Nothing like watching Pride and Prejudice and Little Women back to back to make me yearn for the bond that the oldest and second oldest sister have.

a skeleton of something more [2/6]

previously here. malex wip fic. a short serial leading up the premiere.

spoilers for the trailer and promo, will be instantly AU. If I’m going to the trouble of writing a malex fix-it for the season 3 opener, why not fix 2x13 too?

**** THEN **** 

After Alex closed Tripp’s journal, he met Michael’s gaze across the table at the Crashdown. 

His golden-brown eyes were heavy with pain, the reminder of how his mother’s story had ended was still fresh between them despite the span of months since the fiery end of Caulfield. What had resulted in being the fiery end of them, even though Alex hadn’t known it at the time. The look of sleeplessness in Michael’s face reminded Alex, that outside of this small piece of Nora, he had the weight of Maria still in the hospital recovering from the pathogen Flint had released. The press of the Deep Sky ring in his pocket warred with the hesitation to place one more burden on Michael, would the abacus of their fragile friendship balance out?

He flashed to that last argument in Michael’s bunker, a disaster of his own making, thinking he could believe in his father, but thankfully harm was averted at Crashcon. That recent memory was motive enough for Alex to decide. Whatever happened next, he needed Michael on the same page with him.

As Isobel moved to leave the table, explaining to Michael that she needed to check on Max, Alex held Michael’s gaze deliberately. Then he folded his fingers down, until the last three fanned out in a downward W. 

“After what happened with Maria, maybe you should come with me, Michael. You can help me shake some sense into Max,” Alex heard, tuning back into Isobel’s voice. Her eyes moved back and forth between them, a crease of suspicion wrinkling her upturned nose, as she stopped on him. “It’ll be a good distraction.”

Without looking at Isobel, Michael’s eyes remained trained on Alex’s hand. “No, thanks, I’m good here. I’ve had my fill of stubborn ass people who don’t want to listen to sensible advice from me, so I’ll catch up with you later, Isobel.” 

She made a dismissive huff but did not argue, leaving with the barest semblance of a polite goodbye to Alex, but that was typical Isobel Evans. Michael waited until his sister was on the other side of the door, before speaking quietly, his gaze finally moving up from Alex’s hands to his face. “I haven’t seen you flash that sign to me in years.” 

“Glad to know you haven’t forgotten it.”

“You, making the ‘wait for me, I want you now’ signal? Nah, that’s been burned into my brain over the years.” Michael said it with a faint trace of bitterness. “I guess news travels fast, Maria only dumped my ass this morning.”

Alex winced and looked down, swallowing the surprise and spark of hope that welled in his throat at that disclosure. It was better to concentrate on the unique talent he had of stepping on landmines around Michael, than wonder about what had happened with Maria. It looked like he was still good at causing harm without intention, judging by the stung bite in Michael’s voice. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have-”

“No, I’m sorry,” Michael cut off his apology firmly with a wave of his hand, calling a time-out. Alex waited, his teeth pressed into his lower lip as Michael rubbed his eyes with a weary half-smile. “I’m being an asshole right now, and that’s not fair to take it out on you. It’s been a shitty day already, and — anyway, … you definitely know how to get my attention, Alex.” He tilted his head, self-deprecation on his face, “for better or worse, you’ve always been good at that.” 

It had been the sign they had developed whenever their paths had crossed over the years while Alex had been on leave in Roswell, but it had started that summer after high school. After Michael’s hand had healed poorly from Jesse, the last three fingers had been left frozen in a claw, it had been a shared fuck-you to his dad to use it to form their own secret communication. A three-fingered W, turned upward meant it wasn’t a good time, and he would find Michael later; turned downward, well, that meant it was safe to approach him, and it had often ended in a hurried blowjob in his car. Perhaps he should have used more care in using it now, but Michael wasn’t the only one running on the fumes of insomnia and stress. “Sorry, I needed to talk to you, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t leave with Isobel-”

“It’s fine, really. It’s not a bad memory either, remembering that we had our little secret language.” Michael wiggled his fingers in reassurance, his left hand still wrapped with a bandanna. “I can make that signal a hell of a lot easier now, too. But anyway, what did you need?”

There was still a voice inside Alex’s head that said ‘you’, no matter how long it had been. He shoved that down deep, along with his curiosity about Maria, and concentrated on his purpose. “Your advice on something, and then if it’s not too much to ask, your help.”

“Anything.” 

Alex blinked, nonplussed by the easy acceptance. 

Michael gestured encouragingly, “seriously, anything, just tell me what’s going on because the way you’re hemming and hawing, it is freaking me out.” Suddenly, all expression washed out of Michael’s face as a horrible thought occurred to him. “Did you get deployed or something?”

“Not exactly, not how you’re thinking,” he winced at the earned glare from Michael as he continued to stall while the words still tripped and fumbled around his mouth, heedless to the mounting frustration between them both. He sighed, and regrouped. Pushing the closed journal aside, Alex dug into his pocket and laid the signet ring on the table before Michael. “Let me start at the beginning, I found this in my dad’s things.” 

“Jesse never seemed like a jewelry kind of guy to me.” Michael picked up the ring, examining it closely with a sarcastic smirk. “Other than parading around town with that wedding ring, when everyone knows your mom left him back during the Bush years, Dubya that is.”

“My father is all, was all, about appearances.” Alex placed the photo of the group on the table, sliding it over to him. “That ring marked his membership in this paramilitary group called Deep Sky. Every man in that photo worked at Caulfield, at one time or another.” He tapped his finger over the face of his father, then moved it to the right. “That’s my dad, and that is Ricky Long.”

Michael frowned, pulling the picture closer to squint at the faces. “Wyatt’s dad?”

“No, Forrest’s.”

“Nazi guy? Seriously?” He rubbed at his chin, the stubble longer than usual painting his jawline. Alex dragged his eyes away with effort as Michael considered that information. There was a reluctant understanding in his eyes, having recalled that Forrest Long wasn’t just ‘Nazi Guy’ to Alex, but someone who had expressed interest in Alex. Personal interest. “I guess that’s something you guys have in common then, dirtbag dads.” 

He didn’t look thrilled to admit that to Alex, but it was a mark of how far they had both come as friends that Michael had said it anyway regardless. It was kind of him. It was the same type of empathy Alex had extended toward Michael, when he had expressed interest in Maria. Cut open, bleeding under his skin from all the ways he had squandered his own chances, he had said something similar to Michael once upon a time. That was what love was all about. Then he had kept saying it, until he believed it most days because wanting Michael to be happy was the easier ask.

It was a gracious sentiment that was entirely wasted by Michael when it came to Forrest Long. 

“It would be, uh, something to bond over, if I hadn’t noticed that Forrest wears the same ring now.” 

Michael’s eyes sharpened. “Family heirloom or do you think he worked at Caulfield?”

“I don’t know, but he is an ex-Army vet.” Alex tapped the photo of the members gathered together, “That was part of what I’ve been looking into, identifying everyone who worked at Caulfield right until the end. As for Deep Sky, I don’t know if it’s military service, Caulfield, or a family legacy that ties every member together, I just know that Dad kept in touch with those who were involved at the prison.” 

“Makes sense, Jesse was able to get a hold of the atomizer and pathogen that Charlie developed from somewhere. For all of his strutting around at Crashcon with a uniform on, that didn’t look like it was an official use of government property.” 

“Right, it definitely wasn’t, and before you tell me to leave it alone-” Alex began, remembering Michael’s response to the investigation into 1947. He had considered Alex’s actions back then to be an act of futility, something that could only hurt by being revisited. The past being the past, unable to be altered. 

This time Michael cut him off, “No, I was wrong about that. I, um, I finally realized that just because I don’t see you connected to that place or the rest of your family, doesn’t mean you don’t. And while I wish that you didn’t, Alex, if digging into this gives you some sort of peace over it, then do it.”

Alex looked down, feeling the weight of relief that Michael understood. After his father’s body had been removed, after the questions and lies had been spun, he had spent the entire night sleepless over having been made into an effective weapon to force Michael’s compliance. Helena had known where all the weak spots were thanks to Flint, and had armed herself with a depowering agent. Once Flint was recovered, there was nothing stopping him from employing a similar tactic in the future.

“If anyone’s going to destroy me, it might as well be you.” Michael had once declared with a bold carelessness that had infuriated and terrified Alex at the time, but that was nothing compared to now having a lived experience to back it up. His mind had easily used the memory of Maria’s collapse after the faintest exposure at the Crashcon and had exchanged her with Michael, being torn apart molecule by molecule, by an invisible threat.

Give him an enemy that he could see any day, especially one that bled. 

“I’ve been fighting so long, I don’t know what peace looks like anymore.” Alex held out his hand for the ring, and Michael gently laid it in his palm, brushing his fingertips over Alex’s skin. A lifetime of controlling himself kept the reaction off his face as he rubbed his thumb over the raised emblem of Deep Sky. “But I have learned recently that when something seems too good to be true, it is.” 

Neither of them mentioned Jesse and his performance from the last few months, but Michael frowned again, “Wait a second, you think Forrest targeted you on purpose?” 

“A member of a secret paramilitary organization just happens to ask me out after I was involved in the destruction of Caulfield? You really think that’s a coincidence?” Alex raised his eyebrow skeptically at Michael, before looking out the window to watch the pedestrians on the street. 

“I think you’re the hottest guy in Roswell, so I’m not surprised he asked you out.” Michael flushed a little when Alex turned back to stare at him in surprise over the flattering comment. “Seriously, you’re a catch, but I will agree, it’s not a good look that he’s got that ring. But maybe it’s crap he wears because of his dad, and he’s got no idea he’s parading around?”

“You’re being awfully generous.”

“Isn’t that what you want? Because last time I checked, you were the one telling me that I should have faith in people, even if they give me no reason to.” Michael flattened his hands on the table, drawing Alex’s attention to the bandanna on his hand again. That damn fight kept echoing between them to Alex’s dismay, but Michael didn’t let him linger over it, “While I stand by what I said about Jesse, ‘cause he messes us both up, all I know about Forrest Long is that he is way too interested in Nazi history and he has good taste in guys.” Michael wetted his lips, nervously to tack on, “I also know that I trust you, and your instincts, so if you say there’s something not right about him, then I believe you.” 

“There’s something not right about him,” Alex repeated seriously.

“Then I believe you, so what do you need me to do?”

