#and then when he looks between them at the desert he’s like: here Will. hug your love 😩 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dandylovesturtles · 7 days

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alright, here it is: part 3 of the still untitled Room Fic! and boy is it long... this might be as long as parts 1 and 2 put together.

Content warnings for this part: vomit, serious discussion of food issues, internalized ableism, everyone being a little bit dumb

I am not a doctor and my meal plan for Leo is extremely lightly researched (mainly because it's hard to find information that would be helpful in Leo's situation but that isn't highly technical). in the end I went with what I like from a narrative standpoint. if someone starves as long as Leo did please get them to an actual doctor lol.

also I got tired and didn't proofread the last few sections.

just a warning that I'm going on vacation next week and will be out of the country for awhile so don't expect any more for this for quite some time. in the meantime, hope you enjoy this!

and if you're confused, start here!

-----

Leo wakes up.

The room is moving. His head is cradled in someone's lap. There's a furry hand stroking his arm, and a voice hums the notes of a lullaby he hasn't heard since he was a child.

-----

Leo wakes up.

He's lying somewhere soft and blessedly warm. There's a weight across his chest. Someone is chattering in his ear, happy and upbeat, saying something to him about Jupiter Jim on the desert planet Delta-5.

-----

Leo wakes up.

He's still somewhere soft but now it's too hot. He whines and pushes at the things on his chest. Near his ear someone tuts, and then a hand lands on his, giving it a squeeze.

"Nardo, you need to warm up. Don't-"

-----

Leo wakes up, and his eyes open.

"Leo?" comes Raph's voice. Leo blinks to clear his vision, then lets his eyes trail up, to find his big brother bending over him. "You awake for real this time?"

He isn't sure. Raph being here sure feels like a dream.

He lowers his eyes and looks around. He's not home. He doesn't recognize this place at all, actually. But the walls are beige (still unstimulating, but at least not white), the furniture is dark brown, the bed (not a cot) has a blue bedspread, the empty takeout containers on the table have a splash of red. It's not home, but it's not the room, either.

If he were going to dream, surely he'd just picture himself back home.

He blinks back up at Raph, and smiles.

"Wide awake," he says, echoing Raph from before.

Raph bursts into tears, immediately leaning down and wrapping Leo up in one of his signature hugs. For the first time in so many days (longer, longer, Leo can't remember the last time he got a Raph hug like this), Leo feels completely secure, fully enveloped in love and affection, held safe by his big brother where no one can hurt him.

The difference between this moment and the last week and a half is so stark it leaves Leo feeling dizzy. Like he hadn't even realized how scared and lonely and helpless he truly felt until all that pain was taken away. He's safe now. He's okay now. Raph is hugging him.

Leo hates crying in front of people, but even he can't be stoic for this.

"Oh Leo," says Raph softly once he realizes. "It's okay. We got'cha."

Leo sniffs, burying his face in Raph's plastron. He wishes he could hug back, but his limbs feel so heavy, like Donnie swapped them out for metal versions when he wasn't looking. So he can't hug back, but he leans in close and hopes that's enough.

They get about a minute to hug before Mikey is worming his way in between them, wriggling to push his arms past Raph's and around Leo for himself. "No fair, you got to hold him earlier!" Mikey declares, his voice thick with tears.

"You got to hug him earlier," Raph argues.

"He was asleep, it doesn't count!" Mikey hits back, and Leo laughs and shifts so Mikey can better get in the middle. Raph sighs exaggeratedly, but he gives Leo a pat and leans back to let Mikey in.

Mikey hugs even tighter than Raph, nuzzling in against Leo's shoulder. "I missed you," he says, then gives a choked sob he tries to bury.

"Missed you too," Leo promises, craning his neck so he can land a big smooch on Mikey's head. That replaces the sobs with relieved giggles that leave Leo feeling so much lighter.

After another minute, Mikey moves back and looks over at Donnie, who's been standing at the side of the bed wringing his hands. "Your turn, Donald."

Donnie makes a grumpy noise at having been perceived, but when Leo gets a look at his face he sees Donnie has tears shimmering in his eyes, too. They break free once Donnie's arms are around him, trickling onto the skin of Leo's shoulder.

"Crying over me, Don-ton?" he teases, even as his own voice is thick with emotion.

"Shut up, Nardo," Donnie snaps back, but his voice cracks at the end and he holds on even tighter.

"Alright, my turn," says April once Donnie starts to loosen his grip, and Donnie obligingly crawls off the bed, swiping at his eyes. Like he's looking for something to busy himself with, he starts throwing away the takeout containers on the table. They must be empty.

Leo tears his eyes away just as April swoops in to wrap him up in his fourth hug of the hour, giving him a kiss on his forehead as she does. "Hey, Leo. How're you feelin'?"

"Happy to see you," he says again, and she squeezes him tighter. "Kinda hot."

"That's the hypothermia talking," says Donnie. April shushes him.

"Hypothermia?" Leo asks. April pulls back so she can see his face.

"It wasn't that bad," she says quickly. "You'd started brumating, we think... Tromping around in the snow didn't help, though."

"Not to mention you used up the last of your energy portaling us out of there," Mikey chimes in. "It was really cool though!"

Leo laughs. "Thanks, little brother." Even with the containers thrown away, the smell of the takeout is thick in the room. Leo guesses they had Japanese. It can't have been that long ago. "Where are we?"

"Motel room about two hours down the road." April slides to sit next to him, keeping one arm wrapped around his shoulders. Her body heat is warm in a more pleasant way than the blankets, and he leans into it. "We wanted to go further, but we needed to get you warmed up."

"A motel...? Huh." Leo looks around again. This is his first time being in a hotel that isn't owned by Big Mama. He wonders how far it is from the Japanese place. Just, like, average delivery time. "What happened? It's... kind of a blur for me." He laughs.

They launch into the story without any more prompting. It all sounds like what Leo expected. Raph led the team. Donnie did science stuff. Mikey razzed his tazz. April used her investigative skills.

They tracked him all the way down to Colorado (that explains the snow) and broke him out. They floored it away from the EPF, got far enough they felt safe, then booked into a motel under April's name. That's where they've been since. Splinter and Draxum are out now, patrolling to make sure they weren't followed or discovered.

It's quite the story. And Leo knows he should be paying more attention than he is.

It's just, the takeout boxes. The smell coming from them is so strong, or maybe Leo is just abnormally sensitive to it. He thinks someone had steak, and someone else had fish. The fried rice had egg in it. His mouth is watering so badly he has to swallow every few seconds.

"Leo?" calls Mikey, and Leo startles, ripping his eyes from the trash can to look at Mikey's face. He's gripping the bedspread so hard his knuckles are cramping. He realizes this is not the first time Mikey said his name. Great, now they know he wasn't paying attention.

"Ah, sorry," he says quickly. "I didn't mean to zone out." He flashes them all the biggest smile he can, so they don't worry. "I was just, uh..."

He trails off, not sure of a way to say that he was completely distracted by the smell of their already eaten Japanese food without making it awkward.

"Sorry, Leo, we know you're tired," says Raph, reaching over and rubbing his head. "You can go back to sleep. We're not leaving for awhile."

Go back to sleep? Leo doubts he can, what with the hunger an empty yawning hole inside him. It had been muted while the cold and the exhaustion took over, but now that he's warmer and more rested his body is very painfully reminding him he still has another problem.

He's trying to come up with a casual way to approach the subject when his stomach does it for him, gurgling and growling loud enough that everyone hears it. Leo is very glad his blushes don't show up as easily as humans' do.

"Uh... heh heh." He scratches at his own cheek, then stops when he feels how disturbingly hollowed out it is. "Before that... are there any leftovers?"

Everyone's staring at him. Leo's too tired to puzzle out why they're all staring at him. Maybe there really aren't any leftovers? He did just watch Donnie throw everything away. Maybe there were some, but now they'd have to fish it out of the trash. Leo wants to say he'd happily eat it out of the trash, but that would be really weird and they'd stare at him even more.

(But he would eat it out of the trash. He may be too proud to say it out loud, but he can admit it to himself.)

"O-or," he says quickly, to fill the silence after his last question, "if... if it's not too much trouble, can you ask Dad and Barry to bring something with them when they come back? Even if it's just something from a gas station, or..." They're still staring, and Leo feels himself starting to ramble desperately, "Or if it's too late, I can just... I can just go back to sleep, hah, but... but can someone at least wake me up so I don't miss breakfast?"

His family stutters back to life at that. Raph gives a furious shake of his head and says, "Forget breakfast," which makes Leo's heart and stomach lurch painfully. Waiting until lunch? That feels like forever away.

But then Raph continues with, "Leo, why didn't you tell us you're hungry right now?"

Leo falters. "Uh... just... didn't want to interrupt the flow of the conversation," he says, which is true, but the way everyone is looking at him now, he's pretty sure it's the wrong answer.

"Please," says April, tone very close to exasperated, "interrupt the conversation."

"Will do," says Leo. But he's still not sure what to do, because no one has told him when food is coming.

(You want this? You beg for it.)

Before he can spin out on that thought, Mikey jumps off the bed and heads for the mini-fridge that Leo hadn't noticed until now. He yanks open the door and pulls out two takeout containers, a box and a cylindrical container.

"We weren't sure what you felt up to, so we got you steak hibachi and miso soup," Mikey says, waving each container in turn.

The thought of having to actually chew and swallow sounds exhausting, so Leo says, "Soup's fine." And then, just in case, he adds hastily, "Please."

"Okay," says Mikey, and even though he's clearly trying to sound upbeat, Leo can hear the strain in his voice. "Just give me a minute to heat it up for you!"

Leo would eat it cold. Leo would eat it frozen. But he bites that back and waits.

Mikey puts it in the microwave on top of the fridge. Every little tick down on the timer feels like it takes three eternities. The rest of his family seems to feel the tension as much as he does.

"April!" says Donnie abruptly, too loud to be natural. "You wanted to see what's on the sci-fi channel!"

"Thaaat's right!" she says, also a little too loudly. "I did. Hand me the remote."

Donnie gives her the remote. She turns on the TV just as the microwave dings.

Mikey yanks the door open as soon as it does, pulling the bowl out with no regard for how hot it is. He gives it a perfunctory blow to cool it down, then hurries over to the bed, pausing only to grab a plastic spoon off a little pile of utensils on the table.

He hands both the bowl and spoon to Leo, but Leo already knows his arms won't be able to maneuver the spoon, so he lets it fall into his lap, in favor of lifting the entire container to his lips. He hopes he doesn't look too pathetically eager as he tilts it back and takes his first sip.

It's good.

It's so good he starts crying.

It's not even the best miso soup he's ever had. In fact, it's a little too oily and nowhere near as good as the kind his dad makes, or what Mikey is capable of. But it doesn't matter. It wouldn't matter if this was the worst soup in the world, because right now it's the best thing Leo has ever tasted.

He may be crying more over this than he did over hugs from his family. Maybe he'll have it in him to feel bad for that later.

The TV is showing some old monster movie. His siblings pretend they're watching that and not watching him. He appreciates that, because it makes him feel less self-conscious as he desperately slurps down the soup, practically guzzling it, only pausing when he has to chew the greens here and there.

He eats until his stomach is full and warm. And then he keeps going. There's still soup left, and stopping feels impossible.

(Besides, no one actually promised him breakfast.)

"Hey, maybe you should slow down," says Donnie. Leo pauses, looking up at him, licking the remains of soup off his lips. The container is still about a third full.

Maybe Donnie is right. His stomach is actually starting to cramp. But... but...

He doesn't know what his face looks like right now. But something about it makes Donnie look sad.

He turns away, rubbing right between his fake eyebrows. "Okay, okay. Just... don't overdo it."

Leo sighs, grateful the soup isn't being taken away. He goes back to drinking it, feeling like the chasm inside him is finally beginning to fill.

-----

The next time Leo wakes up, it's because he has to puke. Unfortunately, he doesn't have time to communicate that before it's all over himself and the bedsheets.

"Whoa, Leo-" someone says, and then there's a flurry of activity around him. He can't keep up with who goes where and who says what. It's a lot to keep track of when he just woke up and is spewing half-digested miso soup and stomach bile.

"There we go... You're alright, Blue, you're alright," he hears once he comes back to his senses, and he blinks and looks over. His dad is standing on the bed next to him, and he leans in with a damp washcloth and wipes at Leo's face and mouth.

"Perhaps the soup was too much for your stomach," Splinter says as he finishes, tossing the washcloth into the floor. "How do you feel?"

"Mm... weird," Leo admits, leaning sleepily into his dad's shoulder. He shouldn't because he's gross, but Splinter lets him do it, stroking his cheek. "My stomach hurts..."

The loss of the food hurts; without anything in his stomach, he'll feel hungry again soon. Leo is terrified of that, of the deep empty chasm of his hunger returning, sucking him down into its depths. At the same time, the idea of eating makes him feel queasy.

He feels weird, and miserable, and scared, and he doesn't know when his dad came back, but he's so glad he's here.

"How much did you let him eat?" he hears Draxum ask. Leo finds the energy to feel offended that he's being talked about like he isn't in the room, but not enough energy to actually say anything about it.

"As much as he wanted," Mikey answers. Which, as Leo recalls, was almost all of the soup.

"And how much was that?"

"Here, look."

There's the sound of the mini-fridge being opened again. The pop of the takeout lid. Draxum hums in a way that does not sound pleased.

"Leonardo," he says, coming to stand by the bed now. "I have a very important question and I need you to answer: when was the last time you ate?"

Leo stares at him blearily. Then he raises a tired hand and indicates the mess all down his front.

"Don't get cute," says Draxum, ignoring the following grunt of warning Splinter directs his way. "You know what I'm asking you."

Of course Leo knows. But he doesn't want to answer. Not while his dad is holding him, and all his siblings are watching him expectantly. They aren't going to like what he has to tell them. He doesn't want to upset them.

But Draxum is unmoved and steely eyed. There's no way Leo is getting out of this without answering.

He sighs, shutting his eyes and leaning into Splinter so he doesn't have to be looking at the rest of them when he says it.

"Last time I ate was at Run of the Mill."

He hears a gasp, hears Mikey yell, "What!?" Feels Splinter's sharp intake of breath under his cheek, and then his dad shifts so he can hold him even closer.

"They... they didn't feed you in there at all?" asks April, like she doesn't quite believe it.

Leo nods.

"I should have leveled the whole building!" Donnie snaps, and Leo hears something get knocked to the ground.

Mikey comes closer, and puts a hand on his shoulder, drawing Leo's gaze back his way. He looks so upset, and Leo regrets looking. "Leo, why didn't you tell us? You didn't even say you were hungry!"

"Felt weird to bring it up in the middle of the happy reunion," he says. It's a weak justification, he knows. The look on Mikey's face just gets more miserable.

"Wait," Raph cuts in. "Wait, so... when Bishop said he gave you chances to cooperate for better living conditions, he meant..."

Leo swallows hard, not wanting to look at the distress on Raph's face. "Feeding me, yeah."

"What did he want out of you? What was he making you do?"

This part, at least, Leo can answer easily. "He wanted information. About the yokai and the Hidden City."

Raph sounds surprised. "He just... wanted you to answer questions?"

"Yeah." Leo nods again. "Like, how to get in, how many portals there are, what kind of defense capabilities there are, stuff about Draxum... That's what I remember."

"Why didn't you just tell them?"

Now Leo does look at Raph's face. He's staring at Leo with open horror and distress. But Leo doesn't understand the question, or the look. He did what he was supposed to, didn't he? He held out and didn't give Bishop any information. He did the right thing. So Raph has no reason to look so upset.

He smiles in a way he hopes is reassuring. "Hey, that's not what a hero would do, right?"

It's apparently not reassuring. If anything, Raph only looks more horrified.

He turns away from Leo abruptly and marches straight out of the room, slamming the door on the way out.

Leo doesn't understand that reaction. He did what he was supposed to, but Raph is mad at him, anyway. The rest of his family seems shocked, too, so at least Leo isn't alone.

"I'll talk to him," says April, the first to move. She leaves with much less noise, disappearing into the dark parking lot beyond the door.

Awkward silence envelops the room after that. Leo doesn't know what to do or say to break it. He made Raph mad, because he never does anything right, according to Raph. It's the same as always, but for some reason Leo feels even worse this time.

"...Well," says Draxum, cutting through the awkwardness when it becomes clear no one else wants to, "knowing this, we will have to be much more careful about what and how much you eat. I'll make a meal plan."

"Why you?" Leo grouses. "Let Donnie do it."

Donnie opens his mouth like he wants to agree, but Draxum cuts him off before he can.

"Me, because I have actual experience designing nutritious meal plans for children." Leo thinks of what he's heard about Draxum's lunchroom and makes a face, which Draxum ignores. "Besides, I can't trust any of the rest of you to actually tell Leo he can't have more to eat."

"I can handle myself," Leo argues.

"Clearly," says Draxum icily, indicating the mess still in Leo's lap, "you cannot."

Leo doesn't have a good response for that, and no one steps up to his defense. Back not even twenty four hours, and he already has multiple people mad at him. That has to be a new record.

"...Whatever," he says, because he doesn't know what else to say. Draxum nods like he actually gave approval.

There's another round of awkward silence. Splinter breaks it this time.

"Why doesn't someone call housekeeping to ask for some fresh sheets," he says, "while I help Blue take a bath."

"Ugh, yes, I'm calling them now," says Donnie. Leo notes for the first time that his most persnickety brother is as far from his bed as possible, having put the second bed and the table between them. "The whole room is starting to smell."

Leo cringes. "Sorry..."

"There is nothing for you to apologize for," his dad reassures him, patting his head. Leo isn't sure he'd say that, but he doesn't waste breath arguing. "Now, come with me."

It takes some maneuvering, but they get him out of bed without making a bigger mess. Mikey starts stripping the sheets, and he can hear Donnie on the phone with the staff across the room.

Leo's still not wearing any of his gear. It shouldn't matter because he's just in a room with his family, but he still walks to the bathroom as quickly as he can.

Splinter shuts the door once they're inside, then fills a little plastic cup with water. This he hands off to Leo, saying, "Drink this, and I will run you a nice warm bath."

Leo does as he says, and tries not to think too much about how Raph is mad at him.

-----

There's an old concrete barrier that stands between the motel parking lot and an open field. Raph hefts a piece of the crumbling concrete and chucks it as hard as he can, watching as it disappears into the tall grass beyond.

They starved him. They starved his little brother for over a week, because he wouldn't answer some questions. And he wouldn't answer those questions because...

That's not what a hero would do.

Raph's ninpo flares to life. Punching out another piece of the barrier is easy; he lifts the broken pieces and throws them after the first, watching them sail through the air.

"You better hope there aren't any security cameras out here," says a voice behind him, and he looks over his shoulder.

April is there, standing a few feet back, hands tucked in the pockets of her jacket. Raph's ninpo stutters out at the sight of her; he wonders if he looked scary.

"...What are they gonna do even if there are?" he asks. But he does stop his wanton destruction.

"I don't know, but just remember it's my credit card on file for damages." Her voice is teasing, though, and he knows she isn't actually mad. She comes over, turning so she can lean against part of the barrier that's still intact. "Come on, Big Red. Talk to me."

Raph doesn't turn around. He can't stand to look back at the motel, at the room where his brother is, tiny and weak and with a stomach that's been empty for days on end. He can't handle it right now. So he keeps his eyes on the field.

"Leo let those guys hurt him," he says.

"No he didn't," says April. "He can't help what they did to him."

"If he'd just answered their questions, they would have fed him."

"We can't know that." April shakes her head. "You heard what Draxum said about those guys. You saw what they were like. Maybe if Leo had answered their questions, they would have just killed him. Leo was probably thinking that, too."

"But that's not what he said," Raph points out.

"...Look." April takes a deep breath. "Leo... just went through a lot. We don't know what he was thinking while he was in there, or what he's thinking now. And you know that boy likes to say flashy things. Don't take anything he says right now too seriously."

"But what if this is the most truthful he's gonna be? What if he just hasn't thought of a good lie yet?"

"Raph-"

"No, you don't get it, April." Raph holds his head in his hands, like he can physically hold the dark thoughts at bay, but he can't, and they keep coming: horrific images of what could have happened, if they'd been too late, if the EPF had been less patient. "I told him to stop thinking of himself! Right before he disappeared, I told him he needed to be a hero! But Raph didn't mean like this!"

"Hey now, you don't know-" April tries, but Raph cuts her off.

"I just wanted him to stop doing everything himself! All the showboating, all the running in without talkin' to us... Raph just wanted him to remember that we're a team!" He lets go of his head and grips the concrete instead, so hard it cracks and crumbles under his fingers. "What if he took that to mean he should risk his life for everyone else? That he had to sacrifice himself?"

"Oookay, slow down there, big guy," says April, turning around and putting a hand on his arm. "You're taking one thing he said and blowing it way out of proportion."

"But what if I'm right?" Raph shakes his head. "How do I live with that, if I am? Knowing I almost killed him?"

"Okay, you look at me right now," she demands, in a way Raph can't refuse. He turns, and she reaches up and grabs his face by the cheeks, yanking him down until he bends to her eye level.

"You did not almost kill him. That was those EPF guys." Her voice is stern, and her grip on his face prevents him from objecting. "And even if you are right, and it's what you said to Leo that kept him from answering... well, then that's something the two of you will have to work out together."

She lets him go, putting her hands on her hips. "But what's done is done. Right now, Leo is exhausted and starved, and he's not really in a state for big emotional talks. So let's just get some space and get your head on straight. Once we get him home and everything's calmed down, the two of you can hash this out."

Raph lets out a strangled laugh, slumping down against the crumbling barrier. "Yeah, because that's so easy."

"I'm not saying it's easy." She sits down next to him, putting her hand on his arm. "But you guys love each other, so you'll do the hard things you have to do. I know you got this." She gives him a wink. "You're Raph."

Raph isn't sure he has that much faith in himself. But April isn't wrong very often, so he thinks he should probably listen to her.

-----

The water feels nice on Leo's skin, pleasantly warm and soothing. He sinks down until all but his eyes are in the water, letting it swirl around him.

He still feels a little exposed, but it's only Splinter in here, and that helps. It's like he's a little kid again, getting a bath from his dad, but he has to scrunch to cram his legs in the tub and that ruins the illusion.

"My Baby Blue always did enjoy a nice bath," says Splinter fondly, rustling up hotel soap for them to use.

He wets a washcloth and lathers it up, then cleans off the top of Leo's head and back of his neck, then down to his shoulders and the ridge of his shell. Leo would normally protest this kind of treatment, but right now he's not sure he can lift his arms above his head, so he doesn't.

Besides, it feels nice.

"Float on your front," Splinter says, adding, "Deep breath." It's what he always said when they were kids and he wanted to wash their shells. Everyone but Mikey can hold their breath for a long time, but he always says it anyway.

Leo takes a deep breath and flips onto his front, closing his eyes as his dad washes the back of his shell. It's so soothing he could almost take a nap here. The world is nicely muted under the water.

