

“Mainly tv work,” gaining a nod from her as you blew on your first bite of still scalding food. “For now helps us because my projects have been huge, months of filming and being away so between his plays and tv slots he can fly out and that even got him some extra slots on the Lord of the Rings trilogy too. But I think he likes shows and indy slots better along with plays where I like musicals and bigger films, so it kind of meshes.”

She smiled as you took a bite, “It does work, and I’m so glad it works out for you both, I do know if anyone can make this planet bouncing act work you can.”

After a huff while you chewed Richard’s voice sounded out to the open and close of the door he locked behind him, “They folded me in half inside this giant wooden thing, then had me in this tub and threw a bucket of water at me.” Entering the living room he dropped his coat on the couch with hair still a bit tussled proof of his ruffling it dry before having rushed back. “Tracy, bet you’ve never had that at one of your shoots.”

Tracy chuckled, “No, they tend not to dump water on women with hair like mine and Jaqi’s. Too hard to get dry again. I still don’t know how you got yours dyed.”

“Took a group of Drag Queens to do it.” She chuckled at Richard’s plop to settle beside you stealing a kiss on your cheek in his reach for your drink.

Tracy smiled and continued to through the meal and lounging bout after relaxing until she was ready to head to her place to start on the dinner she’d planned for herself allowing you and Richard to relax through your own supper once you’d moved Lee’s inflatable bed into your spare room while that cooked along with his toothbrush and soaps he might need. Though cuddled in bed the deflating tender pecks stolen before sleep crept in aided in the deflating drift of all the stress that had built up through the day and night prior. Sweet murmurs however helped to welcome this morning for an eventful day. Tenderly Richard helped you to wake and get dressed to head over to fetch Lee before his having to head off to work leaving the pair of you lounging about at the apartment.

True to your word after two days of helping to keep Lee off his feet and relaxed between nights in your spare room Thursday morning everyone on set was glad to see Lee at your side raring to get into the first outfit for his first scene. To keep his abdominal strain down they let him keep his boots and jeans and just swapped his shirt flashing a glimpse of the bandage over his hip bone for the scar easily missed should it heal properly pending his behaving to the rules you set and adorably enforced to the rest of the cast and crew jumping in to help when you were apart to grant you a break.

Just under two weeks of building up strength again found Lee smiling at your side eager to see this new film of yours on the cusp of his big debut. Press didn’t die down and even in Jen’s trip home again to ready for the Daredevil premier coming up and her new season of Alias the cameras lingered for more amusing taglines and Richard’s favored nickname of ‘Boy Toy’ still lingering around. Flip flopping back and forth, it seemed no one had a clue just which of the guys you were liking, up to even adding an amusing story that you might actually be in a secret relationship with Tracy instead filling the sets with laughter at one of the crew showing the story off to everyone.

Photographs to the squirm inducing role post reunion with the small group of actors in this film. Again in the background you floated in and out of the screen with hand intertwined with Lee’s all the way to the credits and parties afterwards. Sleep wasn’t to come soon as post party and interviews from New York to LA you went to drop down in the hotel room Lee’s pleased Agent had booked for the pair of you.

Early in the morning Ian’s arrival came right in the middle of your shower for the Soldier’s Girl premier. “I am glad you are feeling yourself again, Lee.”

“Yes, Jaqi finally let me carry my own bags for the flights since the Doc gave me the green light. Just have to get my stitches out when I get back and I’m back to work full force again. Just hope they didn’t have any sort of dance thing planned for the after party.”

Ian chuckled saying, “I doubt they would force you to with stitches in or at the very least without rehearsals.”

Lee wet his lips and asked, “Anything like this happen to you before?”

Ian smiled saying, “Not surgery, however, I have had plenty of opening nights where I was less than glimmering in my beginnings. You are not the first actor to have a physical drawback, though be pleased at least you are handling it in stride compared to others. I do know Orlando from our trilogy broke a rib and we still haven’t heard the end of it. All while Jaqi had an imprint of her ax in her ribcage and ran for miles afterwards, dislocated her knee, ran till her fleet bruised over entirely upon scores more injuries and nights soaking away the irritations of the glues they used on us without a word.” He paused a moment and said trailing a sharp inhale, “I do however have one tip,”

Lee nodded sitting up and flinching his fingers over the buttons of his black shirt, “Anything, I’ll take any advice.”

“You are quite young, and my advice is to keep close to Jaqi. Very rarely do you meet someone with a heart like hers, there will be people who will try to separate you, get you alone.” The warning stirring up hints of memories back when he was entangled with Jordan in school, “When you are young you can be quite naïve and gullible, and there will always be those wolves in sheep’s clothing who try to ensnare you off the path. While some might take Jaqi’s position along the side at her after parties as far too quiet there is a mastery in that stance, building up mystery and allowing the press to be intrigued and approach to their whims. It is a fine line where one can command attention while not doing anything obvious to lure focus to themselves, something magnetic, and you have that I can see it. Others hurl themselves into the crowds and force interactions and their presence upon the crowd, tonight is your night, bask in it, and this is nothing to say you are doing anything wrong.”

“No, I understand. My exes were like that since Jaqi, under lights and cameras they seemed to be so loving while they were soul sucking leeches. Both demanding I break with Jaqi. Thank you, it is so hard trying to find balance in staying true to my sort of wallflower self and still show to the press why I won the part.”

Ian said, “Sometimes you just have to let the work speak for itself. I can say when we tripped Jaqi that first time we met her tiny self we didn’t see ballerina, then we watched the show and it was beyond stunning, and again with Chicago, sometimes the face in person and the character don’t match but there are those that vanish in their roles and are chameleons. I am certain by what Jaqi has shared with us you did amazing in the film and we will love it. Roles like this take such bravery especially as this is your debut, so young to play a transsexual, this could be a groundbreaking role for you, I hope it is.”

Comfy in a sleeveless silver dress you exited the bath and smiled to the pair ruffling your hair out readying to this nerve wracking outing. This was a day premier and much like Lee had shared before his own nerves watching each debut of yours tangling his tongue in knots. Years ago this had been filmed yet the excitement was still there in this reunion and right beside Ian you got to watch Lee soaking up brushing up on each of his friendships from the set with each of them raring to finally see what all their efforts resulted to.

Explosive wasn’t close to how Lee came across and praise came flooding in for the performance and film with ample press to follow. One shoot for you on the beach in a freezing open house the spread you had been scheduled for helped to distract you through Lee’s busy days ending with another nap filled flight back to Canada with your beaming friend armed with reviews and articles on him and the film to show off and save for himself.

One more week you had to soak up time with Richard before he turned in his rental car and flew off to Europe to finish Frozen. Comments on time alone again didn’t prove to be what you needed at all when you came back from set alone to the empty apartment. On the verge of tears to the bedroom you went to change out of your cold clothes and inside the closet was when the dam broke seeing his clothes gone including the empty cubby he had been so careful to keep his secret possible gift to you hidden inside. Demanding gifts wasn’t your style but left alone with just a sweater he had folded under a note on the foot of the bed something special to have to keep close or at the lease show off while he was gone. Tucked in half while the tears came out freely against the wall you wished he’d have left you a chance to actually take up the role of boasting girlfriend like Hugh and others had teased you about before. If you couldn’t have him here beyond pictures, notes or phone calls selfishly you ached to have more than the sweater you eventually would end up nuzzling up to once changed, fed and tucked into bed.

Pt 37

Hobbit – Soulmate - @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @rhaenaatargaryen, @anastasialovers

X all Rich. A - @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress

X Lee P - @tigereyesf

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455

#Post Op #Important Calls #Jennifer Garner and teddy bear #Tracy visits #Out of the Hospital #Back to Work #Big Premier #Ian McKellen #Richard Armitage x Reader OC #Lee Pace x Reader OC

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sonicgetsrawed · 4 years

Text

Don’t Forget to Remember Me

Here it is boyz! The WIP I shared the other day! Dedicated to my dearest friend @kairannosaurus-rex for inspiring me to actually finish it! You the best! Enjoy!

It had been a terrible idea now that he thought about it. Just a small weekend trip in the mountains, not even that far from the main city of Corona, just enough to get away from the hustle and bustle of it all. Truthfully the trip had been nice, finally since the whole library debacle Hugo had some alone time with Donella to work through their odd new dynamic. It was his return when things had gone downhill. The day before he left Varian had insisted on taking care of the library by himself to allow Hugo ample time to get things in order for the weekend, he’d have never agreed if he knew that the younger would run himself into the ground taking on project after project until finally it blew up, quite literally, in his face on the first night of Hugo’s absence. He pissed when he learned, fully expecting to return to the loving embrace of his boyfriend ready to eat up the tales of their adventure, instead he was met by Rapunzel. Not that he had anything against the princess, soon to be queen, it just wasn’t what he was expecting. Then he was told about the accident and that’s when the anger hit. Why hadn’t he been informed sooner? He could’ve left his trip early. But that’s not what Varian would’ve wanted, Rapunzel had insisted, and fucking screw her for thinking she knew what Varian would’ve wanted. So he demanded to be shown to Varian, demanded to see him, demanded to be told the extent of the injuries, demanded to know what the fuck had happened. And then he saw him. In those too white sheets, in that too small bed, in that terrible loose hospital gown. Bandages wrapped around his head, arms, almost everywhere. His lip split, his right eye purple in a bruise, the deep gash over his left cheek. Nothing seemed to matter anymore as he rushed to Varian’s side, taking his hand in his as if to reassure himself that he was still alive.

Time had stopped, nothing seemed relevant anymore besides the steady drip of the IV fluids. It was a terrible sound, the dripping, the ticking of the clock, his own breathing and heartbeat in his ears. Not even the nurses voice could reach him in this void. No one could. All he knew were those sounds and the boy in the bed, the boy who hadn’t opened his eyes in weeks.

Then as suddenly as they had closed, they opened. Those lovely baby blues staring back at him for the first time in far too long. Hugo could hardly contain his excitement as he leapt out of his seat and pulled Varian into a tight hug. “Thank fuck you’re awake. You scared us so much, Goggles. You have no fucking idea I-“

It took him too long, too fucking long to realize there was no recognition in those eyes. There was nothing at all just a blank stare and furrowed brows. He tilted his head ever so slightly an action that used to be endearing but now shook him to his very core. “Who?”

And he couldn’t respond, couldn’t breathe all he could do was stare into those eyes. Stare into the nothingness there. Because this wasn’t his Varian this- this was, nothing.

He didn’t realize when he was pulled away, didn’t realize how he fought the nurses until his world was turning black. All he knew was the nothingness in Varian’s eyes, he was nothing in Varian’s eyes.

Hugo blinked, the stark white ceiling above him coming into focus. “What happened?” He asked, wasting no time in sitting up and swinging his feet over the side of the bed. He couldn’t waste any time Varian may not have recognized him, but he still needed him. His head was pounding, mind fuzzy as the last remnants of sleep wore off.

“You fought the nurses like a fucking idiot when they tried to tend to the boy. They had to sedate you.” Hugo rolled his eyes at Donella’s answer, of course as soon as they returned to Corona she would revert to her snarky attitude.

“Varian, his name is Varian. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Hugo hissed, moving passed her, determined to find out more about Varian’s condition.

“Regardless, he isn’t taking visitors.” Donella retorted, cutting Hugo off.

“Like hell. I’m his boyfriend-“

“Not to him, you're not.” Hugo froze at her words, Donella’s hand latching onto his forearm. He wasn’t sure if it was for support or to keep him from running to Varian’s side. Either way he hated the words that came from her mouth. “He has amnesia, th- Varian, doesn’t remember anything. Not the princess, not you, not his father, not even his own name.”

“Then I’ll make him remember.” He flinched at his own voice, the words coming off harsher and more threatening than he’d intended. The point still stood, he'd help Varian remember who he was, who they all were.

“You can’t force him to remember, he must do so on his own. If you force something like that it could damage him more.” Donella said, pulling Hugo’s arm so he was forced to stop his forward march.

“Then what do I do?” Hugo asked, his resolve cracking. Any fight he had breaking as the reality of the situation hit. He had lost a part of Varian, all of their memories together, all the hurt and the love they fought for gone. It was terrifying, what if he never remembered? Would he still love him?

“Just be patient, that’s all you can do. Have patience.”

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

“This is our room?” Varian asked, making his way around the room, running his hand along the bed as if it would help him remember. It had been a week since he’d woken up and nothing had changed. Today was his first day out of the infirmary and Rapunzel was positive getting him back in a more familiar environment would do wonders for his memory. Hugo wasn’t so certain. Varian jumped as Ruddiger rubbed up against his legs. “Does it always do that?”

Hugo picked up Ruddiger, the raccoon easily settling on his shoulders with a sad chitter. “He does. He is your raccoon.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Varian mumbled, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. His eyes darting to the single bed. Hugo knew immediately what was going through his mind.

“Don’t worry about sharing a room. Rapunzel is setting me up next door.” Hugo said with a sigh. He was trying his best to be patient but it was hard when nothing seemed to jog his memories. He had to keep reminding himself it had only been a week, he just needed more time. Until then he would be sleeping in the other room with Ruddiger.

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

He was exhausted, so fucking exhausted. He’d been running the library and managing the royal engineer duties for a month. Quirin and Donella were helping as much as they could, but even then he seemed to be swamped. Even when he wasn’t working he spent most of his time with Varian. They usually didn’t say much, just sat in the castle library and read. It was peaceful, but he missed their conversations, the odd ticks Varian had when he got particularly excited about something, the small snort that wiggled its way into his laugh sometimes, he missed Varian. Unfortunately he still didn’t remember much, no matter what they tried nothing seemed to work. He was quickly losing hope that the Varian he knew would ever return. Not that there was anything wrong with the way Varian was now, it was just different. He just needed a moment of peace away from it all, five minutes completely to himself.

He quickly made his way up to the roof of one of the towers of the castle. Since the rooster had been dismantled he’d often escape up here with Varian when they needed a moment away from the hustle and bustle of the castle. Hugo easily made his way out onto the roof, startling slightly when he saw Varian already sitting there, the wind blowing in his hair as he sketched in his notebook. He smiled softly at the familiar sight. Varian’s tongue poking out as he concentrated on whatever he was working on. Hugo quietly made his way over, sitting down next to him as he stared at the younger, who had yet to acknowledge his presence. “Whatcha working on, Goggles?”

Varian wrinkled his nose at the nickname, but didn’t say anything about it. He supposed the name didn’t make sense when he’d been without his goggles since he’d woken up. “The princess, uh-“

“Rapunzel.” Hugo supplied, he hated how since the accident he seemed to be struggling to retain information, it was concerning and something the doctors had been looking into.

“Right, Rapunzel, said I should try keeping a journal, write down whatever I remember in it.” Varian explained, blowing his hair out of his face as he finally looked up at Hugo. “I don’t think it’s working. Nothing seems to be working. Everyone is trying so hard and I just- Hugh, I can't remember anything.”

Hugo pulled him close, letting the younger cry frustrated tears into his chest, his shirt sticking to his skin the more he cried. “It’s okay, you’ll get there eventually.”

Varian laughed bitterly. “I don’t want to get there eventually. I want to be okay, I want people to stop tiptoeing around me. I want to be able to laugh at inside jokes I used to know, to remember the silly stupid things, the little things that used to irritate me. I want to be me again.”

Hugo gently cupped his face, moving the stray hairs out of Varian’s eyes. “Give yourself time. This was a pretty serious injury. I think you remember more than you think, so give yourself a little credit.”

“I do?” Varian asked through his sniffles, wiping his tears away on the back of his sleeve.

Hugo nodded, smiling lightly at his boyfriend. “I think so. Why did you come up here? Or call me Hugh? You didn’t call me that until we started dating. And this place, you’d always come up here when you needed a break, specifically from-“

“Rapunzel.” Varian finished, a slight smile working its way onto his lips.

“Exactly.” Hugo said, gently poking Varian’s nose, earning him a small laugh.

“Thank you. You’ve been amazing through all of this.” Hugo didn’t get to respond, Varian closing the distance between them and bringing their lips together. It was a wonderful feeling, to finally be able to kiss him after months of not. And as much as he’d love to devour him then and there, he let Varian set the pace, keeping the kiss short and sweet. Until Varian finally broke it. “I’m sorry, that must’ve been really weird for you. I know I’m not exactly the same person you fell in love with-“

Hugo cut him off with another kiss, this one more passionate, more needy. “I will love any version of you, in any universe. I love you, Varian, and just because you don’t remember our time together doesn’t change that fact. We’ll just have to make new memories, better ones.”

“I’d like that.” Varian claimed his lips once again, Hugo wrapping his arms around him and pulling him as close as possible. It would take a lot of work to get to where they had been, but he was going to make sure they got there. And when they did he’d make sure those memories were ones Varian would never be able to forget.

#tangled the series #varian #varigo #varian/hugo #hugo #varian and the seven kingdoms #amnesia #donella

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tonystarkissist · 4 years

Note

How about... tony is jealous of happys role in peters life?

Thank you very much for the prompt! I actually had a lot of fun with this one :D It’s been a while since I’ve written something so simple and short and it was actually pretty nice!

Word Count: 1879

It didn’t really bother Tony all that much at first. He saw it as more of a blessing than anything else that the kid had decided to subject Happy to his ramblings and elaborate voice messages instead of him. It kept his phone message free and his mind sane.

Though, as time passed by, the lack of direct communication just seemed to piss him off more and more.

It was like the kid deliberately took every possible alternative just to avoid speaking with him directly. Heck, the kid had his phone number… his phone number. He never even gave Steve his personal phone number. So, there was no valid excuse for the kid not to call him. Yet, the brat felt the need to make it difficult and relay all his messages to Tony through Happy. And, yeah, okay, Tony might be a bit more understanding if Happy didn’t have the forgetfulness of an elderly man suffering of Alzheimer’s, but he did, and it was quite literally like pulling teeth when he needed to pry information from the man.

“Hap, where’s Peter? You were supposed to drop him off here an hour ago.”

“Oh yeah… the kid’s real sick. He called me this morning and told me to tell you he couldn’t make it. Sorry, I forgot. The kid’s Aunt had me runnin’ all around town trying to find this special Tylenol medicine for him. Oh, by the way, the kid was wondering if you had any super meds leftover from Steve. He kept burning through that over the counter stuff in like 5-minutes.”

It even got to the point where Happy would simply just forward any voice messages he received from Peter straight to Tony because it was such a hassle for him to remember important things. Tony even told the kid that too, suggesting that just maybe he might consider calling his phone to give his after-patrol reports just to make things a little easier, but the kid grinned sheepishly at him and shrugged his shoulders with a simple “I don’t want to inconvenience you Mr. Stark.”

Tony, of course, had rolled his eyes and insisted there was no inconvenience at all. Still… the kid never called and he never texted. The only communication he received directly from the kid was their twice a week meetings in the lab after school got out.

Even then, Tony got the vibe that the kid wasn’t all that comfortable being around him. He refused anything Tony offered him and he wasn’t at all the rambling motormouth Happy made him out to be.

“Kid, you want something to eat?”

“No thank you Mr. Stark. Happy took me to Burger King after school. He even let me get a shake too!”

Tony wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t. Jealous was a very strong word. And he wasn’t jealous.

And besides, there was no reason to feel jealous. He was Iron Man. An Avenger. A billionaire. The owner of a multibillion dollar company ran by his stunning fiance. He had no reason to be jealous of his hot-headed, grumpy, slightly delusional head of security who was oh-so desperately in need of a girlfriend. No reason.

Except, maybe he did feel a little prickle of green against his skin when he was reminded of the developing relationship between his mentee and good friend. It was inevitable, really. It should be expected they grow at least a little close. Happy picked him up from school twice a week. Drove him to the Tower and back. More often than not, the man stopped to grab food, per Tony’s instruction, so the boy could eat his fill. Heck, all the things Tony really knew about the kid were via the channel Happy Hogan.

“Y’know, the kid had braces a year ago. Has the retainer glued to the back of his teeth. The kid hates popcorn, ‘cause the kernels always get stuck.” The man had told him while Tony was trying to brainstorm bonding activities for him and the kid and got the idea for movies and popcorn…

“Yeah, the kid hates peppermint. He says it’s ‘cause of the Spider bite. Spiders hate peppermint.” Happy had told him when Tony started freaking out after the kid dashed out the penthouse, hacking and gagging all the way. It was near Christmas… and Pepper loved her Christmas candles.

“You sure about that Tony? The kid’s kinda paranoid when it comes to creepy crawlies.” Tony had learned when his resolve to bond led him to an idea involving spiders, behavior studies, and perhaps a little learning of Peter’s spider-like idiosyncrasies.

Tony liked the kid. He liked the kid a lot. One of best he’d ever met… and the kid obviously worshiped the ground he walked on. And every so often the kid’s shy, tentative exterior would break away and he’d be able to catch a glimpse of the snarky, fun-loving teen beneath it. But sometimes he wished he had more time to spend with him. Maybe then a level of trust and comfort could develop because at this point he felt very out of the loop when it came to important matters.

He was a busy man, he understood that. He understood that he couldn’t always be the one to run to his aid when he got into some trouble. That’s why he had Happy keeping an eye on him… He just wished the kid was more inclined to confide in him rather than the body-guard working under his payroll. Many times, he’d get a call from Happy in the middle of the night, half asleep and exhausted, to tell Tony the kid had found his way into some trouble again and he was requesting back up. It wasn’t that Tony minded the 2am wake up call… he just would have preferred listening to Peter’s voice instead of a grumpy old man’s with sleep apnea.

“Uh, Tony… the kid got hurt again. Just wanted to let you know… I’m bringing him to the med bay and he should be fixed up and back to business before you and Pepper get back from your trip.” Tony had listened to the message and immediately raced the suit back to New York, leaving a confused Pepper alone in their hotel room with a promise to return. And sure enough, as soon as he touched down on the landing pad and made it to the medical wing, Cho was already pulling out the IV from his arm and Happy was helping the kid stand. Tony remembered the exact moment the kid spotted him in the doorway. He was hoping for maybe a little surprise or excitement at his sudden appearance, but all he received was dread. “Mr. Stark,” he had said, “you didn’t have to come. I told Happy not to call you. It wasn’t a big deal.”