“He wants to get close to me for some reason, probably related to what I know about aliens, so I’m going to let him. And I need you to back me up in case something goes wrong, and maybe use that lock pick you have in your brain?” Alex waited until Michael nodded in agreement, feeling the swell of gratitude at his support. Anyone else would probably think he was being paranoid, or that this was a delayed reaction to his father trying to kill them, but Michael, for all of his previous counter-arguments, had never truly believed in the good of humanity. Maybe in a few days, Alex would feel guilty in relying on that. Maybe in a few days, his suspicions about Forrest would be eliminated.

“He’s involved in running the open mike night at the Wild Pony with Maria, so I thought maybe I could perform a song or something? He drives a Prius, and while he’s listening to me sing, you could slip out mid-song and insert this into the code reader of his car.” 

On the table was a small device that mimicked a thumb drive, small and black. It was the type of technology that Alex had used in the Air Force, tracking terrorists abroad. It had taken a fair amount of searching to purchase the equivalent stateside to have on hand. Michael picked it up curiously, turning over his hands.

“It’s designed to download the GPS history of his car,” Alex explained, before rubbing the back of his head in thought. “That’s how I uncovered what my dad was up to, first by tracking his movements. If I let Forrest take me home, I can gain access to his laptop and phone.”

Michael furrowed his brow in concern, “You’re really willing to go that far? And what if he is involved in something shady, what then?”

“My father and brother both used me to get to you, there’s really nothing I wouldn’t do to keep that from happening again and if it means playing along with this guy, letting him lead me to the members of Deep Sky? Then I will.” If anything, his words only deepened the concern on Michael’s face, but Alex had been committed for a long time. Since the red level threat. Since the short ride to the recruitment office. Maybe as far back as his guitar going missing in the music room.

“I’ve slept with guys for worse reasons.”

CONTINUED HERE

Of Starlight

A/N: Honestly one of my favorites

Word Count: 3040

Warnings: mentions of violence, guns and blood

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Chapter 6: The Best of the Best

For what seemed like the hundredth time, the video footage of Grace standing by as Reginald writhed in his bed flashed before (Y/N)’s (e/c) eyes, along with the eyes of her siblings who stood beside her. Though the evidence stood true and before her, her gut was begging her not to believe what she saw. Swallowing, she tuned in to hear what Vanya had to say, “I mean, do you really think Mom would hurt Dad?”

“You haven’t been home in a long time, Vanya,” Luther turned away from the television to his sister. “Maybe you don’t know Grace anymore.”

“If he was poisoned, it would have shown in the coroner’s report.” Diego stated matter-of-factly, (Y/N) nodding in agreement. But Luther hadn’t been so easily convinced.

“Well, I don’t need a report to tell me what I can see with my own eyes.”

“Then your vision’s fucked, dingus,” (Y/N) moved closer to the television, clicking a button to rewind. “Look. Dad has the monocle on, then Mom stands up, the monocle is gone.”

“Oh, yeah!” Klaus chuckled, the clone from earlier still standing at his side. Diego walked away from the television.

“She wasn’t poisoning him. She was… taking it. To clean it.” He guessed. Everyone’s bodies turned towards their vigilante brother, Luther in disbelief.

“Then where is it? No, I’ve searched the house, including all her things. She doesn’t have it.” A moment of silence passed before Diego raised his hand.

“That’s because I took it from her. After the funeral.”

“You’ve had the monocle this whole time? What the hell, Diego?!” Allison leaned away from the pillar she was against. Luther stuck his hand out immediately, demanding Diego give the monocle to him.

“I threw it away.”

“You… what?” Luther blinked as Allison scoffed, going for a drink from her glass. (Y/N) rubbed her temples as Diego explained himself,

“Look, I knew that if you found it on Mom, you’d lose your shit, just like you’re doing right now.”

“Diego, you son of a bitch.” Luther took a couple threatening steps forward as Diego got into a fighting stance. (Y/N) and Vanya immediately got in between the two of them, halting both their actions.

“Hey. No. Calm down. Look, I know Dad wasn’t exactly an open book. But I do remember one thing he said. Mom was, well, designed to be a caretaker, but… also as a protector.”

“Oh, yeah,” (Y/N) slowly nodded in realization. “She was programmed to intervene if someone’s life was in danger.”

“Well, if her hardware is degrading, then… We need to turn her off.”

“Luther!-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wait,” Diego’s voice rose in panic and anger. “She’s not just a vacuum cleaner you can throw in a closet! She feels things, I’ve seen it!”

“She just stood there, Diego, and watched our father die.”

“I’m with Luther.” Allison shrugged.

“Surprise, surprise.” Diego muttered.

“Shut up.” She shot back as (Y/N) crossed her arms.

“Well, I’m with Diego.” She voiced her opinion, her brother gratefully smiling at her. She returned the expression as Luther scoffed.

“And what does your opinion matter? The moment you moved out, you went and found the woman who gave you up the moment you were born-”

“Don’t you ever, ever, speak about my mother that way!” She boomed as she pointed a finger at him. “That woman has done more for me than I’ve ever asked of her and has supported me through everything I’ve done since I left this shithole! You have no right to give your fucking opinion on her! Even with that said, Grace is my mother as well and I will treat her as such. We were all raised by her, so my opinion matters just as much as yours, Apeman.” When she stepped back, Diego rested his hands on her shoulders from behind to steady her. Luther only stared at her in shock, not expecting her to blow up at him. Backing down, he turned to Vanya, as well as everyone else, to hear her opinion. The woman looked between her siblings, stammering out her answer before Diego interrupted her,

“Yeah, she shouldn’t get a vote.” He removed his hands from (Y/N) and moved away from them. She and Luther were going to start yet another argument between them when Vanya finally gained some confidence.

“I was gonna say that I agree with you.”

“Okay! She should get a vote,” He concluded before turning to Klaus, who leaned against another pillar. “What about you, stoner boy? What do you got?” Klaus looked up at them with raised brows.

“Oh, so, what? You need my help now? Oh, ‘Get out of the van, Klaus!’ ‘Well, welcome back to the van!’.”

“What van?” Allison questioned, clearly not understanding the situation that happened earlier. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at her druggie brother as Luther scoffed.

“What’s it gonna be, Klaus?”

“I’m with Diego, because screw you!” He furrowed his brows as Diego pointed at him, pleased that he and his brother agreed on something. “And if Ben were here, he’d agree with me.” A second afterwards, he hissed at the air beside him, (Y/N) guessing that Ben had disagreed with Klaus, but she wasn’t going to voice that. She sighed and turned to Luther.

“That’s three, Spaceboy-”

“Wait-”

“To two.” Diego finished, holding the numbers up with his fingers.

“It’s not final. Five’s not here.” Allison pointed out and (Y/N) sighed. He wouldn’t be here to give his say on the matter, anyway. Diego groaned.

“Oh, come on, he’d just agree with whatever (Y/N) has to say.” He motioned toward Number Eight, who bristled to argue with him.

“No, everyone in the family gets to vote. We owe each other that.” Allison shook her head as Luther and Vanya agreed with her. They all left the room, minus Diego, who stayed with a look of defeat. (Y/N) pat his shoulder as she left. She truly didn’t want Grace to be shut off. Granted, it was suspicious that she watched Reginald die without acting on it, but she would never hurt anyone. She showed the most care to them as kids and she couldn’t disregard that for anything.

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As the night washed over the sky, (Y/N) found that she would not have been much use to Five. When she left the Academy to join him, she saw that he still sat in that van, still watching that building. As much as she had begged to help, she was slowly starting to realize that Five wasn’t letting her in on everything. She knew he hadn’t been lying about the apocalypse, but she wished he would’ve told her whatever else he was in on. She felt horrible about it, but without even alerting him of her presence, she left him and arrived back at the mansion. As she wandered, she still felt tension between her siblings, and decided that it would be best not to interact with them for now. However, she felt a tug pulling her towards the bathroom. This familiar tug was what alerted her of her clones’ presence nearby. She followed the pull and peeked inside to see Klaus taking a bubble bath, her clone still watching over him. She quietly giggled at the sight, startling her brother and causing him to sit up quickly, some water splashing over the tub and onto the floor.

“Christ, (Y/N)! Don’t scare me like that!”

“You okay?” She whispered, side-eyeing her clone. Klaus sighed and relaxed once again.

“Yes, dear. Now can you take your robot with you? It’s been following me around for hours!”

“No, I still want it to make sure you don’t die. It’ll help if you, uh… drown or something,” She grinned before leaving the room, ignoring Klaus’ calls to her. As she continued to wander around, she found Diego, who seemed to be in deep thought. When he caught sight of his sister, his tense posture relaxed before he went to stand at her side. “Hey, what are you doing?”

“Just thinkin’,” He answered. “About what you said about Mom… how she raised us all and cared for us… makes me wonder how Luther could just choose her over Dad…” He shook his head and clenched his jaw. (Y/N) surveyed his expression, gently nudging him.

“I just don’t think Luther has much of an emotional connection with Mom… Not like you do,” He turned to her with a questioning gaze. “Oh, come on, Diego. You are a Mama’s Boy and you know it. But it’s not a bad thing! It’s not like Dad gave a shit about her. It’s good that someone checks up on her and actually takes her thoughts and emotions into consideration. You have no idea how good it feels to hear your kids ask how you’re doing.” The two shared a soft chuckle as they headed towards the rooms again. They halted their steps, however, when they heard guns cocking. Slowly turning in the direction it came from, they saw two people in suits and creepy kids’ masks pointing guns at them, ready to shoot.

“Shit. Go, go!” Diego pushed (Y/N) forward, the two bolting down the hallway as gunshots zoomed past them. Right as Diego launched his knives and hit the intruders, a bullet grazed (Y/N)’s right outer thigh. She cried out in pain and nearly fell if it hadn’t been for Diego catching her. Without a second thought, he lifted her onto his back and ran further down the hall, swiftly swinging around a corner and hiding the best he could. As gently as possible, he set (Y/N) down to her feet, the girl holding in a wince as she supported herself on the wall.

The sound of footsteps echoed and increased in volume. Just when they were right beside the two, Diego jumped out of their hiding place and attacked the taller intruder with his knife. (Y/N) heard him call out for his partner to shoot, but they couldn’t get a clear shot of Diego, not being able to see (Y/N) from where they were. Diego kicked his opponent against the wall before taking off down the hall, but not before grabbing his sister. She tried to ignore the throbbing in her leg as they ran just above the parlor. Without warning, Diego wrapped his arms around her and threw them off the bannister, landing on the couch in the parlor. Since he had broken her fall, her body nearly knocked the wind out of him, but he didn’t let himself recover. He jumped off of the couch with (Y/N) and hid behind a table. Once his arms were removed from her frame, she tried to stop the bleeding in her leg by pressing down on her wound. Diego placed his own hand down over hers, eyes moving around frantically before they landed on the portrait of Reginald on the wall across from them, bullets lodged into his face.