Splinter gives his shell three pats with his hand, the signal to sit back up. Leo does, rolling onto his back to rinse off. Splinter hands him the washcloth and soap, and he cleans his lower half, taking care around the bottom ridges of his shell.

"Thanks for the bath, Daddio," he says as he finishes. "I know I was starting to get pretty ripe." He pulls up the drain plug with a pop, watching the dirty water spin away.

He tries to imagine he's watching the last of that place drain away with it.

Splinter retrieves a fluffy white towel, drying off the top of Leo's head before handing it off. "I wasn't thinking of that," he says. "But I know a good bath always made you feel better when you were sick."

It was never really about the bath, but the undivided dad attention. How Splinter would wash his shell and pat his head and dry him off, just like he's doing now.

It occurs to Leo that he almost lost this forever, and its like his breath is taken away. He buries his face in the towel and tries to ride through it - he doesn't want to cry again.

Splinter must pick up on it, because suddenly he's sitting on the side of the tub, rubbing the top of Leo's shell. "It's okay, Blue. You're safe."

He's safe.

He really is safe, isn't he?

He lowers the towel and turns into his dad instead, wriggling his head into his lap. Splinter welcomes him, patting his head with one hand and the top of his shell with another. Leo's breath hitches and the tears break free.

"I know," says Splinter, and his voice is thick with emotion. Leo knows he can't look or he'll start sobbing. "I... was very scared for you, my son. I am so glad you're here, Leonardo. I love you very much."

"L-love you too," he warbles. His tears are falling fast, now, and Splinter takes the towel and dries them away every now and then.

By the time Leo sits up and rubs at his eyes, the towel is totally soaked through from being in the tub. Splinter moves away to grab him a fresh one, which Leo wraps himself up in.

"Leonardo," says Splinter hesitantly once he is out of the tub, "I know you may not want to talk about it right now. But I need to ask you this."

Leo wonders where this is going. He sits down on the toilet lid, looking at his dad. "Uh, okay."

Splinter looks him up and down before asking, "Did those men... hit you? Or touch you in any way?"

Oh. Leo shakes his head. "No. They didn't... I mean, they just put me in that room. They weren't, like... torturing me or anything."

He thought that would reassure his dad, but if anything Splinter only looks more sad.

"Not feeding you is torturing you," he says.

"Oh, well, yeah, I guess." Leo rubs the back of his head. "But I mean, they weren't... you know. Shocking me or whipping me or... putting me in that medieval stretchy thing from the movies."

"I see." His dad sighs, but nods. "Very well. I'm glad, at least, that you do not have any injuries."

Leo nods back. "Yeah, no, I'm all good." He tries to smile, but his smiles aren't really having the effect they usually do.

"Are you ready to go back?" asks Splinter, moving to the door. Leo nods again, standing up. "Are you still cold?"

Leo blinks in surprise, then realizes Splinter is referring to the towel he still has wrapped around himself. He's not really that cold anymore, but he grabs onto the convenient excuse, anyway.

"Uh, yeah." He grins sheepishly. "Actually, did you guys bring any of my clothes? I'm a little worried about the ride home."

"Ah." Splinter taps his chin. "I don't think we brought any of your things. Your brothers brought their hoodies, I believe, in case they needed to go in a store..." He reaches up and pats Leo's hand. "There is a gift shop in the motel lobby. I will send Purple and Orange in the morning - I'm sure they'd enjoy doing some shopping!"

"Thanks. I just need a sweatshirt or something. Maybe some pajama pants." He shrugs. "Gotta stay toasty, right?"

"That's right. No more turtle-cicles." Splinter reaches up and turns the doorknob, gesturing for Leo to lead the way.

Leo shuffles for the bed, keeping the towel tight around himself as he goes. He doesn't drop it until he's under the sheets again, safely tucked away.

Raph isn't back yet. The realization turns Leo's stomach. But Mikey barrels into bed next to him, cuddling up against one side, while Donnie scoots in on the other, tapping away at his phone, and Leo tries to forget about it.

He's sure that, as soon as he's better, Raph will be back to yell at him.

-----

Leo doesn't realize Draxum left until he comes back. He did doze off for a bit there, though, so it's not surprising.

Mikey was snoozing against Leo's arm, too, but when the door clicks shut he raises his head, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Donnie looks up from his phone. Splinter's asleep in the other bed, only grumbling incoherently at the noise before rolling over.

(Raph and April still haven't come back. It makes Leo's heart thud a little harder.)

"Hey Barry," says Mikey, voice still a little sleepy. He pushes himself up to sit against the pillows. "Find what you were looking for?"

"Yes." Draxum walks over to the bed, pulling a bottle out of a pharmacy bag. He twists the cap loose, then holds it out and says, "Leonardo, drink this."

Leo can't help the way his face screws up as he takes it, eyeing the label on the bottle. "Eugh. What is this?"

"Vegetable juice," Draxum informs him dryly.

"Gross." Leo does not bring the bottle any closer to his lips. "Can I have soda instead?"

"Absolutely not." Draxum's voice is stern. "No sugar or caffeine until I say otherwise."

The next several days are looking worse and worse. Leo grimaces. "Can I just drink water, then?"

"You can and should drink water. But you also need to steadily reintroduce your body to nutrients. The vegetable juice will help, until your stomach can handle more solid food at a time."

Leo groans, eyeing the bottle warily. Anything labeled "juice" should not be this color of red-orange.

"Draxum's just trying to help, Leo!" Mikey chimes in. "Besides, vegetable juice isn't that bad."

It's not the most reassuring endorsement, given that Mikey loves vegetables in a way Leo has never understood. But with his little brother cheering him on, he can't back down.

"Fine. Down the hatch," he mutters, then takes a swig. It tastes just as off-putting as he was imagining, and he shudders and smacks his lips. "Yuck."

"Sorry, Leo." Mikey pats his arm comfortingly. "As soon as Barry says it's okay, we'll get pizza!"

"Please don't remind me of pizza right now..."

"Here." Leo looks up to find Draxum is holding out a handful of crackers. "Eat these, too. Be sure you chew them thoroughly before you swallow. And keep drinking the juice."

Leo takes the crackers in his free hand, putting them in his lap on top of the sheets. There's only six, and they look boring even for crackers. but his stomach perks up with interest, reminding Leo that everything he put in it before got thrown up.

Leo thought he was going to be waiting until breakfast to eat again. The crackers ease that tension, relief he hadn't consciously realized he needed.

Still, can't let Draxum think Leo actually appreciates all his bullying, so Leo still makes a face as he holds up one of the crackers and examines it.

"And these are...?"

"Are you going to react like this to everything?" asks Draxum with a scoff. "They're whole wheat crackers. They'll settle your stomach, and you need food in you so can take these vitamins."

He pulls a bottle out of his bag and shakes it, filling the room with the sound of pills rattling around. Leo scrunches up his snout.

"You didn't get me the chewable kind? Or those fruit gummy ones?"

"Are you such a child you need your medicine in the form of candy?" Draxum rolls his eyes. "You will be just fine with the pills."

"Okay, okay!" Leo groans theatrically, leaning his head back. "I can't believe you guys are letting him take care of him. He'll be feeding me bugs and leaves next."

"Stop whining. No one wants to hear it this late."

"I actually like these crackers," says Donnie. "They're delightfully bland."

This statement is followed by a crunch.

The sound sends a shiver up Leo's shell, and he turns his head in time to see Donnie, one of Leo's crackers in his hand, a big bite taken out of it. He chews and swallows with a slight smile on his face, clearly unconcerned that he just took one of Leo's crackers.

Leo only had six crackers to start. Now there's five. He doesn't know when he gets any more. No one promised him breakfast. And now he only has five crackers, and not six. And he can feel the hunger coming back.

Donnie turns his head and they lock eyes. Leo has no idea what his own expression looks like, but Donnie's turns startled and then almost frightened. He's so shocked he drops the rest of the cracker into his own lap.

Leo just barely stops himself from snatching it back.

Because that would be weird. What he's doing right now is weird. Everyone is staring at him, the room has gone silent, he's acting like Donnie just committed an unforgivable sin when all he did was take a cracker, like the two of them haven't been casually taking each other's food their entire lives.

He's being weird. He needs to stop. He needs to go back to normal right now.

Five crackers can be enough. It's enough it's enough it's-

Leo forces his brain to restart, his face and posture to relax, his fingers to unclench. He schools his mouth into an unserious grin, glancing back at Draxum. "H-hey, so... how many crackers do I need to eat? Since Thief-atello just stole one."

"I'm sorry," Donnie blurts out, an extremely rare apology. "I wasn't thinking."

Leo waves a hand. "It's cool, man," he says.

"No," Donnie insists. "I shouldn't have done that, I don't know why I did that-"

Great, first he pisses off Raph and now Donnie's freaked out. Leo's family came all the way to Colorado to save him and all he's done since then is upset them.

"Dee," says Leo, and he knocks one shoulder against Donnie's. "Seriously. It's fine."

Because it is. They take food from each other all the time. Leo's the one who made it weird, not Donnie, even if he did take one of Leo's crackers.

Donnie looks at him, uncertain. He still hasn't touched the remaining cracker in his lap. Leo wishes he would finish eating it now, so it isn't tempting him.

"...Still. I won't do it again," says Donnie finally, looking down at his lap and wringing his hands. He looks miserable, and Leo hates that he caused this.

Before he can do or say anything more, Draxum gets Leo's attention by holding out a new cracker. "Here," he says, waiting until Leo takes it, before handing a few to the still shell-shocked Donnie. "Both of you can have crackers. Now don't squabble, you'll disturb the neighbors."

Donnie puts the crackers in his lap and doesn't touch them again. The air in the room is stifling. And Leo wants to eat his own crackers, but now it feels awkward.

"I think you should steal one of his to get him back," says Mikey in an exaggerated whisper, a gallant attempt to dispel the tension. It doesn't quite work, but it breaks the silence enough for Leo to force out a chuckle and pick up a cracker.

"Everyone eat what you've been given and settle down," says Draxum, going to sit on the other bed. Splinter mumbles in his sleep again and rolls over. Everyone relaxes a little more.

Leo bites into the cracker. It tastes like all of nothing, but it has a pleasant crunch between his teeth, and he finds that he likes it.

Next to him, Donnie hesitantly finishes off his own half-finished cracker. Then he half-heartedly eats the others. Leo drinks his vegetable juice, then swallows the pill Draxum gives him.

Mikey does his best to fill the room with happy chatter, and the mood lightens, little by little.

Everything's okay. He just can't do that again.

-----

Everyone but Draxum is asleep when Raph and April come back into the room, just a little before dawn. Splinter is splayed out across the bed closest to the door, while all three of his little brothers are curled around each other in the bed by the bathroom.

Raph and April spent a long time sitting by the barrier, talking intermittently between long spells of silence. Then they moved to the tank, taking a nap together on the bench seats.

April has her travel pillow and blanket now, and she takes both and spreads out at the foot of his brothers’ bed, wisely putting her head by Donnie, who sleeps still as the dead, and not Mikey, who has already moved several times since they walked in. She yawns and then conks out almost immediately, glasses held loosely in her hand against her chest.

Raph wishes he didn’t feel quite so wide awake.

Draxum is sitting in one of the chairs by the table, phone in hand. He has a notebook open and scribbles into it with a pen. Raph comes over and takes a peek: it’s all notes about nutrition, the vitamins that are most critically needed after a long term starvation event.

Draxum’s helping Leo. That makes Raph feel better, and he sinks into the other chair, leaning his head back.

“You should try to get some sleep,” says Draxum, voice low. “We’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

“Raph’s good,” he says, staying where he is.

He feels Draxum’s eyes on him, for a moment. “I’m taking watch. Go to sleep, Raphael.”

Raph hesitates, then gets up from the chair and goes to lay down next to his dad. Splinter grumbles in his sleep, but rolls over like he knows to make room for a son crawling into his bed.

From here Raph can see Leo’s face. It’s gaunt and washed out, and even with all the sleeping he’s done there are still dark circles under his eyes. He looks so fragile, and the anger burns in his chest again, that anyone could hurt him like this.

He’s safe now, though. Mikey has an arm curled around his plastron, and Donnie flanks his other side like a guard. He’s able to rest, and eat, and get better.

Raph remembers what April said. Give Leo time to heal, then talk about what happened in there. He can do that. He can be patient.

He hadn’t thought he would be able to sleep, but lying still, with his sleeping family all around him, safe and sound, puts him under in minutes.

-----

"Morning, Leo!"

Leo blinks awake, taking in his surroundings. The walls are beige, the bed is blue, there's a TV playing the morning news on low volume, there's sunlight shining through the window.

He can smell food.

"It's breakfast time!" says Mikey. He's standing next to the bed, holding a tray. Leo wriggles until he's sitting up against the pillows, grinning as he pats his lap.

"Thanks, Mikey."

"You're welcome!" Mikey gives Leo a thousand watt smile as he sets the tray down.

Leo wishes he could feel as enthusiastic as his little brother as he gets a look at his breakfast. There's a large cup of white yogurt, and a little plate of scrambled eggs that don't even look like they have pepper on them. He's glad he has food, he just wishes it was something more exciting.

He lifts his eyes and takes a look around the room. Donnie is in one of the chairs by the table, tapping away on his phone. April is in the other chair, and she smiles and gives him a little wave when he meets her eyes. His dad is in the other bed, munching on what looks like a muffin and watching the news. He doesn't see Raph, but he hears the shower running.

Draxum is standing by the doorway, watching Leo. When their gazes meet, he sighs, rubbing the furrow on his forehead.

"Are you going to ask me what you're eating again?"

"Yes!" Leo points at the cup of yogurt. "What is this!? It's not even fruit flavored!"

"It's Greek yogurt. You can have fruit when your stomach is more settled."

"Ugh..." Leo sighs, grabbing the plastic spoon off his tray and scooping up a tiny bite of yogurt. It's not terrible, but without any fruit it's not very exciting.

"Hey, look at the bright side," says Mikey, holding out a plastic cup. "You get apple juice this morning! Since it had no sugar added, Draxum said it's okay!"

Leo musters up a smile. "Well, it's better than vegetable juice..."

"Don't get too excited," says Draxum dryly. "You'll be drinking more on the drive home."

"You're such a buzzkill, Drax," Leo huffs, taking a bite of his eggs now. They're unseasoned, but they're something. And there's the part of him that is just happy to have any food, simmering under the surface and demanding he eat faster. To keep himself from cramming the whole of the plate in his mouth at once, he turns to Mikey. "Hey, sneak me a muffin. Blueberry or chocolate chip."

Mikey grimaces. "I don't think Barry wants me to do that..."

Leo pouts, chewing his eggs slowly. "Who are you going to listen to, him or me?"

"He'll listen to me," says Draxum sternly. "If you're still hungry after that, you can have some more crackers."

Leo sighs, but part of him feels better knowing the crackers are still on the table. He crams more eggs in his mouth and chews as sulkily as possible.

There's an Old Navy ad playing on TV. Splinter sits up straighter in bed when he sees it, getting muffin crumbs everywhere. "Ah, that reminds me! Blue wanted some warm clothes to wear on the ride home." Splinter reaches out and pats Mikey on the arm. "Orange, Purple - why don't the two of you go to the gift shop and do some shopping? You can get a souvenir for yourselves as well."

"Oooh, yes!" Mikey bounces excitedly in place. "Dibs on picking out Leo's clothes!"

"Gasp!" Donnie stands up, pointing at him dramatically. "You know I'm the fashionable one in this family! Leo, tell him you want me to pick out your clothes for our return trip!"

"Mmm, I dunno..." Leo grins up at his little brother, giving him a wink. "I think Angelo's got this."

Donnie makes a noise of utter betrayal while Mikey cheers and stoops to give Leo a hug. "I won't let you down, Leon!" he promises, giving Leo a big smooch on the top of his head.

"I know you won't."

"Fine then! I'll just have to make you all jealous with my own selections." Donnie looks down. "April, do you want to join us?"

"Yeah, sure." April stands up, stretching her arms above her head. "Maybe I'll get a keychain or something."

The three of them file out of the room, Donnie and Mikey still arguing animatedly. Draxum takes one of the abandoned chairs, and Splinter goes back to watching the news.

Leo continues eating his bland breakfast, and tries not to spend too much time wondering when his next meal will be. At least he's been promised crackers.

-----

Raph comes out of the bathroom about ten minutes later, just as Leo's finishing up his breakfast with a few crackers. He nearly jumps when their eyes meet.

"Oh, hey, Leo," he says, voice a forced cheerful. "You're awake! That's great!"

"Yeah," says Leo back, trying not to sound too awkward and failing. He holds up his empty cup. "Just finished breakfast."

"O-oh, yeah. Was it... good?"

Leo grimaces. "Not really."

"Oh." Raph hovers in the doorway, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Leo wonders if he should apologize, but he still doesn't know what he's apologizing for, so he doesn't.

He'd know if Raph would just go ahead and yell at him, but Raph doesn't seem eager to start. Maybe he doesn't think Leo is healed up enough yet, or maybe he doesn't want to do it in front of Splinter. Either way, no yelling seems forthcoming.

Instead, Raph says, "Uh, where's everyone else?"

"Shopping for clothes for Blue and for souvenirs for themselves," Splinter answers.

"Oh, cool. Maybe... maybe I'll go join 'em!"

Raph pats Leo on the head as he goes by, then leaves the room like it's on fire. Leo is silent; he has no idea what to say or do.

He's out of food now, too. He's already asked Draxum for crackers once, and he's not sure if asking again will actually gain him anything. And with Mikey gone, he feels too anxious to try.

He settles back on his pillows and turns his eyes to the TV, lifting the plastic spoon in his hands. He slots the handle between his teeth and chews, relaxing at the feel of it. It's sturdier than the water bottles, so he can't flatten it down as easily, but the way he can munch on it endlessly has its own appeal.

The news drones on. His dad laughs at something the anchors say. Draxum scribbles away at a notebook. And Leo leans back on his pillows and chews on the spoon.

On the ticker at the bottom of the screen, he notices the tail end of a news item about a training accident at a military facility in Colorado Springs - one injured.

-----

The outfit Mikey has picked out is a sky blue hoodie with "PIKE'S PEAK" in big block letters and darker blue plaid sweatpants. They meet Leo's standards for softness and comfiness, if not quite his standards for style. It's fine, because he's after the former right now.

"Did I do good?" Mikey asks, bouncing on his toes.

"You did great," Leo responds, motioning him closer so he can rub his head affectionately. It lacks his usual punch, but Mikey laughs and wiggles away anyway.

"We also got," Mikey rummages around in the gift store bag, then pulls out, "matching fuzzy socks!"

The socks are in their signature colors and have snowboarders on them, and each set has a terrible pun like, "SNOW RULES!" and "COOLER THAN COOL!" Leo loves them immediately.

"I think this is the best gift you've ever gotten me," says Leo sincerely. Mikey beams and comes in for a hug that Leo gladly returns.

"Here, put 'em on!" says Mikey after he backs away, nodding at the hoodie and pants on the bed. "You don't want to be cold, right?"

"Right," says Leo, lifting the hoodie in his arms. A quick glance around the room shows that they're all looking at him now - Mikey, Donnie, and April by the bed, Splinter from the other bed, Draxum at the table, Raph hovering in the doorway. Waiting for him to put the clothes on.

He wishes they wouldn't.

It's weird. He's never felt self-conscious like this. He and his brothers have never really practiced modesty the way humans do, especially around each other. And yet the idea of standing in front of them now with no clothes, not even his mask, makes him feel strangely queasy.

He tries to tell himself it's because of how he looks now. Stick thin arms and legs, weird, unhealthy skin tone, dark circles under his eyes that a few hours of unconsciousness and one night of intermittent sleep have definitely not erased. That it's just his normal vanity.

But he can still feel it: that guard's eyes on him, any time he left the safety of his hiding spot under his cot.

He pulls the hoodie on over his head while he's still in bed. Then he crawls out of bed and pulls the pants on as fast as he can.

He looks around to see if anyone noticed, but their expressions haven't changed. Mikey gives him a thumbs up.

He relaxes. With the clothes on, the feeling of being exposed finally ebbs away. And it is warmer like this, which is a plus.

It's okay. In a day or two, he'll be over this weird self-consciousness and back to normal, and no one has to know about it.

"Well, how do I look?" he asks, grinning and turning in a circle. Mikey and April clap indulgently for him.

"Lookin' good, Leo," says April, and he gives her a wink.

"Well, even though you chose to forego my aesthetic sensibilities, I got you something, too," says Donnie, pushing his way forward. He holds out a pair of flipflops, which say "We're in" and "CO" on the toes and have cartoon giraffes on the heels. Leo can't help but grin when he sees them. "Trust me, you'll want these if we have to go into any gas station restrooms. Shudder."

Leo laughs, then reaches out an arm to pull Donnie into a hug before he can escape. To his surprise, Donnie doesn't even put up a token fight against it, hugging him back more fiercely than usual.

"Thanks, I love them," he says into Donnie's ear.

"Of course you do," says Donnie smugly, but his eyes are suspiciously shiny when he breaks the hug. Nothing feels awkward between them now, even given the cracker incident earlier, and Leo is glad.

“Okay!” says April, clapping her hands. “Checkout’s in thirty minutes - if you have anything else to do, do it now.”

“Wait,” says Leo, looking around. “Where’s my mask?” It’d be nice for hiding the dark circles.

“Oh, I think Raph grabbed it,” says April, but when she turns, Raph is gone. April presses her fingers to her forehead and sighs. “Okay, you can get it later.”

Leo’s mouth suddenly feels dry. He reaches around and grabs a bottle of vegetable juice Draxum gave him, draining the last of it.

“Checkout in twenty eight minutes,” says Donnie to cut the awkwardness. “Let’s go, people!”

Leo sits on the bed and watches his family prepare to leave, gnawing on the top of his juice bottle.

-----

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” calls a voice, and Leo blinks awake to see April standing over his cot. No, not the cot - this is the bench seat in the tank. If he’s going to be sleeping so much, he needs to stop waking up confused.

And he has been sleeping a lot. The only time they woke him up was to eat another snack of crackers with a little bit of mushed up banana, like he’s some kind of baby.

The banana did help break up the monotony, though.

Leo can’t help but hope he’s being woken up for food again.

Like she read his mind, April grins and holds out a hand to help him up. “Lunch time!” she announces.

“Oh boy,” says Leo, taking the hand and slowly getting to his feet. He’s stiff from lying in the tank for so long, and he stretches and pops his arms. “More flavorless mush.”

“Maybe we can convince Drax to give you a little salt this time,” says April with a snicker. She waits for him to slip the flipflops on, then leads him out of the tank.

It occurs to him that this is the first time he’s really been out in the sun in over a week, excluding times he’s been unconscious and the short walk from the motel room to the tank. He takes a minute to just lean his face back and feel the warmth of it on his skin. It hasn’t even been that long, and he’s used to life underground, but somehow it feels different this time, foreign and new and sweet.

When he looks back at April, she’s tearing up again. She quickly wipes at the bottoms of her eyes and pulls on a smile, linking her arm around his.

