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suituuup · 3 years

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pieces - chapter five

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn't expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rated: E (drug use and emotional abuse)

ao3 link

As the rest of the day ticked by, Beca kept replaying the events at Sarah’s coffee shop over and over, unable to pinpoint what she could have said to make Chloe bolt like that. She managed to focus on her tasks at hand over the afternoon and headed home around 6, groaning as soon as she stepped inside when she remembered she had promised Sarah to cook her dinner.

She pondered on canceling for half a minute because all she felt like doing was taking a long shower and eating pizza in bed, but she already felt guilty about a lot of things these past couple of days.

So she took a quick shower instead and put on some comfy jeans and a plaid shirt, tossing her blow-dried hair in a messy bun atop her head. With one of her favorite blues records playing throughout her home, Beca set to work to make creamy salmon pasta with spinach, nursing a much-needed glass of wine as she cooked.

“Babe?”

“In the kitchen,” Beca called out over the music, lowering the heat on the boiling water and dropping a handful of spaghetti in. She smiled as Sarah brushed a kiss to her cheek. “Hey.”

“Hello you,” Sarah murmured, squeezing her hip as she walked past her to set a bottle of wine on the counter. “Smells delicious.”

“Hopefully it tastes good, too.” Not that Beca was worried; she had been making this dish for a few years. “Wine?”

Sarah hopped onto the counter next, humming. “Yes, please.”

Beca opened the fridge and took the bottle out, reaching on the tip of her toes (shhh) for a glass in the cabinet over her head. She poured some wine in and handed it to Sarah. “Sorry I disappeared earlier.”

After Chloe had left, Beca wasn’t in the mood to eat or finish her coffee, leaving a $20 on the table on her way out.

“Was that the friend you told me about yesterday?”

Beca puffed out a sigh. “Yeah. She’s…” It’s complicated, Beca was about to say, but she figured she owed Sarah some details after what happened at her workplace. “She’s in a bad place. And I wanna help her, but she doesn’t seem to want any help. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Sarah covered Beca’s hand with her own, the pad of her thumb stroking her skin back and forth. “Has it been a long time since you last saw each other?”

“Over six years. We fell out of touch about five years ago. Well, she cut us all out of her life nearly overnight.”

Sarah tilted her head to the side. “Us?”

“The Bellas, from college. Chloe and I were co-captains.” Beca swallowed around the lump forming in her throat as a wave of nostalgia hit her with full force. “She just… she was my best friend.”

“I’m sorry, baby. Maybe give her some time and she’ll come around?”

Beca doubted that, but she nodded anyway. “Yeah, maybe.” She shook her head, squeezing Sarah’s hand as she mustered a smile. “Enough about me. How was your day?”

As the next week ticked by, Beca started to lose hope. In true Beca Mitchell fashion, she threw herself into work to avoid dealing with her emotions, staying at the office until midnight most days.

A knock on her open-door one night made her jolt. She had lost herself in the view and her own thoughts, unaware someone was still at the office.

Beca spun her chair around to face the door, finding Luke in the doorway. “Why are you here so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Luke pointed out, inviting himself in. He set a sheet of paper in front of Beca, then plopped down in the seat on the other side of her desk. “This is incredible. You’ve got to record it.”

Beca glanced down at her own handwriting, heavily regretting showing Luke that song she wrote a few days ago. “I don’t know, man.”

“What?” Luke asked, incredulous. “Becky, you haven’t been able to write a lyric for the past three years and now that you’ve got a platinum record worthy song, you don’t want to use it?”

Beca nibbled on the inside of her cheek. “It feels too personal, I’m not sure I feel like sharing it with the world.” She glared at him next. “And stop calling me Becky, this is getting old.”

“I’m serious, this might be your best work yet,” Luke insisted. “Think about it?”

“I will. Now get out of my office,” Beca muttered.

“You got it, Becky,” Luke teased, easily catching the stress ball Beca tossed at his head, chuckling at her poor attempt. “You should go home and get some sleep.”

“Yeah. Night.”

“Goodnight.”

It turned out Sarah had been right.

When Beca wasn’t expecting it anymore, Chloe called. And she sounded like Chloe. Hope flared within her once more, but she tried not to let it engulf her whole being. While Chloe reaching out was an enormous step, Beca threaded carefully, knowing a lot could happen in five days.

She wished she had been wrong, but as it pushed 1 pm that Thursday afternoon, it was pretty clear Chloe wouldn’t show. Beca didn’t have her phone number or any other way to contact her. Her heart felt heavy as she headed back to BMLJ for her meeting with Jesse regarding his movie score, and her head was too full of thoughts to completely focus on work.

“Earth to Beca.”

Beca hummed, snapping out of her daze. Jesse was staring at her in a mix of concern and curiosity. “Sorry.”

“Do you wanna do this another time?”

“No, no,” Beca insisted, straightening up. “I’m okay.” She hated how well Jesse knew her, and heaved a sigh when he gave her that look. “It’s Chloe.”

“Chloe Beale?” Jesse asked. “She’s in New York?”

“Yeah. I found her a couple of weeks ago. She’s a stripper at some hyped club in Times Square.”

“Holy shit, seriously?”

Beca proceeded to tell him everything over the next ten minutes, Jesse hanging onto every word. “Am I stupid? Trying so hard to help someone who clearly doesn’t want to be helped?”

“No, you’re not stupid. You’re a softie under that tough exterior and you care deeply about the people you love. Especially Chloe. I was in the front row, remember?”