Footsteps approached the parlor and his head snapped in their direction. “(Y/N), stay here.” He whispered right beside her ear. She looked up and shook her head.

“No, I wanna help-”

“Do not help. Stay fucking here.” He violently hissed before starting to shuffle away, but he didn’t get very far, for bullets started flying towards them. Diego quickly wrapped his arms around his sister again and threw them down to the floor, his body curling over hers. The bullets stopped and they heard fighting, (Y/N) recognizing Allison’s grunts. Diego moved himself from his sister and allowed her to climb onto his back again. She whimpered as she willed herself to move and wrap her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. When Diego stood, the two intruders had been thrown out of the room by Luther. Allison whirled towards Diego with wide eyes.

“Who the hell are these guys?! (Y/N), did they hurt you?!”

“Yeah, kinda…” She sighed as Luther turned to them.

“You’re welcome.” His words made (Y/N) groan as Diego shifted her on his back.

“I was doing fine!”

“Oh, yeah, you really had them-”

“(Y/N) is fucking hurt, what the hell did you want me-” Diego stopped talking when the intruders started shooting once again, everyone ducking down. In his haste, (Y/N) had fallen off his back and landed on the ground. She started to do an army crawl out of the room along with her brother, who yelled for Luther and Allison to go. When the two were on their feet again, Diego grabbed her hand and continued to run, the intruders heading to the opposite direction. “We need to get you to a safe place!”

“Nowhere is really safe at this point!” (Y/N) let him drag her wherever. He eventually stopped and turned her towards him. Sweat covered her forehead and blood seeped through her pants. Her eyes met his, full of concern. She shook her head and shakily sung her tune, her clone appearing beside them. Hating the order she was about to give, she clenched her teeth. “Protect me,” Immediately, the clone went to attack Diego, but (Y/N) stopped it, climbing onto its back. “Follow Diego.”

Just as the three headed towards the basement, where the shorter of the intruders had followed Allison, Klaus had been dancing around the house, completely unaware of the threat around him due to the headphones he wore. (Y/N)’s clone from earlier simply followed, standing to cover him if any bullets came near. When the three entered the basement, they saw that Allison had just been struck and was now leaning over the pool table, her lip bleeding. “You wanna rumor this psycho?” Diego questioned, Allison wiping her lip.

“I don’t need to, because this bitch just pissed me off.” She spit before turning to the woman.

“We just want the boy.” She tried to explain before Allison attacked her. Five… These bastards are looking for Five… (Y/N) thought. That information alone made her blood boil. She hopped off her clone’s back just as Allison was kicked to the ground by the intruder. Diego whistled as he approached her, the two starting their own fight. Following its second order, the clone stepped forward to follow Diego, but turned back to the stumbling (Y/N). It was confused, and she could tell. (Y/N) quietly cursed before commanding it to help her fight. The intruder broke away from Diego and Allison and headed towards (Y/N) and her lookalike. Number Eight smirked and grabbed her clone by the hand, using all her strength to swing it around. It used its legs to kick off the wall and then the woman in her chest, causing her to fall to the ground with an “oomph!”. The clone, after landing on its feet, steadied (Y/N) by her arms. This gave the intruder time to stand and make her way out of the room, but not before Diego launched, what (Y/N) could only tell as something sharp, into her leg. She cried out in pain, but continued up the stairs. The four followed her not too long afterwards, but lost her once they were at the top. (Y/N) whimpered again and hummed her second tune, the clone disappearing.

“You good?” Diego held onto her, receiving a nod in answer.

When the three made their way to the entrance, Allison cried out to Luther, who was laying on the ground in pain. (Y/N) wanted to join the two in helping him up, but her strength was wearing out, so she leaned against the wall. Looking up, she saw the female intruder going to mess with the chandelier. Luther had noticed at the same time, for they both called out for their siblings to watch out. Luther pushed Diego and Allison out of the way, allowing it to land on him. (Y/N) slumped to the floor as her breathing got shallow. She could only hope Luther had been safe before she blacked out, but not before she sang her three-note tune almost silently.

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(Y/N) awoke to a sharp pain in her leg. She almost shot up, but felt a hand on the flat of her chest. It was Allison. “H-Hey, hey, it’s okay, sis. Just patching your leg up…”

“W-Who?” (Y/N) turned her head to see her clone, silently stitching up her leg. She let out a breath and relaxed against the cushions of the couch she was laying on. She turned her head to Vanya, who was nursing her own bleeding head with a rag. “Shit, Vanya, I didn’t even know you were here. You okay?” She received a nod from her sister before she heard footsteps. Diego walked in, his breathing shaky. Vanya looked up and called out to him softly. He turned to her with a cold stare.

“What are you still doing here?”

“I’m just trying to help-”

“No, you could’ve been killed! Or got any of us killed. Shit, we’re lucky (Y/N) didn’t die from blood loss!” He yelled before leaning closer to Allison. “She is a liability.” He muttered before heading towards (Y/N). Kneeling in front of her, he watched her face scrunch up in pain as the clone lifted her leg slightly to wrap it up. She reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m okay, don’t worry…”

“I told you not to help.” He slightly growled and held the hand on his shoulder. Past the growl, (Y/N) detected a whimper. Looking into his eyes, she felt the pain in his stare. Only it was a type of pain she knew all too well.

“Diego, what happened…?” She whispered just as she saw Vanya stand from the corner of her eye. She and her brother turned and watched her leave.

“Vanya, wait.” Allison tried to rush after their sister, but Diego told her to just let Vanya go, that it was for the best. (Y/N) heavily sighed and let her head fall back against the cushions. She hoped Five was doing fine, wherever he was.

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Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @43sparrows @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya

:: Fanfiction ::

Under The Sky's Blanket

II. Last Night

TW // mentions of Smoking addiction

I was never much into astronomy. I know my father was at some point, he had all these books stacked on a shelf that he read from time to time. At some point, he gave me one of the books when I was 10. It was a book about constellations. I remember being starry-eyed when he gave the book to me, excited about drawings in the stars.

I wish I had brought the book with me. I’ve forgotten about it ever since I entered high school, fully dedicating myself to study medicine because of Father’s illness. Believe me, I’m fascinated about medicine and I am planning on taking a scholarship on it next year, but I wonder if things would have been different if I pursued astronomy instead.

I suddenly miss that feeling, of knowing something I wasn’t expected to know. Perhaps I had not been the smartest or most intelligent kid in high school, but my passion for the stars back then felt real. My dreams of becoming a doctor, were they all because of a feeling of obligation? ‘I want to help people heal, recover from illness just like Father’ I said back then, people praised me for being noble and kind about it all. Would it be a sin to say I wanted to do something else?

I couldn’t sleep, clearly. Thoughts of the future haunted the back of my head, clawing the skin on my back. Achilles, who was laying beside me on the back of his car, suddenly sits up groaning. I open my eyes just by the slightest, they’re irritated by having them closed for a while now. He sits there for a bit, back facing my body. I can’t see his face, but his head of hair still glimmers under the moonlight. I can’t help but huff a quiet laugh, he probably noticed I was awake, but chose to not say anything.

Achilles gave me mixed signals, he can be the most stubborn man in the world, yet it’s times like this when he seemed so patient - with me.

He finally stands with a sigh, and steps out to the outside, leaving the comfort of our makeshift bed on the back of his truck. He still chooses not to say anything, I don’t either. The silence filled with the swooshing of wind, and without him beside me, I feel like shivering.

Achilles walks farther from the truck. That was when I sat up, small anxiety bubbling in me. I was scared he’d leave me here, even all rational thought contradicted that. Still, I’m plagued with ‘but’s and ‘what if’s once more. I wish I wasn’t like this.

The stars look dimmer here, I noticed. I moved the edge of the truck, trying to see if I could catch where Achilles had gone off to. It calmed me to see he didn’t stray too far off. It’s a bit dark, so I can’t tell what he was doing. Curious, I followed him, trying to be as quiet as I could but I’m sure Achilles had sensed me.

I stood beside him, he was lighting a cigarette then, taking a drag of it before putting the lighter back to his pocket. I hardly noticed he brought a pack with him when we were leaving Troy.

“I know, I know, the cigarette is bad for your health and it’ll damage your lungs, I get it.” He laughs breathlessly, as he removes the cigarette from his mouth, smoke slowly emerges from it. I scrunch my nose, a sense of familiarity burns in me.

Mother used to hate it when Father smoked. I did too, at some point, but I accepted it back then. They’d argue about Father smoking in the house, then Father would mutter something close to an exasperated apology and leave the house to finish his smoke. Mother would shake her head, huffing before going back to what she was doing in the kitchen. Then Mother died, Father got sick, and I had to constantly monitor his smoking. I’ve grown to dislike it ever since, and it didn’t help when Achilles started smoking as well.

“You said you’ll stop.” My voice was small, I don’t expect him to respond. He doesn’t for a while, Then he does. “I know.”

He turns to me, a sad smile forming. “And I will. Mom’s going to get in my head if I abuse cigarettes now, especially before I enter college, you know.” I don’t think I fully trust him, but I could for now. I wouldn’t be there for him anyway, why should I care so much?

Speaking of which, despite Achilles and I going on this trip on a whim, we’ve never talked about what would happen next. Perhaps we were trying to avoid that conversation as much as possible. I don’t blame us for that, I’m not really sure what to answer “What now?” anyways. Us being in contact through it was out of the question.

His mother hated me and was dreading separating him from me. She’s allowed this friendship to last far too long, it was about time she came and took her son back. I don’t know how far she’ll go, but that probably meant cutting ties with Achilles, as much as I don’t want to. But maybe it would be good for Achilles. He’d finally be able to take the path his Mother wanted for him, without distractions this time.

Sometimes, I envied him for that. He had a path laid out for him, all of it on a silver tray, yet he wants to spend his time focusing on different things, on this road trip, on my pitiful life. I didn’t get it, especially back then. Resentment used to grow inside me, I didn’t have a plan in life, all of my will to live died along with Mother. I’m not even sure if I even wanted my college course anyway, would it be worth sacrificing 8 years of my life to something I’m not sure I’d be happy doing? And if I wasn’t going to take medicine then what else would I take? Astronomy? Like hell I’d ever excel in that.