“Come on. We can grab a picnic table and sit outside.”

It's then that Leo actually takes in where they are: a big travel center, or that's what the sign on the building declare. The tank is parked at the gas pumps, and Donnie, with his hood up, is excitedly talking about it to some interested truckers who have come over. He spots Mikey over at the grassy space for dog walking, laughing while a puppy licks his face, a seemingly annoyed Draxum standing off to the side with his arms folded. He doesn't see Raph or Splinter, but April fills him in as they cross the parking lot.

"Raph and Splints are inside ordering food. They have a whole diner in there!"

"Let me guess: I'm eating soup."

"I think it's potato."

"Well, at least it's not more tomato." Leo makes a face. "If I have to drink any more vegetable juice I'm going to turn red and swell up into a ball."

"You know what pizza sauce is made out of, right?" she asks, playfully bumping into him.

"Actually, I don't," he says smoothly, bumping into her back. They fake tussle outside the door for a moment, until both of them are laughing.

Someone trying to get past clears their throat loudly, and April and Leo shoot them an apologetic look before going on inside. Leo visits the restroom and tries not to look too long at the arrays of snacks on offer. April goes to help Raph and his dad with the food.

They all end up back outside at a large picnic table. His family has a mix of foods: burgers, hot dogs, salads, chicken strips. He knows there was pizza inside, and it touches him that no one picked it.

Next to everyone else's large, full plates, his own bowl of soup feels ridiculously small and sad. But he doubts any amount of pouting will convince Draxum to let him have a burger, so he digs in. At least this has some flavor.

Lunch is nice, even if Raph is still acting weird and distant. It’s just good being in the sun and the fresh air. Leo is reluctant to leave as they finish up.

“Come with me!” says Mikey as the others go to throw their trash away and buy anything they need for the return trip. He holds out his hand, and Leo takes it and follows Mikey back toward the grassy area at the edge of the parking lot. They make sure there are no dog droppings, then lay down in the grass, looking up at the blue sky and the clouds going overhead.

“I thought it’d be nice to get a little more sun before we have to get back in the tank,” says Mikey, limbs splayed out in every direction. He’s taken off his hoodie - no one at the travel center has paid much attention to the peeks of green skin they’ve been showing off, and no one is nearby right now, anyway.

It is a little hot. But the idea of being shirtless where a stranger can see him keeps Leo fully swaddled.

He pushes that thought aside, closing his eyes and just trying to enjoy the feeling of the sun on his skin, the breeze blowing by, the grass under his fingers. He doesn’t get to touch a lot of grass in the city, but it reminds him of times they would sneak out to Central Park.

“This is really nice, Angelo,” he says. “Thanks.”

“Mmhmmm.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, just laying there, with only the ambient sounds of the travel center keeping them company. Leo starts to feel like he might doze off again.

“…Hey Leo?”

Leo blinks his eyes open, craning his neck to see Mikey. “Yeah?”

“Are you… okay?”

Ah. Maybe he should have expected this.

“Of course I’m okay,” he says, voice nonchalant. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Uh, well…” Mikey hesitantly trails off, clearly trying to decide what he wants to say.

Leo takes care of it for him. “It’s over, Mikey. You guys saved me. I’m okay.” He turns his head and grins. “And once Draxum stops being the food police, everything will be back to normal.”

“Mmm…” Mikey doesn’t sound as convinced as he should. Man, Leo’s smiles are really failing him lately. “But… if something’s bothering you… You’ll tell us, right?”

Leo pats his head. “Of course I will.”

If it’s worth bringing up to them, anyway.

Mikey’s eyes rove his face for a moment, but in the end he must be satisfied, because he smiles and rolls to toss his arm over Leo’s chest. “Okay. But I’ll hold you to that.”

“Or what, I’ll get a visit from the doctor?”

“You know it!”

Leo laughs, which gets Mikey laughing. They stay there until Raph calls their names across the parking lot, and they go back to the tank.

-----

He manages to stay awake after they stop for lunch, curled up on the bench seat. He doesn’t have the energy to talk as much as normal, but he leans against Donnie and contributes where he can. He’s just happy to be back with them, hearing and seeing them all around him.

But there’s something always at the back of his mind keeping him from fully relaxing: he doesn’t know when he gets to eat next. And he knows it will be okay - he’s with his family, and they’d never let him go hungry. He knows that, but about two and a half hours after lunch, he keeps finding himself returning to the same thought.

He’s drinking on a sugar-free Gatorade they got him at the travel center; one of the only non-vegetable or fruit drinks Draxum approved. Mikey has just finished up a story from one of the many art vlogs he watches, and, in the lag of conversation, he tries to broach the subject casually.

“Sooo… what’s our plan for the rest of the drive? Are we stopping, or…?”

“We’re going to try to make it all the way back to New York,” says April. “We already have our shifts picked out, and the autopilot is helping.”

“We can stop in a few more hours for another bathroom break,” says Donnie, pulling up a holoscreen showing their route and the drive time remaining. “Unless someone needs us to stop sooner.” He glances at Leo, and the way he’s bouncing the rim of the bottle off his teeth.

“Oh, uh, I’m good,” he says quickly, lowering the bottle. "I'm just wondering, uh... what about stopping for dinner?"

His family does about as good a job being subtle about looking at each other as he's being subtle about his worry. "We were thinking we'd probably try to find something around seven," says Donnie.

Seven. It's a little after three now. Okay. He can wait that long. What's four hours? And at least he knows what to expect now.

His family hesitantly return to their conversation. And Leo does his best to pay attention. April is telling them about all the stuff she's been doing to prepare for college in the fall, how she's already chatting with people running the student paper. She's excited about it, and Leo is excited for her.

"Ew, Leo," says Donnie suddenly, tearing him out of his thoughts. "Why are you doing that?"

Leo looks over at him in confusion. He starts to ask, Doing what?, but when he opens his mouth to speak, something falls out of his teeth and into his lap.

It's the Gatorade bottle cap, chewed down flat. Leo can see the marks from where his molars snapped through the lip, and the dents where he's been gnawing at it with his incisors.

He didn't even know he was doing that.

Everyone saw him doing that.

Embarrassment flushes through him, and he scrambles to grab the lid and toss it into their communal trash sack. Maybe no one noticed how thoroughly he had chewed on it.

"Gross," says Donnie, his nose scrunched up. So at the very least he saw. "You don't know where that's been."

"Oh please, it's not that gross," says Leo, doing his best to keep his voice light and airy. "It's just a bottle cap."

"That other people have touched and that you put into your mouth."

"Don't knock it till you try it, bro."

"I'm good not trying it."

"Your loss," says Leo with a shrug. He leans back, cool and calm and collected and not a total weirdo who gnaws on plastic like it's candy. "Stop looking at me like that, I threw it away already."

Donnie stops looking at him, literally. Things feel tense again. Leo doesn’t know how he keeps managing that.

Mikey jumps up, walking to the front of the tank, where Draxum is asleep in one of the chairs. Mikey shakes him awake, smiling in the face of his annoyed grumbling.

“Hey, Barry, is it okay if Leo has a snack?”

“Why do you have to ask him?” calls Leo, folding his arms. “Besides, I’m fine!”

His protests go ignored. “What time is it?” asks Draxum, sitting up and smoothing down his robes.

“I’m fine!” insists Leo, louder.

“It’s three fifteen,” Mikey says.

“Mm… Yes, he can have a snack.” Draxum gets up, going over to their snack cooler. “Leonardo, do you want crackers or more banana?”

“I’m fine!” Leo tries one more time, but his stomach flips when it occurs to him that he may actually not get a snack if he insists, and he wants the snack.

He sighs, sinking back in his seat, and says, “Crackers.” He wants the crunch of eating them.

Draxum brings him his crackers. There’s only four. He’s not sure why he’s getting less this time. Maybe because he was caught chewing on the lid.

He doesn’t ask. He eats what he’s been given, and then decides the best thing for everyone would be if he took another nap.

-----

Raph would have driven them all the way to New York if he’d been allowed. But they insist on having him swap with Donnie, and he ends up sitting in the back on the benches with because the other front chairs are hard for him to fit in.

Leo is asleep. He’s been sleeping a lot, but that’s to be expected. His body barely has any energy, and going by the dark circles, Raph knows he didn’t get much sleep while he was…

When Leo is awake, his family are their lively selves, chatting and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Once he goes to sleep, everyone quiets down, Donnie dims the lights in the cab, and a weird melancholy sets in.

Leo looks terrible. They haven’t talked about it, but they all know it. Raph is shocked Leo has even been able to walk on his own, but Draxum attributes that to their reinforced mutant biology. He’s swimming in a hoodie that is his size, his hands and feet are skeletal where they poke out of his clothes. Raph wonders how long it will take for him to start filling out again, to have muscle like he did before. He’s afraid to ask.

Splinter sits with Leo’s head in his lap, rubbing his shell any time he shifts in his sleep. Mikey curls up against Raph and sniffles, and Raph pulls him closer.

He has to keep reminding himself that Leo is here, and safe. He just ate a snack, and soon they’ll get another meal in him. Just give it a week or two, and they’ll have their brother back.

And then, he’ll make sure Leo knows he never has to sacrifice himself again.

-----

Home looks just like Leo remembered it, and feels totally foreign at the same time.

His family clap for him as he walks in, and he does a little bow, which is a poor decision because it leaves him feeling lightheaded after. Luckily Raph is there to catch him and carry him from the garage to the chair in the living room. Things are still weird between them, but at least Raph isn't totally avoiding him.

(Raph still hasn't yelled at him. He wishes they could just get it over with.)

They eat lunch, with Leo getting bland soup and crackers again. Draxum notes that he could have peanut butter if they could have it in the lair, which makes Raph look pointlessly guilty, so Leo changes the subject. After lunch, April gives him a big hug and tells him she'll see him soon, but she has to go back home before her mom gets too worried. Leo feels bad when he learns she's missed several days of class now, but she just laughs and pats his head.

"I'm a senior and it's May, Leo; that I show up at all is enough for them."

Everyone's tired from being on the road for over twenty four hours, so after April leaves they unanimously agree on a movie marathon/turtle pile in the living room. His brothers drag out their comfiest pillows and blankets and set up in the floor, while Splinter cuddles up with Leo in his recliner. Draxum actually stays, to everyone's surprise, and Mikey jumps at the opportunity to introduce him to the magic of Lou Jitsu and Jupiter Jim.

Leo drifts in and out the whole evening. He'll be awake for the whole first act of a movie, then blink and suddenly they're partway through a different film. Each time he wakes his dad is there, patting his hand and saying, "Hello, Blue," and his brothers are around him, quoting their favorite lines or jumping up to act along with their favorite parts. It's normal and it's familiar and it's warm and soft.

He eats more soup for dinner, and crackers and banana and a little pudding cup, as a treat. His family gets more sleepy as evening turns to night; his dad's snoring fills the room, and Draxum finally leaves to go to his apartment. His brothers settle in and fall asleep around the middle of Jupiter Jim's Last Trip to the Moon 17, curled up in a heap at the foot of the chair.

He's home.

He's really home.

It's over.

Leo buries his face in his dad's fur and lets that thought carry him to sleep.

-----

Leo's home and it's amazing.

Raph wishes that meant everything was back to normal.

He doesn't know how to be around Leo right now. Every time he looks at him, he sees the stick thin arms and the gaunt face and he hears Leo's voice saying, That's not what a hero would do, and he doesn't know what to say anymore. What if he accidentally says something that makes Leo feel like what happened to him was right? What if he accidentally makes Leo think he should do it again?

It's only been a day, he tries to tell himself. Leo's still spending most of his time sleeping, between his regular snacks and meals. Even when he's awake, he doesn't have much energy for conversation, seeming content to just sit and listen to everyone else. It's just not the right time. It'll get better once Leo is better.

He can wait until then.

It's the afternoon now, the day after they brought Leo home. Raph just finished his workout and is making his rounds to check on everyone, just to make sure that everyone is... well, just to make sure. Splinter is in the kitchen making tea, a kind with no caffeine or sugar, as per Draxum's instructions. Mikey and Leo are in the living room, a half-asleep Leo watching Mikey play video games on the projecter.

Donnie isn't there.

His heart lurches, no matter how much he tells himself it's okay. Donnie is fine, Donnie is home, Donnie hasn't gone missing, not right after they got Leo back.

(He'd tried to tell himself Leo was fine in the beginning, too.)

He checks their rooms first, but Donnie's is empty. Then it's up to the lab, where he finds the door closed.

He knocks, and a robotic voice asks for identification. He sighs, not wanting to play this game right now.

"Donnie, it's me. You better be in there..."

The door beeps and then slides up, revealing a dimly lit lab. At first, Raph thinks he must not be here, and he's about to turn to leave, but then he hears a noise from Donnie's big computer desk.

A sniffle.

His big brother senses shifting into hyperdrive, he speed-walks over. The door slides shut behind him with a mechanical whir.

Sure enough, Donnie is there, legs pulled up into his desk chair, face buried in his knees. His goggles are off and laying on the desk, and his computer monitor shows a video, frozen on...

A white room, almost empty, save the cot that is for some reason propped up in front of the toilet, and...

Donnie sniffles again, and Raph tears his eyes away from one little brother to the other.

"Donnie...? What is this?"

Donnie sniffs and sits up a little more, rubbing under his eyes where tear tracks are already drying. "It's the surveillance video from the EPF base."

Raph gathered that much. "Why... are you watching it?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Donnie looks up at him. "I wanted to see what they did to him."

"You couldn't just ask him?"

Donnie's drawn on eyebrows go down. "I don't know, do you want to ask him?"

Raph imagines trying to ask Leo questions like that and can't help but cringe. "Okay, no. Raph doesn't want to do that."

"Exactly." Donnie gestures at the screen. "I got this footage from the base. And I erased it permanently from their systems, for the record, and destroyed the hard drives to be sure. But I kept a copy for us. I thought, if Leo wasn't in a state to... well, just in case. We might need it for medical reasons."

"But we know what's wrong with him," Raph points out.

"Do we?"

"Uh, yeah." Raph nods. "Starvation... right?"

"Well, yes." Donnie drums his fingers on the table. "But... he's different, now. He's pretending he's not, and he's doing his normal Leo thing of joking and smiling, but... he is." Donnie scowls. "And I already asked Michael to confirm my suspicions, and he said so, too, so I know this isn't me overreacting!"

"Okay, okay!" Raph holds up his hands placatingly. "So you wanted to watch the footage to see what happened. What'd you find out?"

Donnie wilts, resting his chin on his knees. "I couldn't get further than the first twenty four hours."

Raph feels a foreboding chill run over his spine. "You couldn't... or you didn't want to?"

Donnie reaches over and presses a button. The footage shifts to a different angle, so now he can see the wall Leo was curled up against. Donnie runs the footage back at a fast speed, and Raph watches as Leo gets up a few times, disappearing into the blind spot of the camera, or going to grab water from a little slot by the door, until Donnie freezes on a new scene: the wall opening up to reveal a large window.

He leans forward, putting his hands on the desk. "Raph saw that - they were watching his cell through that."

"Yes. And he would sit in that spot," Donnie runs the footage forward a bit, to where Leo is sitting against the now white wall, "because it's in a blind spot to the window."

Raph grimaces. "He didn't want them watching him."

"But it didn't matter," says Donnie, and he reaches over and taps the button to go to a new angle... and again... and again. "They have every inch of the room covered."

Raph's heart sinks. "Does he know?"

"Leo's not dumb," says Donnie, a magnanimous statement coming from him. "He knew they had to be watching him with cameras."

"But he still tried to hide..."

"He was doing whatever he had to to feel better," concludes Donnie.

Raph sighs. "I wonder if it worked."

Donnie clicks another button, and the video player closes. He swivels his chair to face Raph, his eyes shiny again.

"I don't want to watch anymore," he admits.

Raph nods. "I wouldn't want to, either."

"No, I mean... because he was trying to hide." Donnie rubs at his eyes again. "Maybe it is a little ironic for me to be saying this, but... it feels like it would be a privacy violation."

Raph turns that over. Maybe knowing what happened to Leo could help them. But what Donnie is saying feels more important.

He puts his hand on Donnie's shoulder, the part that's bare past his battleshell, and gives it a rub. "You love him and you don't want to hurt him," he concludes.

Donnie sniffles again, and then uncurls himself, putting his legs down on the ground. He doesn't have to do more than that for Raph to catch on, and Raph scoops Donnie up into a hug that is quickly returned.

"...I keep hurting him," Donnie admits, resting his head on Raph's shoulder. "I don't know how, but it keeps happening."

"...Yeah, well, join the club," says Raph sadly. He pats at Donnie's back. "Raph can't seem to say the right thing, either."

Donnie laughs miserably. "I thought getting him back would be the hard part. And then everything would go back to normal."

"Yeah..." Raph gives him a tight squeeze. "But you know what April said?"

"What?"

"That we'll do the hard part, 'cause we love him."

"Well, April is the only other smart one in this family," says Donnie, and Raph gives him a noogie with no actual pressure.

"Everything will be okay," he says. "Raph promises."

That seems to calm Donnie down. Raph just hopes he can actually keep it.

-----

It's his first night back in his room, and for the first time since escaping, Leo can't sleep.

He doesn't know why he can't. The sheets are the same as always. The dim lights from outside his subway car filter in through the windows the same as they used to. He's wearing his favorite pajamas, which have pants and long sleeves. The temperature is warm but not too hot. Conditions are perfect.

But he can't sleep.

At first he thought maybe it's because he's alone for the first time, but he doesn't think it's that. In fact, the idea of going to one of his brothers or his dad makes him feel even more exhausted. He loves them and he loves being around them, but he's had to work hard all day to not seem too weird. He caught himself chewing his spoon at lunch and had to stop. He paced the kitchen until Draxum gave the okay for him to have a snack. Mikey poked his head in while he was changing shirts earlier and he froze up, deer in the headlights. In the end, he went to the bathroom to change, because at least there aren't windows in there.

He's being weird, and trying to not be weird is taking all his energy.

So no. He's okay being alone right now. But something is still bothering him.

It's not the bed; he slept in the motel just fine. It's not the temperature, because they're making sure the lair stays nice and warm for him. And it's not the clothes, because the clothes are covering him up. And it's not the windows because it's not even like anyone is looking through them.

Right?

It's only then that Leo realizes he keeps staring out of them.

He tears his eyes away to look at the ceiling, taking deep breaths. What is he worried about? So what if the train car is full of windows? Who would even be looking at him? It's just his family outside, and if they need to talk to him they'll come in.

Besides, the windows are see-through. If someone were looking at him, he'd be able to see them.

Just to reassure himself of that, Leo looks around at all the windows again.

Yep. Still see-through. So it's fine. It's really not a big deal! No one is going to look through the windows at him here. No one is watching him. He's safe, and if he weren't, he would know, because he can see.

...Maybe he could hide under his bed.

Leo gives his head a hard shake. No. He is not going to hide under his bed, because that would be weird, and Leonardo Hamato is not weird.

Maybe he can just... put up some curtains in his room. Just, purely for aesthetic reasons. Yeah, that would look really cool. He could get some blue ones with some kind of sick design. Add some real originality to this place.

And then he could cover the windows and no one could look in unless he wanted them to.

Not that anyone is looking in, because he's home and he's safe and he's okay and he really wants to hide under his bed-

He takes deep breaths. His eyes land on the posters on the wall of the train car.

Maybe... maybe they would look better over the windows. Just... aesthetically.

He moves the posters to the windows of the train car, pressing hard to get the old tape to stick. It covers the immediate windows around his bed, but there are still others, and they're more in the dark, so Leo can't see who might be out there.

Not that anyone would be.

But if someone were, he wouldn't be able to know.

So he grabs towels next, and t-shirts, and anything he has lying around his room, and puts them on the bed. Then he sneaks to the kitchen to find a roll of masking tape.

It's not easy, but after about an hour he's managed to cover every window in the train car with something.

Just... a preview. For how sweet the curtains are going to look. And not for any weird reasons, like being scared.

Because he's not scared. He's home, and he's safe, and no one is watching him from outside the windows.

He lays down in bed and surveys his handwork. The room is even darker now, with every window covered, completely different from the stark ever-present light in that place.

It makes him feel safe and hidden.

No one can look in, and he's shielded by the dark.

(He has no idea how he's going to explain this tomorrow.)

But when he finally shuts his eyes, he sleeps like a baby.

-----

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (here) | Part 4 (not yet out)

#rottmnt #dandy fanfiction #room fic #rise leo #rise raph #rise splinter #rise donnie #rise mikey #rise april #baron draxum #cw internalized ableism #cw vomit

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sidekick-hero · 4 months

Text

Written for the @steddielovemonth prompt: Love is being willing to wait for them.

Eddie was six years old when he first met Steve, not that he would remember it until much, much later.

The boy Eddie met that day was sweet and a little shy, perhaps because he was so small for his age. He was a year younger than Eddie, only five, which was forever in Eddie's eyes. He felt responsible for the little boy somehow, so he walked up to him on the deserted playground to make sure he was okay.

"'Ello!" Eddie exclaimed, holding out his hand for Steve to shake, like he'd seen his daddy do all the time when they were in town. His dad called it part of the Munson charm, whatever that was, and Eddie wanted to be as cool as his dad. "I'm Eddie, who are you?"

The boy looked up at Eddie with big eyes and made no move to take Eddie's hand, so Eddie reached out and took the boy's hand in his own and shook it wildly.

"See, that's how you do it. And then you say your name. Let's try it again!" Eddie decided, still pumping the boy's hand. "I'm Eddie."

"Steve," the boy said with a slight lisp, and Eddie thought maybe he hadn't said his name earlier because he was afraid Eddie would make fun of him for it. The other kids made fun of him a lot, for a lot of reasons that Eddie didn't really understand. All he knew was that he didn't like it; it made him sad. Especially since none of the other kids would play with him, so he had to go on his adventures all alone, fighting the big dragon without a trusted knight at his side.

Perhaps Steve could be his knight.

"Will you help me slay the big dragon, Steve?" Eddie asked, suddenly excited at the prospect of finally having someone to play with. "He stole all our gold, so we have to slay him!"

He was still holding Steve's hand, but he dropped it as he began to imitate how they would fight the beast with their swords. "I'm a mage because my mom says every fairy tale needs a good fairy or a mage to help the hero defeat the villain. And you can be that hero, Steve! I'll help you with my magic," Eddie promised, his whole face breaking into a wide grin.

Steve giggled, but Eddie thought it wasn't like the other kids laughing at him. It sounded nice, like Steve was enjoying Eddie's antics. "What do you think, Sir Steve?"

Between bursts of pearly laughter, Steve eagerly agreed, but then paused to ask Eddie in a suddenly serious tone, "But why don't you wanna be the hero?"

"I'm no hero, Stevie! I'm a mage, didn't you hear me? I can do magic to help the hero, because only together can we defeat the beast." Eddie explained in an equally serious tone, because killing dragons was serious business.