Beca grimaced, some of that decade-old guilt surfacing. “Dude…”

“It’s fine. I’m definitely over all of that, but we both know Chloe is too important for you to just give up. And from how you described her, and that phone call? It sounds like she still cares, but she lost herself along the way and is now in so deep she has trouble coming back on her own. Maybe she just needs to hear that asking for help isn’t giving up, but rather refusing to give up.”

Those words echoed deep within Beca, and she found herself nodding, filled with newfound energy to fight for this. “I need to go by the club. Tonight. Her boss might kick me out if I show up inside, but maybe I can wait by the back door?”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t have to, man. It might be hours before we see her.”

“That guy sounds creepy, you shouldn’t go on your own.”

Beca sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll pick you up around ten.”

Beca felt like they were on a stake-out as they waited in her car hours later, parked across the back alley of the club. Winter had definitely settled in in NYC and waiting in the cold for hours in freezing temperatures didn’t seem like a great plan.

She texted back and forth with Aubrey, who once more offered to come down, but Beca was concerned Chloe might think they were ambushing her.

It was pushing midnight by the time a familiar figure stepped out of the building through the side door. Chloe was on her own.

Beca slapped Jesse’s arm to wake him up. “She’s here.”

They both stepped out of the car and crossed the street when it was clear, Beca telling Jesse to wait by the corner as she tentatively approached Chloe, slipping her gloved hands inside the pockets of her dark grey wool trench coat.

She was smoking a cigarette, clad in her glitter dress under an open fleece jacket. Her gaze flickered to Beca when she spotted her, her posture turning rigid. “What are you doing here?”

There was no bite to her tone but soft curiosity, which reassured Beca further.

“Can we talk?”

Chloe glanced over her shoulder towards the door as she nibbled on her lower lip. “Five minutes, then I have to go back inside.”

She met Beca on the other side of the alley, the orange glow of the lamp post over their heads allowing Beca to trace her features. “You didn’t show earlier.”

Chloe dragged on her cigarette. “I changed my mind.”

“Is that the truth or did someone tell you not to?” She wasn’t dumb; after meeting Chloe’s boss and knowing she was his favorite, she had an inkling the two were somehow involved. And that guy just gave off a crazy possessive vibe. Chloe’s silence was her answer. “Chlo…”

“It’s more complicated than you think,” Chloe murmured, licking her lips.

“Then explain it to me,” she demanded, a desperate edge to her tone.

“Why are you doing this?” Chloe croaked out. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

Her question took Beca by surprise, and her mouth moved wordlessly for a few beats. “Because I care about you. And you’re not okay, Chlo. I want to help.”

“Beca…”

She thought back on Jesse’s words. “Asking for help is not giving up, Chloe. It’s refusing to give up. And I’m here. You just have to say the word, I’ve got you.”

Chloe shook her head, closing her eyes briefly. “I’m not--” Her eyes were filled with so much sadness when they found Beca’s that Beca had to remind herself to breathe. “I’m not worth it.”

Those four words felt like a knife lodging itself inside Beca’s heart. They stole all the air from her lungs and brought tears to her eyes. “What?” She whispered, her voice nowhere within reach as a huge lump formed in her throat. “That’s not true,” she said, with more forcefulness this time around. “It’s not, you hear me?”

Chloe kept shaking her head. “You don’t know me anymore.”

“Maybe I don’t know this version of you, but I know Chloe Beale is still in there, somewhere. I heard her on the phone the other day, remember? And I can see her now, under all those layers of sadness and lack of self-worth triggered by outside factors. I know her soul hasn’t changed, deep down. It couldn’t have, because you are the purest, kindest human being there is, and that has to still be somewhere in there.”

“I’m broken, Bec,” Chloe cried, her eyes filled to the rim with tears threatening to spill over. “I’m a crack addict. I don’t--” A sob spilled from her throat. “I spend all my money on coke and all I know how to do anymore is show my breasts for money.”

A tear rolled down Beca’s cheek as she reached for Chloe’s hand. “Then I’ll help put you back together. Piece by piece, for however long it takes. Whatever it takes, Chlo. I promise.”

“Chloe?”

Both their heads snapped towards the open door, where Marco stood. His features hardened when he saw Beca there, and Beca released Chloe’s hand, looking over her shoulder towards Jesse, who made his way over.

“What is she doing here?” He spat out as he climbed down the set of steps.

Chloe visibly swallowed, her fear radiating off her. “She’s just leaving.”

“No, I’m not,” Beca stated, loud and clear as her eyes shone fiercely. “I’m not going anywhere without Chloe.”

“You fucking homewrecker,” he muttered, crossing the alley in quick strides. Chloe stepped in front of Beca, as though to shield her with her own body. The anger swirling in his eyes shot a chill down Beca’s spine. “Move, Chloe.”

Chloe shook her head. “You should go back inside, Marco. Please don’t make a scene, it’s not worth it.”

Beca had never understood the expression ‘to see red’ until now; until she witnessed Marco backhanding Chloe with so much force she staggered back with a cry.

Unparalleled rage filled her, the kind of rage she couldn’t control. She stepped forward and raised her fist, clocking him in the face with a mean right hook. She wasn’t sure if the cracking sound came from her knuckle or his nose breaking, the pain in her hand muffled by the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Marco stumbled a few steps backward with a grunt, his eyes screwed shut as he covered his nose with his hand. But Beca wasn’t done, taking advantage of his dizzy state and stepping forward to knee him in the balls as hard as she could so he couldn’t walk until they were all safely inside the car.