Achilles had a path of something he was glad to do. While I’m here second guessing a path I’ve made myself for so long that I don’t even know if there are other paths.

Achilles takes a drag from his cigarette, sighing deeply as he did.

“Anything on your mind?” I asked.

He shook his head, “No,” Only to contradict himself later, “You think Mother is going to hunt me down if I don’t go home after this?” He asks lightly, he wears a grim grin. I can’t tell if he is joking or not.

“Maybe.” I know it’s a light answer, even more so a half-truth one. She will hunt him down.

I’m thankful my resentment for Achilles never grew from the slightest pangs of envy. His family controls him, this path controls him and even if he knows what he’s doing, he’s still bound to what his mother says, it was never his own will. It was comforting knowing I wasn’t the only one struggling with this ‘path of life’ thing. But I can’t help but think Achilles is yards past me.

At least he was doing something, something to keep grip on his life. He was on this road trip right now, even if his Mother forbade it. He took risks, and he’s always struggling to get away from that grip through those risks. All I ever did was cry about my sad and pathetic life. I wish I could be a risk-taker like Achilles.

When will I ever stop wishing and start risking too?

But where do I start?

I look to the skies, I used to know the lines between stars well then. I reached out, my pointer finger ever slightly creating imaginary lines between white dots on the sky, like a connect-the-dots puzzles I loved as a kid. I thought it would bring back to me what I had missed all those years then, I wish I never forgot about them. I could hardly recognize a picture in the sky, all the lines disappear when I trace over them, leaving nothing.

“What are you doing?” Achilles nudges me, his cigarette has gone shorter now, an evidence of time passing.

“Nothing.” I mutter.

“It’s clearly not nothing by the way you started moving your finger around.” He laughs, I can’t help but smile too. I ignored my annoyance with him, it came naturally as it did with fondness.

“Father liked constellations back then.” I say, “I memorized them when I was a little kid, and it became a thing for me until high school rolled around. It’s disappointing I can’t remember a single one of them now.”

Achilles hums, finally getting rid of his cigarette. I hope he doesn’t smoke more during the rest of our trip. I worry about him sometimes.

He strides over next to me until we are shoulder to shoulder. I watch him as his eyes look to the stars, scanning it as if he was looking for something. For the years we’ve grown up with each other, this is the first time seeing him looking at the sky directly. Achilles’ world seemed to move so fast that he often went along with it. Ever rarely have I ever seen him be one with the world, it was a rare sight to see Achilles not moving for once.

Soon enough, he smiles at me. He points to a plethora of stars, “That one.”

I raised my eyebrow at him, “What about that one?”

He laughs, nudges me with his elbow, “It looks like a piece of bacon,” I wonder how he can find so much excitement in finding a bacon constellation in the sky. It’s contagious too, I find myself in his direction as I look to the area he was pointing before. It does look like bacon in some angles. It was a line of stars, zigzagging from one corner to another, but close enough to form the semblance of a line in the middle.

“It does look like a piece of bacon…” I muttered, then chuckled, “I don’t remember a bacon constellation in my books back then.”

He pauses, looking at me. He should stop doing that, that look of his. Something might dangerous might happen.

“Let’s create our own constellations from now on.”

Now it was my turn to look at him, my breath stuck at my throat. Not sure what to say nor think, but he was inviting me. So I nodded, and began drawing in the sky as well.

We told them to each other, Achilles saw a horse, I saw a bird. He’d point out that one particular drawing looks like our old English teacher, a cranky old man who could not be bothered with teaching us actual English. We laughed about them, made jokes about the drawings we found. Intimate it was, like a secret, a piece of knowledge from the library of Alexandria itself, that only he and I knew. It was special, it was dumb in many ways. and it mattered most to two people only, he and I.

I don’t tell him, however, of the other figures I see in the night. Of the swift-footed boy I see, winning another race and being applauded by a crowd of millions. Of a guitar this swift-footed boy plays that he had swore to play for me and me alone. Of the boy glowing in radiance, of eyes sharp and hair long. The sky is not as bright as him, the sky does not have the same green eyes as him. Yet, I still see him. Him and him alone.

No matter our shared secrecy, he would always be 5 steps ahead of me. We are the same, but different. My simple words would not be able to reach him.

Distant

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GenderNeutral!Reader (if there are any mistakes feel free to message me!) 

Requested: No

Summary: You don't want to bother the team with something personal happening in you life so you begin to pull away from them until you can’t hide it anymore.

Word Count: 2,689

Warnings: a little angst but mostly fluff, literally just Hotch being super sweet and supportive and caring

A/N: This took me too long to finish but here we go! As always my requests are open! 

You’d been distancing yourself from the team more and more lately. At first it was just saying no to drinks or dinner every once and awhile to them having stopped asking you all together. You knew it was for the best though. You didn’t need them to pity you. The truth of the matter was that your mother was very sick, and you’d been taking her to as many appointments as you could or simply hanging out with her when you were home. It had been just you and her for a while now. Your father having passed some years ago. You’d always been a little stubborn and always insisted you could do things on your own. You didn’t need help or for others to feel sorry for you, so you distanced yourself from them and focused solely on helping your mother feel better.

This morning you’d gotten up early to go over to her place to check on her and bring her breakfast.

“Hi mom, I brought you food!” You announced as you walked in her house.

“We’re in here dear.” She yelled back from the living room. You walked in to see her sitting in her favorite chair as her nurse helped her with her medicine for the day. You’d decided to hire a nurse to come by daily to check on her when you’d come home from a case and saw that she’d forgotten to take her medications while you were gone. This allowed you some comfort when you had to leave knowing she’d have someone here daily to be with her or take her to her appointments.

“Hi Alice, how’re you?” You asked the nurse while sitting on the couch

“Doing good, your mother is arguing with me on how much she moves in a day. I’ve been telling her that she needs to wait for me to come over before coming down the stairs in the morning and also wait for me to come back by and help her in the evenings when you’re away.”

“I’m not that old, I think I can get up and down the stairs on my own.” Was her argument back.

“Alice is right mom, with how your joints are and the medication you’re on, you should really wait for her to help.” You spoke while you and Alice gave each other a look knowing she wasn’t going to listen.

“Whatever.” was your mother’s only response as your phone pinged with a message.

“I have to go to work now but I love you mom and listen to Alice!” you said as you stood and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

--

“Hey guys sorry I’m late.” You announced as you walked in and Penelope stood up to give the briefing. You guys were headed to a rural town in Nebraska where 3 unidentified bodies had shown up. As you all stood up to grab your bags and head to the plane JJ stopped you.

“You okay Y/N? You look tired.” She asked caringly but you also knew that she was being a little nosey since you too had been the closest before you made the decision to push them all away.

“Oh yeah I’m fine. Just had to wake up earlier today.” You answered as you walked out, not a lie but also not the whole truth.

--

You sat across from Hotch as you guys individually looked over the files after y’all decided who would do what after you all land.

“What did you have to do this morning?” He asked you suddenly

“Excuse me?” You asked kind of annoyed

“I heard you tell JJ that you had to wake up early for something and I was just curious as to what it was.” He spoke quietly and calmly, and you could tell how much he cared in his eyes. They were all worried about you, you could tell but you didn’t need to bother them with your problems, so you just blew off their intrusive questions.

“I just had some errands to run.”

“On the other side of town?” He questioned and you just gave him a confused look. “The coffee cup you had this morning is from a coffee shop that’s at least 20 min from your apartment with traffic at that time in the morning.”

“Don’t.” was your only response.

“Don’t what?” he asked a little confused.

“Don’t try to profile me Aaron.” He was honestly one of the hardest ones not to talk to about everything that was going on. All you wanted to do was confide in him about how you were feeling and have him tell you that it was going to be okay. But he was already so busy with running the team and raising Jack that you couldn’t add your problems to his life too.

“Ok. Just know that we all miss having you around more outside of working cases.”

You just sighed and you both went back to look at your cases.

--

It had taken you and the team 2 days to track down the killer and apprehend him. As you began to take the pictures down and put them into the boxes you phone began to ring. Your heart began to race when you saw that it was Alice calling. There was no one else in the conference room with you, so you subtly closed the door and you answered the call. You didn’t realize that Hotch had noticed the change in your demeanor as he watched you through the window and made his way over to the room.

“Alice what’s happened?” you question because it was late and there was no way that she was calling you with good news.

“I was running a little late tonight and I guess your mom got impatient and tried to go up the stairs by herself, but her leg gave out and she fell down the stairs. I’m so sorry Y/N.”

You felt the earth shift beneath you as you grabbed the back of a chair to steady yourself. You didn’t hear Hotch come into the room when you went to answer.

“Is she okay?” you asked as your voice broke a little.

“They’re not sure, we’re in the ambulance now on the way to the hospital. She was unconscious when I got there, and I don’t know how long it had been before I arrived.” She answered frantically.

“Okay, keep me updated with what they say. We just finished here so I’ll be flying back tonight so text me which hospital you are going to and I’ll meet you there after I land.” You spoke calmly as a single tear rolled down your face.

“Okay I will. I’m so sorry Y/N, I should have gotten there sooner but my other patient didn’t want to take her night meds so I had to- ”

“It’s okay Alice,” you began as you interrupted her and took a deep breath. “It’s not your fault. She’s stubborn and we’ve been fighting her on this for a while. All we can do now is wait and hope for good results.”

“Okay you’re right. I’ll text you any updates and I’ll see you when you get here.”

“Thank you.” Was the only responds you could give before hanging up and letting the tears fall.

“Y/N” you heard Hotch speak up behind you

“Oh, hey I’m just finishing up in here and we should be good to go soon.” You spoke trying to even out your tone and casually wipe the tears from your face before turning around. You didn’t know how long he’d been in the room but judging from the furrowed brow and the concern in his eyes you knew he’d at least heard some of your phone call.

“Please tell me what’s going on.” He spoke softly as he stepped closer to you.

“That was my mom’s nurse, she fell at home and they’re taking her to the hospital now.” You managed to get out.

“Nurse?” He asked clearly confused

You just shook your head “It’s a long story.” You said as the tears began to fall.

Hotch brought you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. We’ll get you home and it’ll be okay.” he whispered into your ear as he gently rubbed his hands up and down your back.

The rest of the team watch this exchange through the open window, and you were met with curious looks as you walked out of the conference room with tear stained eyes. You knew you finally had to tell them.