"Okay," Steve agreed. "How do we fight a dragon? I never fought a dragon before."

Eddie explained his plans to Steve, and together they ran and climbed around the playground in search of the dragon. It was the most fun Eddie had had in a long time. Steve was the best hero ever; he listened to Eddie's ideas and had some surprisingly fun ones of his own. They forgot everything around them, caught up in a world of make-believe, until a woman's voice startled them out of their play.

"Steve! Steven, where are you? If your parents come home and you're not there, they'll fire me," the woman grumbled before shouting again. "Steve!"

Eddie looked at Steve questioningly as the voice came closer.

"That's Lucy, she's looking after me 'cause my parents don't have time," Steve explained in a low voice. "I have to go." He looked very sad when he said that and Eddie already missed his bright smile.

"That's okay, Stevie, we can kill the dragon tomorrow!"

That made Steve perk up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah! I'll wait for you here tomorrow!"

"Thanks, Eddie!" Steve exclaimed, throwing his arms around Eddie in a tight hug before running off to find the woman.

The next day, Eddie was back at the playground as soon as he could get away from their house, telling his mama that he had finally made a friend and now they had to kill the dragon. "He's my hero, Mom, and I'm his mage, just like in the fairy tales!" He told her, and she hugged him tightly before making him and Steve two sandwiches, because "slaying dragons is hard work and makes you hungry'.

Steve wasn't there when Eddie arrived at the playground, so Eddie sat down on the swings and waited for his new friend.

He waited until the first signs of dawn reached the playground, and he had to eat both sandwiches because he was hungry, and drink all the water his mama had packed.

Eddie only left when it got dark, and he knew his mama would be worried. But he was back the next day, and the next. Every day for weeks, Eddie waited for Steve on the swing, always wondering why his new friend didn't want to play with him anymore.

Eddie never made a connection between his Stevie and King Steve. How could he, when King Steve was all aloof and arrogant, looking down on people like Eddie and walking the halls of Hawkins High with that haughty grin on his face. The boy wasn't his hero, and Eddie wouldn't dream of using his magic to help him.

Funnily enough, the first time Steve's sight sparked any kind of recognition in Eddie was when Eddie pinned him against a boathouse wall with a bottle against his neck. Stripped of his usual confidence by surprise and fear, Steve looked somehow... small. He sounded even smaller as he tried to reassure Eddie that he meant no harm, and the sound of his voice made something tingle at the back of Eddie's mind.

Steve was different than Eddie had expected, to say the least.

At times, he was snarky and bitchy. But not in the mean way he had been in high school. He was all bark and no bite. And he was good to Eddie's sheep, to all the kids, really. Like a big brother, a protector. A knight in shining armor who stood between them and danger.

And not just for the kids, for everyone.

Steve jumped into a dark, deep lake not knowing what awaited him; fought demonic bats with bare hands and teeth, losing more flesh than seemed healthy.

Steve was a hero, and later Eddie berated himself for not realizing it sooner, but hindsight is 20/20, and he only understood that Steve Harrington was indeed his Stevie when it was too late to do anything about it.

Eddie was almost sure when they stole the RV together, because the way Steve grinned at him just before they switched positions and Steve sped out of the trailer park reminded him so much of the sweet boy he once knew.

The boy he never really stopped waiting for.

When Steve asked Dustin and Eddie not to be cute, not to be heroes, he decided to test his theory.

"We're not heroes," he told Steve, and when Dustin said “you can be the hero, Steve” Eddie was watching his face for any sign of recognition. He could have sworn he saw a flicker of it in Steve's eyes. That was the moment he almost, almost asked outright.

Eddie even called out to him, the words on his tongue, "Why didn't you come back? I was waiting for you.' But in the end he decided against it. What use was there? They had bigger problems to deal with right now. He would ask Steve later, when it was all over. He would tell him that he had been waiting for him all this time and that he was glad that Steve had come back to him.

They would talk later.

Only later wouldn't come, Eddie realized as he tasted his own blood in his mouth and stared into Dustin's frightened, tearful eyes.

And then Steve was there, holding his hand, begging him, pleading with him to stay, not to die. Eddie couldn't promise him that, but he had promised him something else, and he wanted Steve to know that he had never broken that promise.

"I waited for you, Stevie. Every..." Eddie coughed wetly, more blood flooding his mouth, and he suppressed the grimace to keep smiling at Steve. "Every day. I knew you'd come back. Worth... the wait," Eddie whispered, his voice fading. Eddie was fading fast.

In the distance he heard Steve's voice begging him to stay, he needed his mage by his side, and the last thing he thought was that he was sorry he had to leave before he could see Steve slay their dragon, but he hoped his magic had helped enough.

The next time Eddie was able to think and feel, it was like waking up from the worst hangover ever. Everything hurt, even his hair.

Slowly opening his eyes to a thankfully dimly lit room, he winced at the sharp pain in his head. It made moving his head even more torturous, but Eddie had to know where he was. Looking around as much as he could, he realized several things.

He was in a hospital bed with monitors beeping softly beside him.

It was night, with only a small bedside lamp providing some light.

Steve Harrington was asleep next to him, his arms crossed on Eddie's bed and his head resting on them.

Eddie must have made some sort of noise at the sight, because at that moment Steve jumped to his feet, ready to fight or flight.

Then he looked at Eddie and a myriad of expressions played across his face. Most of them passed too quickly for Eddie to decipher, but he's sure he saw surprise and joy. Wonder, definitely, but maybe fear, too, though Eddie had no idea why Steve would be afraid of him.

"Steve," Eddie croaked, his throat like sandpaper. The sound of his name was enough to jolt Steve into action and he hurried over to Eddie's bedside table. Seconds later, a straw was held to his mouth and blessedly cool water filled his mouth and ran down his throat.

"Thank you," he told Steve when the cup was empty and he felt more like a human being again. A badly mangled human being, but he took what he could get. "What happened? Is everyone..."

"Vecna is dead. Everyone made it out alive." Eddie let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "That's all you need to know for now. I'll tell you the rest tomorrow, okay? You should get some more rest. You... we almost lost you."

Steve looked shattered as he said this and Eddie finally noticed the dark bags under his eyes. Steve's hair worried him even more. It looked greasy and unkempt, worse than it had even looked in the Upside Down.

Eddie was afraid to ask, but he had to know. "How long..."

"Twenty days. They couldn't tell us when you'd wake up. If you'd wake up." His voice broke at the words, and Eddie tried to lift his hand to soothe and comfort, but it weighed a million pounds.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long, Stevie," he said instead, hoping to ease Steve's pain with his words instead. But all it did was make Steve collapse, the bed the only thing breaking his fall. He was the one who reached for Eddie's hand then and held on to it like a lifeline.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm the one who kept you waiting for years. I never went back to that playground. My babysitter didn't want to take me anymore because I ran away, and she almost lost her job. And then it had been years before I was old enough to go by myself and I couldn't... the thought of going there and you not being there was too much. And why should you be? Nobody would wait that long."

The "not for me" rang out between them and Eddie gathered all his strength to pull Steve's hand to his mouth. As he planted a kiss on the soft skin of the back of his hand, Eddie said in a low voice, "I did ... I waited all this time for you. This playground became my hound, once a day I would stop by, just in case. I always hoped you would come back."

Now it was Steve's turn to take Eddie's hand in his and place it gently on his cheek, planting a soft kiss on Eddie's palm.

Caressing Steve's lips with his thumb, Eddie smiled at the sweet boy he had waited a lifetime for. His hero.

"We did it, Stevie. We slayed the dragon!"

Steve's pearly laugh echoed through the room, silenced only by Eddie's lips as he leaned down to capture them in a fairy-tale kiss.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 4 #love is being willing to wait for them #my writing

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impale-me-radio-daddy · 1 month

Text

The Lookalike (Part 6)

☒ Summary: The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument. “No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.” You awaken in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you immediately fall into the clutches of his nemesis, and then into the arms of the Radio Demon himself.

☒ Warnings: hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, reader x Alastor, reader x Vox, Vox x Alastor, they/them pronouns used, explicit sexual content, reader is in Hell for a reason, Valentino, canon typical scenarios.

☒ Series links: Part I Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6 BONUS SCENE Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

Post coital Alastor was different to how you had expected him. You’d thought he would be aloof, to peel himself from your body and your fluids and your stickiness and not deign to touch you for the rest of the night, leaving you to your own devices. Instead, he was cuddly, almost kittenish, pressing his face to the crook of your neck, your collar, your chest, his arms possessive around you. You kissed the tips of his antlers, which brought forth a hum of pleasure from him; nothing sexual, but a sound of satisfaction that you could feel through your lips as you pressed them to his prongs, his slight frame relaxing against yours. You stroked his hair, letting him nuzzle against you, and stroked his back, feeling the edges of the bandages he wore beneath his clothes and delicately avoiding them.

Even after both of you had washed up and changed for bed, he returned to embracing you, his face on your shoulder and the length of his body pressed up against yours, warm and comfortable as both of you settled for sleep.

“Are you always like this?” you asked, carding your fingers through his silky hair.

Alastor curled himself against you further, smiling into the fabric of your pajamas. “I can’t say I recall,” he said, eyes briefly meeting yours with a look that made your heart flutter.

What was he trying to achieve? To seduce you now made little sense, considering the power imbalance between you and your willingness to fuck him. Perhaps like you he enjoyed a warm body next to him. Or perhaps, like you, he was becoming a little attached.

You slept with long limbs tangled, you careful not to put weight on Alastor’s injuries, he careful not to damage your nascent antlers, and when you woke Alastor was still half on top of you, his face against your chest, arms round you, hugging you like you had hugged his pillows previously.

It was hard for Alastor to describe the sensation of touch after its long absence. Sex had been exquisite, of course, the soft squeeze of your thighs and then the heat of your cunt around him, but it had been serving an immediate need, the drug an insistent pull on his hindbrain. To hold you, though, to relax into languid almost-stupor with your warm body against him, that was for him. It was a long drink of clear water after years in the desert, soothing a psyche he had forgotten was parched.

He touched people all the time, of course. An arm around the shoulders, a casual hand on the back, a dance or two. But he was always the instigator, always in control. For an animal demon, to be petted was an act of ultimate subservience, and as the Radio Demon, he couldn’t afford to be seen in such a way. Couldn’t afford to be seen as anything less than monstrous.

Sometimes the lack became too much, and he would find himself a few drinks in, demanding waltzes and tangos with friends, his poor dehydrated heart palpitating with each new touch. But he never really let his guard down; this was Hell, after all, and one couldn’t trust anyone here. His early years had taught him that lesson, before Vox had hammered it home.

But you? You were his mirror, your face devoid of guile and your frequency in tune with his own. Would people think he was weak, if they found out he had slept in your arms, your fingers in his hair? No, they would think it was fucking creepy, and that, in Alastor’s opinion, was just fine and dandy.

You kept a professional distance from each other outside of your shared bedroom, which suited you just fine. Behind that closed door was warmth, and quiet companionship, neither of you demanding much of the other. If this was romance, it was a backwards sort of romance; getting to know a man in the afterglow of fucking, your first dates in the comfort of his bed. You talked about safe things- Alastor’s voice fizzing with a quiet delight when he found out you could play an instrument or two- but both of you skirting around the subject of your mortal lives. Neither of you talking about your methods, or your rationale, or the dark urges that crept beneath your skins.

Each morning as you lay in bed, Alastor would examine your antlers, fingers delicate over your velvet, and each morning he would purse his lips and shake his head, not yet, before kissing you softly good morning.

It was inevitable, of course, that your confinement in the hotel would begin to chafe.

Killing cockroaches with Niffty barely put a dent in your appetites, but you did it anyway to fill your time, until you were able to casually fling a knife across a room and pin a roach to a wall. There was a certain satisfaction to the crunch that they made as they died, but no fear in their eyes, no chase, no hunt. You took one to Alastor’s room to dissect it, Alastor turning up to watch curiously as you did; the carapace of the insect came away in neat segments to reveal organs that looked no different to those of an earthly beetle, right down to the fine tubules that formed its guts. You even cut a sliver of the meat from its back and tasted it, but it was bitter, so you packed up the unfortunate creature, cleaned the tools you had used and took it out to the garbage.

Though you had shown no ability to magically control shadows, you found that the ventilation system in the hotel could be used to much the same effect as Alastor’s teleportation. If you were clever about it, you could vanish from one room and drop from the ceiling in another, and you amused yourself for a good day and a half practicing Alastor’s nonchalant walk and grin as you did this.

Finally your chores were done and your insects dead, leaving you with nothing to do until your antlers grew in. Small things started to irritate you, more than they should.

“Can you stop pacing?” said Husk, as you stalked the length of the lobby for the twentieth time that day. “You’re giving me the creeps.”

You turned to Husk, frowning. He’d never been anything other than gruffly deferential to Alastor.

“You’re not him,” said Husk, tilting his head to one side. “So don’t expect me to treat you the same.”

“How do you know I’m not him?”

“You’re not smiling, for one,” said Husk. “And for the second, you’re wearing a novelty fez with definitely not Alastor embroidered on it.”

Turning to Husk, you removed the fez from your hair, leaving your head bare, and gave him a smile. “And Alastor definitely wouldn’t stop smiling, even if it benefited him in some way, hm?”

“Are you two fucking?”

You raised an eyebrow. “None of your business.”

“See, that’s how I know you’re not him.” Husk stacked the glass he had been cleaning onto the shelf. “He would be halfway through eviscerating me by now. You’re more in control than that.”

It was probably true- you had seen it. Alastor’s temper was easily frayed; even a mention of Vox set him on edge, his eyes glowing dials and his fingernails long. “Seems pretty risky to provoke someone like that,” you said.

“What can I say, I’m a gambling man.” Husk smiled to himself, leaning onto his side of the bar. “What good am I if I can’t trust a gut feeling once in a while?”

You took a seat at the bar, noting that Angel was absent from his usual spot. No sign of either Alastor or his shadow- perhaps he was dealing with something outside the hotel. “What do you know about him?”

“About Alastor?” Husk’s expression darkened, his eyes going to the shadowy corners you had scanned a moment before. “You’re the one sharing his bedroom.”

It was a cheap deflection. Possible that he was under a magical nondisclosure agreement regarding Alastor’s affairs. Equally possible that he was just being a good retainer. You pushed anyway “And you’ve worked for him a long time now. You must know something.”

Husk raised one long eyebrow. “You’re planning an escape?

“What?” The question caught you unguarded. Why would you want to surrender what you had now? Memory of how Alastor had felt curled against you came to mind, how soft his hair was between your fingers. “You must be kidding.”

Husk snorted. “You actually like that psychopath.”

“What can I say? He reminds me of me.”

“Yeah, you are a creepshow alright.”

“Someone less generous might assume you were still trying to provoke me.”

“I’m telling it like I see it,” said Husk, darkly “That’s all. And right now what I see is someone who looks like my psychopath employer’s creepy twin pacing around like a junkie on the prowl for their next fix.”

A junkie. If only it were that simple. The skin beneath your fingernails itched. You gave Husk a wry smile. “I’m just bored, stuck in here,” you lied.

“Then fuckin’ leave,” said Husk. “He won’t be back until nightfall.”

You looked for a long moment at the stained glass of the hotel doors, then shook your head. You were frustrated, yes, but you’d believed Alastor when he had talked about the vulnerabilities of your anatomy. It was the same as his own, after all. You just needed patience. “I shouldn’t,” you said. “I’ll just find something to occupy my hands for now,” you said, and you saw Husk look at you sharply, probably remembering Alastor’s comment, actually I think they’re more of a strangler.

Unwilling to alienate the hotel staff further, you returned to Alastor’s room, and looked for something to do, and your gaze settled on the gramophone on the table in the corner. You had talked about music in bed, idly, Alastor rattling off a list of recommendations, some timeless and some lost to history, but he’d never offered to play you anything. Since he was usually demonstrative, that probably meant the player was broken, and sure enough, when you inspected it, the turntable was stiff, unable to spin. It was an old model, entirely mechanical in nature, and obviously well-used, given the marks on the handles of the cover where the chrome plating had been rubbed from the brass.

You fetched tools and materials from one of the unoccupied rooms you’d found on your rounds, and set to work dismantling the piece, lining up the screws in order as you took them out. The felt on the turntable had seen better days, but that was only cosmetic. The real problems were likely to be the motor and spring fro the turntable, and given the age of the device, possibly perishing on the rubber components.

Methodically, you cleaned and polished each piece, applying new grease as needed. You let memory take over as you worked, an odd sort of peace overcoming you as your focus narrowed to the task at hand. The rubber diaphragms on the soundbox were in a bad state but not unusable; the major problem was, as you had suspected, the spring that powered the turntable itself. Stress had weakened a certain point on the spring, and repeated use had sheared the metal, leaving it hanging limp.

Taking some of the sheet metal you had taken from the mystery workshop room, you cut and turned a fresh spring for the turntable, testing its strength with your fingers. The task didn’t exactly remove the itch you felt, but it occupied you as the hours passed, the outside world fading into irrelevance.

“What, exactly,” said Alastor from behind you, his voice cold. “Do you think you are doing?”

The hair on the back of your neck stood on end; you hadn’t even registered Alastor entering the room. You’d overstepped. The gramophone had been precious to him, and you hadn’t realized. You raised your hands. “I was fixing it. The turntable-

“You weren’t-” Alastor’s eyes were dials. “-upgrading it, by any chance.”

“Of course not, I was restoring it,” you said, a little archness creeping into your own tone, and you felt your own body shift a little in response to your emotional state, antlers curling. “That is a Pathé Olotonal and once I replace the spring it’ll work fine. Why the fuck would I want to upgrade it?”

Alastor looked at the neatly disassembled parts on the table, and the tools you had put down, his antlers slowly retracting. “Oh? You were an antiquarian?”

“Close. I used to curate a museum.” This was as close as you’d come to talking about your mortal life since you’d come here, and you suspected that Hell was much like jail, in that people didn’t tend to talk about what they’d done before they died.

“I was a radio host,” offered Alastor, and it felt like he was putting the information forward as a gift. Not a secret, exactly, but something for you to know about him in exchange. “I’d like to watch,” he said, nodding to the table. “If that’s alright with you?”

“That’s fine. Do you have a record I can test it on?” you asked. “Nothing too precious, please.”

Alastor polished his claws on his jacket. “I suppose I have one or two I could part with.”

You finished the job as Alastor watched, smiling with satisfaction as you wound the mechanism and the turntable began to spin evenly. Alastor handed you a record, some contemporary jazz, and you placed it down, lowering the needle carefully so as to not damage it.

And you listened to the music. Both of you listened, Alastor looking down so fondly at the little turntable that you almost offered to give him a moment alone with it.

There was an edge to the sound that you hadn’t expected, an almost tinny sound. Electronic. You frowned, lowering your head to the horn, but the sound wasn’t coming from the gramophone. It was feedback. Alastor seemed troubled too, his ear twitching. Not just one source, but many, all broadcasting the music on the turntable.

You looked at him, not voicing your concerns, but your eyes questioning. Given that his room lacked even an electrical socket, you doubted he had anything to do with an array of microphones. The light in the room turned to a dim, angry red at Alastor’s silent bidding, and you caught the gleam of lenses embedded in the room around you.

“I think,” said Alastor, his smile strained. “There may be something wrong with this record. I have more in my tower, if you would care to accompany me.”

You nodded, trying not to sound stilted now that you knew you were being recorded. “Of course.”

No sooner had you agreed than Alastor swallowed you up in his shadow, spitting you out into the floor of the control room of his radio tower, absent any pretense of calm.

“You did this. You’re working for him.” Alastor’s voice was thick with distortion. “Fucking Vox.” He spat the name, like it was a bad taste in his mouth.

Your ears flattened against your skull as you picked yourself up. “I’m not working for Vox. Fuck that guy.”

“Oh, you seem to have that covered,” said Alastor, his smile cruel and his eyes glowing. “Judging by what I saw of you.”

Fury rose to the surface. You’d tried not to let it show how the photos had bothered you, but Alastor had seen, and now he was twisting the knife. You didn’t trust yourself with words- that would just make it worse, but a hiss of static escaped from between your bared teeth.

“I let you in my bed, and you betrayed me,” Alastor continued, rounding on you. There was an edge to his voice, a crack there. You wanted to touch his shoulder and comfort him, but the part of your brain that was still halfway rational told you that would only make him think worse of you.

You needed to think. You needed to stop him, before he made up his mind to kick you to the curb. Whoever had planted the cameras had betrayed both of you, and if you could convince him you were on his side, you could work together. Mentally, you reviewed the terms of your contract. No physical or metaphysical harm to those within the hotel. That meant you couldn’t hurt Alastor, not that you stood much of a chance against him with his shadow powers. But the way he had spoken hinted that his own obligations imposed similar limitations upon him.

You stared into Alastor’s dials as he approached, steeling yourself as you felt your own antlers unfurling, the buzz of your own static in your throat. All you needed was for Alastor to be surprised for a moment, to be rational, and listen. Keeping eye contact, you stepped within Alastor’s reach, and with a quick jerk of your head, locked your antlers with his.

Pain. That was the first thing you felt, dizzying hot and sharp, like a knife slicing the skin. A rivulet of blood ran down the left side of your face, your eyes inches from Alastor’s. You could feel him through your antlers and through his, his body freezing in place, the vibration of his heart, his rage and his hurt. He grunted at the contact, eyes horrid and wide.

“Alastor, please help me,” you said, dead-eyed, invoking your own contract with him as another stream of blood crept down over your forehead. “I’m being attacked.”

Alastor snarled through his grin, an awful, distorted noise that made the bleeding tines of your antlers ache in time with it, but he did not move his head. Could not, you suspected as the terms of your deal required him to aid you. But now he was captive. Now he might listen to reason.

You breathed out, blinking away blood that flowed into your eye, struggling to keep your voice steady. “I’m flattered that you think I’m capable of bugging our bedroom like that, but I’m really not. You stripped me naked when you brought me here, you’ve been watching me this whole time, and I’ve not left the fucking building.”

Alastor breathed out through his open mouth, teeth wicked sharp, but his eyes no longer maddened. “You’re an idiot.”

“Precisely.” You smiled, blood dripping down over your nose and lips. “Now, what are we going to do about Vox?”

“Oi, are you even payin’ attention?” Velvette snapped her fingers in front of Vox’s face.

Vox sighed. The truth was, he hadn’t been. The truth was, he had been cycling through the feeds of the drones he’d posted around the hotel, looking for Alastor.

“I’m sure whatever you said is the correct thing,” he said, waving her back. Fake Alastor had just fixed Alastor’s record player, and there was bound to be a sexy thank-you for that, right? But they were gone, vanished in a blob of shadow.

“You’re a massive knobhead, you know that?” said Velvette.

“I haven’t had knobs since the early nineties,” replied Vox, deadpan. “What do you want?”

“What I want is for you to quit fucking around on whatever your fucking secret santa wank workshop is and actually fucking contribute to our fucking strategy meeting,” said Velvette.

“I don’t see that there’s much to say. Cannibal town is weak, move the fuck in already.”