“You guys get into the car,” Jesse ushered them, keeping an eye on Marco as he doubled over in pain.

“Chloe, come on,” Beca coaxed urgently, grabbing her hand and pulling. To her surprise, Chloe didn’t fight her. She seemed absolutely shell-shocked, even once they reached the car, as though her legs were carrying her on their own accord and her brain was miles behind. “Get inside, Chlo.”

Jesse jogged over a few seconds later and slid behind the wheel without Beca having to ask him, and she climbed in the backseat beside Chloe, relief washing over as the doors locked behind them and the car pulled onto the road towards safety.

#bechloe #bechloe fic #chloe beale #beca mitchell #pitch perfect fic

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symphonicdream · 3 years

Text

Call to Arms

Note: This drabble contains one instance of racism. In no way do I condone racism. So, here’s your warning against it. Read at your own risk.

For those involved, you are allowed to write your version of events that happen in this drabble.

----

There was no tear of paper to alert anyone of the portal’s presence. An alleyway was what greeted them as they exited through the portal. Kamijou Touma, Maira Espoir, Bowen Chuuno, Megumi Aino, the Hunter, Violent Violet and Melanie Sinclair all stood in the alleyway. The noise of people was considerably dampened, and she knew that they would probably be overwhelmed with the amount of people walking the streets at this time of day.

It was at least 8AM, Friday morning.

Melanie took the lead, taking them out of the alleyways and to the sidewalks. This was the shopping area of her town, and it was definitely something. Populated by various men, women and children of different sizes, colours and fashion tastes, some stopped to see watch the seven of them walk by. Touma’s misfortune manifested as him tripping over a cat and falling into a teenage girl. Said teenage girl punched him with the force of a scorned woman, causing him to shout aloud and draw more attention than they needed.

Of course, Melanie had to diffuse the situation and tell them that he was a foreign exchange student here to study English while ushering him away to the group. The remark the teenager said, though, had been something along the lines of a racist remark towards both her and Touma. She’d told them “You ching-chongs should just go back to China!” and stormed off.

Ouch.

Melanie ignored it and got Touma back to the group and continued their trek to the City Hall. It was where she’d been first summoned, and she would go back. To deny that spot entirely, and to face him down. It was quiet, save for some idle chatter from Megumi and Touma as well as Maira chiming in every so often. Bowen, the Hunter and Violet were quiet, which seemed different from what she knew of Bowen and Violet. The Hunter, though? She expected that from him.

But she didn’t expect that from everyone.

The trek to City Hall was waylaid by stoplights and crosswalks. Melanie had to drag Touma back onto the sidewalk before he got hit by a car, and then had to deal with the Hunter just crossing the street and holding up traffic. People angry honked while they crossed, and some cussed them out. All the Hunter had to do was look in their direction and they suddenly quieted down. The third time, the light somehow was green when it shouldn’t have been. Melanie pressed the light changing button but no sound emitted.

It was broken.

So, yet again, the Hunter crossed the street and held up traffic. There was even a Police Car. Melanie had to explain the situation and gesture to the light while traffic was stalled. It turned into the officer getting someone on the situation and letting them off scot-free.

However, the fourth time of street crossing got a bit dicey.

The light was green and it was okay for them to cross. Unfortunately, one of the cars almost hit Touma, screeching to a stop before they hit him and honking the horn.

“Get out of the road, asshole!” Came the voice of the driver.

“Right of way!” Melanie shouted back. “You’re running a red light!”

The driver got out of the car. A burly 6′0″ man with a shaved head and who looked like he got a chip on his shoulder. Immediately, he walked up to Melanie and shoved her, causing the group’s hackles to rise as they prepared for a fight. “You wanna go, you little whore?! Huh?!”

Melanie stumbled back from the shove, before gripping her fist tight and shouting, punching towards him but the fist never connected. In a near instant, the man’s body was blown backwards by the sheer force of the punch. Standing straight, she dusted her hands off and started walking again.

“Are you alright, Melanie?” Maira asked, concerned. Melanie nodded.

“That guy was a jerk.” Megumi commented.

“He nearly hit me with his car!” Touma was still a little shaken up by that.

At least the rest of the way there, which took an hour, was uneventful besides that. When they started to approach the City Hall, Melanie stopped walking for a few minutes. Staring at the building, looking at what it looked like. As if she’d never seen it before, but she had.

“This is it. This is where he resides. Let’s go... and stay close to me.”

They walked up the staircase leading to the automatic doors, with them sliding open and allowing them to walk inside. But Melanie knew where she was going, heading to the Administration Office. As requested, her friends did stay near her and watched as she opened the door.

The world around them faded away, replaced by the corridor she’d walked down not even a few days ago. She walked down it, and so did they. It was quiet, the sound of their footsteps the only thing they heard. The corridor seemed to stretch on, but Melanie gestured at Touma.

He reached out, touching the air in front of them with his right hand. Shattering it completely and forming the door only a few feet away. She walked forward, shoving it open and being greeted with the same greenery and waterfall that had been there when she last came here.

“I thought I’d cut off all avenues to this world. It seems I underestimated your pocket dimension.” Out of nowhere, a man clad in black appeared. His long pink hair was tied back in a ponytail and he seemed almost infuriated. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I’m here to reject your offer.” Melanie said.

“Nonsense. You’ll do as you’re told and take the seat. Become my bride as I have made you to be!” The man shouted.