--

“So basically, the last few months they’ve just been trying her on different medications to try and ease her pain but her fall tonight could be a big setback if she recovers from it.” You spoke quietly while the team sat around you on the plane. You sat next to Hotch and while you two weren’t explicitly touching his leg was pressing into yours and the warmth from him beside you was a comfort.

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell us that this was happening?” Derek questioned quietly.

You just let out a deep sigh, “I’ve always handled things on my own and I didn’t want to burden you guys with my family problems.” You stared at your hands instead of looking at any of the concerned faces around you.

“But you are a part of our family Y/N, we would have been there for you.” Rossi spoke up after a moment.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never been good at sharing.” You let out a strained laugh trying to lighten the mood, but everyone just remained quiet. “I didn’t mean to hurt you guys by pushing you away, I thought I was doing what was best.” More tears began to fall, and you hated being this vulnerable in front of everyone, but you didn’t have the energy to hide it anymore. These last few months had been really hard for you.

“What’s best is you not trying to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders when you have all of us here to help carry it for you.” JJ said while reaching across the table to grab your hand.

“Thank you” was all you could manage to say before the plane fell silent again, the emotions in the air too heavy.

“I think we should let Y/N get some sleep before we land.” Hotch spoke after a while and everyone dispersed to their respect spots on the plane to rest too.

Hotch began to stand up too but you reached for his hand.

“Please stay.” You spoke quietly as a soft smile spread on his face.

“I’ll be right back; I was just going to make you some tea.”

“Oh, thank you.” You felt a small blush on your cheeks as he walked away.

You were asleep before he got back.

--

You felt a small nudge and immediately opened your eyes. You were pulled into Hotch’s side with his arm around you and your head resting on his chest. You leaned your head back to see Hotch looking down at you.

“Hey, we’re landing soon.” he whispered to you before he went back to looking over other case files.

“Aaron?” you ask softly not wanting to break this intimate bubble you two had at the moment.

“Mhm?” was his only response

“Thank you” you moved your head back down and snuggled closer into his side. He just softly kissed the top of your head.

The plane landed shortly after that and you made your way to the hospital. Alice immediately made her way to you when you walked in.

“She’s still in surgery. She has a broken leg and some bleeding in her brain but from the last update they sounded hopeful.” She stated all in one breath and not meeting your eyes.

“Thank you, Alice, for staying but you should go home and get some rest now that I’m here.” You gave her a soft smile.

“Okay, text me any updates.” She said while gathering her things

“I will.” You answered softly but all you could think about were the words “bleeding” and “brain”.

You heard a soft “excuse me” come from her as she walked out of the small private waiting room, but you didn’t look up as she left.

“How is she?” you head a familiar male voice ask from behind you and you spun around.

“Aaron?” I guess you shouldn’t have been surprised but you guys had just gotten back from a long case and you were sure Hotch was dying to see Jack so you wouldn’t have even thought to ask him to go to the hospital with you instead of seeing his son.

“After everything we said on the plane you didn’t think we’d let you go through this alone right?” he spoke as he came closer to you.

“We?” was all you managed to say before the rest of the team came in, including Penelope.

“Seriously Y/N, we just talked about how we’re here for you.” Emily spoke as she came to your side.

“I know but we just got home and y’all are probably tired, so I didn’t want to ask any of you to stay here in a hospital for who knows how long.” A single tear rolled down your cheek because you felt so damn loved by these 7 people.

“We all got a little sleep on the plane and there’s nowhere else any of us would rather be right now.” JJ spoke from in front of you as the team had gathered into a circle in the middle of the waiting room.

“Any updates?” Spencer spoke up after a minute.

“Yes, Alice was here and said that she was in surgery. She broke her leg and I guess there was some ble-” your breath caught in your throat as you began to really digest the information, Hotch grabbed your hand and lightly squeezed it as you took a deep breath before continuing, “um some bleeding in her brain but I don’t know how recent that was.” You finished while trying to keep the tears that threaten to reappear from falling.

“I’m on it!” Garcia said while stepping away to go track down some poor nurse.

“I’m going to go with her, so she doesn’t get kicked out of the hospital.” Morgan said before following her out.

The room fell silent again as you looked up at Aaron, who was still holding your hand, and he used his other hand to brush some hair out of your face. The two of you just stood there looking into each other’s eyes before you heard Rossi clear his throat. You broke the eye contact and looked towards the floor with a blush. Your hand stayed firmly in his though.

“Emily and JJ do you think you could find some coffee for everyone?” They both nodded, looking at the two of you with soft smiles before leaving. “Reid and I will go find snacks.”

“I’d actually like to stay here to hear what the doctor says.” Reid responded, not understanding that Dave was actually trying to give the two of you some privacy. Dave just sighed.

“Then go find Garcia and learn what you can.” He said while lightly shoving him out of the room. After he got Spencer out, her turned in the doorway.

“I approve of this.” He said while winking and pointing between the two of you causing you to blush even harder and step away from Aaron.

You made your way to one of the two-person bench seats and Hotch sat beside you. He place his arm behind you and you snuggled into his side, still exhausted from the case and travel you closed your eyes and focused on the sound of Hotch’s heartbeat.

You both stayed there for several minutes and Aaron probably thought you had fallen asleep when he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and spoke so softly you weren’t actually sure he had spoken.

“I love you Y/N.”

Febuwhump day 27 - “I wish I had never given you a chance”

My first fic with Morgan!!! I LOVE HER ahhh. Hope you enjoy this one- the second last :'( <3 And thank you- sincerely, for everything. 

Summary:  During a relaxing weekend at the cabin, Peter offers to help Tony with some chores. When things go awry (as they often do), they learn that under no circumstance should Peter ever pursue a career in carpentry.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138196/chapters/73158711

------

Peter enters the room with a yawn, throwing his arms back in a wide stretch. As if knowing it’ll catch him off guard Morgan launches herself at him, wrapping her tiny arms around his middle. His breath gusts out of his lungs in surprise but he recovers quickly, smiling and reaching down to ruffle her hair. “Well good morning to you too.”

“Peter!” Morgan lets go of the hug and proceeds to dance around him. “Let’s play!”

Tony smirks from his position on the couch, a tablet balanced on his knee. Him and Peter share a knowing look before Peter nods enthusiastically and is dragged off.

Later, they race back into the room, Morgan curled around Peter in a piggy back ride. He deposits her on the couch and she giggles, rolling onto her side and latching onto Tony.

“Looks like you two are having fun,” he observes.

“Yes!” Morgan says, breathless from their game. “Lots of fun.”

“Lots and lots of fun,” Peter repeats, giving Morgan a wink while she laughs. He turns to Tony. “What’re you working on?”

“Trying to find someone to fix our roof, actually.”

Peter draws his eyebrows together. “What’s wrong with your roof?”

“The wind storm last week took off a bunch of the shingles. It’s not really a big deal but Pepper keeps pushing for me to call someone. Something about not wanting a leak when it rains, yadda yadda.”

“Mom knows best,” Morgan cuts in.

Peter laughs in agreement. “Well I can fix it for you,” he says.

Tony raises his eyebrows behind his glasses before taking them off all together. “You’re telling me that you know how to put shingles back on a roof?”

The boy shrugs, his sheepish grin widening. “How hard can it be? Do you still have the shingles that blew off?”

“Yes.”

“Great! So all I need is a- a,” Peter grapples for the word, pulling his finger on an imaginary trigger in the air, “you know.”

“A nail gun?”

“Yeah! One of those.”

Tony considers it. It would be a hassle to have someone drive all the way out to the cabin to fix it, and he’s not getting any younger himself. “Are you sure? It’s almost a hundred degrees outside.”

“So?” Peter challenges, shrugging. “I’ve done worse in spandex.”

“That’s...true.”

“So do we have a deal?” Peter asks, thrusting out his hand as if it’s a formal agreement.

Rolling his eyes, Tony humours him. “Fine. I’ll go get the nail gun.”

----

The sun is blazing down on them when they make it outside and Tony uses his hand as a shield to watch Peter scale the side of the house with the last load of shingles. Advantages of super sticky powers: no ladders necessary. “Remember what I told you about nail gun safety!” he calls up after him.

“Stop being a worry wart!” Peter yells back.

Fair enough.

Tony steps back inside the house, relishing in the air conditioning and wiping his forehead on his sleeve. He doesn’t make it two steps before Morgan latches onto him, her small fingers covering his. “Play with me?” she asks.

Truthfully he has a mountain of work to do. But he’s never been one to be able to resist either of his kids requests, especially when they used their puppy dog eyes. It’s his greatest weakness and they know it. “Alright,” he concedes, “but only for a few minutes okay?”

“Deal!”

----

A few minutes turns into a few hours. Tony doesn’t realize until his watch beeps at him, pulling him out of a memorizing episode of Paw Patrol while they scribble with crayons in a princess coloring book.

“Holy- it’s almost two!”

Morgan doesn’t seem to care and continues drawing. “So?”

His mind is working too frantically to explain so he just stands, setting his coloring supplies off to the side. “Stay here, okay? Dad’s just gonna check on Peter.”

“Okay,” Morgan replies happily, picking up a blue crayon.

Heart in his throat, Tony practically runs to the back door. He skips the three steps to the grass and glares up at the roof. If possible, it feels even hotter out, and the nagging worry in his stomach triples. “Peter!” he calls up. “Peter? Are you still up there?”

There’s a long, sinking silence. Tony is two seconds away from grabbing his suit to blast up there himself before Peter’s head pokes out over the edge.

“Oh no Pete-”

“Mr. Stark!” the boy slurs, giving a sluggish wave from his perch. His face is beet red, his eyes unfocused. “Almost- almost done.”

Tony does everything within his power to stay calm. “No! Nope. You’re done, kiddo. You hear me? Time to go inside.”

“Wha- what? There’s only a- a couple more.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony argues, “you can barely string together sentences. Come down!”

Peter considers it as his eyes grow foggier. “Down?” he asks.

“Yes! Come down! You’re overheating up there!”

“Down,” Peter confirms.

Then he does something really stupid.

By the time Tony realizes where Peter’s boiling mind is taking him the kid has already rolled himself over the lip of the roof. He’s much too far to do anything but watch in horror as Peter plummets through the air and hits the grass with a loud oof.

“Peter Benjamin Parker!” Tony sprints towards the fallen boy, expecting blood and broken bones but instead hears laughing. He falls to the ground, the grass staining his knees and grabs Peter’s head with both hands. His skin is hot and sweaty to the touch. Too hot. Peter blinks up at him lazily, continuing to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Tony demands breathlessly.