“See?” Valentino gesticulated. “That’s what I’ve been fucking saying, for the past fucking hour. He agrees with me.”

“Yeah, right.” Velvette put one hand on her hip. “He just said he agrees with me.”

“Ay, he wasn’t paying a-fucking-ttention,” said Valentino. “You just pointed that out.”

“Ladies. Please.” Vox spread his claws. “I’m sure you can both be right.”

It was always like this, with the three of them. Val was capable of picking a fight with furniture if he was left in a room with it for long enough, and while Velvette wasn’t that bad, she had approximately zero patience for what she termed, not inaccurately, Valentino’s bullshit. They needed Vox to mediate, always. Reluctantly, Vox tore himself from reviewing drone footage and put his talents to work making Valentino and Velvette feel valued, so they didn’t tear each other apart.

By the time he was done and had returned to his control room, all of the feeds to Alastor’s room were dead. The fuck? Vox hissed in frustration, checking the recorded files, and scanning the video back and forth to find the point at which the feed cut.

Alastor carrying you back into the bedroom, both of you covered in blood. Alastor, throwing you down onto the bed. Alastor, crawling over you, tentacles extending from his back. Then, nothing. Vox wound to the point just before the feed cut, playing at normal speed and turning on the audio.

“Hello, old chum.” Alastor turned his neck uncannily and looked directly at the hidden camera, smiling. “I find that these things are really best enjoyed in person. So, if you want to come along-” he treated the camera to a salacious wink. “-you know exactly where to find me.”

The feed cut in a burst of eldritch static, and Vox stared at the blank screen for a good thirty seconds, rock hard in his pants.

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbin x reader #vox x reader #vox #vox x alastor #antlerplay

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justporo · 3 months

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Until you believe it

A/N: Well, I planned on continuing writing that smut fic (I am working on it, just trying to cook a very good meal for all of you). But then I got warm fuzzy feelings for these two again. Hot elven men, can you blame me? Thanks as always to @velnna for letting me borrow his blorbo!

Things had been so different since that night Astarion had taken all his courage to let Staeve in. Like something had been broken and simultaneously healed once Staeve had wrapped his arms around him and assured him that he wanted nothing else but real between them.

When the pale elf had leaned his forehead against the other rogue’s shoulder he had allowed himself to melt into his touch, at least for a moment. For a few of Staeve’s heartbeats - he could clearly feel hammering in the taller man’s chest - he had felt at peace, his mind pleasantly quiet for maybe the first time in 200 years. The tender hug an oasis in the endless desert.

The vampire still couldn’t believe it but for whatever reason the curious half-drow had stayed, kept tolerating him, even after he had revealed himself and his ulterior motives to him.

And not only that: the gaze of the Staeve’s black and teal eyes always softened when he looked at Astarion. His arms seemed always open, his embrace always welcoming, the words murmured into the vampire’s ear in the nights - they mostly spent fully clothed with each other now - so genuine.

It was almost enough to sway him.

But there must be a catch. There always was. The other shoe must be just about to drop. Moments of serene, blissful ease in Staeve’s arms were followed by deep, gnawing doubt.

Nothing came without a price attached. At least Astarion was in the deeply ingrained habit of thinking that. And old habits, as one knows, die hard.

Those usually were the moments when Astarion would steal away in the nights. To keep pondering about what all this meant - alone. Letting thoughts spiral in his mind until nothing made sense anymore.

That’s what he felt like doing right now as he laid there in the depth of night, Staeve laying at his back, one arm casually wrapped around him. The other rogue had dozed off long ago, subconsciously dragging Astarion in closer to him in his sleep, softly murmuring words that were unintelligible.

The vampire quietly rose to his feet, detangling himself from the other and using all of his roguish dexterity to not disturb Staeve in his blissful sleep. As he opened the flap of his tent a sleepy voice caught him right in the act and made him stop: “What do you think you’re doing?”

Astarion was as still as a statue now.

Staeve’s words weren’t really more intelligible than the stuff he had let out during his sleep. But his still half asleep mind had immediately made sense of the scene in front of him: Astarion scattering off again to sit in the darkness and let his worries take the better of him. He wasn’t about to let that happen, not on his watch.

The vampire slowly turned back around to him.

“I know what you’re doing, Astarion!”

Staeve’s words were still sluggish but he was determined to not let Astarion simply leave like this. With a bit of an effort he pushed himself to a sitting position, lips pursed.

“Don’t think I don’t know how you’re stealing away at night.”

He had very well noticed the vampire’s nightly get-aways but not said anything yet. The pain in Astarion’s crimson eyes he sometimes saw when the vampire thought no one was watching was enough to let the half-drow know that deeply rooted fears must be bugging his lover ceaselessly.

Fortunately for both of them, Staeve had a very fine plan to cure his partner of his worries, at least temporarily.

“Get back down here, I’m not done yet,” Staeve spoke more clearly now and opened up his arms wide for Astarion. His expression allowed no rejection.

But Astarion wouldn’t be Astarion- “Well, what if I am?”

His tone was snarky, his face mimicking Staeve’s pursed lips. The vampire crossed his arms and glared at his slow-blinking partner still trying to get back into the world of the awake.

Something in Staeve’s eyes changed then.

“Can we talk about that tomorrow and for now you get back into my arms?”

There it was again, that genuine tone that immediately made Astarion crack. Ruby eyes flitted over the half-drow’s face and searched for signs of deception or ill will. He found none. Nothing but deep affection and honest worry.

And that was when he folded despite his efforts. The need and the wish to be held by Staeve and being able to lay down his head quickly became an urge he couldn’t ignore. Astarion’s shoulders slumped and with a vulnerable expression on his face he took up Staeve’s open offer and arms and crawled back over to the other rogue.

After a bit shifting and wiggling they lay there similarly than before. But both arms were comfily wrapped around Astarion now, maybe even a leg so as to not let him escape again.

Staeve softly nuzzled the vampire’s pointy ear, purring softly at having him back where he rightfully belonged. Astarion slowly but surely relaxed into his warm touch as silence and nothing but the sound of a soft rumbling deep inside Staeve’s chest filled the night.

“Not done with what though?” Astarion suddenly asked after a long while whenStaeve had almost contentedly dozed off again.

The half-drow took a few moments to blink away the oncoming sleep so he could clearly speak and bring his point across:

“Hugging you. Smothering you with affection. Teasing you lovingly. Until you believe it.”

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #astarion x tav #staeve #astarion x staeve #drabble #bg3

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sailor-aviator · 8 months

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Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Seven

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger Gang of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Swearing, Reader having a crisis, Guilt, Shame, Jake Seresin. I think that's it?

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: I am still so overwhelmed by how much you guys love this series. I never thought I'd make it this far, but here we are! As always, reboots, comments and likes are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator!

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

The house truly was a magnificent sight, even more so now that you had been away for so long. The massive, three story brick house sat perched behind an expanse of trees that shielded it from the road during the spring and summer months. Now, the trees were barren save for the patches of snow that laid on the branches. Jake smirked down at where you were fidgeting excitedly in your seat.

“What?” You asked him, squirming even more under his gaze.

He shook his head, smiling softly now. “Nothin’. Just seeing you so excited is cute is all.”

You blushed, refusing to meet his gaze. At that moment, the carriage stopped in front of the large steps that led up to the front door. An older couple stood at the base of them, smiling as they saw you. You reached for the handle, jumping out and rushing into the arms of the woman. She smelled of calming lavender, a scent that reminded you of your days as a child where you would run through the halls and sneak into her room to peak into her jewelry box. Her hands were gentle as they held you, cooing as you hugged her tightly.

“Aunt Jo,” you murmured into her shoulder, her hand reaching up to stroke your hair gently.

“It’s so good to see you, my darling,” she said, pulling back to look at you. An affectionate smile graced her lips as she looked you up and down. Your Uncle Walter stepped up to grab you from your aunt and wrap you in a hug of his own. He smelled of clean linen and the smoke from his pipe, a smell that reminded you so much of your father.

“How are you, my girl?” He asked you as he pulled back. You held onto his hands as you stared at the pair.

“I’ve been well, and so has Benji,” you smiled, hearing rustling from the carriage. Aunt Jo looked up, a curious smile instantly alighting on her face as Jake stepped down onto the cobblestone. You turned to see him just as he straightened up, glancing between you and your aunt and uncle. You let go of your uncle’s hands to gesture for Jake to step forward. “Aunt Josephine, Uncle Walter, may I present to you Jake Seresin.”

Uncle Walter stepped forward, reaching out his hand to Jake, which he took. The two men shook, Jake offering a polite smile while your uncle studied him closely.

“It’s an honor, sir,” Jake told him sincerely. The two dropped their hands, and you found yourself glancing nervously between the two. You weren’t sure why you were so anxious, but you felt a wave of calm as your uncle broke out in a smile, clapping Jake on the shoulder as he led him towards the house.

“Please, call me Walter, my boy,” he chuckled. “Come inside, you must be freezing in those clothes.”

You heard Jake let out a quiet sigh in relief as he allowed himself to be steered into the house, you and your aunt following close behind.

“There isn’t a lot of snow out in the desert,” you hummed by way of explanation as the tips of Jake’s ears turned a bright pink.

“No, I suppose there isn’t,” Uncle Walter laughed as the four of you made your way into the parlor.

“Benji’s clothing was just a bit too small for him,” you frowned, sitting down next Aunt Jo on the sofa as Uncle Walter gestured for Jake to sit in one of the armchairs. Jake glanced at you anxiously, and you smiled, nodding just enough for him to pick up on the gesture. He sat down carefully in the armchair as your uncle did the same. Jake’s green eyes darted around the room, taking in the ornate woodwork and expensive decor that your aunt and uncle seemed so fond of.

“That’s an easy fix,” your aunt said, smiling warmly at Jake who still seemed uneasy. You frowned at him, not understanding why he was so nervous. Your aunt and uncle were well off, yes, but they were kind people, practically saints when compared with the rest of high society in Baltimore. You knew Benjamin had prepped him on what to expect, but you supposed that he was feeling much like you had felt when first arriving in Maverick. It’s one thing to be told, it’s another thing entirely to experience firsthand.

“Of course!” Uncle Walter exclaimed, turning to the younger man. “We can go first thing in the morning and get you all sorted out.”

“Oh, I couldn’t-” Jake started, looking at you with wide eyes for help, but your aunt waves him off.

“Nonsense,” she said. “We insist. We’ll have to find something for you to wear in the meantime to help keep you warm. I think your cousin, John, might still have some clothing upstairs in his old room. I’ll have Michael fetch them for you, Jake.”

“I appreciate that,” the blond said quietly, watching as the old butler nodded at your aunt before turning and disappearing out the door.

“Now,” Aunt Jo smiled, looking between you and Jake. “The two of you must be simply exhausted from your journey. I’ll have the maids show you up to your rooms, and we can meet back downstairs in an hour for supper.”

“That sounds wonderful, Aunt Jo,” you grinned at her.

The next morning brought a sense of familiar comfort as you awoke in the lavish guest room. Fine furniture was scattered in different areas of the large room, and several scenic paintings adorned the walls. You had gotten dressed quickly, eager to start your day. Aunt Jo had told you that your best friend, Lucy, had been calling upon the house every day since word had arrived that you would be arriving back in town. Lucy was a cheeky redhead who you adored more than any other socialite in town, and you were excited to see her again after so many months apart.

You sat at the dining room table next to your aunt just as Jake walked into the room with your uncle. He wore a simple pair of wool pants and a brown jacket that looked to be about two sizes too small on him, but it would serve the purpose of shielding him from the cold. He sat down across from you, sitting at your uncle’s right hand.

“Good morning, my dove,” Uncle Walter greeted Aunt Jo, smiling fondly at her. She returned the gesture, resting her hand on top of his briefly before resuming her meal. He continued. “Jake and I will visit the tailor’s straight after breakfast. I’m sure it’ll take us most of the morning to get him situated with some things to wear. Scout, what are your plans for the morning?”

“I’m going to go have tea with Lucy,” you answered him simply. Jake looked at you, nerves once again showing themselves on his face. You gave him a reassuring smile before the conversation moved on to another topic.

Breakfast was finished quickly, and your uncle told Jake he would meet him by the carriage while he went to grab something from his study. You were putting on your coat when Jake grabbed your wrist. You turned to see his eyes searching yours uncertainly, and you gave him a puzzled look in return.

“Are you alright?” You asked him, a frown tugging at your lips.

Jake swallowed thickly. “What if…what if I do something wrong?”

“Jake,” you chuckled, “you’re going to buy a couple of outfits. You stand there as the tailor takes your measurements and then you pick out what ones you like best. What could you possibly do wrong?”

“What if I say the wrong thing? Or what if I insult someone on accident? Benjamin tried to help me prepare for what things would be like here, but I feel like a rattlesnake amongst coyotes. I just know I’m going to screw things up, and then I’ll make you look bad, and-”

“Jakey,” you cooed softly up at him, taking his hand in one of yours as you reached up to brush the hair out of his face with the other. His mossy green eyes darted between yours anxiously as you stared up at him with a small smile. “I’m fairly certain you could charm the pants off of a mannequin if you tried. Why are you so nervous that you’ll say the wrong thing?”

“I assumed you were a prostitute when we first met,” he said glumly, pout growing bigger as you giggled, thinking back to when you first met the blond in front of you.

“You did,” you agreed. “But I would hope you’ve learned your lesson about assuming things about other people and then voicing them.”

“Yeah, I have,” he muttered. “But I still don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing either when I first moved to Maverick,” you told him, smoothing your thumb on the back of his hand. “I was scared too, then. I didn’t know what to expect or how people would act, but I did my best. That’s all I expect from you.”

Jake smiled at you softly, squeezing your hand lightly.

“Besides,” you smirked, “rattlesnakes still have teeth to fight off the coyotes.”

Jake laughed at that, and you felt a flitter in your stomach at the sound. You heard footsteps coming down the hall, and you quickly pulled away from him just as Uncle Walter turned around the corner. He looked up, stopping in surprise when he saw Jake standing in front of you.

“You’re still here,” he said, causing the tips of Jake’s ears to turn bright pink yet again. You were surprised they hadn’t stayed that way permanently yet.

“I was just wishing Scout a pleasant time out with her friend,” he said quickly, Uncle Walter humming.

“Alright, well, let’s be off!” Uncle Walter grinned, clapping Jake on the back as he passed. Jake gave one last look your way, smiling as you offered him a small wave. You turned to grab your gloves from where you had set them on the side table when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned around to see Aunt Jo looking at you knowingly, a hint of a smile on her lips.

“Jake is a very fine young man,” she stated. You felt your cheeks heat up, turning your attention back to your gloves in an attempt to distract yourself.

“He is,” you replied. Aunt Jo hummed, walking closer to you.

“He seems very taken with you,” she pressed. “And you with him.”

“I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about, Aunt Jo,” you scoffed, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. “Jake is just a dear friend.”

“Of course he is, dear,” she smiled. “However, there was only one dear friend I ever looked at that fondly, and we’ve been together for thirty years now.”

“Is there a point to this, Aunt Jo?” You blushed, unable to meet her gaze.

“No point at all, dear,” she hummed, barely suppressing her smirk as she waved you off. “Go and have a nice time, Scout. Give my warmest regards to Lucy.”

“You must tell me all about the west!” Lucy cried excitedly, practically bouncing in her seat. Several of the older patrons gave her nasty looks, and you placed a hand on top of hers to calm her down. You gave the other patrons an apologetic smile before turning your attention back to the redhead in front of you.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed. “What do you want to know?”

“How is your brother?”

“He’s staying busy. Won’t tell me what business he’s been dealing in, so don’t even ask. He bought one thousand acres of land to start a ranch on,” you hummed, sipping your tea. Lucy’s eyes widened.

“One thousand acres?” She exclaimed. “A ranch? What does Benjamin know about running a ranch?”

“I said the same thing,” you admitted, “but he’s surprisingly adept at it. It’s hard work, but it leaves one with a sense of pride to see everything that’s been accomplished at the end of the day.”

“I’m not surprised you’ve taken to life out in the west so easily,” she teased. “You always were a wild thing at heart. I don’t know if you were ever truly happy here.”

“Of course I was,” you argued, brow furrowing. “How could you say something like that? I loved my life here. I loved my family, my friends, my charities. I didn’t want to give any of that up.”

“Because you never had that twinkle in your eye that I see in it now,” she said softly, placing a hand over where yours rested on the table. “I know you loved all of those things, I do, but seeing how you talk about your new life? I can see now that you were never truly happy here. You always wanted to go and wrestle with the boys and you were never truly interested in things deemed fit for a ‘proper lady,’ and that’s okay!”

“You seem to have given this some thought,” you grumbled, and Lucy chuckled.

“I have, yes,” she nodded. “Your aunt has shared yours and your brother’s letters, and thought it breaks my heart to say so, it’s clear to me that out west is where you belong.”

“Oh, Lucy,” you murmured, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. Her smile quickly turned into a wide smirk as she leaned into you.

“Now tell me about this cowboy Benjamin mentioned in his letters,” she whispered. You nearly choked on your tea, coughing as you fought to regain your breath. Lucy patted you on the back gently until you gained back control of your airwaves.

“What about him?” You asked weakly.

“Is he handsome? Is he charming? Is he rugged? Does he have a gun? How wild is he compared to the other cowboys? What-”

“Slow down,” you laughed. “His name is Jake, for starters.”

“Jake the cowboy,” she mused. “What’s he do for a living?”

You took another sip of your tea with a snort. “What, is ‘cowboy’ not good enough?”

She glared at you, and you sighed.

“He’s working on our ranch.”

“How romantic,” Lucy sighed, eyes softening at the idea. “I’m sure he’s a vision walking around in leather.”

“Lucy!” You chided her, looking around to make sure no one saw. She giggled, but before she could say anything else, the smile dropped from her face as she glanced behind you. You felt a presence at your back, and you turned to see a familiar face.

“Henry?” You blinked in shock. Henry had been courting you before you moved to Maverick, and he hadn’t taken it all that well. He was a handsome man with dark hair and baby blue eyes. You had known him your entire life, much like Lucy, as your fathers had been boyhood friends. He had an air of charm about him that was outmatched only by Jake’s. Dimples framed the smile he cast down at you.

“It’s so good to see you again, Scout,” he greeted you. You gave him a thin-lipped smile back, casting an anxious glance at Lucy who was staring daggers into Henry’s profile. “I heard you were back in town.”

“I am, yes,” you replied stiffly. “Only for the holiday and then I’ll be heading back to Maverick.”

“A shame,” he hummed, sitting down next to you as Lucy scowled at him. “I was hoping this would be a more permanent arrangement. One that would benefit the both of us.”

“I have no intention of moving back to Baltimore at this time,” you told him curtly. His smile faltered, but he quickly regained his composure.

“I see, well you still have plenty of time to change your mind,” he chuckled. “I’m assuming I’ll be seeing you at Lucy’s party tonight?”

You shot a look at the redhead who’s scowl turned into a full-blown glare at his words. “I wasn’t aware she was having a party.”

“I was going to tell you about it as soon as we finished talking about more important things,” she hissed. Henry hummed, moving to stand.

“It was good chatting with you, Scout,” he smirked, taking your hand and placing a light kiss to the back. “I look forward to seeing you this evening.”

“I hate that man,” Lucy growled as he walked out of earshot. “I don’t know why you even entertained the idea of marrying him.”

You sighed, looking at her wearily. “You know why.”

“I do,” she admitted in a grumble. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“I don’t much like it either,” you replied. “But the past is the past. We should get going. You have a party to finish preparing for and I need to go get ready for it.”

“You’re right,” she murmured before perking up. “Be there by seven o’clock! And bring your cowboy with you!”

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you. You had asked Michael to make sure that Jake was ready to leave by 6:45, Lucy’s home not too far away from your own, but wanting to get there a little early. You had been dressed and ready to go five minutes before. You wore a long-sleeved gown, the dark blue top ending at your waist and flowing into a mossy green skirt. You wore a pair of emerald earrings and a small diamond pendant along with it, and your hair was pulled back into a simple, braided bun. You had forgotten how good it felt to dress up for social gatherings. You had been smoothing down the skirt of your dress when you heard footsteps enter the room behind you. You turned to look, and that’s when you saw him.

Jake wore a black waistcoat with a matching coat atop a pair of beige trousers. He held a hat in his left hand and a pair of dress gloves in the other. You knew you were staring, but you couldn’t stop. Jake fidgeted under your gaze, cheeks flushing as he waited for you to say something.

“Is it that bad?” He asked quietly, unsurely, so unlike his usual confidant self. You snapped your mouth shut, shaking your head as your own blush began to spread up your neck and onto your cheeks.

“No,” you stated. “No, you look very handsome.”

He smirked at that, walking to a stop just in front of you. “You look beautiful tonight, Scout.”

You felt your cheeks grow warmer, and you ducked your head.

“We should get going,” you murmured, glancing up at him. He stared down at you, eyes twinkling.

“Alright,” he said quietly, slowly moving to let you lead the way.

The carriage ride to Lucy’s was silent, and the two of you got there with plenty of time to spare. Jake offered you a hand as you stepped out of the carriage, and you took it, smiling at him gratefully. The head butler greeted you at the door, taking your coats before escorting you to the parlor where several people were already gathered. Lucy spotted you and walked over to you excitedly.

“You made it!” She grinned, taking your hands in hers. Her eyes darted behind you, widening when they saw Jake. “Is this the cowboy?”

He chuckled behind you, taking her hand and in his to shake it. Lucy gasped at the gesture, shooting you an awkward glance. “Jake is just fine, miss.”

“And Lucy will do just fine for you as well,” she smiled. She gestured for the two of you to make your way farther into the room. The two of you followed her, and Jake leaned down to whisper to you.

“What was that reaction about?”

You leaned up slightly to answer him. “It’s polite to let the lady initiate the handshake,” you whispered back at him. He hummed, following dutifully as Lucy came to a stop beside the fireplace.

“Scout, you remember Diana and Andrew?” She said, gesturing to the pair of brunettes by the mantle. The Barclay twins were a pretty pair. Andrew stood half a head taller than Diana, but the resemblance was uncanny. Big, dark brown eyes stared at you and Jake as they took you in.

“Of course,” you smiled at them. Diana smiled back at you while Andrew nodded. “It’s been too long.”

“It has, hasn’t it?” Diana drawled, looking around. “No brother of yours?”

“I’m afraid not,” you responded politely. Her eyes turned to the man behind you.

“And you might be?” She smirked, reaching out her hand to Jake. Jake took it, giving her a polite smile.

“Jake Seresin.”

“Seresin,” Andrew hummed. “I’ve never heard that name. Where do you come from?”

“I was born and raised in the New Mexico territories,” Jake said. The chatter died down as the partygoers looked on in intrigue.

“A cowboy?” Someone asked, and the whispers started up across the room.

Jake chuckled, slipping into his charming persona as he let his eyes wander around the room. “Y’all make it sound much more exciting than it actually is,” he drawled.