But the thing was that it was a big deal! A very big deal because the kid had been hurt and the kid hadn’t wanted him to know about it.

Tony eventually just waved it off with an excuse claiming the kid just hadn’t wanted to inconvenience him again. It didn’t mean anything. Happy was the most logical person to call since Tony was out of the country. It didn’t mean anything. The kid wasn’t picking favorites… so that meant he couldn’t be jealous since there was no reason to be jealous.

Then, one evening while Happy was driving him and Pepper back to the Tower after their date night, a realization hit him. He was tired. Pepper was tired. And they were both drunk off their asses from the champagne and whiskey. Tony doesn’t remember what he said, but he does remember the sharp laugh that emitted from the front of the car. Happy had laughed… he had never heard Happy laugh before. That sound alone broke his drunken, giggly trance with Pepper and he was staring at Happy suspiciously, suddenly concerned that his driver had been guzzling some drinks of his own while he wasn’t watching, but Happy had waved him off. “It’s nothing Boss. I just remembered some silly joke the kid had texted me the other day.” The kid had texted Happy a joke… not because he was hurt, or needed to be picked up…. He hadn’t told Happy a joke simply to fill the silence in the car as they rode together to the Tower, or ate burgers and drank shakes at a lousy table in Burger King. Nope… the kid had gone out of his way to share something with Happy. “He calls ‘em Memes. They’re actually pretty funny.”

Pepper wasn’t so happy with him that night. His feathers had officially been ruffled and he brooded the rest of the night. Pepper had called it pouting, but so what?! Peter had picked a favorite and it wasn’t him…

Despite his growing aversion to the sprouting relationship between Happy and the kid, he didn’t do anything to stop it. That is… until the last straw had been pulled when Happy tried taking a couple hours off.

“The kid’s got a science fair today. He asked me to come and watch since his Aunt had to work.”

Long story short, Happy wasn’t the only one that went to watch Peter win first place.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter squeaked in surprise when Tony approached him, wearing a proud grin and eyeing the trophy in the kid’s hands. “What are- what are- what are you doin’ here?”

“Well, a little birdie told me about your science fair being today. I couldn’t miss out on that, could I? And really kid… really? You didn’t invite me? That one hurt. A stab to the back that was.”

Peter stammered out a long string of apologies and Tony clapped his shoulder with a lighthearted laugh, dusting off the trophy in Peter’s hands with the side of his index finger. “Don’t sweat it, kid. Now how about I take you out for some ice cream? I’ll break you outta this joint and we’ll have some fun.”

“Uh,” the kid’s eyes flickered over to Happy and Tony felt a small wave of jealousy rake over him. There he said it. He was jealous! He wanted the damn kid all to himself. He wanted to be the favorite. Was that so much to ask?

“Nope. Don’t look at him. Just you and me. It’s my turn.”

Peter’s face breaks out into a shy smile and Tony can barely hear his answer over the loud chattering of kids surrounding them. “Uh, yeah… that would… I think that would be kinda nice.”

“Great,” Tony grins, throwing an arm around the boy’s shoulders to pull him closer. “I got the feeling that this is the start of something wonderful kid. Let’s go all out, huh? Ice cream, then back to the Tower for pizza, movies, and some more ice cream. We can watch Star Wars.”

Tony didn’t think it was possible, but the kid’s smile grows even wider. “That sounds awesome Mr. Stark.”

“Sure does,” Tony smirked in triumph and shot Happy a patronizing wink over his shoulder. The man just rolled his eyes and Tony lead the kid out of the gym.

***

Tony’ would also like to happily report that after a month of his incessant demands for Peter’s attention and love, the kid felt it necessary to text him his very first 4 in the morning meme…

… and Happy didn’t get one.

#irondad #irondad fic #iron man #tony stark #peter parker #happy hogan #jealous Tony

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deadbiwrites · 5 years

Note

PROMPTS!! I want a pumpkin picking date with Kara pouting a lot bec Lena said they can’t just casually take the 800lbs pumpkin home. Bonus points if Lena caves and ends up paying some guy enough money to buy it and supergirl flies it back to their apartment to carve it. Maybe it can’t fit through the door?? I’m not sure.

(Oh my WORD, it took forever and a day to get this to post but I did it, dammit! @valkyrieskwad , this one's for you! Cross-posting it on Ao3!!)

"You want to what?"

Kara grins and bounces in place, totally unperturbed by Lena's decided lack of enthusiasm. "Pumpkin picking! There's a patch, like, an hour away. It's so cute, I follow them on Instagram, and everyone looks like they're having so much fun in the pictures! It's almost Halloween, too, so we need to go soon or all the good ones will be gone."

"The good ones…?"

"Pumpkins, Lena! Pumpkins! C'mon, please?"

"Isn't this exactly the sort of thing Alex makes fun of people for? Being basic?"

"Alex doesn't know what fun is if there aren't guns involved, so who cares? Please, babe? Be basic with me!"

Lena arches a brow at her, already caving under the weight of her girlfriend's boundless enthusiasm and the rare (and doubtlessly strategic) use of 'babe'. "Is it a muddy field?" she asks suspiciously.

"Uh… wear boots?" Kara tries, still smiling. "We can take the baby. He'd love it, and we need to work on socializing him, right?"

Lena turns her attention to the little white puppy snoozing on her lap, running a hand over his back absently. "I mean, yes, we do, but a farm?"

Kara's affronted, or at least playing at it. "Uh, I halfway grew up on a farm, thank you."

"And look what's happened because of it."

Kara laughs, shaking her head, somehow charmed even though Lena knows that she's being a brat about this whole thing. "Why do you hate pumpkin picking?"

"I don't like doing things unless I'm already good at them."

Kara scoffs at this. "You can't be bad at picking pumpkins, Lena. It's just like when you were a kid."

The long stretch of silence at this is telling.

"Lena," Kara says slowly, "have- have you ever been to a pumpkin patch?"

"I buy pumpkin at the store in a can, like a regular person. Half the work, half the price."

"But you can't carve a can of pumpkin puree!"

More silence. Krypto wakes up, shakes his whole roly-poly little body, and lays back down for another nap, snuffling as Lena rubs between his ears.

"Lena. Please tell me you've carved a pumpkin."

"I- I've seen people do it, so-"

"Oh my GOD."

"Kara-"

"What- what did you do at Halloween? No pumpkins! That's like half the fun, aside from all the candy and costumes, and…" Horror spreads across her face almost as fast as a creeping red flush spreads over Lena's. "Honey. Sweetie. Baby. Please, please tell me that your childhood included just one iteration of a normal American Halloween…?"

"Define normal..."

Kara jumps up from the couch, fuming. "I'm gonna punch your mom in the boob. Is it Tuesday? They do visits at the prison on Tuesdays, right? Because, like, I know she's in prison, repaying her debt to society, or whatever, but I'm still gonna go punch her in the boob."

Lena grabs Kara's hand, tugging her to a halt. "Alright, first of all, I appreciate and share the sentiment. Second, please never put your hands anywhere near my mother's boobs. Third, we're gonna stop talking about my mother's boobs, forever. Starting now."

"That's just… why does she suck so bad. Like, so, so badly, she sucks as a person. So bad. Badly sucks."

"Okay, yeah, you're doing that thing where you're so mad you make word puzzles, so I need you to sit down and hold this puppy." Lena lifts Krypto (who growls his fiercest growl and bites her fingers for disrupting his 18th nap of the day) and pushes him into Kara's arms, gratified when she instantly melts, just a little. "Better?"

"Yeah." She heaves a sigh and drops onto the couch beside Lena once more. "Look, if you really don't want to, we don't have to. But it is fun, and it is a disgustingly cute couple-y thing to do, which I know you love even if you pretend you don't."

Lena scoffs. "Prove it."

"You drag me into every photobooth you see and have a collection of all the photos in your desk at work."

Lena flushes a little more, knowing that she's been caught. "It's fun?" she asks quietly, spinning her chunky silver ring around and around on her finger.

"So fun. And it's a good excuse to get out of the city for the day." Kara scoots close, tipping her head so it knocks lightly against Lena's. "Instead of beating up your mom, what if we just make sure you get to do all the stuff you missed, like pumpkin patches and carving Jack-o-lanterns, and all that jazz?"

Lena considers this. "So, we're doing this at least partly to spite my mother?"

Kara beams at her. "Yep! You're gonna get all muddy doing something frivolous just because it's fun. She'd hate it."

"When are we going?"

It's a few days later that they're piled into a borrowed pick-up truck and coasting out of the city in the early morning. Lena has relented the wheel, for once, conceding that she hates driving outside the city and she has no idea where they're going. At least Kara was right about one thing- Krypto is already having a blast, trying his best to stick his entire upper body out the window, and yipping in annoyance when Lena continuously pulls him back into the cab.

One benefit, though, is Kara in what she calls her 'farm clothes', a heretofore undiscovered genre that involves a sturdy and well-loved pair of leather boots, what is clearly a men's flannel shirt tucked into a pair of faded jeans secured with a heavy leather belt, and a goddamn trucker hat.

Lena's really annoyed at how much this look is working for Kara.

Totally annoyed. No other emotion. Or like, squirmy feelings about it in general.

None at all.

"... and of course we'll get some breakfast- hot cider and doughnuts sound good to you?"

Lena blinks, realizes that Kara's been chattering this whole time. "What was that?"

"I asked how you feel about getting some breakfast. You okay? You're kinda spacey today."

"Says the girl from space," Lena snarks.

Kara rolls her eyes, amused. "That joke was only funny the first hundred times."

"Still makes me laugh."

"Fine, fine. But you're good? 'Cause I can hear you thinking, over there."

"I'm good, I just… is it stupid that I'm nervous?"

Kara takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. "Not at all. But you don't need to be nervous or anxious, because it's fun. Okay?"

Lena nods. "Okay." She shifts a bit on the old-school bench seat in the truck. "Why did we borrow this thing, again? My cars are a lot more comfortable."

"Well, Frank would yell at me if I got mud all over one of your cars."

Lena snorts. "He would not, he loves you."

"And, this way, we can get a big one." There's an almost manic gleam in Kara's eyes that's distinctly disturbing.

Lena chooses not to ask questions.

It is not a muddy field.

The dirt road they pull onto doesn't look all that promising at first, but the pumpkin patch itself is pretty, in a rustic, outdoorsy sort of way. Even early in the day there's a decent crowd here, and Kara grins at the sight of the picturesque red barn a ways away cheerfully advertising cider and doughnuts inside. "Nice! I hoped they'd still be doing the cider and stuff!" She hops out of the truck and rounds the front to help Lena down- whoever this behemoth belongs to had installed a lift-kit to it, and it's a fair few feet to the ground.

"I thought this was a pumpkin patch?"

"Well, yeah, but there's an orchard next door or something, so they have apples and pumpkins. And pears, apparently. Ha! A-PEAR-ently! I'm funny," Kara cackles, settling her hands on Lena's hips.

"You're lucky you're so cute," Lena snorts and scoops Krypto up, bracing a hand on Kara's shoulder as she's lifted easily out of the truck and onto the ground. "But you being able to just pick me up like that? Always a turn-on."

Kara laughs, loud and surprised as a flush creeps up her neck. "Good to know."

Lena smirks and sets Krypto onto the ground, and their day begins.

"So," Lena drawls, chewing an admittedly delicious cinnamon cider doughnut, "what constitutes a good pumpkin?"

"Well, obviously, you don't want a squishy one."

"Obviously."

"Tiny ones are cute, but it's really hard to carve them."

"Noted."

"Other than that, it's all personal preference. I say go big or go home, Alex likes the really round ones, Eliza likes hers to be smooth, and Jeremiah loved ugly pumpkins."

"Ugly pumpkins...?"

"Oh, yeah, like, the weirder and bumpier the better. He was really good at carving them, so he could do, like, super cool faces and stuff. He made a witch one time that was really creepy."

Lena pushes up onto her toes to plant a kiss on Kara's cheek. "He sounds like a fun dad."

Kara smiles a little sadly. "He was."

Sensing a rapid downshift in mood, Lena resolves to perk the fuck up. "So! We did doughnuts for breakfast- which I strongly suspect was your real motivation for this little venture…"

Kara's mouth drops open in shock, but her eyes are sparkling with humor. "I would never!"

"Sure. So, as long as the pumpkin isn't soft, it's fair game?"

"Yup! Go nuts! I couldn't get a pumpkin last year, because of that guy from Yavin IV, I'm gonna get a big one this year to make up for it."

Lena fixes her with a look. "Not too big, though, right?"

Kara smiles innocently, letting Krypto tug her a pace or two ahead. "Of course not."

Lena sighs.

Kara really is a terrible liar.

"Lena."

Upon seeing what's caught her attention, Lena nearly drops her own perfectly round pumpkin. "No. Under no circumstances are we getting that one."

Kara's starry-eyed as she stares up at the truly gargantuan squash before her. "It's beautiful."

Lena strongly disagrees- this pumpkin is decidedly ugly, misshapen and lumpy and a shade that's not quite orange or green, but a rather sickly combination of both.

But what it lacks in general aesthetic appeal, it more than makes up for in sheer size. It's wider than Lena is tall, likely taller than she is, too, and is, in general, what Winn would call 'a threateningly large vegetable'. It's on a little platform, a plaque proudly boasting that it'd won some award or other at the state fair a week or so ago. And also its weight:

One thousand two hundred eighteen pounds.

Lena tries for reason. "Kara. Darling. Love of my life. This… thing won a prize. They bred it especially to be giant. There is absolutely no way they're going to sell it to two city-slickers."

And then it happens. After almost a year of dating, and several years of friendship, Lena is well aware of Kara's pout, and especially aware of her own susceptibility to it. She can almost sense when it's about to happen, these days, and she senses it coming now, tries to steal herself against it.

But it's no use. Kara, she could maybe handle. Maybe. But when she bends and scoops up their three-month old puppy to help her pout, Lena is powerless against the assault.

"Alright, that was unnecessary," she complains. "No using our son like that. He doesn't even know why he's pouting."

"But is it working?" Kara asks, hiding her face behind Krypto's and talking in the goofy voice she reserves for narrating his thoughts.

Lena groans, because yes, of course it's fucking working. "No. Kara, they worked hard to make that... gourd. Can't you get another one?"

"I mean, I can," she agrees, peeking over Krypto's head so just her eyes show. "But think about how awesome that's gonna look when I carve it."

Lena sighs. "Kara, they're using it as a draw to get people to come here."

"They're making it like a display in a zoo. People just come and point at it! We can give it a loving home!"

Lena arches a brow. "You literally just said that you want to cut it open, scoop out its insides, and carve it.."

"Well, yeah, but like, lovingly."

Lena snorts, knowing she's lost. "Fine! Fine, we can go ask."

Kara cheers, hopping a bit in excitement and darting forward to press her lips to Lena's in a silly, smiley kiss.

As predicted, the farmer is initially reluctant to sell his prize pumpkin. "It's not the money," he clarifies hastily when Lena doubles her offer for the damn stupid pumpkin. "I need the seeds, to plant next year. I won big at the fair this year, and with those I'd have a hell of an advantage next season. You understand?"

"What if we save the seeds and bring them to you?" Kara offers earnestly. "I can drive them out whenever."

The farmer looks skeptical at this, but Kara's offer doesn't waver under his glare, and he sighs, reaching out to shake Lena's hand and seal the deal. "Fine. Only because your girl is cute."

Lena huffs out a laugh, and Kara positively beams at him. "Thanks so much!"

"But Jake has the tractor out in the maze right now, won't be back for an hour or so to move it for ya."

Kara's grin only widens. "Don't worry, I called a friend for help moving it."

The farmer shrugs, and Lena groans, knowing that one spectacle at the pumpkin patch is about to be replaced by another.

Lena hands the farmer his due for his prize pumpkin, and he turns away before she calls out, catching his attention.

"Sorry, I almost forgot, how much for this one?"

He eyes the normal-sized, perfect pumpkin in Lena's arms and his mouth quirks up in a grin. "For you? On the house."

Supergirl makes a very showy entrance, to the delight of most in attendance (the exceptions being a 74-year old man who thinks anyone who flies should have to get a license, and her girlfriend who is rolling her eyes fondly and wrestling to keep their puppy from revealing her secret identity), landing with a flourish. She smiles brightly at the crowd waving and laughing, high-fiving anyone who offers before shouldering the massive gourd. "Sorry, guys, I'm on a very important mission. Support local farms!"

Lena snorts, loudly, and Supergirl takes off into the air as her ears turn a little pink.

The farmer sidles up to Lena at the back of the crowd, looking a little star-struck. "Wow."

Lena grins, dropping a kiss to Krypto's nose and blowing in his face when he nips at her chin. "Yeah," she agrees. "Wow about sums it up."

The truck rides notably lower on the trip back, the massive pumpkin weighing down the truck bed probably more than is entirely safe.

"So, how was your first trip to the pumpkin patch?" Kara asks with a grin.

"I hated it," Lena deadpans, cradling Krypto in one arm and her pumpkin in the other. On the seat between them are three dozen doughnuts, four gallons of cider, and three bottles of hard cider the farmer's wife had slipped into their bags with a wink.

Overall, it's been a very pleasant experience.

"Oh yeah?"

"Absolutely awful. Hated everything."

"What was the worst part?"

Lena reaches over, grabbing Kara's hand and threading their fingers together. "Spending it with you."

Kara clicks her tongue, shakes her head. "Yeah, that sounds awful. I'm a pain in the butt."

"Yeah. You're kinda cute, though, so I guess it's fine."

Kara chuckles, brings their clasped hands to her mouth and kisses Lena's knuckles. "Good news for me."

Lena smiles, turning her attention back to the window and watching as fields fairly fly by, the low sound of Kara singing in the background making this almost unbearably perfect.

Almost.

"Um… so, funny story…"

Lena arches a brow expectantly, and Kara scuffs her red boots on the floor. "Oh?"

"Yeah. So, the thing is, I tried everything, with the pumpkin, and… it won't fit through the door. None of the doors. Or any of the windows…"

Lena bonds at the waist and laughs until she cries.

That year starts a long-running and much beloved tradition, wherein a truly massive and skillfully-carved pumpkin appears in L-Corp's opulent lobby the first weekend of every October. It later years, it's joined by other, smaller ones, dozens, carved by the children of employees, including those of the CEO herself.

It's a family tradition, after all.

#ask me #supercorp #i geeked so hard when I saw this was from one of my very favorite writers #full-on squeaked #prompts!

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wroughtbetwixtfanfic · 4 years

Text

Wheels Set In Motion, Ch 4.

Fandom: The Society.

Summary: As the situation in New Ham takes a dark, mysterious turn, Campbell is faced with a threat he never saw coming. With few allies and the past coming back to haunt him, he is forced to deal with a world that is crumbling fast, and choices with grim consequences.

Rating: Explicit.

Tags: Minor Character Death, Canon Divergence, Mental Health Issues, Addiction Recovery, Unhealthy Relationships, Teen Pregnancy, Past Rape/Non-con, Campbell Isn’t The Dad, Brother Feels, Attempted Murder, Supernatural Elements, Gay Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Campbell has mild ASPD and is actively trying to not be awful

Word Count: 7961

Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 5 || AO3

The edge of his mattress dipped. He didn't know when he drifted off, but Campbell stirred when a cool hand rested on his forehead. He shifted in his bed just a little, enough to feel the heaviness of someone sitting beside him. "Mmn?" "Campbell." That voice, soft and imploring, made Campbell jerk awake and sit up in bed. "Cassandra?"