Peter raises his finger, pointing up towards the sun. “I just- I just fell off the roof.”

“Oh lordy. You’re out of your mind.”

“I fell,” Peter repeats, then wheezes like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

“We gotta get you cooled down pronto.”

“I’m- I’m already cool.”

“You’re killing me here, kid. Not that kind of cool.”

Peter allows himself to be hoisted to his feet and sways dramatically once he’s there. His laughing tapers off as his face turns green and he clutches tightly onto Tony’s sleeve.

“Kid?” he prompts hesitantly. “You okay?”

The answer must be no, because Peter lunges away from him and spews out his last meal. Tony moans, rubs the kid’s back, and helps steady him when he finishes. “You done?”

Slowly, Peter nods.

“Alright kiddie. Let’s go run you a bath. How does that sound? Bring down that temperature of yours.”

“Mmm. Nice.”

Tony hoists Peter into his side and by some miracle manages to maneuver him into the house. Morgan doesn’t look up when they enter and Tony sends a silent prayer of thanks to the universe. They stumble to the bathroom and Tony sets Peter down on the toilet, only moving on to turn on the tub when he’s sure Peter won’t topple over.

“Feel weird,” Peter says.

“That’s because you baked in the sun like a goddamn potato. Why’d you stay out there that long?”

Peter swallows, his red face still tinged with green. Then, he shrugs, looking guilty. “Thought I could do it. Harder than it looks.”

“Kid-”

“I should’ve been able to- to do it.”

“I wish I had never given you a chance in the first place,” Tony counters, but it just makes Peter look more miserable so he sets a comforting hand on the kid’s shoulder. “I mean don’t get me wrong kiddo. You did great. Your self preservation skills just suck.”

Peter perks up a little. “Get that from you.”

“That’s not exactly a compliment.”

“Oh. It’s not?”

“Yeah not so much.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Peter’s mouth splits into a smile and Tony feels his heart do a backflip. God, he loves this idiot child.

“The rational thoughts will come back when we get you cooled down,” Tony promises, a smile of his own tugging at his lips.

“Okay. Then I can finish the- the roof?”

“Nope. Not in a million years. Sorry to break it to you kid, but carpentry isn’t really your calling.”

And for once, Peter agrees with him.

The Other Way Around - 4th Chapter

A Daiya no Ace Fanfic

Warning: Not Beta Read, English Grammar Nazi be warned! ( `ε´ )

Summary:

Kanemaru always acts like a mom when it comes to Sawamura. Always. Always looking out for him, no matter how much the blonde boys denied it. But now that he’s sick, it’s Sawamura’s turn to take care of him.

Note: Different settings and timelines for each character. Check out source below for AO3 version.

Characters: Sawamura Eijun, Kanemaru Shinji, Seto Takuma, Kominato Haruichi, Furuya Satoru, Toujou Hideaki, Yoshikawa Haruno

Chapter 4: Kanemaru Shinji

Half an hour had passed but the frowning southpaw pitcher still found himself staring at the very first question on the assignment he was trying to solve on his own. As it turned out, trying to do his homework by himself seemed impossible at the moment. So what the pitcher did is let out a small sigh, stand up straight, pick up his notebook and a pen, and then step outside his dorm room.

As expected, I need Kanemaru to help me with this one.

Sawamura swiftly moved towards Kanemaru’s room. He went up the stairs, went straight through the other teammate’s dorm room, and barged the door open as he shouted his name.

“Yo! Kanemaru!”

There were two people currently in the room, one was the person he was looking for and the other was his bespectacled dorm mate. Both flinched upon hearing Sawamura’s voice.

“What is it!? My head’s aching! Do not make it worse!” the blonde boy blurted out as soon as he recognized the voice of their loud southpaw pitcher.

Sawamura walked to the middle of the room as he looked left and right, and then he paused as he noticed something.

“Kanemaru, your face is a bit red. Are you okay?” Sawamura asked as he moved closer to the other boy’s face invading his personal space.

“I’m fine. It’s just a headache. I’ll just rest for a bit and it’ll be gone,” Kanemaru replied as he backed away from the other boy’s intense staring.

The pitcher flinched upon hearing the word ‘rest’ as he frantically hid the notebook on his back.

“So? What have you come here for?”

“Oh. Uhm, that...”

“What is it?”

“Uhm. You see, I –“ Sawamura started, his other empty hand scratching the back of his neck. “I actually forgot!”

To avoid lying, because the boy was not used to it, Sawamura just laughed out loud.

“Huh!? Has your stupidity went up even further??” Kanemaru blurted out upon hearing Sawamura’s response.

After his laughing subsided, Sawamura’s face turned serious, and then he bowed politely at Kanemaru.

“This lowly Sawamura Eijun apologizes for disturbing you! I will come back when I remembered what business I have with you!” Sawamura responded as he turned his back at his classmate making sure that his notebook will not be seen.

“Oi, wait!” Kanemaru shouted but the other boy had left in a hurricane, not even bothering to look at him.

After the door went shut, a silent pause emanated the room.

“Geez. What’s up with that guy?” Kanemaru whispered as he scratched his head.

Seto, who was quietly observing the two snickered slightly at the sight.

“What is it, Seto?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just quite surprised that Sawamura-senpai can be considerate,” Seto replied at his senpai, still giggling.

“Considerate? That Sawamura? How so?”

“I guess he went here to ask for your help with his homework. But when he heard you want to rest, he changed his mind.”

“Wha – “ Kanemaru winced, his face slightly blushing. “Since when did that guy learned to be considerate? He wasn’t even the least apologetic when he kept on hitting me when he was practicing his pitching. He better makes sure he won’t fail any subjects! We’ll be in a pinch if our ace couldn’t join the tournament because he failed a class.”

“You really look out for Sawamura-senpai all the time,” Seto commented upon seeing Kanemaru’s reaction.

“Huh!? Who would care about that stupid guy!”

Just how much of a tsundere can this guy be? His awkwardness kinda reminds me of Koushuu.

After Kanemaru had finished his schoolwork, he went to bed early so he’ll be fully recovered the next day. Unfortunately, it didn’t go as he had expected. Upon waking up, Kanemaru felt even more tired, his throat was aching and he was feeling a bit warm too. Nevertheless, he still went to class.

“Good morning,” Kanemaru greeted as he went to his seat.

“Good morning! How are you feeling now, Kanema –“ Sawamura paused upon seeing his haggard-looking classmate entered the room. “Hey! Are you okay? I thought you’re going to rest yesterday! It looked like your state got worse! You did an extra practice yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Shut up, Bakamura. You’re the only one who’s gonna do something like that. Don’t expect others to act like you,” Kanemaru replied, slightly irritated at his growing headache.

“I think you should go to the infirmary,” Sawamura stated, ignoring Kanemaru’s jabbing at his stupidity. “Before it gets worse.”

“Yes. Yes. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Don’t just keep it in mind, do something about it!”

Sawamura was about to add some more retort but was suddenly interrupted when the bell rang and their teacher had entered the room. He went back to his seat but glanced a worried look at the blonde boy before sitting down.

During the entire day at class, Sawamura kept on pestering Kanemaru. He even asked their PE teacher to let Kanemaru rest instead of doing physical activities. He had explained to their instructor that his friend was not feeling good at the moment. The teacher, who was touched by Sawamura’s concern for his friend agreed. Sawamura then dragged Kanemaru towards the infirmary, not even listening to what the latter has to say.

“Pardon us for the intrusion!” Sawamura said in a not-so-loud manner. “My friend right here is very sick and he needs some rest, may I ask for your permission to let him rest?”

“Stop exaggerating, I’m not that sick.”

“That’s what very sick people say!” Sawamura replied with his hands on his hips.

The nurse, who had been observing the two argue as soon as they entered the room, just looked at them with a smile and cleared her throat to catch their attention. The two boys stopped arguing and just looked at her, waiting for further instructions.

“You can bring your very sick friend over here,” the nurse said as she motioned the two boys on the nearest bed by the window.

Sawamura thanked the nurse while he dragged Kanemaru towards the bed while the blond complained “I told you, I wasn’t that sick.” He still ended up following the pitcher’s pace as he had no more strength to argue.

Once Kanemaru had settled himself on the bed, the nurse took his temperature.

“It’s 38.5 degrees. I’ll get you some medicine. For now, you need to rest,” the nurse stated.

“We’ll have our lunch break after our PE class. Just stay on the bed until the break’s over, I’ll bring you lunch!” Sawamura mentioned as he was about to exit the infirmary. The boy had probably planned to let Kanemaru rest during PE class so he can extend his rest by another more hour during lunch break.

The room went silent when Sawamura left.

“Nice friend you have there,” the nurse spoke as she smiled at Kanemaru.

“Y-yeah.”

That was all Kanemaru replied. Sawamura was indeed a good and very loyal friend. He had proven it to him a few times already. And despite his constant naggings, Sawamura would complain but eventually, listen to what he has to say. Needless to say, he would never admit to the southpaw that he also considered him as his friend.

When their PE class finally finished, Sawamura changed to his uniform as fast as he could and even dragged Furuya to buy some lunch.

“Hurry up, Furuya! Kanemaru might be hungry right now! He needs to eat something so he can take his medicine,” Sawamura shouted as he noticed the distance between them increasing.

After buying lunch, they proceeded straight away to the infirmary. Furuya was the one holding their drinks while Sawamura was holding their lunch. By the time they arrived, Kanemaru was sleeping soundly. They waited for around 20 minutes before deciding to wake the boy up. Kominato and Toujou had arrived as well when they were contacted by Sawamura.

Kanemaru was already in the middle of waking up when he heard some voices surrounding him.

“Thankfully, it’s just a fever and not flu. According to the nurse, he’ll be okay in a day or two if he just has plenty of rest,” Sawamura mentioned to the other three teammates.

At that statement, Kanemaru heard some sigh of relief from the other guys. He then opened his eyes as he checked who Sawamura’s companions were.

“Oh, you’re awake now, Shinji. How are you feeling?” Toujou asked being the first one to notice the blonde boy waking up.

Before he replied, Kanemaru tried to sit up but he was lacking the strength to do so.

“Geez. What’re you doing? Don’t force yourself!” Sawamura said as he helped Kanemaru to sit on the bed. “Here, we brought you lunch.”