“I’m not becoming anyone’s bride, shitface!” Melanie shouted back. “I’m not some doll you can pull around! I’m a human being, and I’m going to be free to choose what I want to do!”

“Melanie is not your toy!” Maira said, irritated.

“She’s our friend!” Megumi pulled out her PreChanMirror and Card.

The Hunter pulled out the red gun he usually wielded, training it on the man. As soon as he fired, the man vanished and appeared behind Melanie, kicking her in the back and sending her flying into the nearby clifface. She fell backwards onto her back, and turned over to get up but was covered by rocks except for her arms and head.

The battle began at that exact moment.

“Precure Rolling Mirror Change!” Megumi was surrounded by a pink light and changed into Cure Lovely. Immediately after, she called an attack, only to be grabbed in the face and tossed aside into the river nearby. Touma, too, was quickly taken out with a knee to the gut. The Hunter started to shoot at him again, firing with precision, but the man would disappear before any shot connected. Maira summoned a bright, glaring light, which stunned him for a few moments while Bowen also began to fire on the man.

It was clear, even with the help, they were outmatched. Violet went in to attack but he avoided it cleanly. “Hmm, even bringing a God Hunter...” The man seemed to already know about her, and that was shocking. “No matter, I am not a God, so your tricks will not work.”

The Hunter moved, sheathing the red gun and holding the golden, cylindrical casing to his chest. Melanie, who was struggling to get up from under the rocks on top of her, recognized what he was going to do. The familiar magic was starting up again.

“Soil is my power!” A circular part of the casing withdrew, extending out what seemed to be a drill. Long, black blades appeared shortly after and started to turn, creating a torrent of black wind. The Magun formed from the casing, from the blackened wind, and the man turned to face the Hunter. Unlike with the others, this was new. Noting his shocked expression, Melanie realized something.

Unlike the others, he couldn’t see to Wonderland. He knew nothing about the Hunter, nothing about what he could do. And that was their advantage. After the Magun had thawed, with the Hunter saying as such, he extended out a hand, pointing in the man’s direction. She remembered this clearly. He’d used it before during her tenure in Wonderland... The Magun.

“The Soil Charge Triad to use on you has been decided!” He reached into his belt, plucking a familiar Soil from its place.

“A bladestorm of bonds, Sword Viridian.” The bullet held a teal-ish green hue in its casing, and it was easily inserted into the Magun with a resounding Click.

Maira looked over, hazel eyes widened. “That magic-”

“The squall of fortitude, Kingdom Blue.” This bullet was a shining blue, as if torn from a kingom itself. It, too, was inserted into the Magun. Click.

“And finally... A prideful gale, Warrior Platinum.” The final bullet was a silvery-white colour, shining brightly as it was placed into the Magun. The final click resounded as the Hunter aimed at the man.

Melanie reached out a hand, finding a thread and gripping it tight. A tearing sound was heard and the man’s appearance faded away to show... a demon. With spiky, long horns and a muzzle for a mouth. It was as if the man was the Devil himself. A hellish roar echoed throughout the area, causing the ground to shake.

It was nothing short of horrific.

Cure Lovely pulled herself out of the river, getting to her feet. Despite being drenched, she yet again called forth an attack. The hellish monster opened its muzzle and shot out a stream of fire at her. It was quickly intercepted by Kamijou Touma, who blocked it with his right hand. The fire dispersed after a few seconds.

“Slaughter! I summon you, Knights of the Round!” With a bang, three colours flew from the barrels of the Magun, twirling and twisting as they flew. The Knights of the Round Summon the Hunter called forth seemed to materialize from the colours, and started their assault upon the hellish being.

Melanie finally got up, the rocks falling away as she did so. The being was avoiding the attacks everyone was trying to attempt on him. Even the summon’s attacks were being avoided. It was like a strange scenario in which the only winner would be the hellish being. She shuddered to think of what would’ve happened had she taken the offer.

But her friends were in trouble.

Melanie started to run towards the hellish being. There was no hesitation as she did so. Her skin started to glow.

“BALWYSIALL NESCELL GUNGNIR TRON!!!!!” She screamed, seemingly tearing her clothes off. But no, they only just vanished to be replaced by a quick transformation with Gungnir forming. She went to punch the hellish being but he avoided her as well. And then appeared in front of her, grabbing her by the throat and starting to choke her as he raised her up into the air.

Melanie couldn’t breathe, which meant she couldn’t sing.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The sound of a clock ticking filled their ears. The world around them grayed out, and even the hellish being was surprised enough to drop her. Footsteps echoed throughout the area, and Cure Lovely was the first to speak up.

“Who-”

“How did you escape my timelock?” A voice asked. It belonged to a young woman, who looked to be about twenty-two years old. She had short black hair tied back in a half-ponytail and teal eyes, wearing a long dark blue dress and black boots. But the odd thing was, she looked almost like an older version of Melanie. The hellish being roared, but soon turned gray himself. The young woman walked up to the group, and looked at all of them.

“They call me Azem, the Traveler.” She said. “Time magic is... somewhat of a pain to use, but I’m getting used to it. Anyways, it looks like you need more help. Fellow Traveler, who are the friends you hold close to your heart?” Azem looked to Melanie, who lowered her head and closed her eyes.

“Why are you here?” Touma asked.