No reply. Of course there was no reply-- he was alone. He was breathing hard. His clothes were soaked in a cold sweat, and there was the sour taste of bile in his mouth. A fever dream. Nothing more. But Campbell could still feel that soothing touch on his skin, and maybe Harry had come in to check on him. Campbell managed to get up, wandering into the hallway. He'd just stepped out of his room when he heard a loud thud from the bathroom, followed by coughing. "What are you doing in there?" Campbell knocked on the door. "Elle?" A faint reply. "Go away." What the fuck? Campbell blinked blearily at his phone as it buzzed in his hand, notifying him of a text from Will. People getting sick fast. If you're throwing up or having trouble standing, go to the hospital. Taking everyone there for safety. "I just got a text that people are sick. Are you?" "Go away!" Goddamn it. "Elle." He pressed his ear to the door and could hear her say something, but he was done being polite. "I can't hear you. I'm coming in, okay?" Opening the door, Campbell was greeted by the sight of Elle on the floor, eyes rolled up in her head as she shook and her back arched unnaturally. She was foaming at the mouth, and Campbell could hear her making choking sounds. "Oh, shit. Fuck." He knelt at her side, trying to remember what some kid in 11th grade had told him about his epilepsy. Campbell gently cupped her head to keep it from hitting the side of the tub. "Harry!" The scream that had come from him didn't sound like his own voice. He couldn't fall apart, he couldn't, not now when Elle needed help. Harry was at his side, it seemed, almost instantly. He rushed into the bathroom, cursing under his breath as he helped Campbell move Elle to her side so she wouldn't aspirate on her own vomit. Harry's hand rested on his and squeezed. Grounding. He said something, but Campbell didn't hear it; Elle had stopped seizing, and they didn't have time to chat. "Get her to the car," Harry ordered as he helped them down the stairs. "I'll drive." Campbell rushed outside as Harry got the keys. He was right on Campbell's heels, opening the door and helping Campbell get Elle onto the back seat. Campbell held Elle's head in his lap, keeping her on her side and making sure she didn't fall as Harry peeled out of the driveway towards the hospital. Even speeding, it didn't feel like they were moving fast enough. "Stay with me, babe. Come on. Hang in there, Elle. We'll get you help." He leaned closer when he heard a strange noise come from her throat. She felt cold, and he couldn't feel her chest moving. "Harry, I don't think she's breathing. She's not breathing." "Pulling up in a minute, hold on." Campbell buried his face into her hair. "I love you, Elle, don't leave me like this." The car screeched to a halt, and Harry jumped out and opened the door. He helped Campbell get Elle out of the car, and into Campbell's arms; Campbell took off towards the emergency room doors as fast as he could. There was no one there, but as he rounded a corner it became clear why. The sound of throwing up, the smell of sickness in the air, the way people were moaning and crying... and exactly three people running around. Kelly, Gordie, and Will, all trying to scramble for supplies and figure out what the fuck to do. "Help! Goddamn it, someone help!" Campbell yelled. Fuck everyone else. At least they were conscious. "She had a seizure or something." Kelly dropped the book she was holding and rushed over. "Is she breathing?" "I don't know!" "Pulse and breathing, but it's weak," she answered as she checked Elle's neck, and pressed her ear to Elle's nose and mouth. Kelly turned to Will, who had appeared next to them. "She had a seizure, maybe. Help me get her to a bed." They got her a bed in the corner, and everyone descended on her at once, shouting. Campbell paced back and forth, trying hard to not to shout at them to just do something. But then Kelly managed to place an IV and hook Elle up to a bag of fluids, and everyone let out a sigh of relief. Campbell sank into the chair next to Elle's bedside, head between his knees. He could breathe now. They would save her, they had to save her. It had to work. "Campbell?" Kelly's voice was surprisingly soft. "Are you okay?" He looked up at her. Okay? How could he be? But then his brain caught up to their situation, and he realized Kelly had no idea who was and wasn't sick. "I'm fine. Just dizzy." "Did you throw up?" "No, I just. Woozy." "That's still worrying. We'll get you something to drink. Okay?" But then Will came tearing over, and there was another flurry of activity. Allie's crashing, Campbell heard Kelly yell; they all rushed to the bed a few rows down. Campbell stood, tempted to go-- he was family, for fuck's sake-- but what if Elle woke up? He didn't want her to come back to an empty room. He sat back down, watching her face for some sign of consciousness. Nothing, but at least she was breathing, and as the minutes ticked by her color went from grey to a drained sort of pink. Harry walked in a while later. It had only been half an hour at most, but it had felt like days. "Sorry. I needed to give Sam and Grizz a ride here," he said as he moved to Campbell's side. "How is she?" "I don't know." Sitting in the chair next to Campbell's own, Harry put his arm around Campbell and pulled him close. Campbell sunk against him, closing his eyes despite himself. "People can see." But Harry didn't move, and Campbell didn't fight him. He sighed and let sleep claim him, even it was for just a short amount of time; Harry was warm and comfortable, and sleep meant he didn't have to endure the sensation of his stomach contents trying to escape up his esophagus. A murmuring voice woke him not long after, though. Helena had entered their section, a Pedialyte in hand. "Kelly thought you might need this," she said. Helena held out the drink. "How are you?" Campbell accepted it. "Tired, mostly." He opened his mouth, intending to ask what was going on out there, when loud coughing and sputtering came from the hospital bed. "Elle?" Helena was right at her side, talking quietly to her as she took Elle's pulse. Campbell couldn't hear what Elle was saying, but Helena's voice was clearer. "No. I mean, yes, but you're going to be okay." She made her voice gentler as Elle kept talking. "Elle, you're going to be okay. Kelly put in an IV. See?" And that was when Campbell felt his world crash down. Elle stared at her arm, and began to shriek. "What? No, no!" She clawed at her arm, at the line, at Helena. "No, no, I don't want it! No, no!" "Elle! Stop!" "No! No! Take it out!" Campbell tried to come over and help as Kelly and Gordie ran over, but the moment she saw him, Elle let out a piercing wail that sounded less like the woman he loved and more like some sort of unnatural thing clawing it's way out of her lungs. Harry grabbed Campbell by the arm when he froze, pulling him out of the room and guiding him towards a side hall. They stood there for a moment, not speaking. Harry had his hand over his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. Campbell had the opposite problem. He had a million thoughts running through his head, and not a damn one would come out. From the main room, someone came their way. Grizz. He looked worried, but at least he looked fine otherwise. Campbell focused on him. "Are you okay?" he asked as Grizz drew closer. Focusing on other people was easier. "Is Sam sick?" "Hey, no, Sam's fine. We're both fine. Uh..." Grizz ran his hands through his hair. "Becca needed Sam, and I came with to be supportive. I'm, uh, I'm just gonna go get Gordie and Kelly some snacks. Keep their energy up." Campbell followed Grizz as he walked away, cutting him off before he got too far. "Wanna fill me in on what's going on?" "Man, I know you already know." "Pretend I don't. Talk to me." Grizz looked at the floor and shuffled his foot. "Fuck. Sam told me that he and Becca fooled around, and she got pregnant by accident. I guess he didn't know until prom. I'm glad he told me, and it's not like I can judge people's journeys or anything." "But?" "It's a lot. I need some time to think." "You gonna be okay?" "Yeah. I guess. I just need to get used to it. And now all this happening, and I have to leave soon... Fuck, I hate it. It's confusing. I just wanna focus on one thing at a time and make sure everyone else is okay before I freak out about my freshly minted love life." Campbell stepped aside. "Well, good luck. Looks like we all need some." "Tell me about it." Grizz paused a few paces away. "You know, I always wanted to be a dad someday. I don't know, maybe we could... I don't know." Campbell didn't answer. He didn't have anything worth sharing. Grizz wandered towards the cafeteria, and Campbell went back to Harry, who was standing at the end of the hallway and staring towards Elle's bed. They couldn't pretend forever that nothing had happened. Elle's reaction had been visceral and undeniable. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong. Helena thought so, too, judging by the way she was storming towards them. "What did you do to her, Campbell?" she snarled, as quietly as she could. "That was not normal." "I don't fucking know, okay? I know what everyone thinks, but I didn't hurt Becca or Elle. Sure, sometimes I'd punch a wall or yell, and I know that's shit, but I never laid a hand on her. We were trying to work things out." "Is that what you think?" "That's what she told me!" Campbell snapped. "She said movie night that she wanted to try." "And Harry? What about you?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Elle and I were friends, at least that's what I thought. We spent time together. I mean, I've been living with her and Campbell for months. I never heard or saw anything that would make her react like that. Sure as hell didn't do anything myself." "Right." Helena looked between them. After a moment, she folded her arms across her chest and settled her gaze on Campbell. "I feel like I shouldn't believe you, but she's awake and said she wants to go home with you two once she can. And I can't stop her. But if I find out you--" Campbell held up his hands. "You've got guns, Helena. We know." Helena pursed her lips and left, hopefully to go pray over Allie or preach abstinence to helpless victims. Whatever. Campbell leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, drinking the salty-sweet concoction Pedialyte called 'fruit punch' while Harry approached Elle's room. He didn't come back. Not for several hours. Campbell spent the time pacing, dozing on a cot her found in a random corner, and reading random pamphlets and medical books laying around the nearby rooms. The hospital had grown more quiet as the night progressed into early morning. The sound of retching and people running around gathering supplies faded to soft conversation, and occasionally snoring. Kelly was still awake, making rounds and checking up on everyone; she'd even stopped by to offer Campbell another Pedialyte, which was probably just her professional integrity at work, but he was grateful all the same. Harry came back around sunrise. "She's sleeping." He looked washed out under the fluorescent lights. Older. Drained. "Do you wanna come back? Kelly said that maybe said she was just hallucinating or something." Going back to that room felt like walking to a funeral, but until Elle said that she wanted things to be over, he wasn't going to just abandon her; Harry stayed with Campbell, both of them at Elle's bedside and waiting. She'd been sick. She'd had a seizure. He'd never had one himself, but from what little he knew about them, they could make someone disoriented. Maybe he could have been convinced that was all there was to it, had Elle not said something to Helena, and had Helena not been so furious. What had Elle even said? He didn't know, and probably never would. At least Elle was alive. She was starting to open her eyes, even though she only stared at the ceiling before closing them again. As the morning went on, she began to shift in her bed, before finally trying to sit up. Gordie, who had come to hook up another fluid bag, helped her up and made sure she was comfortable. Elle didn't speak. Not until Kelly came back to talk to her, and see how she was feeling. "I feel better," Elle said. She glanced at Campbell. "Really, I just want to go home." Kelly nodded. "Alright. Let's finish this IV bag, and see how you are. The others are looking good, too, so hopefully we can have everyone out of here soon." Soon, as it turned out, was three hours later. Will left to go make sure lunch-- breakfast, for some-- was ready, and Kelly came back to remove the IV from Elle's arm. Campbell looked away when he saw blood. Kelly muttered something to herself, but managed to get the site cleaned up and bandaged quick enough. "What now?" Harry asked. "Are we out of the woods?" "I hope so." "And you don't know what happened?" Kelly shook her head. "We're working with a very limited pharmacy, a tiny lab, and outdated medical books, Harry. We're just lucky no one died." She rested her hand on Elle's shoulder. "Not sure if there'll be any long-term side effects, but I think you can go home now, if you want to." "I wanna go," Elle mumbled. "Alright. Let's get you up, then." Harry held out his arm as Elle got out of bed, and together, they headed towards the exit. She was wobbly on her feet, and she couldn't walk too far without needing to pause and catch her breath, but she was walking. Campbell lingered behind, catching Gordie's attention. "Hey. I just wanted to say thank you for helping her." "It's our job to keep the town safe," Gordie answered. "Make sure she drinks water. Whatever this is, she'll heal faster if she stays hydrated. No more than a liter per hour." Without waiting for a reply, Gordie moved on to the next patient. Campbell shrugged it off, and joined Harry and Elle. Harry stopped to pass Elle off to Campbell; Elle accepted Campbell's support, but she kept as far away from him as possible. When Harry came back with the car, they both helped her in. Harry glanced at him, waiting for him to get in the back with Elle, but Campbell shook his head. Sighing, Harry tossed the keys to Campbell. Campbell slid into the driver seat and clenched his fingers around the wheel. He focused his eyes on the road, tried to remember to breath, and shoved every thought down as far as possible. They had to get home. They had to make sure Elle rested and recovered. Campbell got her up the stairs, and into her own room. Elle pulled away from him and stumbled towards the bed, yanking her clothes off and tossing them to the floor. "Do you want me to get you something?" "No." "Kelly getting in that IV was pretty badass," he tried as she climbed into bed. Maybe saying something nice about someone would help? Talking about it? Isn't that what people did following something traumatic? He had no idea. Elle didn't answer. She just crawled into bed. "Can I get you some water? I'm supposed to make sure you drink water." "No. Sleep." Campbell hesitated. She was only a few feet away, but it might as well have been miles. He shook his head and left, going back downstairs and sitting in the living room with the lights still off and the curtains still closed. Harry eventually came in with something for them to eat, but Campbell ignored the food. He didn't feel hungry. "C'mon," Harry said softly. "You gotta eat." "I don't gotta do anything." For a long time, Harry didn't say anything. Eventually, he set whatever it was aside, reached out, and laid down on the sofa next to Campbell. "I know it hurts." His head rested on Campbell's leg. "I didn't realize it before. How much I care about her, too." "She's gonna leave, you know." "Yeah. I know." Harry held still as Campbell stroked his hair. It was a small, minuscule comfort. When everything was going to hell, at least it still seemed like they were each other's emotional support humans, Campbell thought with a wry smile. Yet, it did hurt. Campbell had always thought that seeing it coming would make it easier, but it didn't. In the end, it was all the same. He'd failed. As a partner, as a person. He'd made too many mistakes and hadn't done enough to correct them. On one hand, he wanted to say fuck it. Hadn't he done his best? To hell with anyone if it wasn't good enough. On the other hand, he knew how everything looked, and that he had just enough blood on his hands to make it seem credible. That was his fault. They hadn't even been together that long of a time, but they'd been through so much together, and she was the first person Campbell had ever actually been with. He loved her, and it was such a shitty, terrible fucking way for it to end. The little flame of hope he'd carried with him had snuffed out in that hospital room. And regardless, once his brain and it's crossed-up wires decided that someone didn't want to be around him, that was it; it flipped a switch that was hard to flip back, even in the best of situations. All that was left was to just deal with it, but... Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Once she felt a little better, he determined. He'd help her find a new place to go, if that was what she really wanted. Hell, it was for the best even if it wasn't what she wanted. He'd let her see parts of him that weren't pretty, and it was too much. It wasn't Becca or Helena or Elle's fault. It was just an unfortunate truth. But then there was a knock on the door the next morning, and when Campbell opened the door, he was face to face with a reality he hadn't expected. Luke, looking grim, with Will behind him. "Can we come in?" Luke asked. "It's about yesterday." Campbell stepped aside to let them through. "Yeah, I guess. What's going on?" "Can you get Elle and Harry, too?" "Luke, Elle's sleeping. I can't--" Will cut in. "Please. It's important." Shit. Campbell rubbed his face. He was willing to piss off Luke, but Will was another story. "Alright. Fine." Luckily, Elle was awake enough, and Harry was already chatting Luke up by the time they got back downstairs. "So, you were just about to explain." "We just wanted to go to everyone who cooked at home and ask some questions," Will said. He seemed calm, but his eyes were worried. Something wasn't right. "To see if we can figure out what happened last night." "Alright, well, we don't have anything to hide." "You checked out food to cook at home. What did you bring to the church?" Elle leaned against the counter, her arms crossed tight in front of her. She looked small in her big maroon bathrobe. Frail. "It was just a pumpkin pie. Nothing special." "You make it yourself?" "I did." Luke turned his gaze to Campbell. "Your boyfriend didn't help you?" "No." "Did Harry?" "No! I said I made it myself." Campbell eyed Elle. She was still pale, and obviously uncomfortable. It was a useless waste of her energy, to drag her out of bed. "Why are you doing this? Why the interrogation?" "Because people got sick. Will and I are just trying to figure out how." "Okay, so they got food poisoning. Is that a crime?" Luke exchanged a glance with Will, who shrugged. "It's not just normal food poisoning." He looked back to Campbell. "Alright? We think somebody put poison in a dish." Poison. Harry, who had been silent the whole time, sat down hard on a kitchen stool. "Are you serious? Like, to try and kill people?" "What did you put in the pie, Elle?" Will asked. It clicked then, as sure as anything ever had before. Campbell turned to Elle, studying her every little expression. It made sense, terrible sense, all of it. Elle's evasion and then sudden interest in working things out. Suggesting they should stay home, just the two of them, and her freaking out when Campbell wanted to go to the church with the pie. Her trying to eat as much of it as possible, so no one else got to it. Fuck, her talking to Becca. To warn her, no doubt. To protect the baby. Why she acted so strange at the hospital, and was so defensive under questioning. It was Elle. Elle had poisoned the pie. Her eyes darted over to Campbell, then between Will and Luke. "Condensed milk, pumpkin, spices, eggs." There it was again, that quick look at Campbell. Afraid. She was afraid. "It was just a frozen crust." Luke nodded. "Can we take a look around?" "Uhhuh," Campbell volunteered, before Elle could respond. "Go ahead." He wanted to see her face. He wanted to watch her eyes, the way she looked and breathed and moved, as Luke searched the kitchen. Campbell knew he was right. He felt it. Now, he just needed to confirm it. And Elle, Elle was the worst at lying. She would give it away without evening meaning to. Luke began to dig through the cupboard under the island. Nothing, not yet. Harry spoke up, his voice sharp. "This is fascist bullshit. Elle got sick. You think she poisoned herself?" "We're just investigating," Will replied. "No one's blaming her. We're talking to everyone, and just seeing what we can find out." And then Luke opened the door to the cupboard under the sink, and Campbell saw it. There. A tension in Elle's jaw, a slight lift of her shoulders. Impossible. Impossible, except her saw it there written all over her face. Campbell smiled and turned back to Will and Luke. "I had a big slice of the pie myself, before we got to the dinner. It was great, and besides a little vertigo from a sinus infection, I'm fine." He reached out and picked up his allergy meds from the counter. "See?" Luke stood up and moved away from the cupboard, eyeing the meds. "Yeah, I see." "I think you guys should be talking to someone else." Elle let out a shuddering sigh, turning away from them and leaving the kitchen. "I'm going back to bed." Campbell didn't even really hear what was said between Harry, Luke, and Will after Elle left. He just looked out the window while his thoughts flew in every direction. Had it ben intentional? Of course it had. Had she intended to kill him, or just make him sick? But he'd seen how bad everyone had gotten ill with just a piece of the pie. If he'd eaten much more than that, he would have been more than just a little dizzy. Had he really been so bad? Campbell knew he'd been a dick, and he knew his outbursts-- even if they were only directed at a wall or coffee cup or pillow-- were scary. But had he really hurt her enough, that she'd decided to kill him for it? "Cam?" Harry's voice brought Campbell back to the present. He blinked, turning to look at Harry. They were alone. Harry's eyebrows were knit together, and he was searching Campbell's face. Worried. Campbell walked to him and nuzzled his shoulder, speaking in barely a whisper. "I need you to go in your room, lock the door, and call Allie if I don't come get you." Thankfully, Harry didn't question him. He just frowned and went to his room; a few moments after, Campbell could hear the lock click, and the sound of music. Good boy, Campbell thought grimly as he turned his gaze to the stairs. What was waiting up there for him? He had no clue, now. If Elle would use poison, would she wield a more direct weapon? Maybe not, but any animal would bite if put into a corner. Taking a breath, Campbell climbed up the stairs and stood in the door of Elle's room. She was sitting on the bed with her back to him; she jumped when he hit a creaky spot on the floor. "You scared me." "I always have, haven't I?" "What do you mean?" Elle stood, keeping the bed between them as much as she could. It was so obvious, now. "Why are you staring at me?" Campbell stopped when he was just outside of arm's reach. He tried to find some part of him that was tender towards her. She was frightened. Desperate. Knowing that still didn't soften the sharp edge to his words when he spoke. "Will you tell me what you used?" "Used for what?" "You know for what. In the pie." "I don't know what you mean." "Let's not play this game, Elle. You tried to kill me." Elle's eyes immediately filled with tears. "Campbell, please." Elle sobbed as he took a step towards her, an instinctive move to try and comfort her, but there would be no comfort. She was shrinking back against the wall and shaking so hard that her teeth were chattering. "No. No." "Come on, you..." Campbell resisted the urge to try and hold her, feeling sick at the terror in that single word. How had he created this? "Just admit it. I'm not going to do anything to you, babe. Just tell me what you did. That's all I'm asking." Swallowing hard, Elle met his gaze. She was crying, and her voice sounded so broken, but he managed to hear the single word she breathed out. "Antifreeze." It was as if the room itself had been holding it's breath, and with that confession, it exhaled. Campbell closed his eyes for a moment. Something like relief flooded him, but it was cold. It wasn't soothing, but a severance of emotional attachment from ration. When he opened his eyes, it was like he was looking at a stranger. "You want to leave me? You want to get away? I get it." "You don't get it at all." "Don't I? You're afraid of me. Everyone's always afraid of me." "You throw things and yell at people. You get into fights. I hear you killed Sam's bird, and Charlie vanishes. There's blood on your clothes. Then Becca tells me you raped her, and she's pregnant." "Elle, I didn't fucking hurt Charlie or Becca!" "How can I believe you? Of course I was afraid! I'm terrified! What was I supposed to do?" Campbell waved his arm towards the door, struggling to keep himself from shouting. "You should have left! The door's right fucking there!" "I didn't feel like I could! I thought if I tried, that you'd... you'd..." "I'd what, Elle? Beg you to stay? Chase you down? Force you to come back?" When she didn't answer, Campbell just chuckled a low, bitter laugh. "You know, I loved you because I thought maybe we were alike. No one else understood. Maybe that's the problem. We're too much alike." Something shifted in Elle's face. Her jaw clenched, and her gaze turned hard. "No. I'm nothing like you." "Oh, my little poisoner." Campbell managed a forced smile. He took in how she looked just then, and made sure to etch that hateful look into memory. It would be useful, when it was time to move on. "You have an hour to get out. See if I try to stop you." Elle didn't react. She just stared at him, then picked up her phone and texted someone. She didn't speak as she began to gather up her things from the room. Ten minutes later, the front door opened, and there were steps on the stairs. Helena stepped into the room next to Campbell; she glanced at him, but didn't say anything. She just moved past him and went to Elle, a couple of empty suitcases in hand. Campbell followed them until they were done packing, and out the door. Elle paused on the porch, looking back. Her eyes were red, but she was no longer crying. Good. Campbell slammed the door shut and locked it. He leaned his back against the door, sliding down it and sitting on the floor with a loud thump as his legs turned to jello. His heart was thrashing hard in his chest and suddenly everything felt lighter. Spinning. Gone. She was gone. That was it. Not with a bang, but a whimper. The door to Harry's room clicked open. Of course Harry didn't listen. No one ever movie-- Fellowship of the Ring-- and left the room, coming back ten minutes later with a large plate of pizza rolls. He flopped down next to Campbell, setting the food between them. The idea of eating made Campbell want to gag, so he watched the movie and ignored the smell of tomato sauce and cheese. For a time, anyways. Half an hour in, and Campbell found himself nibbling on a pizza roll. It didn't feel real. It was cold and tasteless to him, but Harry wasn't eating them either and Campbell didn't want them to go to waste. Of course, halfway through, Harry began to munch on them too. How many times had he done that same trick, when Harry wouldn't eat? When the first movie ended, Harry got up to put the second one on; at some point, Campbell found himself leaning against Harry again, closing his eyes and listening to the movie more than watching. When Campbell opened his eyes again, there was morning sunlight filtering through the window, and they were both twisted in that awkward fell-asleep-watching-tv position. He couldn't move. He was tucked under Harry's chin, with Harry's arm curled around his waist. If he tried to wiggle loose, Harry would wake up, and... ... And, what? What did it really matter? They hadn't done anything. Even if they had, Campbell didn't belong to anyone. Not anymore. The reminder was sharp in his chest. He had almost forgotten, for just a few moments. But then the events of the day before came rushing back in and suddenly Campbell needed to move. He needed to go take a shower, clean the house. Erase what he could. "Mmn?" Harry grunted as Campbell began to try and wiggle free. "Oh. Hold on." Campbell rolled out of bed once Harry lifted his arm, heading upstairs to the bathroom and running a shower. He scrubbed every inch of skin he could, and part of him wanted to laugh over the sad irony. Last time he felt his skin crawling like this, it was after he'd had Cassandra's blood on him, and Elle had been there to comfort him. Now, Elle was gone, and he wanted to wash away every atomic trace of her from his body. He threw on his favorite clothes-- jeans, t-shirt, flannel-- and combed his hair, shaved, and preened more than usual. Just because he felt like trash didn't mean he had to look like it. Once he was done, he trotted down the stairs and headed to the kitchen. Campbell opened the cupboard under the sink. Sure enough, there was a large jug of antifreeze. He set it on the counter, inspecting it like maybe it would give him some sort of answers. "Cam? Are you okay?" Campbell didn't speak at first. Harry's voice was rough from sleep, but he said those words so softly that Campbell almost answered honestly. "You should go get breakfast, Harry. I'm gonna stay home and get some work here done." "No. You were here for me when I needed you. I'm not leaving you here when you need me." "I don't..." Campbell faltered, an objection sticking on his tongue. Need. He didn't need anyone. Still, the words wouldn't go, not when Harry came up behind him and rested his cheek on Campbell's shoulder. Prick. "I don't want you making a big deal of it. I don't even care." "You're a liar." "Fuck you." It came out sharper than intended, but Harry didn't even flinch. "Where do we go from here, then? What do we do?" Campbell snatched the antifreeze and turned, hurling it across the kitchen. It hit his mother's china cabinet, shattering the glass and several dishes. "She poisoned the pie." Campbell hadn't intended to tell Harry, but it slipped out when he saw the questioning look in his eyes. "Elle put the antifreeze in the pie. That's why she wanted to stay home. She was trying to poison me." "But that's..." Harry looked between him and the thick green syrup spilling out over the kitchen floor. He pressed a hand to his mouth. “Why? Why would she do that? She could have killed you.”