“Scout?”

You stiffened at the voice, turning to see Henry approaching you from the far side of the room.

“Henry,” you acknowledged him, feeling Jake’s eyes dart between the two of you. You grabbed a glass of wine from the side table, needing something to take the edge off of what you were sure was to come and also needing something to keep your hands occupied. You chanced a glance at Jake who was already frowning at the man before you. Henry stood before you dressed in his evening best as he looked you over, giving a nod of approval that had you suppressing an eye roll. You settled for pressing your lips into a thin line instead.

“I’m glad you could come tonight,” he smiled, and you wondered how you ever considered it to be swoon worthy once.

“Of course,” you hummed. “It’s Lucy’s party after all.”

“Yes,” he said, turning his attention to the blond behind you. “And who’s your friend here?”

“Jake Seresin,” he said coolly, eyeing Henry up and down. Henry did the same before extending a hand out.

“Henry Cargill.”

The two men shook hands for a brief moment before letting go.

“So,” Henry began, “how do you know Scout here?”

“I work on her and her brother’s ranch.”

“A ranch hand?” Henry chuckled, brows darting up on his forehead in surprise. “What a charming profession you have, sir.”

“What is it you do?” Jake asked him with a narrow of his eyes.

“Me?” Henry clucked. “I’m working at my father’s bank. One day I’ll inherit it.”

“Something he reminds us about all the time,” Lucy chimed in with a vicious smirk towards Henry, who looked mildly put out by her comment.

“There’s no shame in what a man has,” he sniffed, looking back at Jake. “Especially when he’s looking for a wife.”

“How exactly do you and Scout know each other?” Jake asked, causing another wave of whispers to break out amongst the spectating crowd. You frowned as Henry guffawed, throwing his head back.

“You call her Scout?” He grinned, causing Jake to frown in confusion.

“Doesn’t everyone?” He asked, glancing down at you uncertainly. You glared at Henry as he continued.

“No, my friend, they do not. Only close friends and family call her that, and you don’t seem to me to be either,” he smirked.

“Which category do you fall under?” Jake asked with a raise of his eyebrow. Henry’s smirk became almost triumphant as he puffed his chest out.

“Neither,” he stated proudly. “Scout and I are practically engaged.”

Jake whipped around to look at you as the murmuring grew around the room. You slammed your glass down onto the table before fixing Henry with a venomous look. “No, we are not.”

“We were courting until you left all those months ago,” Henry reminded you, but you weren’t having it.

“And I’ll remind you that nothing came of it,” you spat. “You never proposed, and I left to move west. What’s done is done.”

“I’m surprised you feel that way after everything,” he frowned. “What would your father say?”

You stilled at that, and the room fell silent. You felt the prickle of tears behind your eyes and you blinked furiously to try and hold them back. You let out a shaky breath before turning to Jake who was already looking at you with troubled eyes. When he saw the tears on your lash line, he looked up. If looks could kill, Henry would have been six feet under in seconds.

“I know we just got here,” you said quietly, holding the tears back by sheer force of will, “but I’m suddenly not feeling well. Would you escort me home?”

Jake turned back to look at you with a soft expression, glancing over by where Lucy stood. You saw her nod slightly, and he looked back at you.

“Of course, pretty girl,” he murmured. “Anything for you.”

The two of you departed from the house, and the carriage ride home was filled with a much different kind of silence.

“Scout,” Jake murmured, reaching out to you, but you shook your head.

“Don’t,” you sobbed, finally letting the tears flow. Jake hesitated. “Please, just don’t. Not right now.”

The two of you said nothing more until you walked into the house. You handed your coat to one of the maids who looked after you worriedly as you made your way towards the stairs.

“Goodnight, honey girl.”

You stopped halfway up the staircase, your heart clenching tighter in your chest. You thought back on Henry’s words and their meaning. You turned to fix Jake with a forlorn expression, and you saw him gasp at the sight. You stared at each other for a few moments before you offered him a timid, watery smile.

“Goodnight, Jake.”

You crouched in the snow, inspecting the indented trunk of a tree. It had been a week since the night of the party, and you had thrown yourself into charity events and social gatherings, effectively leaving Jake to spend time with Uncle Walter and Cousin John. The two had made plans with some of the other men in their social group to go out hunting, and you had been invited along with some of the other wives and sisters.

“What’s it look like, Scout?” John called over to you. You straightened up, turning around to face the hunting party.

“Looks like beavers,” you replied, turning to peer into the trees. “We should set up some traps along the river. I saw some fresh deer droppings not too far back as well. They probably haven’t gone far.”

“It’s a shame that child wasn’t born a man,” you heard one wife murmur to another. You frowned. You knew your skills were practically wasted on you, you certainly heard it often enough. Your father had never made you feel inadequate though, rather he encouraged your gift for tracking and hunting. He took you out as often as he could, showing you how to set different traps and the best way for stalking prey unnoticed. You had always enjoyed doing it because it was time spent with the man you loved most. The one who made you feel safe and encouraged you to pursue your interests and wants.

“Impressive as always, Scout,” Henry called from off to the side. You ignored him, making your way quietly into the woods. You stepped quickly but carefully as you moved deeper into the trees, listening for any sound amongst the stillness. You heard a twig crack behind you, and you turned to see a whitetail deer picking at the patch of frozen grass to your right. You slowly brought your rifle up to the crook of your shoulder, taking aim at the deer. Another twig snapped to your left, startling the deer who took off. You whirled around to see Jake looking at you sheepishly, hands raised as you glared at him.

“Dammit, Jake!” You cursed. “That was a perfect shot!”

“Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. The tip of his nose was beet red and his cheeks were close to matching. You imagined he must be miserable out there in the snow. You huffed as you looked after where the deer had run off. If you hurried, you could probably catch back up with it.

“Scout.”

You turned back to look at him, seeing him frown at you with a worried expression. You raised an eyebrow at him, signaling for him to continue.

“I wanted to talk to you about the other night,” he began, but you shook your head.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Scout,” he started again, and you let out a frustrated groan, feeling your control begin to snap.

“What do you want to hear Jake?” You snapped. “Do you want to hear how Henry and I have known each other our entire lives? How our fathers were best friends as kids?”

His eyes widened as you began to stalk towards him in your rage.

“Do you want to hear how I allowed my mother to mold me into a proper young lady despite how much I hated it? Or how I allowed myself to be pushed towards Henry by my father because the thought of disappointing him destroys me? Nothing would have made him happier than to see his daughter and his best friend’s son get married one day. He would have been so disappointed to know that I left and gave up the life he wanted for me. Not to mention my mother! She wanted me to be happy-”

He cut you off. “What makes you happy?”

“What?” You blink up at him, just then noticing the tears that were falling down your face.

“What makes you happy, Scout?” He asked you again quietly, studying you. You stared up at him, taking in the different hues of green that made up his eyes, the quiet sincerity they held.

“I don’t…” You trailed off with a frown. Jake took a deep breath.

“I’ll tell you what makes me happy,” he murmured, moving closer to you so that the puffs of your breaths intermingled. “It makes me happy when I beat Bradley and Javy at darts. It makes me happy when I feel the wind in my hair as I ride Whiskey. It makes me happy knowing that you moved to town all those months ago. It makes me happy when you chew my ass out the way I deserve instead of swoonin’ over me like all the other girls do.”

You sobbed out a laugh, and he smiled softly, resting his forehead against yours. He reached up to cradle your jaw in his hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

“It makes me happy,” he continued, “when you say I look handsome. It makes me happy when you laugh at something I say. It makes me happy when that nose of yours wrinkles when you scowl at me. It makes me happy when you let me hold you like this. It makes me happy when you let me feel and see all of you.”

You blushed at that, and he closed his eyes with a hum, gently swaying the two of you from side to side.

“You make me happy, Scout,” he sighed. “You make me happier than I’ve been in a long, long time. I want to spend the rest of my life finding out all the things there are to know about you, and even then I’ll still want more of you.”

He opened his eyes, meeting your gaze with a mixture of desperation and stoicism.

“That’s what makes me happy,” he whispered, pulling away from you. He moved past you, walking to join back up with the hunting party. You stared after him, feeling now more than ever, torn between duty and happiness.

The hunting party returned to your aunt and uncle’s house a few hours later. John shot the deer in the end. You had been lost in your thoughts the remainder of the day, and if anyone noticed your sudden change in mood, they didn’t mention it. You started making your way up the staircase to change into your evening gown when a hand caught your wrist. You turned, frown deepening when you saw Henry.

“Scout,” he smiled up at you from a few steps down, “might I request your company in the library for a moment?”

Your eyes flickered to the other guests who were gathering their things to leave. You nodded at him slowly before turning fully to follow him to the library. You looked over once more as you hit the base of the stairs to see Aunt Josephine watching the two of you with a slight frown. Henry led you to the fireplace at the far end of the spacious room before turning to you and taking your hand in his.

“Scout,” he began, “I know things haven’t always been the best between us, but like you said, what’s done is done. And you’re right, I didn’t propose to you back then, but I’ve had your father’s blessing from the start, and when I found out you were coming back to town, I asked your uncle for his, and he gave it. So, Scout…”

He dropped down to one knee, and your eyes grew wide, a sinking feeling twisting in your stomach as he pulled out a large, diamond ring. “Henry-”

“Scout, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

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bluebblurry · 1 year

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The Bad Boys and their soulmates

(Someone already made something like this but i wanna write my own lmao.)

“Etho.” Joel nearly spat out the name like it was poisonous. It no longer came with a soft gaze, but rather his own reflection in pitch black sunglasses. Joel’s bangs covered his eyebrows, and his mouth was set in an indifferent line. How was Etho supposed to read him like this..?

“Hi Joel!” Etho greeted anyway, his voice chipper and smiley. “I’m likin’ the leather vest. It really works for you.”

Joel huffed, his sword disappearing from his hand. He didn’t blush, like he used to when Etho would compliment him, only kept the same guarded expression.

How dare he keep playing with my emotions like this! Joel quietly seethed. Etho was being cruel– pitying him. Joel clenched his fists. He knew he never meant anything to Etho, they had been stuck together. So why, oh why, did Etho have to keep hurting him like this?

“Etho,” Joel tried again, his voice darker this time, “once I hit red, you are done for.” It was both a threat and a promise.

Etho smirked, nothing innocent in his eyes. “Hmm.. you gonna ravish me with charged Red passion..?” He teased. He knew Joel didn’t mean it like that, but he was desperately hoping it would break whatever wall Joel was trying to build between them.

Joel didn’t even react. At least, that’s how it seemed to Etho. Joel’s insides were burning, with excitement or anger he wasn’t sure. He scoffed. “Just watch your back.” He nearly growled.

The air was charged with buzzing static, and Etho hated it.

*****

“Jimmy!” Jimmy heard his name being whisper-shouted. He glanced at his two teammates asleep in the triple bed. If it wasn’t them, then who would be calling for him in the middle of the night??

“Jim!!” The voice spoke again, a little louder. Jimmy’s sleep-deprived mind raced through the list of server members, trying to think of who could possibly need him. He huffed quietly, figuring it was someone looking for an easy prank target. Until..

“My rancher, are you up there..?”

It was Tango.

IT WAS TANGO!!

Jimmy bolted out of bed and nearly sprinted to the edge of the roof. He peered over the edge, and sure enough, there was his rancher, looking cute and very dapper in a red button down, black waistcoat, and matching black bowtie.

Jimmy smiled brightly and jumped down, water bucket in hand. He landed (not-so-gracefully) in front of Tango, instantly running up and tackling him in a giant bear hug.

Jimmy couldn’t fly here, but his wings wrapped around Tango, encasing him in a golden yellow double hug. He buried his face in the blaze’s neck, melting when he felt Tango start to purr. His tail curled around Jimmy’s ankles, just as gentle and soft as it’s always been.

Timmy and Tango had agreed not to team this season, but that didn’t stop them from missing each other.

*****

They made peace with their desert a long time ago, but they both knew they’d never have that same connection again. Especially after Grian’s.. choices in Double Life.

Scar stared up at the stupid woodland mansion, flint and steel in hand. He was still bitter. Maybe he should be going after Big B too, but Grian.. how could he just do that to him..? Sure, things weren’t the same as in Third Life, but did he really mean that little to Grian?

“Scar..?” He heard a whisper from the tree line. He whipped around, seeing the very avian he’d just been thinking of. Though, Grian didn’t look the same here. The white button down he’d taken to wearing under his sweater was gone, taking away the nice little nod to Mumbo that Scar liked to think of it as. He had a leather jacket, too big and too edgy for him. The dark glasses on top of his head were odd to see against his normally fluffy blond hair.

Grian didn’t look right like this.. without a red and white poncho and sand goggles.

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anarchy-n-glitter · 1 month

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The Good, The Bad, and...

Summary: Lucy and The Ghoul encounter a shadowy figure from his past while on their way to New Vegas. This stranger, nicknamed Red Eyes, is intent on collecting a bounty on The Ghoul as a means to settle a feud between the two after they were betrayed by him. Will Red Eyes succeed, or will they have a change of heart based on their complicated feelings toward the man? (Cooper Howard x OC/reader) Words: 2,941

A/N: I forgot to post chapter 1 of this on here sorry guys. Anyway this is low key a Star Wars AU because as a Cad Bane fan I simply could not help myself so this is technically kind of a follow up to this fic. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

From the Desert Comes a Stranger

“I’ve taken down so many of dese clones over da years…” Her father began in his heavily accented manner, sighing, and pushing his hat back with his pointer finger as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. The red of his irises were somehow muted by the red lenses of the goggles he wore, which made it hard to see the look in his eyes as it was. He quickly dropped to his knees and with a single swipe of his knife he removed something from the clone’s body. She couldn’t quite make out what it was before he pocketed it.

He turned around quickly, pointing his gloved finger up at her. She straightened up.

“Now, Ciella, what ya need to know is…” He handed her the bloodied knife, closing her fingers around the hilt and holding her smaller hand in his. It was one of the only times he made a tender gesture towards her other than the odd hug here and there.

“Once you figure out one da rest are easy.” She had to wonder what the point of all this was.

When they arrived on the site - an old, decrepit warehouse with a caved-in roof - her father was quick to corner the clone that now lay dying before them. He tried his best to grab the gun that was strapped to his leg, fumbling with it and managing to point it in her father’s general direction before he was gunned down. Two shots in the chest from the looks of it, shots that left the man (clone) heaving and wheezing on the floor with blank eyes, and she knew that’s what he wanted to happen. If he wanted to shoot the man in the head he would have. He was the fastest shot in the Wasteland, and it would stay that way for many years.

“Now, I want ya to take dat knife dere and,” He finally stood and moved her closer to the dying man. “Yer gonna have to cut his throat, unless ya want to hear him scream. I’m not against it but it’s best dat we keep him quiet. Don’t want any stragglers comin’ in and takin’ us by surprise.”

Ciella drew in a deep breath as she knelt down beside the man. His blank eyes suddenly held so much emotion, it was a look she’d seen in her own eyes a few times before. Mostly on dark nights in the Jewel as she listened to the way men spoke to her mother… and the way her father spoke to her at times. It was the look she saw in the mirror after she saw how her mama took care of those men - their purple, mangled faces contorted in pain and their eyes bloodshot staring up at her, and their hands clutched around their throats.

This man was in pain, and he was afraid of dying.

There was a large tattoo on the side of his face, around his eye. It was a symbol, most likely belonging to whatever faction he belonged to since escaping his vault. From what she overheard her dad discussing, Vault 66 seemed to be defunct, with the clones created within revolting and escaping into the Wasteland. He had been hunting down the clones for the last five years, among other things. She never quite understood why anyone would flee a vault to live on the surface.

Her father took the respirator off of his face, letting it hang below his chin. She felt more at ease at this, happy to hear his own, unmodified voice walking her through what she was about to do. Her heart was beating fast and felt like it had leapt into her throat. She glanced at the open ceiling and focused on the large, white moon that hung in the deep blue sky.

Perhaps the sky full of swirling stars would be enough to comfort her.

“When he’s dead, cut off da part of his face with da tattoo and hand it to da Tin-Man. Den we can go home.” He instructed. Ciella hesitated.

The clone looked at her, stared her down, silently begging her for mercy. He was just a clone, and he was wanted so he must have done something bad, right? She looked back at her dad, who had pushed his goggles up onto his forehead, revealing his bright red eyes staring back at her expectedly. Tufts of navy blue hair peeked out from under his hat and over his goggles and his lips were curved into a small smile.

He actually looked like a supportive father for the first time in his life.

Ciella made her decision at that moment, and the girl at only eight years old turned around and drove the knife into the clone’s throat. His eyes widened and met her gaze for a moment and she felt her heart drop. He groaned and wheezed, the blood gurgling in his throat as the crimson substance dribbled from the corners of his mouth. A sputtering cough had his blood spraying across her face and she wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not. She tried not to heave at the disgusting feeling.

On instinct, she pulled the knife from his throat and drove it back into his flesh. Over and over. A larger, warmer hand wrapped around her wrist and stopped her mid motion.

“Dere ya go.” Her father smiled wider as pride swelled in his chest. His baby would be a killer, just like he was. “After dis I’ll teach ya everyding I know.”

☠☠☠☠☠☠☠

The sun bore down unbearably upon the duo traveling along the Mojave Desert. It had been miles and miles of desert between the Griffith Observatory and the place the Ghoul was certain Lucy’s father was heading. The vaultie was starting to fall behind, clearly tired from the constant moving. It was hard to find shelter all the way out here, and unfortunately for her the Ghoul didn’t feel comfortable stopping out in the open.

They had traveled through a few settlements at that point, each one growing more and more decrepit and sparse. The people were quieter and hid away in their own corners of the small towns, eyeing the Ghoul and his traveling companion wearily. The whispers and glares of the different townsfolk hardly made for good hospitality, if anything it was that fact that drove him away from each place. Something was happening, someone said something, and he felt it was too risky to stop for a few nights in any of the settlements.

The last place they’d been to was a day’s walk away at this point, and the talk amongst the people in that saloon made him deeply uncomfortable. Then there was the body.

In the sandy dunes of the last settlement they had been to laid a man with sun kissed skin and snow white hair stained at the temples with red. The poor man had his brains blown out, by who… well, let’s just say he had a good idea of who it was. It was clear the job was done quickly, the man clearly didn’t see them coming, and the fact the man’s armor and other supplies went untouched raised even more alarm bells. He got them out of there quickly and quietly.

Unfortunately for Lucy, the Ghoul was one-track minded at the moment. His family was out there, he could feel it. There was a reason he kept going for over two hundred years, and he would not let those years of anguish be in vain.

He would kill anyone who tried to get between them.

“There’s gotta be somewhere we can stop, right?” Lucy sounded hoarse, tired. He wished he could answer her truthfully. He hadn’t traveled this far into the desert before, and the way the sun seemed to hang so high in the sky for so long made him question whether anyone ventured that far, let alone set up shop. He shrugged.

The dunes seemed to stretch on for miles and miles, with only a few rocky formations on the horizon. A few dried plants littered the ground here and there, somehow finding the strength to grow in such a harsh climate. It was a wonder anything was able to grow and flourish after the bombs. Maybe he should have sent the vaultie to ask for some sort of transport back at the saloon instead of being stubborn like he usually was.

“Maybe that person’s coming from a settlement down that way?” The Ghoul froze, feeling himself go numb.

Among the dancing heatwaves stood a dark-clad figure on the horizon.

They stood still, any discernible features hidden by a wide-brimmed hat and respirator over the figure’s mouth. The wind blew and kicked up dust and whipped the figure’s coat to the side, revealing the large holster against their hip. Their dark attire starkly contrasted with the bright blue sky and pale sand.

The words of the men in the saloon ran through his mind.

Someone’s lookin’ for a ghoul just like ya! There was a bounty put out not too long ago, I think it’s been taken offa the board. A lotta caps goin’ for that guy. He considered that a warning at the time.

Anyway, it looked like the guy who took the bounty was Red Eyes. He had the goggles an’ everything, but we all thought he was dead.

And Red Eyes was supposed to be dead. He died around five or six years ago.

The figure in front of him was a ghost.

Red Eyes stopped a good twenty feet in front of them, standing perfectly still. The wind shifted again and from beneath the wide-brimmed hat came a tuft of navy blue hair that blew in the breeze. The desert was all too quiet now, and it felt like something from one of his old movies. Red Eyes felt like an old western villain, dark and ominous, seemingly a force of nature. He worried the figure wasn’t only after him.

“Lucy, you should head back.” The Ghoul muttered, putting a hand out to stop her from moving any further. She stared at the figure for a moment, suddenly afraid because of the Ghoul’s reaction.

“It’s only one person.” She muttered. “Maybe they’re lost?” The Ghoul stayed silent. He would not repeat himself.

Her doe-like eyes flickered to him and she noticed the way his mouth was set in a seemingly permanent frown. His whole body looked stiff, like a cornered animal. She nodded, understanding finally, before turning on her heel to make a run for it.

The Ghoul watched as the stranger glanced in Lucy’s direction. Red Eyes observed her, seemingly studying her like an unbothered predator eyeing a nearby animal knowing it couldn’t do anything to stop it. He grit his teeth and took a few steps forward, spurs jangling with each stride.

This was not good.

“Now I know that fancy getup you got on is not yours.” He began through a false bravado, flashing teeth that used to be a pearly white. It was so easy for him to slip back into a role, something he had been doing this entire time. Yet, this time, he was given the chance to play the good guy. It felt unfamiliar somehow, after all, it had been several years since he’d done such a thing. He was almost grateful for this stranger’s theatrics. “Who might you be? Cause you sure as hell ain’t Red Eyes… he’s dead.”

He knew all too well who this was.

Red Eyes looked up, the red goggles reflecting the bright sun and making it impossible to see past their lenses. More of the stranger’s hair seemed to flow from behind them, long strands of navy waving in the wind like a flag. Their stance shifted from one of leisure to subtly looking like they would pounce. The stranger moved their coat away from their hip, revealing the large gun strapped to their form.

“I’d be careful where I was sticking my nose if I were you.” The heavily modulated voice called out. “Or lack thereof.”

The Ghoul bit his tongue. “I’m assuming that corpse we found back there was you, then? Certainly wasn’t the handiwork of any ol’ fiend.”

“Wasn’t much work.” Red Eyes spat quickly. “Was a clone. They're easy. Woulda gotten in my way.” Their accent, even through the voice changer, was thick. Louisiana, most likely from the New Orleans area.

“You’re here for me.” He didn’t feel the need to ask. He threaded his thumbs through the belt loops on his trousers, opting to seem more relaxed than he was. He knew Red Eyes would see right through his guise.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Their hand twitched beside their gun. He eyed them wearily.

“Well, I’m not goin’ willingly.” A low, rumbling chuckle sounded from the stranger.

“I never said I was gonna take ya in alive.” They answered, voice cold with an edge to it. He fought the urge to argue, to call their bluff, for doing so would be too risky.