“I’m here to help my counterpart, of course.” Azem said. “The one born from the orchestrations of a deluded demon. She and I are cut of the same cloth. I can see a shard of my own soul within her.” A chuckle came from her, and she inclined her head. “So, Traveler. Tell me who are your friends you hold close to your heart.”

“......” Melanie nodded. “Yukine Chris, Kazanari Tsubasa, Kohinata Miku, Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel, Regal Bryant, Meteor Survivor and G’raha Tia.”

Azem laughed a little, before holding out an orange stone. “Here, Traveler. Use this and summon them forth to your side.”

Melanie took the stone, staring at it. She’d seen Meteor with this same stone once before. Hythlodaeus had given it to him, and he’d called them both New old friends. Was this because she, too, was a shard of Azem? The woman who called herself Azem smiled a bit.

“Call forth those you hold close and dear to your heart. Your allies of other worlds.”

Melanie closed her fist around the stone, holding it close to her. From where she stood, golden areas started to form. A glyph surrounded her, with eight circles that soon emitted light from them. Azem kicked the hellish being away, sending it sliding across the grayed floor. She stood straight again, looking at it before pulling out a claymore from what seemed to be thin air and assuming a fighting stance.

The lights dispersed one by one, revealing each person whose name Melanie had said before. But there was no time for introductions, as the world soon faded back to normal and the hellish being roared. Melanie handed the stone back to Azem, who pocketed it. The hellish being summoned forth demons of its own kind. There seemed to be many.

The song originating from Melanie’s Symphogear faded out, to be replaced with a different one. Chris, Tsubasa and Miku’s Symphogears did the same, once they summoned their Gears from the pendants they wore. A Unison.

One brings shadow, one brings the light Two toned echoes, tumbling through time Three score wasted, ten cast aside Fourfold knowing, no end in sight

“Let’s end this!” Melanie shouted.

The music gave way to the girls singing the song together. The hellish being roared and charged Melanie, who moved out of the way as fast as she could. Azem made a taunting gesture, causing the hellish being’s focus to be turned onto her instead. Provoking him to her. She pulled something dark out of her chest, letting it rise. A shadowy figure.

As the battle began, the sixteen of them split off into groups of four each, which meant each group had at least one Symphogear user with them. Swords swung, guns fired, magic was cast and punches thrown. Weapons were used without end, and the battle raged on without a seeming end. The Knights of the Round moved independently of the groups, helping decimate the demonic hoarde attacking them.

Melanie could feel power swelling up inside of her. She remembered this once before. Everyone could feel it. A swell of power from within them, from origins unknown. The groups fell back.

As if in the back of their minds, they all heard a shing sound. It was time to pull forth all their respective power and finish this off. Destroy this monster before it got any worse. It was like four Limit Break bars had filled up, and it was time to use them all.

A song resounded out, as if sung by all of them in their hearts. The Swan Song of the Valkyries, a song of Finé’s thoughts of causing the Curse of Babel. It resounded loud, though none of them were singing. The four Symphogear Users’ gears transformed into a different form of X-Drive. Their hair brightened with a gradient to it, and flared out. Wings made of fire expanded out, and they lost some of the clunkiness of the Gear.

Burning X-Drive. The one they’d used before, against Shem-Ha.

Glowing runes surrounded the group, and it was time.

LIMIT BREAK

The group rushed the hellish being, each one attacking with various weapons and spells. It was like a charge attack, with each person going after another. Each attack pushed the hellish being more and more towards the clifface that he’d thrown Melanie into. The Knights of the Round proceeded to pin him to it, and Melanie stepped forward.

She put both hands together, connecting the gauntlets and letting the spear form from it. She then pointed it towards the hellish being, in a form reminiscent of Elidibus during the fight at the Crystal Tower on the First. Her friends stood behind her, readying themselves for another attack.

“We are salvation given form!” Melanie shouted, and two ghostly hands placed themselves on hers. She knew who they were. Elidibus and Kanade, lending her a hand. How odd was it that an Ascian was helping her.

“Mankind’s heroes, and their final hope!” The words were foreign, coming out of her mouth, but this was true. The sixteen of them were the hope of this world. Even though they were from different worlds, they had all come together for this. Melanie delivered the final blow, empowered by her friends.

Piercing the hellish being with the cursed spear, Gungnir.

As if crumbling to dust, the hellish being lost form. Crumbled from his head to his feet, and was blown away by the wind. Melanie stood there after all was said and done, still holding the spear out. The ground rumbled and started to shake. The ceiling seemed to start to fall.

“We need to leave now!” Azem shouted. They all booked it to the door, leaving behind the battlefield they had fought on. Once outside and on the sidewalk away from City Hall, they watched as it crumbled to the ground. No one ever went there, but the people of the city stopped to watch the empty building crumble.

It was as if something changed. The world seemed to brighten up, and Melanie felt... lighter.

This was the beginning of a life orchestrated by herself alone.

Saying goodbye had never been her strong suit.

Melanie had opened fifteen portals, each pointing to different destinations. The worlds she’d brought them from.

One by one, they left. Each given a “see you later” by Melanie, who hoped to actually see them again. Once all fifteen portals closed after the respective person walked through it, Melanie was left with Azem. She looked to the Traveler and tilted her head to the left some.

“Do you need me to-”

“No. But before I go...” She held out the stone Melanie had given back. “I’ve learned all I can from the memories held in this stone. It’s time I passed it on to my counterpart, my fellow Traveler of the Stars.”

Melanie took the stone and put it in her pocket. “....Thank you, Azem.”