“Pretty sure that was the point.”

"Campbell, you have to tell Allie. That’s attempted murder." "Do you really want Elle put on trial? Do you want what happened to Dewey to happen to her?" The flash of hurt in Harry's eyes said no, he didn't. He moved to stroke Campbell's cheek, but stopped himself just short. "I'll stay home and help you clean up. Okay? Let me help." Campbell was still shaking from anger, but managed to mutter an agreement. Well, fine, if Harry wanted to go hungry in order to clean up a mess that wasn't even his, then that was his prerogative. They threw open the windows and got to work. Campbell cleaned up the chemical and the broken glass, chucking the fractured plates and cups into a box and throwing it all out the door. Harry helped him get the cabinet itself outside. Good riddance to the ugly piece of shit, anyways. Campbell mopped the floors, twice, to make sure it was safe. Harry, meanwhile, had washed all the blankets, sheets, pillows, everything. He'd also shut the door to Elle's room. Or, what had been Elle's room. It was noon when they were done. The house smelled of cold air and decaying leaves, with a wisp of cinnamon and clove from the hot apple cider Harry had brewed for them on the stove. They curled up on the sofa, both ignoring the texts they were getting on their phone. It was Gretchen asking where they were; they were late to work, and the text had turned vaguely threatening. "Fuck it," Harry grumped. He was carefully avoiding any mention of Elle, thank fuck. "They haven't changed the work lists in months. The church floors can handle not being swept for one day." Campbell sipped his drink and rolled the situation over in his head. "I don't get what Allie's doing. I would have thought she'd fix it by now." "Thought wrong, I guess." He'd been opening his mouth to answer, but then Campbell's phone dinged, and this time it was from Allie. "Speak of the devil. She's called a town meeting for after lunch." Harry sighed, but went and got dressed. Not that Campbell wanted to go, either. He already hated it, but now? He'd rather run over his own foot. It was interesting, though, that Allie was calling for a meeting when she'd been so sick herself. If it was something that couldn't wait, what could it possibly be about? Curiosity drew Campbell in, even if he wanted to ignore the text. As it turned out, it was worth the effort. "I wanted to give you all an update on the incident that happened on Thanksgiving," Allie said once everyone had settled down. She still looked pale, and a bit wobbly, but she sounded as cocksure as ever. "Based on the symptoms, we believe that a dish was intentionally poisoned." People began shouting questions. One of Lexie's crones spoke up through the frantic, shocked hubbub that rose from the crowd. "How do we know it was poison?" "We don't know for sure." Talking louder, it was easier then to hear in Allie's voice a distinct, painful rasp. She wasn't fully on the mend. Not yet. "We just, you know, we've ruled out any other possibilities and we're trying not to take any chances." "Yeah, no shit. But what the fuck are we gonna do about it now?" "From now on, no food cooked at home is allowed in any of the common areas. The safest place to eat is the cafeteria. We're just trying to keep people from getting hurt without changing the way we live too much." The loud roar faded into murmuring. It wasn't an unreasonable request, but it meant no food sharing even between friends, not out in public. Inconvenient, but not inconvenient enough that Campbell felt like turning Elle in. Elle hadn't turned herself in, either, obviously. They wouldn't have all been there, otherwise. Besides. Allie hadn't specified what poison. Did she not know? Or was she withholding that detail in case they discovered a suspect? "There's one more thing," Allie continued. "It's been five months since my sister died. I know I've added so many rules, and I know I'm adding more right now. I've asked you to do so much. I just think that the person asking you to do all these things, asking you to grow our own food soon, should be given authority by you." "What is she doing?" Harry whispered. Campbell narrowed his eyes. "Something really fucking foolish." "I think that we should elect a mayor and four council members, that way it's an odd number in case of any ties, and... I'm running for mayor. Anyone else who wants to run, just sign up. There'll be an election in three weeks." Everyone around them cheered, but Campbell just crossed his arms and leaned against the back of the pew. Was she serious? Her popularity was at an all-time low. People were angry and growing desperate. Of course, she made a good point. But now? Three weeks would put them out around Christmas time. Whoever got elected would have to try and get them all through winter. Not to mention, they would have to deal with whatever came of Grizz's expedition. What if they never came back? What if they did, and they found something? Harry shook his head as the meeting ended and they went home. "She better hope that no one else decides to run. The last thing we need is some political bullshit." "Of course someone else is going to run. People have been angry for a long time." "But who?" "Don't know. There's a few people I can think of who would do a good job, sure, but none of them seem the type to rock the boat." Will, Gordie, and Bean would all run for council before they'd run for mayor. Helena was too loyal to Allie. Blake and some of their friends from the LGBTQ community would do well, if they threw their hat into the ring, but would they upend leadership at a crucial point? If they thought Allie was leading them into disaster, yes. But she wasn't. Campbell didn't think Allie's rule was effective, but he could agree that she wasn't going to get them all killed over the winter. Or so he'd thought, before she'd announced the election. New, untested leaders? That could definitely get everyone killed, and Allie didn't seem to see that. "I've heard that Gwen's been irritated with Allie," Harry pondered. "But she's going to be on the expedition with Grizz." "What's Allie done to Gwen?" "I can't think of anything." Campbell went over the possibilities. "Maybe it has to do with Lexie. She's been gunning for Allie's head since Allie took over." "True. She really fucked things up with that improv skit at Thanksgiving." "But would she actually run?" "Who knows. Everyone's going fucking batshit." And that was true enough. This place was changing people. For the better, in Campbell's case, or at least he thought so. Worse, in other cases. "We'll just have to wait and see what happens." Harry frowned. Yeah, that's what he was afraid of; Campbell understood the worry, but there was nothing that could be done until they had a better idea of what the town was up against. For all either of them knew, no one would challenge Allie at all, and hand-wringing would be a waste of energy. They were raking up the leaves in the yard before work when the sound of crunching leaves made Campbell stop. He turned, tilting his head as Grizz came jogging up. "Hey, Grizz. Shouldn't you be getting ready?" "Yeah, but uh..." Grizz's eyes flicked over to Harry for a split second. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I wanted to talk to you about something. Do you have a second?" Campbell looked to Harry, who nodded and went inside. He would be glad for an excuse to get out of the cold. "What's up? You look like you've seen a ghost." Grizz studied the ground. "I need you to promise me that you'll take care of Sam, while I'm gone. Especially if, I don't know, if something happens." "Yeah, of course." Campbell wasn't going to tell Grizz nothing would happen. They both knew there was a chance that Grizz wouldn't come back. "I'll check in on him." "No, that's not-- It's more than that. I need you to protect him." "What do you mean?" "It's this town. There's something... When we first got here, there was some Bible verse on the church wall. You've been weighed and found wanting. Remember?" "I remember you asking if I did it, yeah." Grizz began to pace a little. "There's other stuff. Kelly was talking about some guy that showed up. Some guy named Pfeiffer." He didn't notice the way Campbell tensed. Pfeiffer. Campbell knew that name from the papers that he'd told Sam to destroy. "Did you know that Pfeiffer, it means piper in German?" "All names mean something. What about it?" "Like, the pied piper. Do you know that story?" "Yeah. The guy that uses his music to get rid of some rats." "But that's not the end of the story." Grizz stopped and came closer to Campbell, but his gaze was focused over Campbell's shoulder, distant and distracted. "See, that town has him get rid of a rat infestation, promising to pay him. The guy steals away all of the town's kids because the parents didn't pay him for his services." Well, then. Campbell leaned against the side of the house, thinking over that information. It was too weird for it to be some coincidence. "That's creepy." He drummed his fingers along the handle of the rake. "You know, it's also weird how that dog showed up, too. No one's pets are here. Not even people's fish or small animals. Nothing, but there's some dog no one's ever seen before now." "Border collie. A herding dog." The faraway sound in Grizz's voice didn't help Campbell's unease. "So, what are we thinking? A parallel universe? We're brought here by some pied piper person, and his dog's been spying on us?" "It sounds ridiculous, when you put it that way." "Doesn't mean it's wrong. What does this have to do with Sam, though?" "Nothing, everything, I fucking don't know. There's something wrong with this place, Campbell. Something besides a parallel universe. Something besides snakes and weird eclipses and people being weird. And now I have to go out there, and I'm scared." Scared. Of what? Campbell reached out and put a hand on Grizz's shoulder. Grizz jumped, his gaze meeting Campbell's. "There's something you're not telling me." Campbell realized that Grizz hadn't just been staring over Campbell's shoulder. He'd been staring at the woods. "You've seen it, too, haven't you?" "I need to go." "Grizz!" But Grizz had already pulled away, heading back towards the road. He paused at the edge of the yard, looking at Campbell with a hollow, haunted expression. "Whatever you do, Campbell, be careful. Please. Keep Sam close." Campbell didn't go after Grizz as he left. Instead, he dropped the rake and headed inside, shutting and locking the door behind him. He stared into space, his mind going back to the dark shape he saw in the woods the night the dog vanished. His mind also drifted to the other things he couldn't explain. One instance in particular wouldn't get out of his head. Suspicious, Campbell popped his head into the kitchen, where Harry was munching on stale cereal. "Hey, Harry?" "Yeah?" "The night Elle... You know. Did you come upstairs and check on me?" Harry shook his head. "No. Why?" "Nothing. I must have been dreaming." Turning, Campbell sped upstairs without further explanation, looking around his room as if there would be some clue there. Of course there wasn't, but what was there was a book on occult shit that Cassandra had given him after she'd done a paper on alternative religions. He cracked open the book and began to scan the pages, hunting. Gordie had his explanation, and Campbell accepted it as much as anyone else did; it was science, even if it was a strange sort of science. It was scary enough as it was, without entertaining the supernatural. But, what if...? "Campbell?" Harry came up the stairs, stopping in the doorway. "What's going on?" "Grizz was worried." "Worried? About what?" Campbell sighed. "Promise not to laugh?" "Promise." It took a while to explain, but Campbell told Harry everything. The church wall, the papers Sam had found, the bus driver, the things that Campbell had seen and heard, the fact that Allie had said she'd seen things, too. And now, Grizz, who had been too afraid to even say what he'd seen. At the end of it, Harry came over and sat down on the bed next to Campbell, eyes wide. "Are you sure you haven't gone back on drugs?" Campbell shook his head, and Harry let out a shaking breath. "What the fuck are we dealing with, then? What the fuck does any of it mean?" "It means we've got bigger problems than the election."

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seitjun · 5 years

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Fluff 13 with freewood pleaseee😊

13.) “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

wc: 3500+ // freewood // college au

extra notes: didn’t mean to write this much, but here we are. i hope you enjoy though, and lemme know of any mistakes! my eyes are aching since i did this in two big sittings oops. pasted under a read more due to length.

“Do any of you guys know a bloke called Ryan? Ryan, er…Haywood?”

Gavin poses the question with a furrowed lilt of his brow, looking almost genuinely worried over his question. He doesn’t catch how the other two lads exchange glances between each other, lifting his head to look at them curiously too late.

“Ryan? Yeah, I know him, he’s a guy in my computer programming class,” Jeremy exclaims with a full mouth, cheeks poking out from his lunch and ignoring Gavin’s disgusted looks. “Super smart and creative dude, I get help from him for my work sometimes. Friendly too, but he kinda keeps to himself? Like, he’s actually serious about college.”

“I mean, if he’s gonna go in debt for college, might as well make the most of it,” Michael reasons with a shrug. He snatches a fry from Jeremy’s plate and makes a face at the sogginess of it. “Besides, why’re you askin’, Gav? You tryna’ make a move or something?” He waggles his eyebrows, nudging Gavin with a smirk.

Gavin scoffs, his cheeks flushing at the thought of it. Sure he’s been out for a while now to the people that mattered, but pursuing a guy had seemed still too much for him; he doesn’t call it an issue because it really isn’t, but Gavin knows he gets hung up on things like these too easily.

“No, Michael, I’m not trying to shag. It’s just…” He trails off with a frustrated look as the words get lost in transit; he doesn’t know how to explain the situation, so he just reaches for something in his pocket and presents a wrinkled paper to his friends.

There’s a section of admittedly smudged and illegible writing, but clearer and more coherent is the bottom of the paper – there, written in blue-penned chicken scratch is the name Ryan Haywood, followed by a series of digits and what seems to be a crude attempt at drawing a heart.

Another brief look is shared between Michael and Jeremy, and a silent conversation occurs; one where Michael smiles victoriously afterwards, and Jeremy slumps over himself with a groan.

“I think…he’s trying to make a move on you, Gav,” Jeremy points out with a sigh, still slumping. He actually looks exasperated after saying that, as if he can’t believe Gavin is dense enough to ignore the signs in the closing. “I mean, the guy’s literally handing you his number. Plus there’s a heart too! I didn’t even get a heart when Michael asked me out.”

Gavin raises a brow. Peering at the note he laid on the table, he can’t really conjure any reasons why Jeremy would think those factors made it seem like flirting. Hearts and numbers are common enough things to hand out, aren’t they? Hell, Gavin signs his own texts with x’s and o’s, no matter who it’s being sent out to, and those seem on a level similar to hearts.

So, he shakes his head, taking the paper back and returning it to his pocket. He makes a note to input the number in his phone, lets himself pray that Ryan’s not a creepy dude. “I don’t think he’s making a move on me. Maybe he just wants a friend? Especially since you said he’s pretty quiet, so maybe he’s lonely too!”

Gavin looks proud of himself of that analysis, especially stubborn too, and the two other lads aren’t ready to handle that whole situation. They just leave Gavin be for now, let him handle whatever happens.

ii.

Gavin learns, after a month of awkward conversations and slightly intimidated meetings, that the number and the guy don’t end up being creepy – at least not seriously, the jokes Ryan makes actually funny – and Gavin is absolutely thankful for it. He’s had his fair share of sketchy guys already, and he wants to move far, far away from them.

“Ryan!” Gavin calls out after his film technology class let out late, sprinting to catch the attention of the older student. He stops clumsily in front of Ryan, almost tripping over his unlaced shoes, but he grins in relief when the other manages to stop him from making a fool of himself. “Thanks for that and waiting up for me! I know you could’ve just headed off to lunch already.”

Ryan just shakes his head, as if what Gavin’s saying is something implausible for him to do. He pockets his phone to focus wholeheartedly on Gavin, casually slinging an arm around his shoulders and starting to head towards the campus lunch halls. “What, and then deal with you whining at me ‘bout leaving you behind? I don’t hate myself enough to do that, Gavin.”

Gavin rolls his eyes. With a slight jab to Ryan’s side, courtesy of his elbow, he revels in the soft wheeze that escapes the other man; serves him right for that comment, honestly, even if it’s more truthful than false. “Hey! I don’t whine, and even if I did, you probably deserved to have me whining to you, you prick,” he huffs, crossing his arms with a pout. His cheeks puff out in indignation.

“Hey, no, don’t pull that face on me!” Ryan laughs through his words as he pulls Gavin closer. Their sides are pressed up together, and it’s enough for Ryan to manage to tuck Gavin’s head against the crook of his neck. “And ‘prick’, huh? No more ‘love’ for me?” His words take on a mocking, British accent on the nicknames.

Gavin shakes his head, but he can’t help tucking himself further against Ryan’s side, almost cozying up to him, even as he gently whacks Ryan’s shoulder. “Oh, sod off! I might as well leave if you’re gonna be a git like that!”

Ryan snorts at the threat, just bringing Gavin in to give him a noogie to the background music of a squawking man. And if they find themselves walking a little closer than most friends do afterwards, one part Gavin’s clinginess and two parts Ryan’s initiation, they don’t say anything about it.

iii.

Considering their interest in video games is definitely more than the average person, it’s almost unbelievable how it takes them another month to finally get each other’s gamertags with all their discussion around it. But maybe it had been a sign the world was telling them to turn back now, do not pass go, do not collect $200, because they’re absolute hell in video games.

“Fuck off, Gavin, Ryan! I’m just trying to fuckin’– agh!” Michael’s enraged voice sounds out loudly through Gavin’s headphones, only mildly blocked out with Gavin’s giggling. “I just wanna get to my car, please.”

Anger melts into defeat easily by his and Ryan’s antics, and Gavin coos softly at Michael, quieter giggles following afterward. “Alright, let’s let Michael get into his car now. Or else, he and Jeremy are gonna mug me even more next time we play,” he concedes. He hears Michael let out a whoop of relieved joy as he gets into his personal vehicle, hears Ryan’s amused chuckling.

“That was fun while it lasted. We should see how long we can get away with doing that to Jeremy next time,” Ryan suggests. He’s already driving off and away from the sight of Michael’s torment, casually as if he isn’t talking about how to torment Jeremy as well.

“You don’t even know Jeremy that well yet, but you’re attacking him already? You’re being a lot more evil than usual, Ry, y’know,” Gavin points out as his game model whips out a gun to point at something random. He laughs bubbly at the twisted model’s arms only for his attention to be taken away by the sight of a cyclist on the highway in front of them. “Oh! Ryan, Ryan, Ryan! Look!”

“H-Huh, what!?” Ryan startles, the car jerking slightly. “What? The cyclist?”

“Yeah, that guy! Run him over, Ry, please?” Gavin pleads with a grin, acting as if he’s not requesting for Ryan to mow down an innocent character. “It’d be so funny, yeah?”

Thing is – Gavin’s not exactly wrong. They find humor in a lot of the same things, and Ryan does like the whole violence and unbidden by law thing of GTAV. Ryan also has an awful habit of indulging Gavin, but that doesn’t need to be said. It’d just be an awful disservice to the game and them both if he didn’t take the opportunity presented to him, wouldn’t it?

Besides, the reward of hearing Gavin’s laughter – the kind where he’s somehow squeaking and wheezing because he’s laughing too hard – and Michael’s quiet ‘Jesus fucking Christ’ more than makes up for the bloodied windshield he has to drive with now.

Ryan doesn’t mention anything about how he takes to running over every motorcyclist he sees now, just to hear Gavin squeal in joy again. How he always does it with a quiet but giddy, ‘Just for you’.

“Whatever Gavin wants, I don’t mind doing it for him,” Ryan shrugs when Michael questions him about it later, and he chuckles at hearing the flustered squeak from Gavin’s end.

iv.

“Thanks for willing to help me out with this, Rye-bread.”

Gavin’s face is graced with a tired, but grateful smile as he throws himself into the seat across Ryan. Tucked away in a corner of the spacious library, the two of them settle as much as they can before they start their impromptu tutoring lesson; pleaded to by a near-wailing Gavin, Ryan finds himself surrounded by familiar mathematical textbooks and not-as-familiar math concepts.

“No worries, you know that I don’t mind helping you out at all,” Ryan smiles kindly. It seems to work, taking off a little of the exhaustion from Gavin’s slumped shoulders. The other man looks older, weary without his usual exuberance; it’s an unsettling sight, and Ryan silently resolves to help Gavin as best he can. “Do you know what you want to work on specifically?”

Gavin hesitates. He scratches at his chin, asking with a sheepish smile, “Is all of the above an answer?” He fiddles with his hands as he flushes red and ducks his head down from Ryan. “Math just…never was my thing. And midterms are coming up, so I need to be good at math for just one day, at least! So, please help?”

Ryan rolls his eyes, flicking Gavin’s forehead. “Calm down, or you might get us kicked out. And I’m already here, so it’d be dumb if I just left right now, didn’t I?”

“I guess…” Gavin shifts awkwardly, almost as if unaware of Ryan’s genuinity. “When I say I’m bad at math, I’m absolutely shite at it. Jeremy and Michael always get frustrated trying to explain stuff to me, even though I know they’re trying not to. I’m just awful dumb at it,” he mumbles. He hazards a glance at Ryan, wondering if he’d leave after that admission.

“Gav…” Ryan sighs. He moves his chair closer to the table, leans forward to bring his face near Gavin’s, noses near touching. “I don’t care if you’re horrible at math as long as you try to learn. I said I’d help, and I’ll try to without getting mad. And don’t talk ‘bout yourself like that. You’re actually not a dumb idiot, even if I call you that a lot, Gav,” Ryan murmurs to him.

Gavin’s eyes widen. He can’t help staring into Ryan’s eyes and the intensity of them, blue shade glinting with a seriousness Gavin only saw when Ryan was coding or performing. It makes his cheeks turn redder for a completely different reason, and it sends his heart thrumming with a giddiness that surprises him.

It wrenches a grin from him, wide and crooked but utterly genuine. He wonders if his eyes are shining brightly, his emotions peeking through at how touched he is by Ryan’s words. “Thanks, Rye,” he whispers softly but as kindly in return.

His arms move on their own automatically, wrapping around Ryan with no hesitation as a token of his appreciation. And Ryan – easily, he returns the hug, but he does curse himself on how close their faces were, how close he was to finally spilling the truth about his intentions to a still clueless Gavin.