Truthfully, Red Eyes had every reason to want him dead. It had been a few years, five to be exact, since they last saw each other. Five long years since he turned the fellow bounty hunter in for killing a crime lord. Five years since he left them for dead. This would be a fitting end for their little rivalry, even if it wasn’t always that way.

But he wouldn’t go down just yet. Not without a fight.

He had to find another way to fight them. A quick draw duel would mean a death sentence for him, unfortunately. Red Eyes was and still is the quickest draw in the Wasteland. He would have to throw them off somehow, say something to really disarm them.

He did the only thing he could think of, and instead of indulging in the stranger - instead of going for his gun - words that he never thought he would say slipped from his dry, cracked lips.

“Ciella, I’m sorry.”

Red Eyes froze. Their hand was still dangerously close to their gun’s grip. Over the wind, he vaguely heard the sharp, uneven intake of air from the figure. The breeze picked up again, blowing open the stranger’s coat to reveal the figure of a woman.

“It’s a bit late fer that, isn’t it, cher?” It most definitely was her. “I came ta finish the job. I shoulda known a coffin wouldn’t hold yer ass.”

Cooper held back a laugh. Ciella Bane was an ally at one point, and maybe even a friend, but the moment her picture was up on one of those boards he knew their partnership was over. Someone was offering a hefty reward for whoever could bring the bounty brat in, preferably alive.

That was his mistake. He knew he probably should have killed her while she was sleeping and taken the smaller reward for her corpse. Killing her like this would be a pain in the ass.

“You wanna take off that ridiculous getup and let me see you?” He taunted, much to Ciella’s dismay. He just had to hit her where it hurt, get her emotional and in her head so she missed when she inevitably shot at him. However, it had been a few years, he couldn’t be sure that trick would still work.

Though with dear ol’ daddy not around to give her more of his tips and tricks he doubted she would have improved much more than the last time they brawled.

Ciella scoffed. “The last thing you’ll see are these goggles. Everyone’s gotta know it was Red Eyes who took ya out, ghoul.” She spat, though there was a sadistic playfulness in her voice. Cooper rolled his eyes.

“I got places to be, girl.” Cooper countered with equal venom. He was getting antsy, and he felt she was wasting his time. “Let us through and…” He stopped.

What would he do? What could he do? What could he possibly offer her where she wouldn’t be on his trail while he and Lucy trekked the Wasteland on a wild goose chase? Ciella coming back from whatever corner of the world she ran off to after burying him alive was the last thing he wanted.

“Let us through and we can finish this some other time. I’ll tell you where I’ll be and you come find me.” He offered finally, feeling the weight of his words in his chest. He wouldn’t give up finding his family so she could have her petty revenge, but maybe one day, when everyone around him was gone and he knew his daughter was safe and could live a happy life, he would go to Ciella and let her put him out of his misery.

“We do this here and now.” The bounty hunter replied. “That head o’ yers is fetchin’ a pretty penny. Figured it was better I did it than some chem addicted fiend on the street.” Her words were purposefully inflammatory. She was doing the same thing he was.

She straightened up again, mimicking the stance of a cowboy in a western getting ready to draw, and Cooper knew what it meant. She wasn’t giving him a choice. They’d done this dance once before, and unfortunately for him it didn’t end well.

The Ghoul sighed and moved his coat from his holster, and he mirrored her stance. “This ain’t gonna go the way ya think it will, sweetheart.”

“I doubt that.” That same, robotic voice answered, yet he knew she was still all too human underneath.

#cooper howard x oc #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #star wars au #fallout fanfic #cooper howard #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x oc #fallout #cad bane mention!!!#so #cad bane #fallout tv series

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kometqh · 2 months

Text

𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐔𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Captain Rex x Reader Every waking moment you had to yourself, you spent on trying to remember. To remember his touch. His voice, his warmth. His face and his eyes. But how could you when after so many years it's become nothing but a blur? And each time you're close, each time your mind drags back pieces of the puzzle together, you're interrupted. Word Count: 1,462 Warnings: Angst A/N: This idea came to me whilst listening to Once Upon A Dream from Sleeping Beauty and I couldn't help myself but vomit words onto screen, I hope whoever reads this enjoys this because I loved the idea TT

The city lights from below twinkled and burned brightly like the stars in the dark sky above. A miniscule smile rested atop your lips, a familiar gleam sparkling in your irises.

The cold autumn breeze flew past you, ruffling your unruly hair into an even more so, larger mess.

A blue, old scarf a size too big hugged and entangled your shoulders, floating up and down with the cold. Your fingers twiddled with the loose threads, feeling the coarse material between the pads of your fingers. It was a gift from him. The man from your dreams.

You used to love him. You used to miss him. You used to wait for him.

You used to walk with him,

Once upon a dream.

His hands used to be warm, his gaze so smitten.

That look in his eyes, was so familiar a dream.

His voice used to be so soft, his touch so tender.

Those visions of him, you knew they were seldom true.

His embrace endearing, his kisses slow and passionate, as though you were the most delicate flower he had ever the pleasure of finding.

His love was your hope, like that of a sprouting seedling in a vast desert. His scent was your calm, like the sound of rain pattering against glass. His voice a lullaby to your dreams.

And now all you had left of him was the old, scruffy, pale blue scarf.

And you loved it as much as you loved him and he loved you.

The faint scent of his cheap cologne still lingered. You had done your best to find the brand, but failed. How hard was it to find the same exact cheap cologne? Very, you had come to realise.

The Empire destroyed everything. It took him away, it destroyed his memory.

"Y/n?" His voice asked, but it wasn't his voice. This one had a husky timbre to it, as though he hadn't felt anything but the familiar burn of a cigar against his lips in a long time. It wasn't the same.

"Hunter?" Your voice came out soft, quiet as though he had interrupted an intimate moment you were having.

He took a long moment to continue, his gaze sturdy and focused on your figure.

"Someone's here to see you."

His eyes met yours as you shifted around, a brow raised questioningly. His shoulders stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. He knew what you were about to say.

"Tell them-"

"It's urgent," He interrupted, putting emphasis to his words, swallowing harshly as he felt his throat tighten, "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't," He paused again, this time his gaze dropping to the wet concrete beneath his feet, and suddenly he was all too aware of the loud pattering of the rain against his hair and the concrete, of the rough and short beats of your heart echoing in his ears, "Trust me." His gaze rose back to yours.

With a shake of your head, you pulled the scarf tighter around yourself. This was one of the few bits of time you had to yourself, that you could spend on thinking. Thinking of him.

Amongst the many missions and bounties, your mind always failed to remember him. The faces of his brothers, the different tones and accents and timbres, they all mixed and matched together until it was all a blur. At first, you were happy to be surrounded by Hunter and the Batch. But now you could barely remember the face of the man from your dreams.

The door creaked shut behind you, the sound of rain muffled by the all-too loud music of the bar below. You hated it. You could never focus with it on.

The heavy scent of alcohol lingered in the air, like a poisonous fog ready to fill your lungs and taint your blood. Your chest felt stuffy every time you were forced to be in the vicinity of the awful stench.

Hunter's heavy boots thudded against the concrete floor, his head hung low as he kept a fast. steady pace, refusing to give you enough opportunity to question him, enough chance to prod him where you needed to get your answers.

He wouldn't give in so easily even if you tried.

Not tonight.

Though it seemed you hadn't felt the need to ask.

Not tonight.

Your mind was in a different plane, a different galaxy. A distant past.

The hallway seemed to narrow down the longer you walked, winding around corners and staircase openings like a never-ending labyrinth. You were slowly becoming sick of it. Why was this building so dauntingly tall?

The walls seemed to be crumbling down and wailing for repair with each crack that extended down hallways, staircases and rooms. Grimaced faces were painted on the sickly orange walls, freshly patched spots grasping to hold the structure together as the building shook with the volume and vibrations of the music.

Hunter hated it too. But he could bare with this for a moment longer. For you.

His throat dried up as the door came into view, and his ears heard the way the pace of your heart picked up as he spoke, "They're behind that door."

His hands fell to his side, smearing the sticky sweat on his armoured thigh, and his steps slowed down, his own heart matching the pace of yours. You must have known by now, right?

"Who is it?" You asked as you came to an abrupt stop, just inches away from the door. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his. The two of you stared into each others eyes, silently communicating through the miniscule, atomic-like movements of your irises.

It wasn't hard to know what you were thinking. Nor what Hunter was.

Who is it? He imagined your voice to be soft, velvety like freshly cleaned cushions, the unsure tenderness of it warming his heart.

Go ahead and find out. You imagined his voice to be gravelly, like waves crashing against a sandy shore, the hum they left behind sending shivers down your spine.

With a soft sigh, you turned away from his towering frame.

Lifting a shaky hand, you turned the knob.

The door creaked uncomfortably, like the wornout strings of an old violin.

A gentle, dimmed light flooded the hallway, painting it a sickly shade of yellow. Was this a hotel or a pigsty?

You could almost taste the years worth of dust on the tip of your tongue.

The doorknob felt rough and weak under your touch, the dragged wood pressing against the pads of your fingers.

With a heavier push, the door managed to pull open, screeching in protest until it came to a final stop.

Your chest stopped heaving up and down as the air was caught in your throat.

A sudden lightheadedness hit you, eyelashes blinking rapidly as you tried to get a tighter grasp on the doorknob. For a moment, you scrunched your eyes shut, and fought away the dizziness that clamped around your temple like a pair of metal tongs.

When your eyes opened again, you felt a pair of arms get a hold your waist.

Was someone hugging you?

Maybe, you thought and as you slowly looked down, you noticed a pair of armoured arms wrapped around you. Hunter's arms.

Did you fall?

You couldn't feel your legs.

As you looked up again, it all dawned on you.

The man from your dreams.

At first, you only saw the faded maroon poncho. It was overly large, and clearly didn't fit. It looked old, tattered as loose threads stuck out at odd angles.

And then you glanced down. White armour clung to his legs, embracing his feet and shins and thighs.

Your gaze wondered up, spotting the helmet seated atop a bed behind him. Blue streaks dancing down the expanse of the white coat of paint. It lingered there, pricking at your heart strings as though wanting them to snap one by one.

It hurt.

Your chest was burning.

Your throat tightened, the painful drags of a wail tugging at your voice chords.

The arms around your waist tightened, a familiar head of ashy, chestnut brown hair tickling at your skin.

Where were you again?

Your eyes fluttered, blinking erratically as you fought to look up. Your mind couldn't let you.

You couldn't-

You couldn't rememeber his face.

A hand flew to your gaping mouth, covering the strangled whimper that erupted from deep within your chest, tearing at your throat as slowly, slowly you allowed your eyes to look up.

It hurt.

Did he always look so familiar? So.. Awfully perfect? So familiarly strange?

His warm, honey gold irises were locked onto you, wide and unblinking and disbelieving.

New wrinkles and aged lines dragged at his tanned skin, painting the picture of an abandoned, weary, scarred soldier, an abandoned and forgotten man.

His hair was still that beautiful blonde, his sun-kissed skin and chapped lips still brought out that awfully familiar, but long forgotten feeling in the pits of your stomach.

It's him.

It's-

"Rex?"

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jpmarvel90 · 11 months

Text

We're not your family anymore

Masterlist Nat Masterlist

Relationship: Natasha x Reader

Summary: Y/n is accused of killing Shield agents as is being held in power dampening cuffs despite her pleas that she is innocent.

Word Count: 4421

Y/N POV:

I had been a part of the Avengers for a little over a year now. Tony had taken me in after they saved me from a Hydra base. For 7 years I had been held captive, tortured and experimented on. Their “special” serum causing me to develop powers which Tony believed would be a benefit to the team.

At the beginning the team were sceptical of me and it took me a few months to be able to fully gain their trust and prove that I wasn’t a Hydra double agent. But eventually one by one I built great relationships with them all. Especially Natasha who, for the last 4 months, I’ve been dating.

It’s been amazing and I never thought I would feel happiness again like I do. With Nat I feel safe and loved and, although it’s still early, I’m sure that she is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.

Between Nat and Wanda, my best friend, they helped me be able to control my powers of telekinesis and control of the elements. Within no time I was able to use my powers effectively on missions that I was sent on.

Today I was being sent on a mission with the support of two SHEILD agents. Agents Patterson and Holbrook. I was packing my bag when I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist and smelt the familiar scent of gorgeous girlfriend.

“When do you leave?” Nat asked whilst planting soft kisses between my shoulder blades. “As soon as I’m packed, the Quinjet is waiting for me.” I turned in her arms so I was facing her and kissed her forehead. She hummed gently as she pulled me in to a tight hug whilst resting her head on my chest.

I loved this, although Nat has this tough exterior, she was never anything but loving and caring to me. Don’t get me wrong I know that she would kick my ass if she needed to, but it meant so much to me that she felt safe to be vulnerable around me.

As much as it pained me, I pulled away and looked into her piercing green eyes. “Be careful and come back to me.” She said, moving her hands to me waist. I gently placed my hands of her face and pulled her in to a soft yet passionate kiss. “I love you” I said into the kiss. “I love you too” she smiled, then grabbed my bag in one hand and pulled me towards the door with the other.

I boarded the Quinjet with one last loving kiss from girlfriend and was greeted by the two agents I’d be working with. I hadn’t met either of them before but Fury had sent them with me so I trusted his judgement.

The journey was quiet, we went over the mission brief to confirm our roles and settled in for the 4-hour journey to our location. Our mission was simple, download all of the information we could get from the Hydra base and get out. Steve was on comms back at the compound and was on standby if anything went wrong.

The mission started off smoothly, the three of us were able to get into the base with little resistant from the Hydra agents. Something felt wrong, I knew this mission was meant to be simple, but this was too easy. I pushed this uneasy feeling down and carried on until we reached the data room. Whilst Patterson and Holbrook provided cover, I plugged in the USB and began downloading all the information.

“Y/N I need an update, we’ve just lost the cameras!” Steve stated over comms. Shit I thought. This wasn’t going to be good. “We’re in the Data lab, just transferring the data now. Steve, something doesn’t feel right, we got in here too easily, we need…….” I suddenly felt a burning pain in my side, I turned to see Agent Patterson smirking as he pulled his knife out of my side.

“You didn’t think Hydra would let you get away with deserting us for the Avengers did you?” Now Agent Holbrook was stood over me as I fell to the floor. I tried to stand up and fight, but I was met by a swift fist to my jaw from Patterson. “Steve…” I called trying to active my comms. “It’s no use Y/L/N, he can’t hear you anymore.” My eyes became heavy and before I could even start to work out a plan I feel into unconsciousness.

Time skip

I started to wake, squinting my eyes as I adjusted to the bright lights. I sat up and lifted my hand to my face, only to notice I was in cuffs. The panic quickly pulled me out of hazy state. I sat up and hissed at the pain in my side. But that was the least of my concerns right now, I recognised this place. I was in the cells back at the Avengers compound.

What’s going on, I manage to pull myself to my feet to stand and make my way to the edge of the cell. I feel weak, these cuffs are blocking my powers and I know the longer I’m in them the worse this is going to get.

Whilst I’m in my confused state Steve approaches my cell. “Why did you do it Y/N? Why did you kill them? We trusted you!” Kill who, what is he on about? He looks angry, I’ve not seen Steve look like this since I first join. “Steve, what are you talking about? I didn’t kill anybody!” I tried to stay calm as I could not wanting to aggravate him more. “Don’t play dumb Y/N, Patterson and Holbrook, they’re dead you killed them. For a year you’ve been working with us, became friends with us for what, just to betray us!”

Oh god, did I kill them? “Steve, please you have to believe me, they were part of Hydra, Patterson stabbed me in punishment for joining you. I passed out and they were still alive, I swear!” I was getting more desperate now. But things just got worse as I saw Nat stood in the corner of the room observing me. I no longer saw the love in her eyes. She looked betrayed.

She stepped forward into the light. I could feel the warm tears start to fall down my face. “Y/N, there is no point in lying anymore. For a year you’ve hidden who you really were, you got close to each of us. Did I mean nothing to you?! You’ve betrayed us!” She shouted the last statements. “Nat, please I love you, I didn’t do this, please you have to believe me! You saved me, I was lost and broken but you gave me a chance to do good and have a family.” I was nearly sobbing by now. How could she not believe me? “We’re not your family anymore.” She almost whispered and with that her and Steve turned their back on me and left.

How could this happen, how could they not believe me or even give me a chance to explain everything? I slid to the floor and brough my knees to my chest as I sobbed. Everything was falling apart and the people I cared about most had given up on me.

I had no idea how long I had been in this cell now, it must have been at least a week. I was weaker than ever. The cuffs had shut off my powers and it was slowly killing me. With no way to use my powers, the serum Hydra had injected me with was poisoning my blood.

No one had come to see me and I had no chance to try and put my case across again. An unknown agent would come down with my food twice a day, but I had no appetite anymore. I had no desire to carry on when the people I love had given up on me. I just sat in the corner of my cell waiting for the inevitable to happen.

A few days passed and I could barely keep myself conscious anymore. I was finding it harder to tell what was real and what I was hallucinating. I knew it was only a matter of hours until I succumbed to my permanent slumber. I was ready now. I just wanted to shut my eyes and for all of this to end. The pain I felt at losing the only family I ever had was too much, I had nothing to hold on for anymore.

I spent this time trying to remember the happy moments in my life. My first date with Nat, the first time I could control my powers with Wanda, and the team movies nights where everything just felt normal. With that I felt a pain in my heart, knowing that they no longer saw me as family. Nat’s love had disappeared, and I was the enemy to them now, an inconvenience for all them all. I was ending my life how I had started it, alone. Silent tears fell down my cheeks and I fell into unconsciousness.

Nat’s POV:

“Just let me go and see her! She’s my best friend. Let me read her mind and we can find out the truth!” Wanda was pacing around the common room whilst begging me to go and see Y/N for the 3rd time today. “Wanda, you know you’re not allowed down there. Fury is right, we don’t know what she’s capable of, we can’t be sure what you would see would even be the truth.” I was getting frustrated now. I was tired of having the same argument over again. “That’s bullshit and you know it Nat. Y/N never even worked for Hydra, she was held captive, hell I did more damage against you guys than she ever has! Please just let her explain.”

“No Wanda, she lied to us for a whole year!” I yelled. I couldn’t understand how she was still trying to defend Y/N. “If she was a double agent don’t you think she would have been trying to do more damage than just kill two random agents? How many opportunities did she have to kill one of us?! I thought you of all people would have given her a chance to talk, to let her explain!” This angered me, Y/N had lied to me, made me fall in love with her for it all to be fake. But that last comment hit me harder than I thought. I did just walk away, for a moment when I stood in her cell I thought I saw fear in Y/N’s eyes. But she was with Hydra for 7 years, she easily would have been able to manipulate us.

I was hurt, I really love Y/N. I had felt so comfortable when I was with her. She had never judged my past and supported me through my nightmares and when missions went wrong. She never hesitated to drop everything if I needed her. She was my everything even though we had only been together for 4 months. This betrayal hurt more than I could have imagined.

Before I got lost in my thoughts Steve walked in and broke my trance. “We’ve managed to get the camera footage from the Hydra base.” I took a shaky breath as I followed Steve and Wanda to the meeting room. I don’t think I’m prepared to watch the love of my life take those agents’ lives.

Third person POV:

The whole team sat around the table as Tony started to play the footage. Tension filled the room as the truth started to unfold.

Y/N, Agent Patterson and Holbrook entered the Data room and Y/N runs straight to the main computer to start downloading the data. After a few minutes Y/N responded to Steve’s comms update “We’re in the Data lab, just transferring the data now. Steve, something doesn’t feel right, we got in here too easily, we need…….” And in that moment Agent Patterson sunk a blade into Y/N’s stomach.

“You didn’t think Hydra would let you get away with deserting us for the Avengers did you?” Patterson snarled to Y/N as she fell to the floor. Y/N tried to stand up and fight, but she was met by a swift fist to her jaw knocking her back on the floor. Y/N called out “Steve…” before Agent Holbrook snarked. “It’s no use Y/L/N, he can’t hear you anymore.”

A gasp filled the meeting room. Nat looked over and locked eyes with Steve, guilt evident across both of their faces. But there was still one question unanswered, what happened to the two agents?

As Y/N collapsed to the floor, another man walked into the room and addressed Patterson and Holbrook. “You’ve done well, but your mission is not over.” As he spoke he raised his weapon and shot both of the agents. Holbrook dropped to the floor dead whilst Patterson tried to steady himself. “B-but why?!” Patterson asked as he gripped the wound in his stomach. “Killing Y/N is an easy way out for her. She deserves to suffer for all she has done against Hydra. I want the Avengers to hate her, for her to watch the love of her life disown her. She’ll be heartbroken whilst she dies slowly, in pain, losing everything she’s every loved.” The mysterious man let out an evil cackle as he placed the gun in Y/N hand and walked away.

Nat’s POV:

The room was silent. I felt physically sick. How could I be so stupid. I didn’t even give her a chance to explain, I just instantly thought the worse and left her to her fate. How would she ever forgive me?

The team were shell shocked, no one spoke or moved until Wanda stood up and looked round at all of us. “I hope you’re happy. Y/N worked so hard to prove herself to us, to gain our trust after she had spent 7 years in hell. She did everything we ever asked of her. Yet with one incident you all turn your back, not letting her have her say, you just assumed her guilt and locked her away. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive us.”

No one could make eye contact, the guilt filled the room. What was I doing? Why was I still sat here? “We’ve got to go and let her out, we have to start to make this right.” I said as I rose and started towards the door. The others nodded and followed my lead.

My hands were shaking as we arrived in the cell block. I knew she was going to be angry, I don’t blame her, but I just hope that she’ll give me a chance to make this up to her. I take a deep breath and make my way to her cell.

What I saw made it feel like my heart stopped. Y/N’s body was slumped in the corner of her cell. “No no no no! STEVE OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” I yell frantically. As the door opens, I run to her side, “Y/N, can you hear me, come on Y/N wake up! Baby please don’t leave me!” I shout shaking her shoulders. I can’t tell if she’s even breathing. Her face is gaunt and grey with dark circles under her eyes. I put 2 fingers to her neck feeling a very weak pulse. “She’s alive, just. We need to get her to Banner now!”. I turn around and see Steve and Tony stood there in shock. We did this to her. “Now Steve!” I yell pulling him out of his trance. He bends down and picks her up bridal style rushing her to Bruce’s lab.

We’re all stood outside the lab watching Bruce and his team working on Y/N. “This is all our fault. She could die and not know that we don’t hate her! She could die thinking I don’t love her” I trailed off at that last thought. Fuck, please be ok.

Time skip

Bruce left his lab with a solemn look on his face. He slowly approached us fiddling with the glasses in his hand. “How is she Bruce?” I asked, scared of the answer. He looked up and made eye contact, took a deep breath before starting. “Y/N’s powers were gained from the serum that she was injected with whilst she was held by Hydra. As long as she was using her powers regularly her body was able to prevent the serum from causing damage to her. When we put Y/N into the power restricting cuffs, her body was no longer able to fight the serum. It was slowly poisoning her from the minute we put them on.”