“See you again.” Azem turned away and walked off before seemingly vanishing into nothingness. Melanie was left alone, standing there on the sidewalk. She walked back towards the now-crumbled City Hall and felt no magic. It truly was over.

“So the imposter has been vanquished. Quite a feat.” The voice of the Overseer had Melanie on edge, immediately turning around to see-- a young man with long black hair and eyes that looked like they contained galaxies. Wearing just a plain graphic tee that had the Disney logo on it, slacks and velcro shoes. Nothing like the Overseer she’d seen before.

“Who--”

“I am the Overseer, Ryan.” The young man bowed. “The true Overseer. I assume this form is capable of being seen by you, as you addressed me.”

“Yeah, it is-- but why-- who--?”

“I am here to offer you the seat of God of this World. This will not change anything, though I will require you to come back every now and again. No staying away for years on end anymore.” He offered a smile. “And no, I will not be attempting to take you as my bride. You’ll find someone in your eternal lifetime, Melanie Sinclair.”

“....So, this means...” She didn’t know what it meant.

“If you take it, you will become a God. An immortal being, with powers unimaginable. And I would like you to take it, as you are the only mortal who can. The others ended up like...” He could only glance at the City Hall behind him. So, the false Overseer was a man who was once given said position? Melanie could barely believe it.

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I will wait until another few centuries. But I would like you to take it. You are compassionate, kind and do not kill without cause or reason. I did not orchestrate your birth like he did, but I have been watching. And you are currently the only one who can do this. I implore you-”

Melanie shrugged.

“At this point, I think it’s obvious if we leave it for someone else... That’ll happen. So yes. I’ll take it.”

Ryan chuckled just a bit and held out a hand. A pulse of energy emitted from it and went into her. For a few moments, nothing happened until Melanie suddenly clutched at her chest and groaned. It hurt. But she endured, and soon stood back upright. The Overseer smiled.

“Welcome to Godhood, Melanie Sinclair.”

Melanie gave a small smile. Nothing would change from here, she was just an ordinary girl with God powers now. It was just another Tuesday.

And things would remain as they were for her.

For the rest of her immortal life.

-----

@project-rebirth @tetsuwan-atom @rosecoloredmuses @kazeofthemagun @lunar-mage-mare @xbloodsoakedx

Thank you for allowing me to use your characters for this drabble!

Final Word Count: 3,701 words

#a story of might and magic ;; [ drabbles ]#tw racism #racism cw #this is it y'all. this is the full drabble.

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stephobrien · 5 years

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Baby Pictures: How Endgame Should Have Ended (A canon-compatible fix fic)

This post and the fanfic within it contain MASSIVE spoilers for Avengers: Endgame, so if you’re avoiding those, please bookmark this post and come back after you’ve seen the movie.

I've been thinking about Endgame a lot over the past few days - in particular, I've been stewing over the fact that if Bruce Banner is as smart as I am (and he’s supposed to be SMARTER), it’s COMPLETELY canon-compatible for Tony and Natasha to come back.

So if you, like me, are still periodically crying over either or both of their deaths, I just wanna say...

...and I won’t even have to put a scratch on canon’s shiny, sadistic surface to do it.

Sadly, I can’t make either of them come back for future movies, but at least I can give you an imaginary world where Bruce does what he SHOULD have done in Endgame.

So without further ado, I give you:

Baby Pictures: How Endgame Should Have Ended

It wasn’t like Bruce to miss a funeral. Not if he could help it.

Especially not if the dearly departed were two of his closest friends.

And yet, as Tony’s memorial bobbed down the river, and Clint and Steve stepped forth with bouquets in memory of Natasha, the hulking scientist who’d loved them both was nowhere to be seen.

No one knew where he was. Most were too preoccupied to ask.

But Hope van Dyne was starting to suspect. She saw the look in her father’s eyes, and she alone knew his face well enough to detect the faint smile that was fighting to pierce his somber facade.

He knew something. Yesterday, when he vanished into his laboratory for several hours, he’d been doing something.

But when she caught his eye, the shake of his head was as eloquent as it was subtle. Not yet, Hope. You’ll find out soon.

-*-*-

Mournful music played softly in the background, channeled through wireless speakers connected to the laptop Tony had given Morgan for her fifth birthday.

Pepper had had to enable the device’s wireless network access; they’d deliberately disconnected it for the sake of its vulnerable user, and she’d have to do so again afterward. But Morgan had insisted that Daddy’s last present to her be part of his funeral, and Pepper wasn’t about to deny her.

The child’s lip was trembling now, her big eyes wet with a grief she was far too young to bear. Behind her, Happy’s hoarse voice whispered in a tone he probably thought she couldn’t hear, “It should’ve been me. I was his bodyguard; it should’ve been me.”

It couldn’t have been; the magic-wielding doctor who’d approached her and Tony on that fateful day five years ago had told her so after her husband’s death. He’d scoured every possibility, and only this one led to victory.

She’d wanted to scream at him, to tell him there HAD to be another way. But this was the man who’d bought them these precious last five years, who’d given away the Time Stone to save Tony’s life, because he knew that the man she loved was the key.

She had no right to be angry at him for not giving them more.

Though a burning, vice-tight throat, she’d told him not to blame himself. His answering “I know I shouldn’t” rang almost sincere, but his eyes had been heavy with the unspoken words: “but part of me still does.”

The music hit its mournful climax, ripping the breath from her aching chest, and for the sake of the child in her arms, she struggled to hold back a sob. Keep it together, Pepper, she silently demanded. Be strong for the daughter he left behind.