“No problem, Gav,” Ryan settles on saying. “There’s no one else I’d be happier to help with than you,” he grins.

Gavin is thrumming with excitement.

He rocks back and forth – heels to his toes – as he waits, a small bouquet he bought just a few hour ago in hand, right by the stage for Ryan to appear. He’s even made Jeremy and Michael wait with him, and he ignores the looks they throw each other around him, far too focused on Ryan.

It’s with a giddy cheer that he squeals out ‘Ryan!’ when he spots him climbing down the stairs to the floor in his outfit still. He launches himself at the older man without a second thought, limbs hooked around him like a koala clinging onto a tree branch for life.

“You were absolutely fantastic, Rye! I didn’t think I’d enjoy a play so much, but you made it easy to be interested. No wonder you got the lead role,” Gavin praises with ease, squeezing Ryan in an imitation of a hug in their odd position. “Oh, and I even got you some flowers! Lil’ J said that’s a nice thing to do after a show, yeah?”

A puff of laughter escapes Ryan as he takes the flowers gingerly, arm tightening around Gavin to return the hug and make sure he doesn’t slip off. His cheeks are warm and red with the adrenaline from performing, the embarrassment from being praised so much by Gavin of all people.

“Jeremy’s right, yes. I appreciate the flowers, Gavin, and I’m glad you liked me being the lead so much. Theatre’s something I love with all my heart,” Ryan explains casually as he shifts Gavin’s weight to hold him up better. “How’d you like the rest of the show? Like, besides me?”

Ryan earns a delighted trill as Gavin throws himself into a rambling commentary about the play. From the set design to the costumes to the story, Gavin compliments kindly and criticizes fairly about everything and everyone. He does his best to spread his comments, but Ryan feels his chest puff in pride when Gavin automatically finds a way to include him with each compliment.

“You know how to blow a guy’s ego up, huh?” Ryan chuckles before squeezing Gavin in another hug. “Glad you liked it though, since I tried to give the best show of our run so far. Just for you, Gav.”

Gavin flushes a pretty shade of pink, and he sticks his tongue out at Ryan, but it’s done with a giggly fondness that he’s absolutely weak for. It takes all of his will to not just pepper Gavin in kisses on the spot as Gavin rambles on about something, looking excited as all hell.

He can listen to Gavin forever, and he knows he must have some dumb, lovestruck expression in his face, because he catches the looks that Gavin’s two friends gift him; a mix of confused but understanding, protective and wary, he can feel their stare boring into him. With it, carrying the weight of the fact that they know. What Ryan knows and what Gavin doesn’t, they’ve been privy all along to this dance happening between them.

It’s unsettling, but he promises them silently that he’s already been working his way to tell Gavin. Soon, he concedes; it’s difficult with how unaware Gavin is, honestly, but he just listens to Gavin ramble earnestly with a wanting heart.

Soon, Ryan tells himself.

+ vi.

“Ryan!”

Reminiscent to their meeting months ago, Gavin sprints to get to Ryan faster and nearly stumbles over his own, two feet. It’s only with an exasperated familiarity with Gavin that Ryan catches the other in time, arms wrapped tightly around a small waist and hands clutching intensely onto broad shoulders. Their faces share almost the same space, noses grazing.

“You need to stop tripping so much, or at least running since you always almost fall afterwards,” Ryan chides with a click of his tongue as he helps Gavin stabilize himself on the ground again. “Who’s going to catch you if I’m not here?” Ryan says it teasingly, and it earns him a gentle sock to the shoulder; flatly, he responds with an ‘ouch’, much to Gavin’s chagrin.

“I’m actually just fine on my feet, Ry! I don’t even run a lot, not for others usually,” Gavin grumbles, toeing the concrete with his foot. A silent ‘just for you’ hangs in the air long enough for Ryan to blush and for Gavin to huff. “C’mon now, I thought we were going to lunch?”

“We are, just slow down! The place isn’t gonna disappear if we take our time walking,” Ryan points out. He earns a groan from Gavin who tugs at his hand to go faster without much success. “Today’s a nice day to walk. The place is gonna be crowded when we get there, and I like it when it’s just us two.”

“You can’t just say stuff like that! People are gonna think we’re dating or something,” Gavin mumbles. His cheek are dusted pink, and Ryan raises a brow at the shyness.

“You say that like I don’t want people to think that. We’d be a pretty damn good couple, don’t you think?”

And that gives Gavin pause, freezing him in his steps, because that’s the boldest thing Ryan’s ever said to him. He knows about the nice stuff that the older man says and does for him, always makes him giddy to be friends with such a kind person, albeit creepy and dangerous at times with his humor.

That statement though – Gavin is reeling.

“Are you flirting with me?”

The question is barely squeezed out of his mouth, surprise laced in the words. Gavin stares up at Ryan and tries to search for any hint of a joke in his eyes, but he’s only rendered speechless when Ryan just snorts and slings an arm around him. He’s in utter disbelief.

“You finally noticed? I’ve been flirting the last few months, but thanks for noticing just now.” He doesn’t sound bitter or annoyed at Gavin’s obliviousness, moreso amused and even proud. “Why’d you think I gave you my number in the first place?”

Gavin splutters, because he can’t believe Michael and Jeremy called out Ryan’s intentions so quickly, all those months ago. “I thought you just wanted a friend! Jeremy said you were pretty quiet, and maybe you were shite at making friends, so I…y’know!”

It sounds so indignant, his reply, that Ryan can’t help but throw his head back with the loudest laugh he’s ever had. His cheeks are painted red from how hard he’s laughing, because of course, he’d get stuck in this sort of situation with the idiot, attractive guy he’s been onion over for months now. Let it be known that Ryan either has the most clueless taste or the most clueless flirting skills; there’s a high chance of it being both.

“I didn’t mind if we stayed just friends, since I do like hanging out with you. But I thought you were attractive, and I’m not dumb enough to pass up at least trying,” Ryan explains through the last dregs of his laughter. He moves his arm from Gavin’s shoulder to around his waist, looping it around and bringing him close in front of him. Chests pressed together, he rests his forehead on Gavin’s own. “Didn’t really plan for this to be how you’d find out, but…if it maybe scores me a date with you?”

Gavin’s heart is in his throat, peering up at Ryan with wide eyes at their proximity, the weight behind the older man’s words. Rejection is a thought in his mind, but it passes quickly when he sees how Ryan’s eyes are glittering with a patient hope, an earnest genuineness in his affection; it makes Gavin’s heart flutter, unused to a look like that aimed at him.

“I…I don’t know?” He answers honestly, licking his suddenly dry lips. He doesn’t want to say yes in fear of lying to Ryan, because he’s not given how he feels towards him much thought, but saying no is too…abrupt. He doesn’t want to close off the opportunity to explore his own feelings.

“It sounds like there’s a ‘but’ there, Gav,” Ryan prods gently, tries not to push, but curiosity is a powerful thing.

Gavin takes a deep breath and figures out his words for a moment. He doesn’t want to mess it up, not right now. “I don’t know how I feel about you exactly, but…I want to explore it, and I want to go on a date with you.”

And when Ryan grins, bright and shining and affectionate – Gavin can’t help but mirror it, excited for what their future holds for them.

#rtah #ragehappy #freewood #seiju writes

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warriorofdragons · 5 years

Text

Light in the Dark Chapter 2: Recovery and Introductions

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Language

You wake up to find yourself in a hospital bed. Although the room you’re in is definitely no hospital. You attempt to sit up, but whimper at the burst of pain in your side.

“Don’t move,” a man’s voice says, “You’ll only make it worse.”

Glancing to the side, you see a man in armored gear over medical scrubs standing beside the bed. Not taking your eyes off of the man, you slowly settle back down. A bit of movement catches your eye and you spot another individual similarly dressed walk away from you and out of the room. Your eyes widen when you notice that the “door” to this room has bars on it. It currently sits open but you see a heavily armed guard just opposite the door, staring silently into the room.

You have no memory of how you got here or where here even is. Looking down you notice there’s one of those heart rate things on your finger and an IV in your arm. Reaching with your left hand to pull up the collar of the hospital gown you’re dressed in; you see there’s a fresh bandage on your wound.

“Don’t touch that.”

You bristle at the man’s voice.

Smoothing the gown back down, you bring the blankets over you. You stare up at him, but he doesn’t even move to look at you. You can’t see his face, but you decide it wouldn’t be a good idea to ask him any questions.

The sound of footsteps across the hard floor draws your attention. Looking back towards the door, you see a blue-haired elf followed by a big, red-haired man. They both stroll towards you and stop at the foot of your bed. The elf glances at the man still standing beside you and nods at him. The man moves away from you and quickly makes his way out of the room. You stare silently at the two in front of you. The elf’s blue hair is mostly tucked behind his ears save for two strands which fall just in front.

He’s well dressed of course, what elf isn’t?

His three-piece suit is a dark purple, the jacket has leaves and vines in a lighter purple embroidered across his shoulders and down his lapels. The vest continues this motif by being completely embroidered. His pocket square and his tie are the same lavender color, and as your eyes drift to his neck you fix your gaze on the silver gorget tucked neatly over his tie and under his vest. You can only actually make out a few of the words, but you don’t need to read it. The gorgeous elf in front of you was just like most of the elven men you’d seen in elf town.

Your eyes shift from the elf to his human companion. The big man was rather plain in comparison, his suit was brown and black, his hair being the only color that stood out on him. There’s a glint of metal near his waist and as you focus on it, you stiffen when you realize that it’s a badge.

Your eyes focus on the elf once more, “Who are you?” you ask.

The elf lifts his head up, “The Special Agent in Charge,” he replies.

Special Agent? Oh no.

“Where am I?” you ask.

“What didn’t nobody tell ya? You’re in the Magic Task Force HQ,” the red-haired man interjects.

Your eyes widen and you can hear the rate monitor beside you spike.

This is your worst nightmare. This is exactly what you’ve feared all these years.

“How did you find me?” you question trying to harden your resolve.

The Special Agent tilts his head at you, “You don’t remember?”

You don’t. You really don’t.

“It’s all kinda fuzzy,” is your response.

He studies you carefully. His human counterpart chuckles, “Sweetheart, you called us.”

“What?” you whisper horrified.

“Yeah, you practically begged us to come rescue you,” he continues.

Shaking your head, he has to be lying there’s no way you would call the very people you were trying to avoid. That was the last thing on your mind. The only way you would have done something like that is if…it was a last resort.

Realization hits you and you gingerly place your left hand on your side. Looking back to the elf, he still has his head tilted at you. Probably waiting for you to come to this conclusion on your own.

“How bad was it when you found me?” you ask tentatively.

He raises his head and takes a long inhale and slowly exhales lowering his head again. You hated it when elves did that.

It was a well-practiced move that looked casual, but in actuality he’s scenting you from across the room. When an elf wanted to scare someone they would get in their personal space to smell them. You know your fear must be radiating off of you but whether or not he enjoys it, he makes no show of it.

Dipping his head down, he closes his eyes for a moment and then opens them again to stare directly at you.

“You had lost a lot of blood. You were barely conscious and likely delirious,” he said simply.

“It’s probably why you were so flirty on the phone,” the ginger says with a smile.

“What?!” you exclaim, again horrified.

“I was flirting with you?” you ask.

He shakes his head, “Not me, Ol’ Kandomere here,” he says nodding towards the elf.

“Montehugh,” the elf sighs. His eyes dart towards the man as if he’d wished that he hadn’t mentioned that.

Flirting with the elf you could believe, the man’s gruff voice did nothing for you.

Kandomere’s on the other hand….

To put it simply his voice was…. nice.

You remember being alone, had you heard that voice in a compromised state like the elf suggests. Well, might as well if the odds are you aren’t going to live very long.

But you had lived and now the embarrassment was creeping it’s way into your face.

“Kandomere is it?” you begin.

“If you say that’s a nice name I swear,” Montehugh interjects.

“I- what? I wasn’t…how many times have I said that?” you blurt out confused.

The man takes his hand out of his pocket and holds up two fingers, smiling. You think for a moment, “Wait, when was the second time?”

“I was just about to get to that,” Kandomere states, looking at his counterpart, he then strides towards over to you until he��s standing next to your bed. Reaching into his jacket pocket he pulls out something small and sets it in your lap. Picking it up you examine it.

It’s a leather restraint.

What’s left of one anyways. There’s a part where it’s…been burnt through.

You swallow.

“After surgery you woke up sooner than anticipated. Evidently, the anesthesia did not agree with you,” he explains. “You suffered a panic attack and then attacked my men.”

You screw your eyes tight. “Did I kill anyone?” you ask fearful of the answer.

“No.”

You look up at the elf in both surprise and relief. He raises his eyebrows, taking note of your reaction. He extends his hand towards you, palm facing upwards. You place the restraint back in his hand and he pockets it.

“No one suffered any injuries either,” he replies, walking back to rejoin his companion.

“I-I don’t like to be tied down,” is all you manage to say.

“Apparently not,” he remarks.

“Now, how did you sustain your injuries?” the elf questions.

“I was attacked,” you respond.

“By?” he inquires.

“By a dragon,” you whisper quietly.

“The L.A. Dragon doesn’t go around attacking people. Unless they attacked him first,” Montehugh says pointedly.

“It wasn’t him okay!” you exclaim. “It was another dragon, a grayish-blue dragon with orange eyes,” you say quietly, casting your eyes downward. “Burning orange eyes.”

Montehugh looks to Kandomere.

“What else can you remember about that night?” Kandomere asks.

Rubbing your forehead, “Um, well there was an elf with him for one,” you say.

“An elf?” he asks, surprised, “What did this elf look like?”

You sigh, “He was tall, had silver hair, typical elven eye color… you… you know,” you say gesturing towards Kandomere.

“Is there anything else?” he questions.

“Because that’s real specific, no seriously it’s a lot to go off,” Montehugh says sarcastically.

“It was fucking dark okay!” you exclaim. “And I was a little bit more preoccupied with the dragon bearing down on me.” You attempt to cross your arms but immediately wince the moment you so much as move a shoulder and stop.

“Alright, that’s enough,” the elf says looking to Montehugh.

The man pulls his hands out of his pockets and puts them up in a relenting fashion. The big man sighs, “Are there any other details you’d like to share with us? Like where were you when this happened? Was there anyone with you? How did you escape? No, seriously how? It’s a dragon.”

You blink, “One: outside the city,” you say, counting off on your fingers. “Two: no it was just me, the elf, and the dragon,” you lie. “And three: I used a magic portal.”

“You made a magic portal?” Kandomere asks.

“Yes,” you lie again.

“Oh, also the elf is also a Bright,” you add.

“That might have been good to have mentioned at the beginning,” the man says. Montehugh then looks to Kandomere, “I guess we got one down, one to go.”

“It would appear so,” the elf replies, glancing at his companion.

“Okay just so we’re clear the dragon gave you that gash on your side?” the big man questions gesturing towards you. You nod.

“How are you not dead?” Montehugh asks.

“It was just a scratch, like when you smack a fly out of the air, it was at least lessened by the protection spell I had up,” you reply.

“Protection spell?” he asks.

“It’s like a dome of magic energy, with a radius of about five feet,” you explain.

“Ah,” he says nodding. “Like a bubble.”

You smile, “Like a bubble.”

You swear for a brief moment there’s a tiny upward tug at the corner of Kandomere’s mouth, but then just like that it’s gone again.

“And the storm?” the elf asks.

“Ah about that, I…that was me,” you admit, “I was using it to hide from you guys and the elf.”

Kandomere nods.

“If you could give us an approximation of where you were the other night, so that we can investigate and see if we can’t find this elf and this dragon,” Kandomere says.

You tell them to the best of your knowledge, after all it wasn’t your idea to head out there in first place. And then they take their leave and you’re left alone with your thoughts. The memories of what really happened playing over and over again in your head.

*******

You had just finished the lunch they had brought you when the elf walked into the room. He headed straight for you and when he got near, pulled a stool up next to your bed and sat down.

“Yes?” you ask hesitantly. He’s without his jacket currently and sporting a silver-gray vest with a black tie and slacks.

He crosses his arms and eyes you for a moment.

“Yesterday after lunch the cameras in here went dead for about ten seconds,” he states. You swallow.

“What were you doing in those ten seconds, Hm?” he asks.

His eyes flicker over to your left arm. You look and remember that you’re bruises are now gone. Fuck! You shouldn’t have been so obvious!

Turning back to him, he levels his gaze with yours.

“Well? Show me what you were up to,” he says.

Nervously you clench your fists and lower your gaze.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says softly. You meet his eyes once again and there’s this… gentleness you hadn’t expected from him in those silver eyes.

You pull back the covers and slowly lift up the shirt you had been given, just past your navel. Enough so that you could both see the edge of the bandage and the wound. Tenderly removing the bottom part of the bandage, you place your left hand on your abdomen.

Kandomere leans forward and his eyes dart from your hand to your face.

You close your eyes and focus. After a moment you feel a warmth spread from your hand to your abdomen and from there to your chest. And you feel you can breathe a little easier.

You have to stop though, because you feel a wave of exhaustion suddenly hit you. Slowly, you open your eyes and you blink a few times. Then you focus on Kandomere, who tilts his head at you and leans back.

“Was that all?” he asks an amused smile on his face.

You nod tiredly. His brows pinch together slightly.

“You don’t need to do that. It’s not necessary for-“

“It hurts Kandomere,” you interrupt him. You take a few slow breaths, “It hurts to move, it hurts to breathe.”

“We have pain medicine to help with that,” he offers.

“And what about the elf?” You ask shaking your head, “I’m human, it’ll take me months maybe even a year to heal. Do you really think that elf is gonna wait for me to get better? Or do you think he’s going to take the opportunity to finish me off?” you question.

His expression is unreadable, but there’s that slight pinch in his brows again.

“Alright,” he says.

“What?” you ask confused.

He stands, uncrossing his arms, “I’ll let you keep healing yourself,” he replies.

You’re momentarily stunned; you hadn’t expected to be able to convince him.

“Provided,” he leans in close, “that you stop tampering with the cameras and other equipment. And you don’t use any other magic without my authorization,” he says.

“Deal?”

You nod. “Deal.”

“Good, I’ll get the medics to start redressing your wound after lunch from now on. At this rate you’ll heal over those stitches,” he continues.

You hadn’t thought about that. You hadn’t thought too far ahead in all honesty. You just wanted out of here.

“I need you to work with us, not against us,” Kandomere finishes.

You smile at him and nod, “I can do that.” He smiles back, “Now get some rest,” he says, and with that he leaves you alone once again.

*******

It takes you about five more days after that to finish healing your wound, until all you’re left with is a scar. To your continued surprise, the elf had come to check in on you every day. He hadn’t told you any more details about your case, only that he was still looking into it. You had been disappointed by that; you were honestly hoping that they would have caught the guy by now. Although, if you and your “Aunt” Selina were able to give them the run around, the elf almost certainly would.

At least today they were going to let you go home.

“Here,” one of the agents says, handing you a bin with some fresh clothes and a pair of shoes. The man was dressed in a suit and had a gun and badge on his hip, but at least you could see his face. You frown looking down at it and lift your head to stare at him.

“These are mine,” you say.

“Yeah,” he responds.

“From my apartment,” you state flatly.

“Well, I mean they searched your place obviously,” he retorts.

Your shoulders slump.

“One of the female agents picked that up for you, the other day though,” he adds, waving at it.

You sigh, and take a moment to look through it. There’s a pair of jeans, some flats, a grey, plain t-shirt, and matching bra and underwear.

Now you definitely know a woman picked this out.

It’s all relatively plain but comfortable clothing, at least you won’t stand out too much. Also, a man would have never picked matching underwear.

You take the bin and go to the bathroom to change. They’ve been relatively unconcerned about you going to the bathroom alone, because the bathroom you’ve been using is a single person one anyway and there aren’t any windows. They also post guards outside the door if you do decide to try anything. But you’ve been well behaved since you woke up (the second time), which has earned you a little leniency, (though you suspect the elf might have had something to do with it as well).

You get dressed and try to get a look at yourself on the reflective surface of the faucet. There’s no mirror in here. They’re not foolish enough to give you something potentially sharp you could use. You comb your fingers through your hair and grumble to yourself; it’s dirty and needs to be washed, but that’ll have to wait until you get home.

When you exit the bathroom, the agent walks you down a series of hallways and stairs until you get to the main entrance of the building. The agent checks his watch before putting his hands in his pockets, clearly bored. Looking through the double glass doors, you can see a couple more buildings not far from here.

You’re only made to wait a couple of minutes however, before you start to see two familiar faces walking towards you. The agent glances up at them, “Ah, there they are right on time.”

Kandomere and Montehugh walk through the two doors and up to you.

“Hey! Look at you up and walking around,” Montehugh remarks.

You smile at him and shake your head.

“Can I go home now?” you ask.

“Not quite we still have a few things to discuss,” Kandomere says.

Your shoulders droop, “But I thought-“

“Soon I promise,” he responds, holding a hand up.

You still didn’t fully trust him, but he has kept his promises so far. And you get the feeling you don’t really have a choice in the matter anyway.

The agent claps his hands together, ”Well, she’s all yours,” he says, more than happy to be rid of you. Kandomere nods to the man.

The elf then gestures for you to follow him. And you walk between the two as you leave with Montehugh in front and Kandomere behind you. Stepping outside you breathe deep at the scent of fresh air. And hope that it’s not the last time.

You walk from the building you were in, to the larger of the neighboring buildings. This one appears to be the main office building and as you enter, the three of you walk past the reception desk to the elevators. Upon entering one of them, the two flank you and Montehugh presses the floor button. As the elevator goes up, you shift uncomfortably. The elf spares you a brief, sideways glance, before looking forwards once more. The elevator stops and the doors open and the elf lightly places a hand on your back, urging you forward. You obey and step out and then the two escort you down the hallway. You pass by an open area with a bunch of desks and other agents milling about. Most of them are human with a couple of elves speaking to lower ranked agents. But you do see a handful of dwarves working on paperwork at their desks. You continue past this area and past what appears to be a break room, along with several closed office doors. Glancing down a hallway you stop.

There’s a woman’s bathroom. And you forgot to actually use the bathroom earlier.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you say. Both agents turn to look at you. Montehugh furrows his brows, “Look, if you think we’re just gonna let you walk around unsupervised.”