The three guys assisted as they looked for a small table they can put on top of Kanemaru’s bed so he can eat properly. Kanemaru noticed that there were some pudding, 3 rice balls, and then a thermos as they placed it on top of the table.

“I asked the staff from the cafeteria to make you some soup,” explained Sawamura. “Just in case you can’t eat the rice balls.”

“T-thanks,” Kanemaru whispered, his face still slightly flushed from the fever.

The other four students had rice balls for lunch as well so they could eat inside the infirmary. The nurse had allowed it since it won’t make a mess on the bedsheets. Luckily, it was only Kanemaru who was resting at the moment. After taking their lunch, the nurse gave Kanemaru another set of medicine. Surprisingly, he had eaten all the food that Sawamura gave him and drank some of the juices provided by Furuya. He was shocked when Furuya had offered him three different bottles, one 100% orange juice (the typical orange drink that Sawamura buys), one Pocari Sweat, and one ginger ale and told him nonchalantly, “It’s because you never asked me to buy drinks for you, I don’t have any idea what drink you would like.”

He placed the other two drinks on the bedside table and proceeded to drink the orange juice together with the medicine. Before the lunch break had ended, Kanemaru’s fever had gone down to 37.8 degrees. He was about to stand up from his bed but the nurse stopped him.

“That won’t do, Kanemaru-kun. I won’t advise you to go back to your class right now,” the nurse had reprimanded the blonde boy.

“But I already missed a class,” Kanemaru justified.

“You’ll miss more than just one class if you forced yourself right now. Your temperature is getting better. You need to rest more. You can go back to class once your temperature goes back to normal,” the nurse replied in a stern voice, her hands on her hips as if to intimidate the boy.

“O-okay. I’ll rest some more,” Kanemaru responded, slightly frustrated about the fact that he will miss some lessons.

“Don’t worry, Kanemaru! Leave it to me! This Sawamura Eijun will make sure to take down all the notes for all the lessons you’re going to miss,” Sawamura interjected.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Kanemaru facepalmed as he let out a small sigh.

“You’re so mean! What do you take me for?”

“Do you really want me to respond to that question?”

“Eijun-kun, Kanemaru, stop arguing already. We’re at the infirmary, remember?” Kominato interrupted.

The two stopped their arguing as they bade Kanemaru goodbye as their break’s about to end. Deciding that it would be much better to take more rest so he’d be all healed up by tomorrow, Kanemaru resigned himself to sleep.

The remaining time of the day went by in a flash. Sawamura was unexpectedly very attentive in the remaining classes, making sure to write down the notes he could comprehend while listening to his teachers.

By the time Kanemaru had woken up, it was already past 5 in the afternoon. Nothing could be heard except the clacking of the keyboard made by the nurse. He noticed that his headache was already gone and his throat was no longer aching. Kanemaru had drunk the ginger ale given by Furuya, maybe it helped. He sat up straight and looked at his surroundings, and then at his watch.

I’m late for practice!

“Oh, you’re awake now, Kanemaru-kun. How are you feeling now?”

“I feel better, all thanks to you,” Kanemaru replied politely, bowing slightly towards the nurse.

“Your energetic friend dropped by half an hour ago, he told me to let you know that he already brought your things back to your dorm room and that he will let your coach know that you can’t go to practice for today,” the nurse explained while measuring his temperature.

“I can’t go to practice today?”

“Of course not! Your temperature already went back to normal but if you push yourself, your fever might come back. I gave your friend some instructions so he’ll know what to do.”

The boy turned silent, frustration quite obvious on his face. But he just nodded as he stood up and fixed the bed. Before exiting the room, Kanemaru thanked the nurse once more for looking out for him.

“Get some rest! Drinks lots of fluids! Don’t push yourself too hard for today, got it?” the nurse instructed.

“Yes, ma’am!”

Kanemaru was walking along the corridor when he heard someone calling his name.

“Oi! Kanemaru!” the southpaw pitcher shouted as he ran towards the blonde boy.

“Sawamura? What’re you doing here?” Kanemaru asked upon noticing the boy wearing his baseball uniform, he was already slightly drenched in sweat.

“Good timing! I thought you’d be awake by now so I came to get you,” Sawamura replied as soon as he reached Kanemaru, slightly breathless from all the running, and beamed at his classmate.

“You’re really stupid, you know? I’m fine now so I can go to the dorm room on my own,” Kanemaru responded irritatingly but was touched by the pitcher’s concern.

“Who are you calling stupid! And dorm room my ass! If I didn’t come and fetch you, you might have probably ignored the nurse’s instructions and went straight to practice!” Sawamura retorted, flailing his arms wildly at his classmate.

“That’s –“ Kanemaru paused, unable to look at the intense staring of the other. “Not entirely true.”

“Which means you’re not denying it entirely either! See? It was a good move on my end to check on you. And just so you know, the coach was already aware that you have a fever so you’re not allowed on the grounds!” Sawamura exclaimed.

Kanemaru let out a small sigh and just replied, “Okay, I give up. Drag me wherever you want to drag me.”

“It’s good when you’re being this honest,” Sawamura smiled as he grabbed Kanemaru’s wrist with his left hand, literally dragging his classmate towards the dorm room.

Upon reaching Kanemaru’s room, Sawamura went out for a few minutes and returned with a few things on his hands.

“The nurse gave me some medicine. You still need to drink some after dinner. I bought you some drinks to keep yourself hydrated,” Sawamura explained as he put all the stuff he brought on Kanemaru’s desk. “You don’t need to go to the cafeteria, I’ll be the one to bring your dinner here.”

“You really don’t need to, I can – “

“No! It’s the nurse’s instructions! You need plenty of rest so you’ll be fully recovered by tomorrow! Oh, and by the way, the coach said you can start practicing tomorrow but just do some light exercises if you’re good by then, so for now, just rest, okay?”

“O-okay.”

“And don’t worry about the freshmen. I’ll take over your responsibility in checking their meals for tonight’s dinner. Leave everything to Sawamura Eijun!” the southpaw pitcher saluted.

“You really don’t have to do all these for me, you know? It kinda gives me the creep.”

“This guy! Since you’re sick, I’ll let it slide for now!” Sawamura paused for a moment before speaking once more.

“Besides, you’ve always been looking out for me. So I thought this time, I’ll be the one to look out for you.”

Sawamura just smiled at Kanemaru. The latter was touched, extremely touched that his brain had almost short-circuited that he didn’t know what to respond to Sawamura’s very sincere and honest words.

Geez. How can this guy say something like that? Really, his innocence and naivete know no boundaries!

Kanemaru, unable to find the right words to say, decided to choose the most convenient path to take – to run.

“I’ll be resting now, you can go back to your room,” Kanemaru spoke in a soft voice as he covered himself with a blanket, to hide his embarrassment of course, but Sawamura didn’t need to know that.

“Oh. Hmm. Okay. But you need to change your clothes first, okay? Don’t sleep on your uniform.”

“Yes. Yes. I got it.”

Sawamura observed Kanemaru for a few more seconds and decided to go back to practice.

During dinner, Sawamura pestered the freshmen non-stop about their meals. You would expect them to be annoyed but the kouhais were actually happy being doted upon by their ace pitcher except for one wolf boy who was releasing an emanating aura towards the pitcher which the boy just simply ignored. Ever since the last Spring tournament, before Sawamura became the ace, some of the first-year baseball players were already fanboying at the southpaw pitcher upon witnessing with their own eyes his excellent pitching.

After dinner was over, Sawamura went back to the dorm rooms, his hands occupied with a tray with some food on top of it. Seto accompanied him since they were going to the same room and opened the door for Sawamura.

“Kanemaru, are you awake? Here’s your dinner! Sorry, it took a while. Were you hungry?”

The blonde boy woke up to the sound of Sawamura’s voice. He sat on his bed as he looked at the southpaw pitcher holding a tray with his dinner on top. Upon seeing Kanemaru awake, he placed the tray on top of his desk.

“Seto, please look after Kanemaru for me. Make sure he eats it before it gets cold. I’ll just step out for a bit, I’ll be back.”

“I understand, Sawamura-senpai. Leave everything to me.”

“Ho… what a great kouhai you have here, Kanemaru! Now, don’t be stubborn and eat your dinner properly! I’ll be back!” Sawamura replied as he ruffled Seto’s hair and exited the room enthusiastically.

“He’s so energetic. I wonder where he’s getting all that energy,” Kanemaru commented as soon as Sawamura was gone.

He sat right next to his table. He checked his dinner and proceeded to eat. Kanemaru was still in the middle of consuming his dinner when Sawamura arrived.

“I brought all the notes you missed for today! I also bought some more drinks,” Sawamura said as soon as he entered the room without even knocking. Thankfully, both Kanemaru and Seto already got used to it.

“What? Whose notes did you borrow?” Kanemaru asked as reached for the notes placed on top of his desk trying to inspect the contents.

“Rude! That’s mine! I didn’t borrow it from anyone. I told you to leave everything to me, didn’t I?”

“Oh. That’s right. I forgot. But I’d never thought you’d diligently write your notes this time,” Kanemaru replied nonchalantly as he browsed through the notes, slightly satisfied with its contents knowing it’s Sawamura’s.

“Well, if I put my mind to it, I can do it too,” Sawamura whispered, slightly pouting at his classmate’s reaction.

“How about you keep on doing it every lesson?” Kanemaru replied, still busy looking at Sawamura’s notes.

“Sorry, Kanemaru-sensei! If I do that every day, Sawamura Eijun will not survive the entire school year!” Sawamura said in a loud voice.

Seto laughed at Sawamura’s reply while Kanemaru just facepalmed while reprimanding the southpaw pitcher saying “That’s nothing to be proud of!”

After finishing Kanemaru’s dinner, he drank his medicine, read some of Sawamura’s notes, and then went back to bed. Sawamura was busy chatting with Seto. As soon as he noticed that his classmate was already lying down, he picked the thermometer on the desk and checked Kanemaru’s temperature – 37.5 degrees.

“Your temperature seems normal now. I’ll put some of the drinks beside your bed so you can drink it if ever you got thirsty,” Sawamura stated as he arranged some bottles beside Kanemaru’s bed. “Get some sleep. Good night, Kanemaru!”

Sawamura smiled at the blonde boy but Kanemaru just shrugged. He turned his back towards the southpaw pitcher as he covered himself with a blanket.

The next day, Kanemaru was already fully recovered. When he arrived at their classroom, he noticed that some of his classmates were gathered in front. And at the center of it was the southpaw pitcher, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked intently on his notes while he listened to one of his female classmates explaining something to him. At times, some of his classmates would add something and Sawamura would intently look at the person as if to acknowledge that he was indeed listening.