“ALL YOU WOMEN WHO WANT A MAN OF THE STREET!”

The sudden scream sent a jolt thundering through her body, and she and Happy instinctively leaned forward, closing protectively around Morgan as the startling music kept howling:

“BUT YOU DON'T KNOW WHICH WAY YOU WANT TO TURN

“JUST KEEP A COMING AND PUT YOUR HAND OUT TO ME

“'CAUSE I'M THE ONE WHO'S GONNA MAKE YOU BURN!”

The hissing roar of thrusters yanked her attention to the sky, and as two shapes plunged from the sky, Pepper’s eyes and mouth went wide.

This can’t be.

They struck the ground in unison: a huge green man with a platinum-blonde woman in his arms, and a red-and-gold mechanical shell that was too familiar to be real.

For a moment, Pepper’s world froze, hope and denial colliding with a force that brought everything else to a halt.

Then the armor shrank away, nanites returning to their case and revealing the man underneath.

Dark hair. Brown eyes, blinking owlishly in the light. A smile that was slightly disoriented, but happy and wide.

And below that, a quantum suit that matched the ones worn by the Hulk and-

“NATASHA?!”

It was only when Clint’s shout rang across the gathering that Pepper realized the music had been cut. The archer lunged toward the newcomers, stumbling to a halt as he stared at the woman who was disembarking Bruce’s arms.

“And… Tony?!”

“Yup, I’m here too. Thanks for noticing. So, this is what the future looks like!”

The future? For a moment, Pepper could only stare, her grief-clouded mind struggling to understand how this could be real.

And then it clicked.

The quantum suits. Bruce’s absence. The way Tony’s eyes had skimmed across Morgan like he didn’t even recognize her.

Bruce told me he couldn’t change the past. As long as the Infinity Stones exist, they keep the timeline in one coherent flow, so what’s happened always will have happened.

That’s why Gamora was able to come to the future without changing the past, even though she was sacrificed to the Soul Stone. Her, and Natasha, and Thanos, and…

“Tony?”

She’d meant for her voice to sound stronger. It wasn’t supposed to break, or to be drowned out by Morgan’s scream of “DADDY!”

But he was here, and smiling, and alive, and the way his eyes softened when he saw her was so damn familiar…

“Pepper.” His voice was quiet, and the nervous apology in his face did not belong there. “Baby, I’m sorry – I told you no more surprises, and then-”

“You idiot.” Her voice came out halfway between a laugh and a sob, and her feet finally dislodged from the ground to which they’d been frozen. Even as the child in her arms began to squirm, Pepper rushed into her husband’s waiting embrace, pressing herself and her daughter against his chest. “This is the best surprise I’ve ever had.”

“Well, I do aim to please. Though granted, I frequently miss.”

A few feet away, a small “Oof!” sounded as Clint scooped Natasha into a crushing hug, and Morgan grinned as she wrestled her arms out from between her parents so she could hug her father properly.

“I’m glad you’re back, Daddy.”

“I’m glad to be back,” he answered warmly. “Not that I remember being gone, time shenanigans being what they are. And you must be Morgan.”

“Must be?” Confusion swept across the child’s face, and Pepper’s stomach sank. “What do you mean? Don’t you remember me?”

“Uh…” The answering voice belonged to Bruce, who drew Morgan’s attention by gently settling his ponderous hand on her tiny shoulder. “I’m sorry, kid; I had to get a version of him from before the Infinity Stones were destroyed. If I took him after that, the Stones wouldn’t have been there to keep the timeline constant, and I could’ve caused a nasty alternate reality.”

“Yeah, I’m not the most recent model,” Tony piped up apologetically. “I’m a bit obsolete, and missing a few features – like my memories of the last five years – so I might need a bit of time to get updated.”

“We’ve got my baby photos,” Morgan offered. “And my videos, like the one you took on my fourth birthday, when I threw handfuls of cake and you blew them up with your suit.”

“Wow.” A small laugh burst from Tony, and his eyes danced. “You really must be my daughter. I can’t wait to get to know you again.”

A grin lit the child’s face, and Tony pressed his family tighter against him. “I am so sorry I left you like that,” he murmured into Pepper’s hair. “I can’t imagine what you must’ve been though, losing a guy like me…”

Part of her wanted to respond with a snippy, teasing remark, but that part was drowning in tears. “It was hell,” she managed, a pained smile fighting for position with a cringe at the awful memories.

No wife should see her husband’s body empty and burned.

No mother should have to tell her five-year-old that the father she “loves three thousand” is never coming home.

“I’m so sorry, honey.” His lips were soft against her hair, and his breath was warm and real. Alive. “I will do my very best to never leave you again. At least not until we’re a hundred, and wrinkly as the Grand Canyon.”

“At LEAST not until then.” At last, a laugh began to break through the lingering echo of pain. “That should’ve been in our wedding vows.”

“Our wedding… wow. Yet another thing I managed to miss. We should have another one. I hope it’s OK that I invited Wong.”

“He was there,” Pepper pointed out, glancing at the sorcerer, who responded with a respectful nod. “Dr. Strange wasn’t, though. And neither was Peter.”

From the shadow that passed through Tony’s eyes, she suspected Bruce had told him why. “Well, that is a crying shame,” he replied softly. “A wedding without my first choice of ring bearer. Hey, Morgan, do you wanna be the flower girl?”

“Yes!”