We stood there in silence. We were killing her! “What does that mean? Can you fix her?” Steve asked, stepping forward and putting his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve tried to counter act the serum and I’ve done all I can. Y/N was almost dead when you brought her here her body barely functioning. All we can do now is wait and hope her body reacts to the counter agent.” Silence filled the air again before I dared speak, “so uh, she can still die?” “She’s stable for now, but yes, if her body can’t fight then there won’t be anything else we can do. I’m so sorry Nat.”

I stood there in complete shock. Bruce walked by and gave me a pitying look as he left. I looked towards Steve and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears streamed down my face and I let out quiet sobs as he pulled me in to a tight embrace. “Y/N is a fighter. She’s strong and she’ll get through this.” He tried to comfort me. “A couple of hours ago Steve we thought she was a murder, but it turns out that’s us.” I pushed him away and left.

I walked into the lab and pulled up the chair next to Y/N’s bed taking her hand in mine whilst placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. Her body seemed so small and it broke my heart to see all the wires and machines fighting to keep her alive. “I’m so sorry moya lyubov (my love). Please fight, please come back to me. I know I don’t deserve it but I promise I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you”. Tears were uncontrollably falling down my face as I gazed down at the love of my life.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard soft cries. I turned to see Wanda, I reached up and grabbed her hand that was resting on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you all.” Wanda said. “No Wanda, you were right, we handled this all wrong. She’s going to need you when she wakes up. You’re the only one who believed her.” The last comment hurt as I said it.

“She’ll forgive you. Her thoughts were very loud when she was with you. She was so happy to be with you, she said you made her feel complete. We are her family and we can fix this” Wanda smiles and gently gives me a kiss on the head before she leaves.

Y/N’s POV:

As I open my eyes I’m blinded by the bright lights. Am I dead? My eyes start to adjust and I look around and see a familiar red head resting on the edge of my bed. I must be dead I think to myself. I pull my hand away from Nat’s tight grasp trying to sit up. This wakes her up. When she sees I’m awake she shoots up. “No, baby you need to lie down.” She says gently pushing at my shoulders. I really want to get up and get out of here, but the pain is horrible. Wait did she just call me baby?

“You’re ok Y/N, we didn’t realise the handcuffs would cause the serum to poison you. You’re going to be ok.” She reaches out to take my hand but I pull it away. I can see that hurt her. I can see tear stains down her cheeks. Why did she care if I was dead or alive? To her I was a cold-hearted Hydra murderer.

“Are you going to send me back to my cell now I’m awake?” I croak barely able to speak. She shakes her head “No Y/N, we saw the camera footage, we’re so sorry we know you didn’t do it. Hydra were setting you up.” I run my hands through my knotted hair and let out a deep breath which causes me to wince. Why does my whole body hurt? Nat seems to notice the wince and pushes a button near the bed calling for Bruce.

A few minutes later Bruce walks through the door with Wanda and Steve in tow. Wanda runs over to me her eyes filling with tears. “Y/N thank God you’re ok. I missed you so much.” She pulls me into a tight hug causing me to let out a small cry of pain. “Shit, I’m so sorry Y/N.” Wanda pulls away quickly and I give her a small smile to let her know it’s ok.

Bruce walks over to take her place and starts asking me questions. Most I can respond to by just nodding or shaking my head. “Why is my whole body in pain? It feels like it’s on fire” I say in a raspy voice. “The serum was attacking every part of your body. We were able to kick start your body into counter acting the damage but it will take some time for you to fully heal. I’ll give you some pain relief now which will hopefully help you be more comfortable.” I nodded as Bruce injected painkillers into my IV.

“When can I leave?” I ask. “I would like to monitor you for a couple of days but I reckon you can move to your room to recover from then.” Bruce responds. “No Bruce, when can I leave the compound? I don’t belong here anymore” He just looked at me as Nat reached out to take my hand again. “Y/N it might take weeks before you’re well enough to walk out of here.” I can feel all of the team’s eyes on me. Nat and Wanda both have glossy eyes. “I’ll take my chances thanks Bruce” I huff as I try and sit up to leave.

They all step forward talking at once.

Bruce: “Y/N lie back down, you’re still at risk. If you leave you could still die!”

Wanda: “Sweetie, please stay. Let us help you. This is your home.”

Steve: “We’re not letting you leave until Bruce says it’s safe”

Nat: “Please baby just stay, I can’t lose you!”

“JUST STOP!” I yell. Ouch that hurt. They all back off and look at me shocked. “Stop pretending that you care about me. This is no longer my home, I do not want to stay somewhere I’m considered a murder and I’m not trusted.” I can feel tears fall down my face now. I’m hurt, I love them so much but they don’t trust me anymore, it’s not realistic for me to stay here.

I can bare to look any of them in the eye but I feel all of theirs burning into me. There is an awkward silence until Nat squeezes my hand before she speaks. “Y/N, please look at me.” She slowly lifts my chin until my teary eyes meet her beautiful green ones. “I know what we have done is unforgivable. I don’t think we will ever be able to tell you how sorry we are. But please believe me when we say that we do not think you are a murder. We made a mistake, an awful mistake, but we will do anything and everything to prove to you that we are sorry and gain your trust back. This is your home and we’re you’re family. I love you and I’m not willing to let you go without a fight this time. I won’t make that mistake again!”.

I search her eyes, trying to find any sign if she’s lying. I turn and look to Wanda who is smiling gingerly at me. “We love you Y/N. I know it may not feel like that right now, but we do.” I reach out and grab her hand and give it a squeeze and her shoulders relax. “I never had a family until I came here. Then you gave me a home and helped me fix myself. I would have given my life for any of you. I found the person I love more than anything in this world.” I pause looking to Nat whose tears have started to fall again. “I don’t know if I can forgive you…. But I know that I want to try. I’m not ready to give up on my family. Not just yet.” The tension in the air seems to lift and they all smile at me whilst Wanda kissed my forehead.

I feel my eyes start to get heavy and Bruce orders everyone to leave so I can rest. Nat stands up to leave but I pull her back towards me. “Please stay with me.” I ask at barely a whisper worried she’ll say no. A wide smile grows across her face as she meets her lips to mine in a soft and loving kiss. Our lips fitting together perfectly as butterflies fill my stomach.

I move over in the bed to make room for her to join me. She looks at me hesitantly. “I don’t want to hurt your babe.” She looks down fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “You won’t hurt me Nat. Right now, I just want my beautiful girlfriend to hold me to make me feel like everything will be ok.” She looks up with a slight smile as she gentle gets into the bed carefully pulling me into her chest. She rests her hand on my stomach asking, “Does this hurt moya lyubov (my love)?” I shake my head and plant soft kisses on her neck. I feel safe again. I know it’s a long way to go before we can fix everything that is broken, but in this moment, I’m happy in the arms of the woman that I love.

#natasha romanoff #natasha #romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x y/n #marvel #marvel fanfiction #avengers #avengers fanfiction

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kynimdraws · 3 months

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GO GET HIM!!

Another part of the Runeterra K'sante/Yone hc verse stuff....I suppose I will have to continue to give them something to be happy for idk

Yone design ref for this verse can be seen in detail here

To see the other previous parts go here (Part 1) - (Part 2) - (Part 3)

The process of acting like a human again was arduous. Before, the azakana had sustained him, made him forgo the usual human necessities like sleeping, eating, taking care of himself between fighting....and more. Not unlike how a child has to learn the ways of the world.

Of course, his body was still not completely...normal. Having a spiritual parasite did leave his mark, as he found out that he still could unbind his soul from his body (initially this was all random and involuntary, but later he found out how to channel it by will). His left eye, while ruined and blind to the material world, could still see things from the spirit realm.

It was also nice that K'sante stayed around to just keep an eye on him, making sure he rested and ate. Keeping him company through bouts of nightmares and emotional outbursts he had after suppressing them for so long to starve off the azakana residing in the old mask.

Disorienting and traumatic as this all was, Yone was grateful for the second chance at life. It also didn't hurt that his friend (or was it more...a companion?....travel partner? He was too afraid to mull over this for long) had stayed with him to help. He felt guilty for feeling this selfish, but he allowed himself to have that.

Of course, even the good things had to end. K'sante had visited all the places he wanted to go, learned a great deal of things, and his home needed him. When K'sante announced that he would leave for the Navori harbor in a week, Yone's world seemed to shatter with the news. Yes, he had known K'sante would eventually go back, but it seemed to be something that would happen far later...not this soon.

K'sante does notice Yone looking down, and ever considerate, he gives him an offer.

"You know, if you want to...you can come with me."

Yone mulls over this, looking at the masks that he had collected over the years as an azakana hunter, including the one that used to curse his face. There was still so many azakana left in the world, and Yone did vow to rid Ionia of them...

...but was this something he had to do? After dedicating his "un-life" to that cause and then getting his humanity back, Yone was not sure. And leaving home.... felt daunting.

"I... don't know."

K'sante is disappointed by the answer, but smiles in understanding. The two spend time together before the departure date, traveling back to Navori to meet Sett and other friends K'sante had made there. K'sante introduces Yone to them, and Yone does find himself enjoying their company (in small doses).

On the day of the departure, Yone does come over to bid K'sante farewell. As K'sante boards the ship headed southward to Bel'zhun...he suddenly is stopped by a voice.

"Wait."

K'sante feels someone tug at his sleeve, and already knows who it is. Smiling, he turns around to see Yone awkwardly trying to avoid looking at K'sante while tightly gripping onto his coat.

".............Before, I hunted through a storm of darkness, but now....will you let me follow you like a wayward gale?"

K'sante is initially confused by Yone's words, but then laughs after he realizes what he is saying. He brings Yone to a tight hug, surprising the other man with the sudden act.

"You can be the deadliest desert storm, and I would happily accept you. Of course!"

For the first time in his life, Yone feels...free. Was this how his brother felt when he forgave him? He too had left Ionia afterwards.

Now, it was his turn to fly.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#yone #k'sante #league of legends #hunter and the mask verse #k'yone #yosante #IM SORRY I GOT A LOT OF PPL ENJOYING THIS SO HERE IT IS....#kyleeart #Hunter and the Mask verse Story

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intoanotherworld23 · 11 months

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Pick Your Battles XII

Pairing: Reader x Bradley Bradshaw

Warnings: None

Summary: Bradley broke your heart when he accused you of betraying him, and you haven’t seen or spoken to him since. Until you are both called back to Top Gun to help with a dangerous mission that nobody’s ever attempted before

I do not own any rights to the characters or movie this is just purely for reading entertainment. Hearts, reblogs, and comments are encouraged and appreciated! If you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know! Thank you so much guys and enjoy! XOXO

Part 11

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

The next day literally dragged on for what felt like days. Both Jake and Bradley constantly looking over at you, but neither one of them saying a word. Of course you didn’t give neither of them so much as a smile.

It wasn’t a good day of training either. Nobody was communicating with each other, and they weren’t acting like a team. Maverick and Admiral Simpson were both disappointed and frustrated. The mission was only a couple weeks away, and everyone still wasn’t learning.

Admiral Simpson was also getting on you about choosing a team leader for this mission. He suggested Jake, but you argued that he would get his entire team killed if he led the mission. It was like you were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Today though you were completely distracted, and your head was in the clouds. Right now you couldn’t think or make any type of decision. You felt like you needed to escape from here.

Ever since that night going on your somewhat date with Jake, and running into Bradley. Only to hear the truth, and both men wanting you to choose them. It was hard and that’s why you decided to go home alone. Bradley being kind enough to drive you home.

You didn’t kiss you didn’t hug. You just said your goodbyes, and laid in bed until it was time to get up. Mind going crazy over everything that’s been happening, and wondering what you should do.

Standing next to Maverick as you watched the pilots strolling in to take their seats. Pete asking you if you were okay, and of course you lied not wanting to burn his ears off with everything that’s been going on.

Admiral Simpson and Solomon walked in with Simpson taking a seat in the back, and Solomon walking up to the podium with a stoic look on his face.

“Good morning pilots.” Warlock greeted everyone. “The mission will be operational earlier than expected. The new shipment will be delivered within about ten days time. As a result your mission has been moved up one week.”

Everyone including Maverick looked nervous hearing this news. It was unexpected and quite honestly terrified the pilots.

“But sir nobody has successfully flown a low level course.” Coyote spoke.

“You’ve been ordered to move on.” He responded complete silence filling the room.

Looking across the room you saw that Bradley was already staring at you. You could tell by the look on his face that he was worried. Instinctively you cracked a smile for him in reassurance. He mimicked you as you turned away to look back at Warlock.

“Captain.” He signaled to Maverick who now stood in his place placing his hands on the podium.

“We have one week left to focus on the most dangerous part of the mission. It’s a pop up strike with a steep dive requiring nothing less than two miracles.” A heavy sigh leaving your lips. “We need to focus on this mission, and you need to listen to every instruction that is given to you.”

Maverick looked to you to speak now making you step forward clearing your throat. Your mouth so dry it was like the Sahara desert.

“Two pairs of F-18s will fly in a welded wing formation.” All eyes now focused on you. “Team work. Precise coordination of these aircraft are essential to this missions success and your survival.”

“As you have read this plant rests between two mountains.” Pointing to the screen behind you showing a simulation of what it’s going to look like. “On the final approach you’ll invert directly into a steep dive. This allows you to maintain the lowest possible altitude, and the only possible attack angle.”

Looking at the pilots expression you could see them all twitching and fidgeting in their seats. They tried to put on brave faces, but you saw the fear behind their eyes.

“Your target is an impact point less than three meters wide. The two seat aircraft will paint the target with a laser bulls eyes. The first pair will breach the reactor by dropping a laser guided bomb on an exposed ventilation hatch. This will create an opening for the second pair.”

“That’s miracle number one.” Maverick interrupted before you could say anything more.

Some shook their heads in disbelief, and others looked around at the other pilots making sure they heard all this correctly. It sounded easier than it was going to be.

“The second team will deliver a kill shot and destroy the target.” You finished as Bradley gave you a encouraging smile.

“That’s miracle number two.” Maverick raised two fingers this time. “If either team misses the target.”

Looking over at Maverick who had a very serious expression.

“The mission is a failure.” Bowing your head down to the thought of them failing or losing their lives because of this mission.

“The mountain is a very steep high- G climb out to avoid hitting this mountain.”

“A steep climb at that speed your pulling at least 8 G’s.” Jake spoke up saying what everyone else was thinking.

“9 minimum.” Maverick responded.

“Has anyone actually ever achieved that?” Jake sounded skeptical.

“I did.” Maverick sounded proud of his achievement.

You remember that day very clearly too. Maverick pushed 10 G’s, and pissed off almost every Admiral that was watching. Laughing to yourself as the cursed mutters in the room, while some of them were chuckling at Mavericks bold action.

“To survive this mission you will pull beyond that. Even if it means bending your air frame.”

Looking over to see Admiral Simpson closing his eyes, and shaking his head at Mavericks words. You knew Simpson wanted this mission to be as clean as possible, but with Mavericks reputation you knew he’d tell them to push their limits.

“You’ll be pulling so hard you’ll weigh close to two thousand pounds. Your skull crushing your spine. Your lungs imploding like an elephant is sitting on your chest. Fighting with everything you have just to keep from blacking out.”

You could feel a lump forming in your throat at the thought of Bradley struggling in the jet. Imaging the worst case scenario. The last thing you would want is for that to happen to him, and Bradley loses control and crashes.

“And this is where you’ll be at your most vulnerable. This is what we’re calling coffin corner.” Bob looked like he was either going to throw up or pass out.

“Assuming you avoid crashing into this mountain you’ll climb straight up into enemy radar while losing all of your air speed.” Everyone now focused on the screen as they showed another video demonstration.

“Within seconds you will be fired upon by enemy SAM’s.” Those were powerful missiles and everyone else knew that too.

This was a mission that couldn’t go wrong. They don’t want to fail, but they also didn’t want to lose any pilots. That’s why they wanted the best of the best. Pilots that they felt could achieve this and survive.

“This is gonna take you and your aircraft to its breaking point.” Mavericks tone was almost like a warning.

“Sir is this even possible?” Natasha spoke up this time.

“The answer to that will be up to the pilot in the box.”

Maverick was speaking to everyone, but his words were meant more for Bradley. The pair stared at each other for a few seconds like they were having some sort of silent conversation. Maverick didn’t want to lose Bradley either, and wanted him to know how serious this was.

“We have created a flight path just like the one for the mission. You will learn this path, you will think about this path even in your sleep.” You said as confidently as you could. “First pair will be Coyote as lead pilot, and Phoenix and Bob second.”

The three pilots nodded as they were dismissed by Maverick. Watching as they were escorted to where they needed to go.

Everyone else left the room to listen in on what was going on. Jake tried to remain in the room as long as he could, but when he saw that Bradley wasn’t moving he gave up, and headed towards the door. Bradley remained in his seat as you stood there, and waited until the room was empty.

Nothing was said between the two of you. Picking at the skin around your nails out of habit. While Bradley just watched you curiously like he wanted you to speak first. Both of you had so much to say, but didn’t know where to start.

“How are you?” Bradley asked as he stood up.

“As good as one can be.” Giving him a pathetic smile. “You?”

Not realizing that the two of you were each stepping towards the other closer and closer. Like some type of magnetic force was pulling you to him.

“As good as one can be.” Repeating your words making you smile.

“How you feeling after that little speech?” Crossing your arms across your chest as you two now stood practically in front of the other.

“Nervous as hell.” Answering honestly as he wiped the palms of his hands against his pants. “Do you think we can honestly pull this off?”

“Yeah I think with the right pilots we can.” Bradley actually valued your opinion on certain things.

“Who do you think should be leading this mission?” It was a question you were hoping to avoid with him.

“Bradley come on.” Scoffing as you turned away from him.

“No seriously I want to hear who you think should be leading this mission.” Softly grabbing your hand so you looked back at him.

“Honestly.” Taking a deep breath before you answered. “None of you.”

That answer seemed to shock Bradley as he didn’t say anything and just looked at your face. It was the honest truth, and quite frankly you didn’t want him leading the mission anyway. He meant too much for you to lose.

“None of you are really ready for this mission, and they need someone who can lead it successfully.” Shrugging your shoulders at him as you further explained.

“You’re right.” Finally speaking. “You’re totally right.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you can’t do it.”

“I know what you mean. It’s what you and Maverick have been telling me from the start.” Hearing him mention Mavericks name surprised given how he felt about him. “I can’t play it safe.”

“You’re a good pilot Bradley.” Placing a hand on his shoulder as he weakly smiled.

“So are you.” Taking your hand from his shoulder and holding it in his hand his thumb tenderly rubbing the skin back and forth.

Bradley’s gaze lingering on your face as you both smiled at each other with adoration. Neither one of you doing or saying anything, but just enjoying each others presence. It was like a roller coaster with you two. Constant ups and downs, and you didn’t know when it was going to end.

“We should probably be there with everyone else.” You spoke up as you dropped your hand from his.

“Yeah right.” He stuttered as you walked in front of him Bradley placing a soft touch on your back as he followed right behind you.

Once you got into the room everyone looked stressed and terrified. Some of them had their head in their hands, and others mouths open wide. You and Bradley looked at each other confused to what was going on. Whatever happened it wasn’t good.

“Where the hell have you guys been?” Payback exclaimed everyone turning towards you both. “You guys just missed it.”

“What happened?” Asking as you walked away from Bradley.

“Coyote went into G lock and Phoenix and Bob crashed.” It was like the air left your lungs and all you heard was crash.

“What?” Bradley shouted in disbelief.

You could hear muffled voices but you had no idea what they were saying. There was a ringing in your ear as you stood there like a deer caught in the headlights.

Staring at him wide eyed saying nothing your legs moved before your mouth could say anything. Running out of the room as quickly as you could before you burst into tears. Those same feelings and fear were coming back, and you couldn’t handle something like this happening to you again.

Running into an empty room as you sat down trying to catch your breath. Your breathing was shallow and erratic, and you felt that same anxiety before you had a panic attack. The room was getting smaller, and it was getting much harder to breathe. Like at any moment you could burst into tears.

Bradley quickly followed behind you hearing you as he ran down the hall, and quickly came into the room. The sight before him nearly broke his heart.

He took one look at you, and sat right next to you. An arm wrapped around you while he held your hands. Leaning your head against his shoulder as he tried to help control you. Whispering comforting things in your ear.

“It’s okay just breathe in through your nose, and out of your mouth.” His chin resting on top of your head. “Breathe with me baby.”

Trying to get you to follow his breathing patterns in a slow and easy pace. Hoping that his calm presence would help, and would make you feel better. He hated to see you like this, and wishes he could take all this pain you felt away from you.

“That’s it. Just breathe like that for me.” He whispered once he felt your breathing slowing down. “That’s a good girl.”

Closing your eyes as you suddenly felt exhausted. Pressing yourself deeper into Bradley’s body loving how warm and safe he felt. Bradley wasn’t going to let you go either. He wanted to hold you in his arms for as long as he could.

“Better?” He asked looking at your face.

“Yeah. Thank you.” Weakly smiling at him as you pressed your face into his shoulder. “It’s been so long since that’s happened.”

“I understand.”

The doors came bursting open as a worried Maverick came into the room. Looking at the way Bradley was holding you and seeing the expression you had on your face he knew what happened.

“Are they okay?” Bradley asked.

“There gonna keep them both in the hospital over night for observation. But there gonna be okay.” A sigh of relief left your lips hearing that news.

“That’s good.” He responded not moving an inch.

“It was a close one.” Mavericks voice cracking at the thought of how much worse it could’ve been.

“I’ve never lost a wingman.”

“You’re lucky. Fly long enough and it’ll happen. There will be others.”

“Easy for you to say.” Bradley letting go of you to stand up now. “No wife. No kids. Nobody to mourn you when you burn in.”

“Bradley.” Whispering for him to stop knowing this wasn’t the time or place.

“Go home.” Maverick responded not really in the mood to have this discussion. “Just get some sleep.”

“Why did you pull my papers at the academy?” Bradley asked Maverick before he could walk out the door. “Why did you stand in my way?”

“You weren’t ready.” Maverick kept his voice low and soft.

“Ready for what? To fly like you.” Bradley was raising his voice as he stood face to face with Maverick now.

“No ready to forget the books and trust your instincts. Don’t think just do. You think up there your dead. Believe me.”

“Well my dad believed in you.” Bradley said with such malice it even shocked you. “I’m not gonna make the same mistake.”

As the two of them stared at each other you could tell Maverick was affected by his words. Standing up this time as you wanted to say something, but it was between the two of them. They needed to be work this out themselves.

Before anything else could be spoke the door opened, and Admiral Solomon and Simpson were standing there with weird looks on their faces. Thinking they were there to lecture Maverick, but there focus was on you.

“Y/N.” Warlock waving you over both Maverick and Bradley watching you.

“What is it?” Asking when they shut the door behind you.

“Your fathers gone.”

#miles teller #miles teller smut #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #miles teller x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #miles teller fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagines #top gun #top gun fanfiction

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