Knitting your brows together, you stare at him a moment, “I would like to request a female agent,” you finally say.

“That can be arranged, Montehugh?” Kandomere prompts, turning to the man.

Montehugh smiles, “Heh, yeah I think I know just the lady for the job.”

The big man briskly walks away and after a few minutes, of which you stood in awkward silence with the elf, he returns with a dwarven woman. Her long red hair is pulled into a thick braid that runs down her back. She’s wearing a purple blouse with a black cardigan and black slacks. And a gun holstered on her hip.

“This is Agent McTavish,” Montehugh declares with a smug smile.

Her green eyes are fixed on you untrustingly. You can’t really blame her, she’s just been asked to watch a human Bright.

“Gwendolyn, if you please,” Kandomere says.

She stiffens a little at the use of her first name.

“Alright, come on,” she says motioning you in the direction of the bathroom. “Let’s get this over with,” she then mumbles.

McTavish has you walk in front of her into the bathroom, her hand placed over her sidearm. As you go into one of the stalls and turn around to close the door you see her staring unblinking at you, and you slowly close the door, finally breaking the uncomfortable eye contact.

When you lift up your shirt, you spot the still fading scar on your right side. You brush your fingers over the mark. With a few more healing sessions it’ll be completely gone, but you need to recoup your strength first. You let out a sigh and finish up, carefully opening the door when you reemerge. That’s when you notice the shoes Agent McTavish is wearing. They’re a pair of white and black Mary Jane heels with little, black bows on them.

“Your shoes are cute,” you comment pointing to them.

“Thank you,” she deadpans, refusing to take her eyes off of you.

You smile at her and walk to the sink. Agent McTavish moves to stand behind you. Washing your hands you look up and can barely see her head and shoulders over the counter.

“Hey how do you-“ you start to ask.

“There’s a stool,” she says flatly, interrupting you.

You look under the counter and sure enough there’s a wooden stepping stool tucked under the counter. “Oh,” you reply.

You dry your hands and once again she has you walk in front of her as you leave the bathroom. She then escorts you back to Kandomere and Montehugh.

“Thanks, Gwen,” Montehugh says.

She nods at him and then walks away.

“Alright, Sweetheart, let’s go,” Montehugh says with a smirk.

You sigh and follow the two agents once more.

The two lead you down a hallway to a door and Kandomere opens it for you. You walk into the rather spacious office. It was bigger than the other offices you had passed earlier leading you to presume this one must belong to the elf. Directly on the opposite end from you was a heavy wooden desk with a leather office chair and two leather chairs in front of it. The large glass windows that covered the entire wall behind the desk had the blinds pulled open letting in the afternoon light. To the right there was a leather couch with a glass coffee table in front of it and a standing coat rack beside it. To the left there were a couple more leather chairs turned out at an angle to face one another with a small end table between them, along with some filing cabinets on the side furthest from you. Kandomere strides over to behind the desk and takes a seat, and gesturing to one of the chairs in front of him he says, “Please, sit.” You sit in the left chair and Montehugh sits in the one next to you.

Once you’ve made yourself comfortable the elf speaks, “We’ve investigated the area you’ve specified and there’s nothing there.”

“What?!” you blurt out shocked.

“There’s nothing there, because it’s been glassed,” Montehugh announces.

You look from the man to the elf.

“Which is evidence enough that a dragon was there,” Kandomere states. “However they have covered their tracks and it will be difficult to find them,” he continues.

You lower your head.

“We did find something else,” he says, reaching into his desk and pulling out a file. Opening it he takes out a few photos and places them on the desk in front of you. You pick up the pictures and examine them, the twisted and melted bits of metal that was your car is almost unrecognizable.

“Had a chopper sweep the area to look for anything else, found that about ten miles from the site,” Montehugh explains, tapping the photos in your hand.

“Bastard, flew off with my car,” you scowl.

“I was hoping it’d still be okay but-“ you mutter.

You glance up and Kandomere has his eyebrows raised slightly and his fingers steepled as he rests his arms on the chair.

“I tried to make a run for it when the dragon showed up, but then he just picked up my car and disappeared with it,” you explain.

His pale eyes stare at you closely.

“You had a bag with you, when we found you,” Kandomere begins.

You’re afraid you know where this is going.

“Yes,” you admit.

“And in it we found a couple of spellbooks: one in Övüsi and the other in English,” he continues. And there it is.

“There were also some spell components. Our guys down in the lab think they were a part of a tracking spell,” Montehugh chimes in.

“And a number of the components had already been used,” Kandomere states.

“So I will ask this once, what were you doing out there?” he asks flatly.

You can’t tell him. If you tell him, you’ll definitely end up in prison.

“I was looking for something,” you say.

“That much is obvious. What were you looking FOR?” the elf questions, his tone serious.

“A necklace,” you say. It’s not entirely the truth, but it’s not exactly a lie either.

“It…it belonged to my Aunt. My ex-boyfriend stole it and told me he threw it out there. So I went looking for it,” you lie.

He raises his head slightly and his eyes move from you to Montehugh and then back.

“But it started to get dark and I got a little lost heading back to the car and that’s when I accidentally stumbled on the elf,” you continue to lie.

“Then what happened?” Kandomere questions.

“He seemed angry that I had discovered him and shouted something into the sky,” you say.

“Like what?” Montehugh asks.

“I don’t know,” you admit, shaking your head. That much is true, you don’t know what language the elf spoke but it hadn’t been Övüsi.

“Then the dragon flew down and scorched the ground. I put up a spell to protect myself and then tried to run to the car,” you explain. “The dragon took off with it, then came back, landed and did this,” you finish, gesturing to your side.

Kandomere nods, “Thank you, for clearing that up. Now, seeing as you don’t have a car, I will have a couple of agents escort you home.”

“We’re also gonna be watching your place for a while,” Montehugh says, “Don’t want you skipping town on us.”

“Oh one more thing,” Kandomere speaks, reaching into another drawer. He pulls out a clear plastic bag containing: your wallet, keys and cell phone and hands it to you. You open the bag and take out your cellphone; noting that it’s been switched off.

“I’ve taken the liberty of programming my work cell number into your phone. Should you need me,” he offers.

You stare blankly at your phone. Did the elf just give you his number? I mean it’s his work number, but still.

“I won’t, but thanks,” you reply, and stuff the phone into your back pocket.

“Can I go now?” you plead.

“You may,” he replies.

Montehugh stands, “Alright, come on, Sweetheart,” he says.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap with agitation.

You follow him out of the room and back down the hallway until you reach that room with all the desks again. The two of you maneuver through them until you spot a familiar face. The dwarven woman from earlier is silently watching you approach, along with a pale man with greasy, slicked back hair.

“This is Agent Davidson and you’re already familiar with McTavish,” Montehugh states. You nod.

“Alright now play nice, Princess,” Montehugh remarks with a pat to your shoulder before walking away. You sigh at the new moniker he has chosen. Turning your attention back to the two agents, “So is this your partner?” you ask her.

“No,” she responds quickly.

“Her partner is out sick, so I’m fillin’ in,” Agent Davidson explains.

“She usually sits right over there,” and he points to a desk with a nameplate that reads: ‘Hernández.’

You look at her desk and then look across from it to see that Davidson’s faces hers.

“Maybe she got sick of staring at you,” you joke.

McTavish covers her face with her hand and tries to hold back a snort. Davidson frowns.

“Alright, let’s go,” he says now shoving you in the direction of the elevators.

McTavish follows, “Sick of staring at you,” you hear her snicker under her breath.

*******

They escort you to your apartment and you unlock the door. You flip on the lights and walk into the living room. Agent McTavish stays at the threshold of the open door, while Agent Davidson stays in the hall.

You knew that the MTF had searched your place. As soon as they had found out your name you knew they would come here.

But looking at it?

It’s more disheartening in person.

The books have been thrown off the shelves, the couch cushions and pillows thrown to the floor. The potted plants have been uprooted, ripped from their containers and soil is now spilt all over the floor. And it seems someone stepped in it at some point, because there’s boot prints leading around the room and then out the door. From here you can see they’ve gone through the cabinets in your kitchen and left a lot of the drawers and doors open. Glancing at your bedroom down the hall to the left, you can see that your clothes have been strewn about the floor. Turning your attention back to the living room, you spot a picture frame that had fallen off the wall and onto the floor. It’s laying face down and when you walk over to it and crouch to pick it up, you’re met with the tinkling of glass as it falls out of the frame.

Shoulders slumped, you sigh and place it back down.

You can clean later.

You look over at McTavish who’s taken a few steps in and is looking around. She opens her mouth to say something then thinking better of it, closes it again.

You walk back over to her, “I’m probably just gonna take a shower and then head to bed,” you state, gesturing down the hall.

“Um, there’ll be an agent by tomorrow morning to pick you up,” McTavish says.

“Alright, what time?” you question in a quiet, emotionless voice.

“Eight,” McTavish answers.

You nod. Agent McTavish looks around again and fixes you with a look of sympathy. It’s a far cry from earlier today, but at the moment you just want to be left alone.

“Well, goodnight,” McTavish says.

“Goodnight,” you respond, shutting the door as she and Agent Davidson leave. You lock the door and put the chain over it.

Walking to your room you turn the light on, you briefly survey the damage you couldn’t see from the hall, set the plastic bag down, and reach into an already open drawer from the dresser and pull out a pair of panties and a nightgown. Then you walk into the bathroom and set it on the counter. You take off your shirt and then move to take off your pants and realize that your phone is still in your back pocket. Turning it on, a cursory glance shows you have no new notifications, but looking through the missed calls you have plenty of them.

Of course they looked through your messages.

Dozens of missed calls from people at work, your boss, and… your Mom. Closing your eyes tight, you then switch to look at your voicemails.

It’s full.

The most recent ones are from your Mom, there’s some from your boss, and your coworkers too. You scroll back further and stop when you see a familiar name. Selina.

You stare at it for a moment and then press play.

You hold the phone to your ear and after a moment you hear a voice, “Hello, it’s me. I think I have a lead on where we might find that thing I was telling you about. Meet me in our usual spot in an hour.”

Tears well up in your eyes and begin to stream down your cheeks.

Taking the phone you stalk back to your room and throw it down on the dresser and return to the bathroom and slam the door. You take off the rest of your clothes and hop in the shower. Turning on the water, you lean back against the wall and bury your face in your hands, and sob.

You don’t know how long you stayed in the shower, but at some point when you’ve calmed down somewhat, you actually manage to wash your hair and use soap. Eventually, you do get out when the water turns cold and forces you to. Drying off with a towel, you put on the clean clothes and wander to your bedroom.

Spotting the phone you pick it up absentmindedly and plug it into the charger you left near your bed. Whoever had searched your apartment had also searched under the mattress and you take a moment to shove it back into place. Placing the comforter and pillows back onto the bed, you close the bedroom door and turn out the light. You sit on the bed a moment staring into space and then reach to pull the covers back. You rest you head on the pillow and curl up, wrapping the covers tight around you. You close your eyes and try to go to sleep.

#kandomere #kandomere x reader #bright netflix

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amillionsmiles · 6 years

Text

just the lonely talking

Title: just the lonely talking Summary: Rose is used to sharing a bed. / Rose with Paige, and Rose without. Oneshot. A/N: anyways you can’t put two sisters onscreen and not expect me to spew feelings at some point. this is rough as hell and multiple attempts will probably be made to explore their backstory and bond but here’s round 1, for the time being

[Read and review here] or continue under the cut.

Rose is used to sharing a bed.

Hays Minor is a cold planet, covered in ice sheets and shrouded in twilight year-round, but the artificial light in the Tico family’s living pod glows soft and warm. When Rose is four, she is still small enough to steal from the mattress she shares with Paige and wriggle between their parents instead. Ever the light sleeper, Paige wakes up in Rose’s absence.

It doesn’t take long for her older sister to decide that she wants to be part of the family cuddle pile, too.

“Move over,” Paige says, digging her elbow into Rose’s side as she slots herself into place. Their rearrangement of limbs wakes their parents; Mom stirs and reaches over to adjust the blankets, which have been kicked down.

“There are my girls,” she says, blowing a raspberry against Rose’s shoulder. It tickles so much that Rose snorts, right in sync with the trumpeting, moan-like sound that their dad emits. She and Paige are facing each other on the mattress, foreheads nearly touching; they share a conspiratorial look.

“Dad snores like a bantha,” whispers Paige, making both of them giggle. They’ve been working through a holobook detailing the creatures of the galaxy; Paige got it for her birthday. Rose’s most recent favorite animal is the sand bat, but before that it was the stunfinn. Tomorrow, she’ll probably have a new favorite.

“And I’m going to eat you two up like a krayt dragon, if you don’t go to sleep,” their mom threatens.

Under the covers, Paige nudges Rose’s foot three times. Part of the secret code they’ve developed. Rose closes her eyes and smiles, nudging back.

ii.

When Paige is eighteen, she gets a job piloting a stripped down bomber, blasting away polar ice for the Central Ridge Mining Company. She uses her first paycheck on a new pair of gloves for Mom, welding tools for Dad.

“What about me?” Rose pouts.

“I’m saving up for your birthday, you spoiled brat!”

“Fine.” After a beat: “What’s work like?”

“Repetitive,” shrugs Paige, resting her hands on her stomach. They’ve grown bigger now but still share a mattress, and Rose can feel, rather than see, every gesture her sister makes. “But I like flying, and firing the cannon. It makes me feel—I don’t know, powerful. Can you imagine what piloting a fighter would be like?”

“Too topsy-turvy for me,” shudders Rose. “I would like to fly, though. Just to explore, see other worlds.”

They’re both staring at the ceiling, imagining it opens up into the sky.

“One day,” Paige says. It’s in the same voice she uses when she’s about to win at cards: decisive, full of change. “We’ll do it, Rose. You, me, and hyperspace.”

iii.

The First Order arrives two years later, when Rose is seventeen. Rose is used to the darkness of Hays Minor, but this is something else. It’s not just perpetual twilight that obscures the sky now—oily smoke leaks from the pockmarks on their planet, thick enough to choke on. Paige loses her job at the mining company. The First Order has little interest in cooperation; it takes the ore it wants by force. People, too. Chip, the boy with the gap-toothed smile who Rose went to grade school with, goes missing. She hugs her dad a little tighter each day, fearing a time when he’ll leave for work and disappear.

When the first bomb hits, it’s instinctual, to scramble into her parents’ bed. To hold close the things she loves dearest as, around them, the world falls apart. The walls of their living pod rattle. Paige’s fingernails dig crescents into her arm. A tremor travels through her bones, and Rose pretends the shaking is just that of a takeoff. They’re blasting away from the surface of her home world. Aiming for the sky.

iv.

They get their own beds once they join the Resistance.

It’s all wrong. Rose climbs onto her mattress—she’s claimed the top bunk—and is immediately barraged by an image of her parents as she saw them last. Dad and the wrinkles by his eyes, his hands rough around hers as he pressed the medallion into her palm. Mom’s voice, lost over the wind: look out for each other. The cramped underbelly of the ship they’d been smuggled aboard.

When they’d first reached the Resistance, Rose hadn’t cried, either in sorrow or relief. Crying would mean she’d have to lift her filtered goggles to wipe the tears, and her eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the light of an inner planet.

But it’s dark now. No rays to protect her eyes from. Nobody to put up a front for.

Below her, Paige offers: “Rose? Do you want to come down here?”

Rose doesn’t need to be asked twice. Foot, hand, foot. She maneuvers gingerly down the ladder, cheeks wet. Paige shifts aside to make room, and Rose feels immediately lighter for it, as if her sister siphons off some of her grief just by being there.

“General Leia’s going to do whatever she can,” Paige says.

“It might not be in time,” says Rose. The medallion burns hot against her skin, an imprint of loss. “These were goodbye gifts that Dad made us, Paige.” And then the tears are flowing faster: “We might be orphans by tomorrow and we’ll never know. Orphans with—without a home—”

“Rose,” Paige repeats. If Rose squeezes her eyes shut, she can almost pretend it’s Mom.

Fingers tug at her necklace. Rose opens her eyes to find Paige leaning over her, fitting their pendants together, the two leaves forming a circle, one with all the dips and valleys of—

Home. Rose rubs a thumb over it, wonderingly. Two halves of a heart. Hays Minor.

“There,” says Paige. There’s a slight wobble in her voice, but she masks it well. “We have a piece of home with us. And we have each other.”

Rubbing her cheeks, Rose presses herself back against the wall to give Paige more space on the bed and says, shakily: “What do you think the General will have us do tomorrow?”

“Who knows? We should get some rest, though, so that we’re alert. You’d better not push me off in your sleep—if I end up on the floor—”

Rose smiles despite the tears. Paige is so slim and bony, all hard angles where Rose is soft. She tucks herself under her sister’s chin.

“I’ll hold on tight, I promise.”

After the evacuation of D’Qar, she will hate herself for being soft. She will look in a mirror and wonder: if my cheekbones were sharper, my face thinner, would I be able to find Paige in it?

Moon cheeks, Mom had always called Rose, pinching their roundness. Rose had loved it then. The recollection aches, now.

When she can no longer endure staring in the mirror, she goes back to their shared room. Paige’s bunk still carries her scent, and somehow that hurts the worst: the promise of a warmth that will never return.

She lies on the mattress—alone—and cries herself to sleep.

vi.

On Canto Bight she gives away her ring. It’s the only piece of jewelry she treasures beside her necklace. The stableboy she gifts it to cradles it close to his chest.

There are two others, another boy and girl. Silent, watchful. They are young and have seen too much already, how the world continues to shake apart no matter how tightly you hold. Rose wants arms big enough to scoop them up and spirit them away from here. She wants to tell them to hide. To crawl into the hay bales and not emerge for the next hundred years, however long it takes to resolve this war.

Instead, she smiles and beckons them closer. Reaches out and adjusts the strap of the girl’s overalls, the brim of the boy’s cap. What Paige would do, if she were here.

(The medallion sings warm against Rose's chest. I'm still with you, Rose, I still am.)

Finn stands off to the side, waiting.

“Now let’s set these fathiers free, huh?” Rose says.

vii.

“Pae-Pae, what’s that?”

“It says here that it’s a fathier,” Paige reads slowly. Her eyes brighten. “Wow, can you believe people ride them? I bet it feels great to go so fast, to feel the wind in your hair.” She claps her hands together. “I have an idea.”

“What?”

“Here, get on your hands and knees. You pretend to be the fathier, I’ll be the herder, and I’ll chase you around, see?”

“Why do I have to be the fathier? Why can’t I be the herder?”

“Oh come on, Rose, we’ll take turns. Now hurry up. If I catch you… If I catch you I get to tickle you!”

“No!” Rose shrieks. Paige makes a move toward her and Rose jerks away. The game is real, now. She’s thundering down a racetrack, an open plain, her sister chasing after her, and the world is only as big as their living pod, safe and warm and bright.

Their laughter spirals upwards like sonar swallows, chasing the light.

#the last jedi #paige tico #rose tico #star wars #my writing #fanfiction #ff: star wars

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sopewriters · 7 years

Text

The Crown: Part IV

Previous Parts: Part I Part II Part III

Genre: Drama; Smut; Angst; Historical AU!

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader; Jeongguk x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Creatures of Ambition

12th October 1685

Jeongguk is in his study when his mother suddenly barges through the doors, making him raise his head up from the paper littering his desk and sigh exasperatedly. If she’s going to bring up that topic once more, he might just have her locked up in her chambers for a week just to bring him some peace of mind.

“How long has it been since your marriage? Two months?” She complains yet again, taking a seat in front of Jeongguk and he looks at her in disinterest as she continues. “And still, no heir!”

“Mother, I do not need an heir right now. There are more important matters to be attended to.” He returns his attention back to the letters, parchments and books beneath him on the table but unfortunately for him, his mother would not have it. “Please do not start with this so early in the morning.”

“Jeongguk, only because the country is at peace for now does not mean that you mustn’t strengthen your claim to the throne.” She argues, snatching the paper from his hand and dropping it on the table to gain back his attention, successfully, “Maybe we should find you another bride. She probably isn’t even fertile.”

He raises his head up immediately at her words in shock, looking at her in disbelief before clearing his throat, “There is no need for that. I’m sure she’ll have a child soon.”

“Anyways,” His mother begins to get up and he lets out a sigh of relief at her departure, “I will have her brought to your chambers tonight. If she does not have child soon, we may have to annul your marriage and find you another bride.”

He doesn’t get a chance to give her a reply as she walks out in haste, probably to tend to the things for the night’s arrangement and he exhales deeply. Things are just starting to get better with you and here goes his mother, ruining things once more.

But he decides to at least inform you of it beforehand, resolving that it’s better you hear of it from him than his mother. So, he gets up from his room and walks over to your chambers, excusing your handmaidens so he may speak with you alone. Upon walking into your room however, he realizes that you are still sleeping.

He sits down by the edge of the bed next to you, hand running through your silky locks. He admires your peaceful expression, the short puffs of air that leave your lips, which are slightly parted, the rosy shade of your cheeks. With each feature of yours, he cannot help but fall for you further.

Upon feeling another presence, you slowly wake up from your sleep, yawning as you rub at your eyes, before opening them and seeing your husband beside you.

“J-Jeongguk!” You exclaim, getting up immediately and sitting up against the headboard of your bed, “What’re y-you doing here?”

“Ah, I’m sorry, I did not mean to alarm you,” He apologizes, sitting closer to you as he held your hand in his, interlocking your fingers before gazing at you fondly, “I just… wanted to see you.”

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves as you grip his hand back, running your fingers over the veins of his hand, and he brings his other hand to your face, raising your chin up before leaning in to kiss you.

“I hope you slept well.” He speaks softly, lips mere inches away from yours before kissing you again.

“I-I did.” You answer back, forcing your mind to forget everything that he’s done to you and only thinking with your body as you pull at his shirt to kiss him again.

In that glorious moment, you can somehow seem to forget all the wrong he’s done to you and focus only on the good. How good he’s been to you since you got married, how he has not forced himself on you on your wedding night like most other lords do to their wives, how he hasn’t treated you like a slave and has given you an equal opportunity to voice your opinions. You merely view it as a sweet morning with your husband.