“You know,” a new voice slid into the conversation, and they turned to see Natasha sidling up to them. “Everyone’s here in their Sunday best – think we should make the most of it?”

Tony’s eyes jumped back to Pepper, an eager echo of Natasha’s question flashing in his eyes, and the tears were finally pushed aside by a full, genuine smile. “We absolutely should.”

“All right, then! Friday, amp up the speaker on this thing. HEY, EVERYONE!” Tony’s arm rose along with his voice, and the guests all stood a little taller.

“I’d like to announce that the funeral is OVER! Of course, it was already over for me about five minutes ago. The AFTER-funeral – also known as OUR WEDDING – begins in fifteen minutes!”

Fifteen minutes. This was all happening so fast. One minute she was mourning him, now the crowd was cheering for him and Natasha, and fifteen minutes from now she was going to marry him again.

“One hour!”

All eyes turned toward Rhodey, whose face was a contrast of smiles and tears. “If you give me one hour to run to the store, I’ll get you two a cake.”

The wife and groom-to-be exchanged a glance, and now it was Pepper’s turn to shout. “The wedding begins in one hour!”

“And in the meantime… hey, Peter!”

The boy had been hovering at the edge of the group, obviously dying to hug his mentor, but too polite to intrude on the family reunion. Now Tony beckoned him closer, and Bruce stepped back to make room as Spider-man rushed forward like a puppy who hadn’t seen his owner for two whole hours.

“Mr. Stark, I can’t believe you’re alive – I mean, this is so, SO awesome – we both saw each other die – I mean, you probably don’t remember seeing me die, and that’s not the part that’s awesome, but you were dead, and now you’re not-”

And there were still dark spots on the boy’s outfit where tears had yet to dry. Pepper saw them, and she knew Tony had noticed them, too. “C’mere.”

The resurrected hero spread his arms, and Peter’s eyes went wide. “Me?”

“No, the building behind you.” As Peter craned his neck to look, Tony’s eyes rolled fondly. “Yes, you. Oof!”

Now it was Tony’s turn to get squashed as spider-enhanced arms closed around him, mashing him into the desperate hug of a child who had almost lost his third father figure in a row. “I thought we were only ever gonna get to do this twice,” the boy choked, and one of Tony’s hands left his back to gently ruin the boy’s formal hairdo.

“I do have a way of waiting until it’s almost too late, don’t I?”

“No, no, I didn’t mean that-”

“I know you didn’t. But it’s true.” With a deep, shaky breath, Tony drew away, the glisten in his eyes whispering that his family’s grief and relief were starting to spread to him. “I almost lost you, didn’t I?” His gaze strayed to Pepper and Morgan. “All three of you.”

“We almost lost you,” Pepper responded, smiling through the tears that threatened to return.

“Well, I’d promise that won’t happen again, but you know how I am with promises. For now, I think it’s time to focus on what we can get back. We’ve got an hour before the wedding, and I’d like to spend it watching baby videos and getting reacquainted with my family.”

Peter took a step back, and Tony’s gaze followed him. “My WHOLE family.”

Fresh tears rose in the boy’s eyes, and his mentor smiled. “Wat’cha think, kid? Wanna come over and get to know your kinda-unofficially-adopted little sister-”

“BUT I WANTED TO BE THE BIG SISTER WHEN YOU HAD ANOTHER KID!”

“Wanna come get to know your kinda-unofficially-adopted big sister before I co-opt you as my ring bearer?”

A grin broke across Peter’s face like sunlight as he nodded, and Pepper felt herself echoing the expression alongside Tony and Morgan.

It was all so surreal, she wasn’t sure when her still-reeling mind would be able to fully accept it. Her hand settled on her husband’s shoulder, rubbing the plate of his quantum suit in a quest to convince herself that he was too solid to be an illusion, that the way he turned and smiled at her was as real as the fingers that rose to cover hers.

Her eyes strayed to Bruce, whose grin lit his face like the star on a big green Christmas tree, and she gently let Morgan out of her arms before stepping toward the giant. “Bruce,” she said quietly, her voice choked, “I can never thank you enough.”

“Hey, I owed it to him. And you. We all did.”

But still. Her hand closed around his arm, and she suddenly yanked him downward, brushing a grateful kiss on his startled cheek. Morgan gave a soft moan of “Ew!”, and Tony grinned mischievously at her before stepping toward his friend.

“I’m getting in on this.”

“Come on, Tony-”

Too late – Tony had already planted one on his other cheek, and Peter was silently backpedaling, clearly hoping to create enough distance that it wouldn’t seem impolite for him not to join in.

Pepper was tempted to corral him into it anyway, but they had less than an hour before the wedding, and time was running out.

Besides, Wanda was stepping forward, and Pepper’s heart twisted as she thought of the hard conversation Bruce was about to have.

Vision had depended on the Infinity Stone in his head. The stone couldn’t be removed from its place in the timeline, and neither could he.

Pepper had gotten her partner back, but Wanda – and far too many others – would not be so lucky.

Beside her, Tony was visibly withering, and she reached over to squeeze his hand. This time, when he turned toward her, his smile was small and pained. “We lost Vision, didn’t we?” he whispered.

Her eyes were burning again, and she forced herself to nod. Vision was Tony’s child, just as all his robots were, and he’d been the last remnant of Jarvis.

And now he was gone.

So many people and memories were gone.

But so many had come back, and she was determined to make the most of it, for whatever time they had left. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s go see some baby pictures.”

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