But it all ends when he opens his mouth to speak.

“My mother, she… she has decided that is time I have an heir.” You pull back from his arms to gawk at him in disbelief. “She’s making arrangements to have you brought me to my chambers so that we may…” He trails off, already knowing that you understood what he means.

You move away from him, getting up from the bed and walking to the corner to put as much distance between the two of you. Even though Jeongguk wants to comfort you, tell you that he’ll find a way out of this, he cannot. He understands where his mother is coming from and knows that it is imperative from him to have an heir.

But you, you do not know how you may be able to spread your legs for the very man that murdered your first and only love. You cannot blame Jeongguk for his mother’s pressure for a grandchild and you understand its necessity but neither can you bring to give yourself so fully to a man who you hated so much. You are about to yell at him, argue with him to postpone this, if not stop it entirely but you know it is futile and so you sit down on the chair wordlessly. You also know that you must gain his trust if you are to succeed in your and your mother’s ambitions.

“You know, I never wanted to be a king.” He interjects your thoughts, walking over to the chair beside you before sitting down next to you, “Everywhere I look nobles conspire against me, servants slip each other notes. They smile to my faces but draw their swords against me behind my back.”

“Well, that is what it means to be a King.” You voice your thoughts sincerely, not bothering to hide your true feelings for him, “My father had to deal with all the same events and so did Yoongi. From you and the rest of the Tudor family.”

“Well, it is becoming more and more than I can bear with each day.” He raises his voice at the mention of your dead lover, anger igniting within as he sees you blatantly disregard his own selfish pain and suffering, “Waiting, wondering if I’ll live to eat supper or be stabbed in the neck as I sleep.”

“Why did you slaughter Yoongi then if you did not wish to be King?” Your voice rises in response as well, your own pent-up rage fuming out at his complete and utter stupidity.

If he does not wish to be King, did not think he would be able to handle the power, the responsibilities, the difficulties that came with the title, why did he do it? Why did he have to kill Yoongi and steal him from you?

“Because I have been trained to do it all my life. There was no other life for me, no secondary choice. My life had been decided from the moment I was born. You’ve seen my mother, she felt that I had a destiny from the moment that she held me as a child in her arms.” He gets up from his seat, walking over to the fireplace in the room as he shouts out in irritation, “I was to be the king for her because she dreamed of power.”

He walks back over to you, features irked in annoyance, “Perhaps you cannot understand what it’s like to be told your whole life what you are and what it is that you have to do. Without a chance for you to think about what you want for yourself.”

He turns around and walks over to the bed, sitting down on it with his back facing you so that he would not have to look at you any longer. Not have to only look at the one whom he wants so desperately only to have her looking back at him with disgust and hatred.

The room falls silent after he is done talking. Merely because you weren’t expecting such an honest answer from him and you did not how to respond to it. It sounded so much like your own life and you could not help but feel empathy for the man, even after all the pain he’s caused you.

Your mother could’ve sent you to Burgundy with your brother so that you would not have to marry the man who killed Yoongi mere days after his slaughtering. So that you could be safe from him and be free to grieve Yoongi properly. Yet she did not. Because she craved the throne for you. For her son.

“That is what my life has been as well. A puppet for my own mother’s ambition. It was her who craved the throne for me.” You stand up, taking slow steps over to him before sitting down next to him, “I would’ve settled for—”

“For a man you love?” He finishes your sentence for you, looking at you with a smile on his face yet his eyes glimmered with sadness. You wonder how he has been able to get so far without having someone to depend on, to love and to share his feelings with.

“I don’t ask that you love me in the way that you loved him but I had hoped… I hoped that you may have come to have… a tenderness for me, at least. Kindness even.” He holds your hand in his, voice soft and low as he looked into your eyes deeply and rests his other hand on your cheek, rubbing away the tears you didn’t know were even falling.

“And would that be enough for you? You don’t want someone who burns to be with you?” You place your hand atop his own that rests on your cheek, voicing your words passionately with vigor, “Who would ride across an entire battlefield just to catch a glimpse of your face and hear your voice?”

“I- I do not know. I’ve never had it.” He replies back, voice meek and you cannot help but wonder had things been different, would you have been able to give him that love?

You slowly lean forward, looking at him timidly before closing your eyes and kissing him deeply, feeling his tongue brush against your lower lip as he asked for permission which you give to him instantly. You can feel his hands wrapping around you, reducing the distance between the two of you and even though you want to give into his advances, this is not the right time for it.

This conversation, his words, have definitely made you understand him more and feel his pain. Though this night might not hold the same importance that it did with Yoongi, you feel that it just might be possible to let him love you. Maybe even convince him enough that you feel the same for him. But you fear that you might do too good of a job of convincing him that you might even end up convincing yourself.

“I will be there tonight.” You pull back from his touch before letting things get too far and he smiles gratefully at you before kissing your cheek and returning back to work.

“Thank you… for understanding.” He remarks before leaving your chambers and you slump back in your seat, wondering if you had made the right decision.

As the sunlight fades in the evening, your handmaidens draw you a bath with an array of essences and flower petals, no doubt to clean you thoroughly before you were presented in front of the King again. You decide not to think too much about the upcoming events of the night, instead choosing to focus on the soothing feel of the warm water as you rest your head against the cool marble of the bathtub.

Once you finish, you put on only your innerwear and chemise before draping a coat to shield you from the night’s cold breeze. You choose not to tie up your hair, letting it fall down freely and then make your way to his chambers along with your handmaidens. It is only when they have escorted you to his chambers and seen you enter it, that they finally take their leave.

“You look… beautiful.” Jeongguk remarks as you turn around to face him, hands shaking as you hold them together and he takes a few steps towards you.

Unintentionally, you take a few steps back from him as he walks forward but he can’t seem to notice it as he is utterly captivated by your beauty. Eventually, your back hits the wall and he traps you between his strong arms, slowly closing the gap between you with his lips on yours.

“Jeongguk—” You are only able to voice his name before he’s kissing you again, hands coming to grip your inner thighs as he lifts you up and carries you to his bed.

He sets you down gently, hand coming to pull your chemise down as his lips kissed your jawline, drifting downwards to your neck and then to your collarbone.

“You are so pretty.” Your cheeks flame at his compliment, legs wrapping around his waist involuntarily as you let out a soft moan at his ministrations. “And you smell so sweet.”

Even as you begin to feel pleasure, love and warmth at his touch, you are constantly at battle with yourself.

A part of you wants to hold onto the grudge that you have against him, to hate him and push him off before he can lay his bloody hands on you any further. But there’s also a part of you that’s come to feel an inkling of love for him. He has been your husband for the past few months and while you had expected him to be terrible, his behavior towards you was nothing but respectful and caring.

Yet you cannot seem to forget how he is the one who killed the love of your life, who killed Yoongi in battle. But you also know that, being his wife, it is your duty to bear him a child.

But again, as Taehyung’s sister and your mother’s child, it is also your duty to help Taehyung win back the throne. His throne.

“Stop overthinking.” His sultry voice pulls you back from your distracted thoughts and feelings and you look at him with eyes glimmering with tears, “Just…don’t think, okay?”

He wipes the tear that slips down from the edge of your eyes before cupping your cheeks and kissing you again, deeply.

So, you take his advice as your hand comes to wrap around his shoulders, pulling his shirt off before running your hand over the bare skin. You lean up to press your lips against his, fingers tangling in the base of his hair as you pull at the strands harshly, eliciting a groan from his lips.

In his haste, he rips your chemise but cannot find it in himself to care as he drops it to the floor, his mouth pressing a trail of kiss down the valley of your breasts before suckling at your chest.

“Oh god, J-Jeongguk!” You hiss as he runs his fingertips over your inner thighs before running two of them over your dripping slit, easing them inside you while his lips attach to the crook of your neck.

“You’re so wet for me,” He whispers into your ear, surprising you with his words as he begins to move his fingers at a slow pace, eliciting a whimper from you, “So wet for me, my love.”

You cannot seem to be able to form words as he increases the pace of his fingers and instead, choose to grip his shoulders tightly, pulling him down to kiss him as he brought you closer and closer to your release.

He lightly bites at your lower lip, furthering your moans while his fingers curl just right to the that spot in you that has you crying out to feel more of it. It isn’t till you come undone but just as you are on the brink of it that he pulls his fingers out of you, looking at the sheen coating it in fascination as he smirks proudly at you.

“You’re getting really excited for this, aren’t you? I can see how badly you want it.” He chuckles, watching with amusement as your eyes follow the movement of his tongue over his fingers, licking it clean of your essence, “And you taste so delightful.”

He pulls back to stand then, taking his pants off before hovering over you once again and kissing you.

“Are you sure you want this?” He can barely get himself to ask but he ensures that he does and you’re so lost in your haze, drowning in his comforting warmth that you waste no time in nodding your head.

Your own hand slips down to pump his leaking cock a few times, covering it in precum thoroughly and he lets slip a groan at the heat of your hand wrapped tightly around his cock. You align the tip of it with your entrance and slowly, he pushes himself inside you, both of you groaning at the feeling.

His hands come to grip your waist for support while your hands wrap around his neck, lightly tugging at his hair as he buried his head in the crook of your shoulder.

“God, Jeongguk, you… you feel so good.” You whine out as he pushes his entire length inside you, walls clenching tightly around him and he increases his grip on your waist in response, whimpering silently and muffling his voice as he bites into your neck.

Once again, he’s left entirely speechless as he can only take in the pleasurable feeling of your wet heat wrapping so perfectly around him, drowning happily in his delirium as he begins to move his hips. The moans and mewls of his name leaving your lips, in your broken and stuttering voice, does nothing but further ignite the heat in his body.

“Do you like this?” He asks cockily, pushing himself in even deeper and further, hitting all the right spots that have you crying out his name in pleasure, “Tell me how it feels.”

“It—oh god—feels amazing.” You gasp out, raking your nails over his back lightly and the burn of it makes him increase the pace of his thrusts as he can feel himself unraveling, making you gasp as he hits much, much deeper inside. “P-Please, don’t stop!”

You don’t know what washes over you to speak like this but you cannot seem to care as he pulls you further down with him into this bliss, this gratification that you have never felt before. Making you feel like everything was absolutely perfect and clearing your mind of anything and everything but the satisfaction that your body felt.

Even though it is your first time with him, he is somehow able to hit all the right spots, kiss you with perfection and make you feel as though you’re in heaven.

He moves his hands upwards from your waist to fondle your breasts, making you bite your lip and arch your back in pleasure when he pinches your nipples harshly. His lips seem to want to mark all of your skin, sucking hard on your sensitive spots to turn them into shades of purple and red before pulling back to admire his work on you with pride. And soon, he can feel you shudder underneath his touch, realizing that you are close and increases the speed of his thrusts.

All you can do in response is moan and cry out his name as he builds up your pleasure to the highest peak before letting the bliss cascade over you and wash out all the stress that had been building up. And as your walls convulse and tighten even more around him, he is quick to join you in your release as he paints your walls in thick streams of his come.

He falls on top of you, one hand resting on your waist while the other runs through your hair to calm you through the aftershock and his lips press a series of placating kisses to your neck.

You giggle softly at the gesture, beaming widely at him as he comes up to kiss you, your own hands wrapping around him tenderly.

He slowly pulls himself out of you, lying down next to you as he tried to catch his breath and you did the same. Slowly, you move closer to him, snuggling into his neck as he wraps his hands around you, fitting you under his chin before kissing the crown of your head.

“I know that I cannot ask for your love nor do I expect you to answer this,” He whispers softly as he strokes your hair and you burrow comfortably into the warmth of his chest. “But I really do think that I am starting to love you.”

At his words, you freeze in his hold, the haze of your pleasure finally disappearing and the gravity of your actions finally dawning upon you, but you are so tired that you cannot even think about it much as you fall asleep in his arms.

And for the first time in months, you have a good night’s sleep.

13th October, 1685

Come morning, you expect to wake up in an empty bed but you’re happily surprised to see Jeongguk cuddled up next to you, still asleep and his chest heaving as he breathes. You rest your hand atop his chest, pulling yourself closer to him as you place your head on his shoulder.

For once, you find yourself not wanting to think of revenge, of your mother’s plots and schemes and you want this moment to last forever. For everything to be peaceful, quiet and serene. Even though you haven’t forgotten about Yoongi, you cannot help but want to look forward towards a bright future. To at least dream of a future with Jeongguk.

But as always, you must put your responsibilities before your own want and wishes because it is your duty to serve your family. Even though you may be married to him and he may be your husband, but he will never be your family.

Because while you are a York, he will always remain a Tudor.

30th October, 1685

You hurriedly walk over to the bathroom in your chambers, pulling up your dress as you slipped your hand inside your underwear to run over your slit before taking it out to look at it.

“Please bleed. Please bleed—” You repeat incessantly, eyebrows furrowing in anxiety and as you look at your fingers which are not covered in crimson. You fall to the floor in a mix of worry and frustration. Your period is supposed to have started last week and if they still haven’t started, well, it could only mean one thing: You are pregnant.

It isn’t that you regretted what had happened with Jeongguk, you have been conflicted about it afterwards. You weren’t expecting yourself to get pregnant either, the chances of it happening rather slim in your mind.

This would definitely complicate matters so much more so… but at the same time, it would also get you closer to him.

“You’re pregnant?” He exclaims in happiness as you inform him of the news, running over to you to embrace you tightly, kissing you repeatedly and you nod with a smile.

“I—I cannot believe it!” He chuckles, a grin etching into his face almost permanently as he lifts you up in the air and twirls you around, “We’re going to have a child!”

“Looks like we won’t have to annul your marriage after all.” His mother remarks snarkily and suddenly you understand the reason behind why she had been pressuring him to be intimate with you and how he could not get out of it, “Lucky for you.”

You pay no attention to her words, instead focusing on Jeongguk’s ecstatic reaction at the news and his bright smile. Pushing even the words of your mother, your brother, your duty and responsibilities to the back of your mind and reveling in the happy moment for now.

Unintentional though it may have been, you have found your way to his heart and though it breaks your own heart to use him, to trick him like this, you have a role to play and a duty to fulfill towards your family.

Written By: Admin Sangria

Edited By: Admin Midnight

Next Parts: Part V Part VI

#kkreationsnet #bangtan bookclub #BangtanWriters-Net #kreativewritersnet #bts #bts smut #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook smut #bts jeongkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #kpop smut #bts angst #kpop angst #jungkook angst #bts jeongguk

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lenfaz · 7 years

Text

Time Upon Once, ch. 14 (14/?)

Summary: Killian Jones is a bailbonds man, living in Boston and doing his own thing. But on his 29th birthday, a kid knocks on his door and claims to be his son. What happens when Killian is forced to face his past along with a mystery prophecy about his own purpose in life?

Rating: M (eventually)

A huge thank you to @tnlph @businesscasualprincess and @blessed-but-distressed for beta duties and @shady-swan-jones jones for the banner!

Tagging a few people that showed interest in this story:@lk0622 @nowforruin @sambethe @xemmaloveskillianx @l-e-x-a-xd @profoundlyfadedprincess @once-uponacaptain @icecubelotr44 @poetic-justice-96 @allietumbles @el-kelpo @jennjenn615 @leiandcharles @midnightswans (want to be tagged? let me know and I’ll do it)

on Tumblr: I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII

ao3 ff.net

Chapter XIV

The night had grown bitterly cold, even inside the Station. Killian left David sitting by his desk in his office and quickly boiled some water, pouring himself and the other man a cup of tea.

David seemed lost in his own thoughts when Killian handed him the mug. “Thank you,” he said, his eyes meeting Killian’s gaze dead on, like a man with nothing to hide. “I hope Kathryn’s somewhere warm, not out in this cold.”

Killian wanted to believe David’s good intentions were sincere. He wanted to believe the man in front of him had nothing to do with his wife’s disappearance. That he was genuinely concerned about her whereabouts. That he wasn’t simply putting on an act for Killian’s benefit. But he’d chased enough skips and scumbags in the last decade to know that evil came in all shapes and forms.

“Mate, I think you need to start thinking about your situation here. Your wife is missing. You’re allegedly in love with another woman.” Killian reached for the phone record sheet. “And then there’s this phone call you can’t seem to explain.”

“I know, I know,” David sighed, his eyes scanning the sheet of paper again. “I can’t explain why it says that.” He looked at Killian with a troubled expression. “I swear, I didn’t do anything to Kathryn.”

Killian studied him for a long moment, trying not to show his internal struggle. He had proof, in black and white, that the man had lied to him - at least about the phone call. And yet, his internal lie detector, the one thing he’d relied on his entire life - other than Emma’s keen instincts about pretty much everything - was screaming against it. David seemed sincere in his statement and so troubled about the entire situation that even despite everything he knew about human nature, he couldn’t bring himself to hold the man. He knew that in cases like this, he couldn’t make a false move and compromise the entire investigation.

“I’ve been around a lot of liars and they usually have better material,” Killian took a sip from his mug. He stood to open the door of his office. “Now go home.”

“I can go?” David asked warily, clearly confused by this.

“I don’t even know if there is a crime yet, mate.” Killian leaned on the door. “Go home and get some sleep.”

“Thank you.” David placed the mug back down on the desk and stood up to leave. He’d crossed the threshold before Killian spoke again. “David?” he called, waiting until the other man turned back to him. “Perhaps you should consider hiring a lawyer.”

David looked crestfallen as he nodded and left the station.

/-/

Killian chose to walk the few blocks home, letting the chill seep into his bones in the hopes it might numb his mind a little and put a stop to his raging thoughts. His peace of mind was short lived, however, as Mary Margaret appeared on the sidewalk before him, reaching out for him, a hint of frantic fear in her voice.

“Is he okay? David?”

It seemed she still cared, even after all of David’s deceptions. Killian sighed, giving her a small smile as he slowed down and let her fall into step beside to him. “Aye, he’s shaken up but on his way home.”

“Any news from Kathryn? Did you check with Boston?”

Killian shook his head in defeat. “She’s not there, Mary Margaret.”

“What happened to her?” There was something in her voice that seemed not being able to grasp the magnitude of what was to come, and Killian felt an overwhelming need to protect her, to make her realize what she was about to face.

If she thought ten volunteers dropping out of her bloody festival was bad, she wasn’t going to survive what came next.

“All we know is that Kathryn found out about you two, treated you to a well-deserved slap and has now has vanished, her car found abandoned by the side of the road.”

Mary Margaret had stopped walking, her expression wounded and stricken. His words had made a dent in her, he could see it.

“Well deserved? Is that what you think?” The obvious hurt in her voice tugged at Killian’s better nature. But best she hear it from him.

He took a slow step towards her, his hand reaching out to grasp her shoulder.

“No, not at all, darling. But that’s what they will. I’m just trying to prepare you for how bad things are going to get if Kathryn isn’t found soon.”

“They wouldn’t think that David-” Mary Margaret started but Killian cut her off.

“They already do. And he’s not doing himself any favors by following you around with yearning looks and doey eyes the same day his wife goes missing.” Killian swallowed, his eyes meeting hers. “So if you know something, if there is anything about yesterday that you haven’t told me….”

“I don’t know anything” Mary Margaret attested. “I wasn’t with him. I haven't even talked to him today.”

Killian knew she was telling him the truth. “Aye.” He nodded and prodded her to start walking again. “Let’s go home, it’s bloody freezing out here.”

They hadn’t even made it ten steps in the direction of the loft when they both spotted Ruby standing by the bus stop. She was carrying a suitcase in one hand and seemed to be in the middle of fending off the insistent attentions of one Dr. Whale. From Killian’s vantage point, it didn’t look as though Whale’s advances were welcome.

“No, I really don’t need a ride.” Ruby’s words were firm, even with that creeping edge of annoyance. Her meaning was impossible to misinterpret.

And yet, Whale persisted with all the ignorance of a man that didn’t know when to stop. “It’s awfully cold. Let me carry your bag.”

The second step that Ruby took back spurred both Killian and Mary Margaret into action.

“Dr. Whale,” Mary Margaret called in a sharp tone.

Whale turned around, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Mary Margaret,” he said as his eyes traveled over her figure. Gods, Killian hated the idiot. To think that just today, he’d been encouraging Mary Margaret to perhaps give him another chance.

Killian’s contempt must have been visible on his face because Whale cleared his throat. “Sheriff, I was just, um, I-” He pointed towards the street. “Maybe I should-”

“Get lost, mate,” Killian didn’t have enough energy left in him to be polite at this point.

Whale nodded in acquiesce and simply walked away while Mary Margaret checked on Ruby. “Was he bothering you?”

Ruby shook her head with a wry smile. “The day I can’t handle a leech is the day I leave town.” She turned around and Killian could see her breath coming out in puffs. “Which this is, I guess.”

The suitcase should have been a dead giveaway, if Killian weren’t already bone tired. “You’re leaving?”

“I had a fight with Granny. Quit my job,” Ruby declared with only a hint of a smile.

“You quit? Where’re you going?” Mary Margaret’s frantic voice made Killian’s senses wake up a little.

“I don’t know. Away.” Ruby shrugged, a hint of apprehension coming to her eyes as she eyed the bus stop sign.

“Buses out of town don’t really happen.” Killian hated to burst the woman’s bubble, but he hadn’t seen any buses in the time he’d been here. Before now he hadn’t paid it much mind. He hadn’t wanted to think of the implications, what with Henry’s theories about cursed towns. “Also, you might want a destination first. Figure out what you want to do?”

He knew a thing or two about running away from places and he didn’t think Ruby would make it without thinking a little about it first. Killian? For him it was a second nature to simply pack one bag, get in his car and drive away… but he’d had a lifetime of moving from one place to another, whereas Ruby, to his knowledge, had never left Storybrooke.

“Hey,” Mary Margaret started in that tone that Killian knew well. He’d been on the receiving end of it on a different chilly night. “If you need a place to figure things out, you could always come home with us.”

Oh for the love of… just what he needed after the day he’d had. Not to mention the days he’d have ahead if Kathryn didn’t turn up.

Mary Margaret turned to look at him, her concern palpable, and he could feel his resolve crumbling. She was right, it wasn’t good form to leave a girl stranded in the street on such a cold night. He was a gentleman - or so his mother used to say.

“Yes, lass, you can have my room.” He moved around to pick up Ruby’s suitcase. “I’ll take the couch.” He gave Mary Margaret a pointed look. If people weren’t already talking before, the fact that he was now an unattached man living with not just one but two single ladies, was going to be the talk of the town.

Mary Margaret seemed to read all his thoughts and soon her lips were turning up into a smile. “Nonsense Killian, you’re a big boy and you need to be upstairs… You wouldn’t fit on the couch anyway.” She linked her arm with Ruby’s and gave him her best impression of a kinky smile. “Ruby and I can share my bed.”

He tilted his head and cocked a salacious eyebrow. “Hang on, let me go get Whale… he might want to hear that. Maybe even beg you to let him watch.”

/-/

Killian didn’t stay on the ground floor long enough to find out about the sleeping arrangements for the night. After safely depositing Ruby’s suitcase in a corner of the room, by the couch, he tilted his head in a farewell bid and escaped upstairs. He barely had time to change into his sleeping clothes before he collapsed into the bed and let the exhaustion of the day drag him down into a deep slumber.

He woke up the next morning slightly disoriented - he’d been dreaming about Emma again. The details had been fuzzy, but there he could feel a desperation in her dream version that made his throat close in despair as he fought the dread in the pit of his stomach. Running a hand through this hair, he picked up a change of clothes and headed downstairs, ready to start the day.

The ground floor of the loft was deserted, a note left on the counter - next to a covered plate - informed him that both Ruby and Mary Margaret had taken off for the day. He smiled at the fact that they were thoughtful enough to leave him coffee and breakfast ready and he quickly jumped into the shower. After dispatching the pancakes and two mugs of coffee, rinsing the dishes and tidying up a bit, he was ready to start patrolling the town for any clues he might have missed before heading into the station later.

/-/

Killian walked into the station, the muscles on his back already aching from the time spent pounding the pavement trying to find some clues, when a feminine voice surprised him.

“Sheriff’s station. Hey, Miss Ginger. Uh, no, that’s not a prowler. That’s Archie’s dog – Pongo. Throw him a vanilla wafer. He’ll quiet down. Did you still want to talk to Killian? Great. Glad I could help.” Killian took a few steps into the room, marveling at the site of Ruby - looking like, well, Ruby - manning the phone efficiently as she dispatched the call, Henry sitting right next to her. Her little smile warmed his heart. She seemed to be in a better mood than the night before.

“How are you?” He asked as the threw the keys over his desk and discarded his leather jacket.

“Great!” Ruby said sarcastically, her smile now fading into a pout. “Except that I can’t do anything.”

There was something in her voice that tugged at Killian’s heart. He remembered that feeling of inadequacy very well. It had been imprinted on him - and Emma - time after time from foster family after foster family. It’d only been the memories of his parents and brother’s loving words what had prevented him believing the worst of what they said about him. It seemed like Ruby needed a little of that encouragement these days.

“I’m sure that is not true, lass. I’ve just seen you attending to that call very efficiently.”

“That?” The disbelief in her voice was heartbreaking. “That was nothing.”

Killian clenched his jaw, ready to contradict her but stopping himself short as a new idea formed in his head. From the files he’d been pouring over after Graham’s death, he knew there was budget enough in the station to cover for a deputy and an assistant/secretary at the station. The positions had simply never been filled - at least not until Graham had offered him the deputy job. He could use someone like Ruby to help him out. She knew how to manage the phones, was cordial enough and had the town knowledge to stop the more petty matters from ever reaching his desk. Besides, he’d set up a hotline in hopes that someone had seen anything related to Kathryn’s disappearance. He could use Ruby’s help to sort out the pranksters from the legitimate tips. And quite honestly, he could use someone around in the office to distract him from the silence that had filled the place since it’d been only him on the job.

“No, it isn’t nothing.” He made his tone firm but gentle at the same time as his eyes focused on her. “I have some the wiggle room in the budget, and I could use someone like you to help out around here if you’re willing.”

Ruby’s eyes lit with cheer and her smile widened as she quickly stood up from the chair and faced him. “Yes! Killian, thank you so much! I could answer the phone and help out. What else do you need? I can organize files, clean up. Please, I want to be useful.”

Her bubbly energy and eagerness to help made Killian smile softly. “I tell you what. I’m currently focused on the Kathryn Nolan case and I’d be grateful if you’d be so kind as to grab us some lunch. I am in desperate need of a burger and fries.”

“Done.” She smirked as she grabbed her jacket and bag, turning to Henry. “Do you want anything?”

“Two chocolate chips, and apple pie and a hot dog.”

Killian chuckled as he reached for his wallet and handed Ruby some money. “He’s at that growing age it seems.”

He was heading to his office when he heard Ruby speak again. “Mary Margaret! I’m getting lunch for everyone, do you want some?”

Killian turned in time to see Mary Margaret shake her head before her eyes found his. She looked concerned and slightly frightened.

“It’s David,” she said as she stood next to Killian, her voice filled with worry. “He’s in the woods and there’s something wrong with him.” Her eyes were begging for Killian’s help. “He looked right through me as he didn’t know me… as if he was a different person.”

/-/

Killian took a few moments to shrug on his leather jacket and review the paperwork spread around his desk while Henry carefully locked his storybook in one of the drawers in the deputy desk.

“Lad, I’m sorry to cut your visit short, but I need to investigate this situation with David.”

“It’s okay,” Henry lift one of his shoulders in an understanding way. “I’m supposed to meet my mom anyway.” He handed Killian the keys of the drawer and gave him a quizzical look, that look he’d come to associate with all Operation Cobra’s affairs. “You know, you can let Ruby do more.”

“Is that so?” Killian’s lips curve into a smile, still marveled at his son’s imagination to find a fairytale character match for every person in the town. “And who might Ruby be?”

“Little Red Riding Hood.”

Killian almost snorted as he tried to connect Ruby’s alluring image with the one he had in his mind from the childhood tale. “Really? With the innocent smile and the little basket? I really don't see it, Henry.”

“She’s a badass. She just doesn’t remember how cool she is or what she’s capable of. But it’s true.” Henry’s unwavering faith in people never ceased to amaze Killian. He gave his son a small smile and a quick nod of his head as the child left the station and Ruby walked in, her shoulders slumped and sad smile on her face.

“Here’s your lunch,” she announced as she placed the brown bag and the sodas on the desk. “One thing I know I can do right after all.”

Henry had a point about her lack of confidence and Killian ached for her. He never thought Ruby as anything but a confident person from the way she’d engaged with customers and everyone in town. But the way she carried herself - almost crass at times - seemed to be just a facade to hide her real feelings. Killian could relate to that, as he’d resorted to hiding his true feelings underneath a tough exterior a few times as well.

“I tell you what, lass.” He grabbed the paper bag and the sodas. “Let’s pack this up and we can eat in the car. I need to head into the woods and I could use your help with the search.”

Ruby seemed uncertain. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to screw it up. I mean I’ll do it with flair, but-” she shrugged her shoulders in a self-deprecating way that Killian knew so well.

“Flair is a requisite for the job, darling.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Besides, you can’t possibly be worse at tracking in the woods than me. I promise, you’ll be fine.”

/-/

The ride towards the edge of town was silent while Killian devoured his burger quickly, mulling over the past few days, not being able to control some of the thoughts invading his mind. He’d already had enough with the gossip surrounding Mary Margaret and him living together - and her dalliance with David - to add any more tattles regarding Ruby. And he didn’t want to give any impression to the woman that he might be interested in anything other than having her lend a helping hand around the station. He pulled over the side at the beginning of the trail that went into the woods.

“Ruby,” he started, clearing his throat, warmth blushing his cheeks. “You know I'm not taking you into the woods to try anything, aye? I mean, you know that me offering you the job is not-” he stuttered over his words while Ruby quirked an eyebrow at him. “When we first met, I might have made a few remarks but I-”

Her lips curved into a smile and she pressed a hand over his arm to stop his idiotic babbling. “Relax, hotshot. It’s clear to all of us that you’re still hung up on Henry’s mother. A decade later.” She looked at him from top to bottom, assessing him. “She must have been one hell of a girl.”

His mind filled with images of Emma: from her quirky smiles to her fiercest looks and everything in between. Everything that made him miss her day in and out.

“That she was,” he admitted softly as they got out of the car and headed to the woods.

A few months living here in Maine, but Killian still had little to no idea on what he was doing while tracking in the woods. He tried to scout the terrain and pay attention to footprints on the ground, but his attempts were feeble at best. After all, he thought those looked like fresh boot prints but being actually sure was a different matter altogether.

“This place is massive. How are we supposed to find one guy?” Ruby was having a hard time finding some of the confidence she seemed to flaunt around the diner.

“Perhaps we can hear him?” Killian offered but he didn’t sound sure even to his own ears.

“Massive, Killian.” She threw her hands in frustration.

“Look, I think those boot prints might be fresh. Let’s follow those and see what turns out.”

Ruby looked at him with despair. “I shouldn’t be here… I’m probably going to ruin this for you.”

Before Killian was able to refute her words, Ruby had stopped dead in her feet, her head tilting to the side, her features changing completely. “Wait. I hear him.”

“You what?” he asked confused.

She tilted her head to the side and turned towards a path that went deep into the woods- “I can hear him, or something like him. Don't you?”

All he could hear was the sound of the wind brushing on the leaves, birds chirping and perhaps something that could be running water. A man? Not really. Ruby didn’t wait for his reply before she darted deeper into the woods and Killian had no other choice but to follow, putting extra care to watch where he was stepping.

“Over here!” he heard Ruby call for him and when he turned his head to where the sound was, he found Ruby standing over a pair of feet covered in men's boots. He took two quick strides and the sight in front of him revealed a bleeding and unconscious David. It was very much like the last time they’d found him in the woods, only that this time he was fully clothed instead that wearing only a hospital gown.

“David!” Killian called as he leaned over and shook the man, trying to wake him up. After a few shakes, David opened his eyes, looking confused and disoriented.

“Killian? Ruby?” He struggled to focus as Killian slowly helped him seat.

“Mate, do you remember anything?”

“No, I - what is going on? I was in your office and now… why am I here?”

Killian’s breath caught in his throat. “You don’t remember anything since last night?”

David shook his head and Killian felt his blood run cold.

This was bad.

/-/

Killian sent Ruby back to the station on the patrol car while he rode the ambulance with David towards the hospital. He sat on a chair nearby as Whale ran some tests on David and approached them both as the doctor gave David a diagnostic.

“Bruised, scratched up, a little dehydrated. Nothing out of the ordinary in cases like this.”

“What about the cut on his head?” Killian asked, as if to see if there might be something else going on there, like it being a defensive wound.

Whale seemed to read the intent of his question but had the tact not to verbalize Killian’s line of thinking out loud - almost unbelievable considering how tactless the wretched doctor was when it came to the female population of the town. “The cut is superficial, it could have been easily done when he fell down in the woods. I can refer him to Hopper for a full psychological evaluation but in my professional opinion, whatever caused the original blackout when he came out of his coma is the same issue we’re dealing with here.” He tilted his head as he pointed out David’s actions. “Disappearing, acting out, having no recollection of it later.”

Killian saw David flinching at Whale’s words and while the man still wasn’t his favorite person in town, he had a job to do as Sheriff. “We will get to the bottom of this, David.” He turned to face Whale again. “He talked to someone while in this trance… is that a common occurrence?”

“There have been cases of people doing all sorts of things in similar situations-” Whale started with the intention of expanding, but David cut him off, his eyes focused on Killian.

“You want to know if it’s possible I made that call.” Killian tried to keep his face blank, to not give away what he was thinking but it seemed David wasn’t fooled easily. The other man’s eyes widened. “More than that? If I could have taken her? Killed her?”

The last of his words came out in almost a hysterical shriek and Whale was quick to rush to David’s side. “Take it easy, Mr. Nolan, this cannot be good for you.”

But David’s eyes were fixated on Killian and he couldn’t avoid the other man’s pleading stare. “I’m just trying to piece it all together, that’s all. I’m trying to get to the bottom of this and find your missing wife.”

Maybe his words were harsh, but Killian needed to be strong in his determination to get to the truth in this case. He’d already been fooled once with the phone records and while he didn’t want to bring external examples to this, the man in front of him had quite dexterously fooled both his wife and his mistress. He might seem like a good bloke, but Killian wasn’t that sure.

David’s retort died on his lips as Regina’s commanding voice pierced the room. “Stop talking, David.” Killian turned to see her storming the room in all her majestic glory, her eyes poised to him with furious glee. “Why are you here? Why doesn’t this man have a lawyer present? Have you even read him his rights?”

Killian clenched his jaw and almost spitted the words out, his hand fisting at the side. “I’m here because I found him passed out on the woods and I’m trying to piece this together. I haven’t read him his rights because he’s not under arrest or even under questioning.” He took two steps and towered over Regina, who didn’t even move a muscle. “I’m here because, whether you like it or not, I’m the bloody Sheriff of this town and I’m doing my bloody job. Now why are you here, Miss Mills?” Regina’s eyes darkened as Killian decided to forego her town mayor status and he relished on that. “It seems to me that you might be interfering with an ongoing police investigation.”

At those words, Regina took one step closer to him and gave him a triumphant glare. “I’m his emergency contact.”

What the bloody hell? Had David been playing the field with Regina too? How many women were connected to this bloody idiot?

Without uttering a word, Killian turned his head and cocked an eyebrow at David, urging him to explain this strange situation. David looked confused. “I thought it got changed to Kathryn…”

Killian almost bought it, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe anything from the man at this point. He turned to Regina for her to explain.

She cleared her throat. “Kathryn is currently unavailable. Some people haven’t found her yet.”

Right, of course she’d turn the blame on him. Killian contemplated a sarcastic retort back to Regina, but it was futile at this point. He had better things to do with his time. He could leave the mayor to fuss over poor David while he focused on finding Kathryn and getting to the bottom of this.

“You’re right, Miss Mills. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go back to my duties.”

He didn’t even wait for a reply as he turned and left the room. He was going to canvass all of Maine if needed, but he was going to figure this out. And he had an idea on where to start… but he needed help.

/-/

Ruby had answered the phone in a friendly tone and it had taken a few tries for Killian to convince her to head back out into the woods and search near the Toll Bridge in his stead. Part of him - that part that always sounded eerily like Liam in his head - was telling him that one certainly shouldn’t leave a lass to fend for herself in the woods, especially with a possible kidnapper on the loose. But there was another part of him that had seen Ruby in her element tracking down David. When she’d let go of her fears, she’d been a much accomplished tracker in all of fifteen minutes that he’d ever been in his entire life.

Besides, he couldn’t leave the hospital yet. David was about to be released and Killian was planning to go back to his old bailsbond days and follow the man’s steps thoroughly, albeit stealthily. If David was lying, his mask would have to slip at some point. And Killian wanted to make sure he was there when it happened.

Ruby called him the moment she was into the woods and Killian did his best to soothe her frantic fears as he encouraged her to keep on going.

“Look for anything that seems out of place. Something that is there but shouldn’t be,” he tried to explain, frustrated for not being able to articulate himself better. But how can someone explain a hunch? It had no reason or logic, it was simply a deep-rooted belief that she’d be able to find something he most certainly could not.

There were sounds of steps and rustling on the other side and Killian held his breath, his eyes still darting towards the front of the animal shelter from time to time to ensure David was still there. Finally Ruby spoke again, her voice sounding slightly far away, as if she’d placed the phone on the ground.

“Any other clues?”

“I don’t know, something of Kathryn’s would be a good start.” He took a deep breath. “You can do this, lass. I have faith in you.”

Blasted hell, he was starting to sound like Henry.

The piercing sound of a scream on the other side of the line made Killian jump and he fought not to swerve the car, his heart beating frantically in his chest. “

“Ruby!” the fear was palpable in his raised voice, as he held onto his phone. “Lass! Lass!”

/-/

Killian didn’t know how long it took him to get to where Ruby was. When she’d finally stopped screaming and started blurting words frantically in between fits of hysterical sobs, the only words that Killian could make sense of there were ‘box’ and ‘blood’. He put on the siren and broke all speed limits, not really caring about anything but making his way towards the poor girl that he’d sent on the woods on a wild chase. His guilt was eating at his guts as he took one look at Ruby’s tear-stained face and without giving a blasted thought to propriety or gossip, he took her into his arms in a comforting embrace.

“I’m so sorry… I never should have asked you to come here on your own,” he blurted as she sniffed into his chest.

She took a deep calming breath. “It’s okay, I’m the one who wanted to try new things. I guess I got what I wished for.”

/-/

Killian couldn't quite recall the details of the ride back to the station. His heart was beating frantically in his chest and his fingers were holding the wheel with such force that his knuckles were turning white. He’d been a reckless fool in letting Ruby go out on her own. What had he been thinking?

Luckily, Ruby had quickly pulled herself together and she seemed almost like her old self by the time there were both standing in his office, the wooden jewelry box she’d found placed on his desk.

“It’s what I think it is, isn’t it?” Ruby asked softly, her eyes fixed on the box. Killian reached out to open it once again, almost wishing that it had all been a trick on both of their minds the first three times they looked.

Unfortunately, it was not the case. It was still a bloody heart sitting in there. Ruby let out a loud exhale and turned around.

“I can’t look anymore.”

“Ruby, I am so sorry,” he started, guilt tripping inside his chest.

She turned around and gave him a sheepishly smile. “You were just trying to help, Killian. You couldn’t have known I was going to find this hidden in the woods. It’s all my fault for trying to do something different.”

“Your fault?” He choked on the words. How could she possibly think that any of this was her fault? “Ruby look at me.” He waited until she met his eyes and gave her his most encouraging smile. “You were great in this Ruby. You found David - and then this- with little to no direction at all while I was still trying to figure out which way was north in that blasted forest. I’ll still be trapped there looking for a clue if it weren’t for you.” He pointed to the box. “As awful as this is, it’s a good start for me to figure out things. I’m impressed with you, Ruby.”

He could tell she was fighting to accept the compliment. “I was scared out of my mind, Killian.”

“And you did it anyway. All the more reason to be impressed, Miss Lucas.”

She squeezed his arm. “Thank you, Sheriff Jones. But if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to see if Granny wants to give me my old job back. I don’t know what I want to do yet, but I know this is not it.”

He chuckled and nodded his head. “Fair enough.”

/-/

Killian took his time pulling the toolkit and dusting the box for finger prints, collecting them and running them through the system. He carefully executed each step, paying attention to ensure there were no mistakes that might later be ground for nullifying the findings. If the system came back with a match - and he was quite sure it would and they’d probably be David’s - he didn’t want Regina or any bloody lawyer in this town questioning the evidence.

His fingers tapped on the desk nearby the computer as the system run, his eyes darting from the screen to the wooden box, his mind already plotting how he would bring the man in for more questioning.

But then the system beeped and a name appeared on the screen. Killian had to blink twice to ensure he was reading properly.

Mary Margaret Blanchard.

He could feel the blood leaving his face as his heart stopped. Bloody Hell.

/-/

Killian punched his hand against the steering wheel in frustration, letting out a long exhale. He refused to believe it, but all signs pointed that he’d been played as a fool. He’d left the Station in a haze of thoughts, determined to find Mary Margaret and sort this out with her in the best possible way. But once he’d been able to track her down - she wasn’t at the loft, or Granny’s, or at the school - it was the last place he’d expected to see her.

He got out of his car and stole another glance at the animal shelter, witnessing her petite frame sitting on the edge of the couch as she talked to David. She was there. Not a day had gone by and she’d rushed to David’s side like a lovesick puppy, not caring about anyone or anything else.

Did she?

He knew evidence didn’t lie, that the fingerprints match name burning a hole in his retina was the truth he needed to abide. Had Mary Margaret lied to him all this time? Was she really the sweet school teacher that had fallen for the wrong man and had been tarnished in the process as he wanted to believe? Or was she a jealous woman, who was willing to do anything to secure the love of the man she wanted?

Killian had wanted to believe the first so badly, had wanted to believe that someone was as good as she’d seemed. He’d wanted to believe that after a decade, someone had come to genuinely care for him again.

And yet, the sole sight of Mary Margaret next to David in that animal shelter made his blood boil. She’d played him. She’d played them all and he’d been a fool for believing in it.

He took a deep breath, cracking his neck to the side as he buried the pain and anger inside of him and made his way towards the shelter. He closed his eyes for a moment before he pulled the door open and entered.

David was the first one to see him. His eyes were glazy, as if he’d been holding back tears of desperation. “What is it?” he asked, his voice as thin as a threat, the fear and ache palpable in it. “Did you find her?”

Mary Margaret turned to face Killian, her eyes filled with concern and he knew in that very moment that everything he’d been telling himself for the past ten minutes had been nonsensical. He knew it could not have been her.

He knew her.

But he still had a job to do. As much as his heart ached and he refused to believe it.

“We found a box in the woods.” Killian wasn’t even sure how his voice sounded so confident and collected when he felt anything but. “There was a human heart inside it.”

If someone’s world could fall apart in a moment, then David Nolan was the perfect image for it. He almost collapsed as his knees gave away and it was only Mary Margaret’s rushing through his side to support him.

“I’m going to send it for more testing, but there isn’t anyone else missing.” He wasn’t sure why he kept talking, other than he felt that if he’d stop, he was going to fall apart. David’s sobs were heartbreaking and a part of Killian wished to simply banish himself from this town forever. Mary Margaret turned to face him, her face nothing but sadness and concern.

“Maybe you should go.”

Killian tilted his head as he felt his own eyes filling in with tears he wasn’t willing to shed. “There were fingerprints inside the lid, Mary Margaret. I ran them through the records in town and there was a match.”

His voice was breaking and he had to take a step back to compose himself.

“Arrest me!” David’s word cut through the same between them like a blade.

“David, no!” Mary Margaret sobbed, her hand trying to reach him but failing.

“Mate,” Killian started, not even sure how he was going to continue speaking. “They weren’t yours.”

There was shock in both set of eyes. Killian didn’t want to, but he forced himself to meet her eyes. “They were Mary Margaret’s.”

If a heart could break again and again, he was damn sure Mary Margaret’s was as her eyes widened in realization and she turned to David only to find the man looking at her in disbelief.

#cs ff #lenfaz fics #time upon once #captain swan #canon divergence

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