After a few seconds of silence and some pondering on Sawamura’s end, his face brightened and shouted.

“Oh!!! I see!!! I get it now! I get it now!” Sawamura exclaimed as he wrote something on his notes.

“Sawamura-kun became the class’ little brother while you were not around, Kanemaru-kun,” Yoshikawa spoke as soon as she noticed the crowd in front of the room and Kanemaru’s confused expression.

“Oh, good morning, Yoshikawa-san,” Kanemaru greeted upon hearing the baseball manager’s voice.

“Good morning, Kanemaru-kun,” Yoshikawa responded with a smile to which Kanemaru blushed.

Apparently, Sawamura hadn’t finished his homework for his second class so he had requested the help of some of his classmates to explain to him how he should answer the last part. At first, he only asked one of his classmates, but Sawamura didn’t seem to get it. Some of his classmates got concerned and help with the explanation. And then the next thing they knew, there were around 10 people gathered at the front trying to help Sawamura finish his assignment.

“Thank you, everyone! It’s because of all of you that this lowly Sawamura Eijun was able to understand the lesson now! I love you all!” Sawamura shouted as he smiled intently at the group gathered around him.

Some were girls and some were boys, but all of them were blushing at the ace pitcher of Seidou. Some were ruffling his hair while some were offering him some food like they’re looking after a toddler.

That guy, not only was he getting even more popular with girls, he’s even getting popular with boys?? I’m so envious!!

Kanemaru’s internal monologue was interrupted when Hoshino spoke once more.

“Actually, it kinda started yesterday. During our last class, our teacher gave us the whole time for self-study. During that period, Sawamura was going around asking some of our classmates about the previous lessons that you were not around, comparing notes just to make sure you will not miss anything while you were sick yesterday. He’s just that kind of guy. He wanted to be of help to you so badly that our classmates felt like wanting to help him too.”

“To be honest, yesterday was one of those days where Sawamura was actively listening to the class. He even raised some questions and when the teachers would answer him, he’d request them to slow down because he’s trying to write it down. Some of the teachers were amused and touched that Sawamura is finally becoming a role model student,” Yoshikawa continued speaking so Kanemaru would have an idea what happened in the class yesterday.

Kanemaru was dumbfounded, unsure of what to say at what he just heard.

So that explains the clear contents of the notes he lent me yesterday.

Kanemaru was about to say something when Sawamura suddenly called him.

“Kanemaru! You’re back! Are you feeling fine now?” Sawamura shouted across the room, some of their classmates looking back and forth at the two.

“I’m fine. And don’t shout inside the room! You’re disturbing people!”

“Yo! Sawamura’s babysitter is now back! Geez. Don’t get sick! We’ve got our hands full yesterday looking after him,” one of his classmates said teasingly while the class laughed.

“Who’s babysitting who? You’re so rude!” Sawamura commented as he pouted at the boy.

Kanemaru noticed the light atmosphere emanating from the room. Everyone was laughing and he was hearing a few comments regarding Sawamura’s behavior yesterday.

As soon as Sawamura finished his homework, he went straight towards Kanemaru’s desk.

“It’s good to see you’re doing fine already. You can go back to practice now. But remember, just some light exercises, okay? Or coach will surely reprimand you,” Sawamura said.

“I know already. Geez. You’re such a worrywart,” Kanemaru replied.

“Of course, I’d be worried. You’re my friend after all!”

“Wha–“ Kanemaru was once again surprised by Sawamura’s honest response.

“You really are an idiot,” Kanemaru simply replied, intending to run away again from Sawamura’s unexpected words by infuriating their ace pitcher.

“And I keep on telling you, I’m not an idiot!”

“I’m fine now so you don’t have to worry,” Kanemaru interjected while intently avoiding Sawamura’s gaze. “I’m fine now so if there are things you don’t understand, feel free to bother me, just like you always do.”

When Kanemaru noticed that there was no response, he was forced to look at the southpaw pitcher. Sawamura was staring at him with a surprised look, his mouth slightly parted. And then he smiled brightly, comparable to that of sunlight.

“Thanks, Kanemaru!”

“Don’t get me wrong! I just don’t want you asking around girls for help. Your popularity is increasing so much that it pisses me off!!” Kanemaru blurted out as he put the pitcher’s head in between his knuckles.

“Eh? What’re you talking abou– “ Sawamura started but was interrupted by the sudden pain inflicted on him by the blonde boy. “Ouch! Kanemaru, stop! My head! It hurts! It hurts!”

And then the whole class laughed once more at their two classmates bickering at each other. Except for Furuya who has no intention of waking up until the school bell rang.

Unforeseen dangers ch. 6

Summary:  As Peter recovers from his capture by Ross, a photo of him with Tony and the Avengers leaks and is splashed all across the media. Luckily, no one can figure out who he is and everyone thinks the buzz will die down. However, the public’s interest has been ignited. While Tony worries it’s only a matter of time before Peter’s identity is exposed, Peter isn’t as concerned. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen anyway?

Read on AO3.

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“Merry Christmas!” Tony said the second Peter walked into the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.  The delicious smell emanating from the kitchen had woken him up and eventually enticed him to leave the sleepy comfort of his warm bed.

“Merry Christmas.” He said back with a smile.  His dad’s joy was infectious.  He plopped down on one of the kitchen stools and watched as Tony finished making pancakes.

“How’d you sleep?” Tony glanced over at him and smirked at his impressive bed head.

“Good.” He shrugged.  He’d had another nightmare about Ross, but it hadn’t been terrible, and he’d been able to fall asleep right afterward, so he didn’t think Tony needed to know about it.  He didn’t want to risk upsetting him on Christmas.

Tony flipped the pancake off the pan and piled it on top of five others already stacked on a plate.  Before pouring the batter for the next pancake, he placed the plate in front of Peter, along with the maple syrup.  “Here.  Breakfast is served.”

“Festive.” Peter commented with a smile.  The pancakes had green and red sprinkles intermixed in the batter.

“Tis the season.” Tony said and turned back to the stove.

Peter shook his head in amusement and couldn’t help but ask through a mouthful of pancake, “So once Christmas is over are you going to stop wearing that god awful hat or are you planning on dressing as Santa full time?”

The corner of Tony’s mouth turned up as he patted the Santa hat perched on top of his head as if he’d forgotten it was there.  “What?  This thing?  I suppose it’ll have to go back into retirement until next Christmas.  I don’t think I have the gut or the facial hair to pull off the Saint Nick thing.”

“Hmm.” Peter cocked his head to the side and eyed his dad up and down as if considering it.

“Not funny.” Tony waved the batter covered spatula at him and went back to his pancakes.  “Keep it up and just see if you get any presents from Santa.”

Peter twisted in his stool to glance into the living room.  “Huh.  Looks like he already came and left all the presents.”

Bright, holiday themed packages overflowed under the tree.  Peter really hoped they weren’t all for him.  If they were, it was way too much.

“Yeah well Santa giveth so Santa can taketh away.” Tony joked and flipped the pancake in front of him.

Peter had purchased only a couple of presents that were under the tree.  The big one he’d gotten for his dad wasn’t there yet.  The papers declaring his new name, that Pepper had handed to him a few days ago, still sat wrapped in shiny red paper tied in gold ribbon underneath his bed.

“Those aren’t all for me, are they?” He asked after he swallowed his next bite, the plate of pancakes in front of him almost half gone already.

“You’ll have to see.” Tony answered cryptically with a smug smile.

He shook his head.  “That’s too much.”

“Hey if I want to spoil my kid that’s my prerogative.  And since this is our first Christmas together, I had a lot of Christmases I missed that I had to make up for.”

“So you went overboard.” Peter sighed in resignation.

“Maybe just a little.” Tony turned the stove off and took his plate with a measly two pancakes over to the stool next to Peter, ruffling his hair as he walked by.  “But don’t worry.  They’re not all for you.  Some of them are for the team.”

“Good.”

“But most of them are for you.”

Peter groaned.

Tony went back to eating his pancakes with a self satisfied smirk.

Peter knew arguing about the presents would be pointless, so he didn’t even try.  “So, what’s the plan for today?” He asked instead.

Tony finished the bite of pancake in his mouth and answered, “Well first, I thought we’d have this amazing breakfast I slaved over.”

Peter snorted.

“And then we can open some presents.” Tony grinned.  “Everyone wants to do a big Christmas dinner thing tonight, but until then, we have the day to ourselves to do whatever you want.  I probably should’ve asked you this earlier, but did you and May have any traditions you want to celebrate?”

“Like what?” He asked, curious instead of hurt by the mention of his aunt.

“Like, do I need to change into a suit and have FRIDAY find a church nearby for us to go to?” His dad asked jokingly but Peter could tell he meant it.

“Oh.” He shook his head.  “No.  We didn’t do anything like that.”

“Ok.” Tony gave him a nod but seemed to be waiting for him to say more.

“Um, usually we’d open most of our presents on Christmas Eve, but there were a few we’d open on Christmas morning.  From Santa.” He clarified.  Even after he’d gotten old enough to know Santa wasn’t real, May and Ben had refused to give up the tradition so Peter had started giving them small presents ‘from Santa’ as well, no matter how much they complained that he shouldn’t.

Tony’s face twisted.  “Sorry kid.  I should’ve asked about all this stuff earlier.  We could’ve opened presents last night.”

“No, it’s fine.” Peter reassured him.  He didn’t mind.  He actually kind of liked that they were doing things a little differently.  It made it easier.  “Last night was fun.  I’ve never made Christmas cookies before.”

Tony still had a look on his face like he’d just eaten something sour, but he nodded.  “Ok.  What else do you usually do?”

“Oh.  Well, after presents, we’d eat breakfast, and then we’d just sit around the apartment and watch Christmas movies all day.” He shrugged.  “And we’d eat cookies, store bought ones, and hot chocolate and stuff.  Sometimes we’d play board games.” His brow furrowed slightly as he just remembered that.  “But we kind of did that more when Ben was around.”

“Eating junk food and watching movies sounds like exactly the kind of thing I can do.” Tony nodded and went back to eating his pancakes.

“I mean we don’t have to do that.” Peter said, pushing the last pieces of syrup doused pancake around on his plate.

“Ok.  Do you want to do something else?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” Tony gave him a one shoulder shrug and kept eating.  “Whatever you want kiddo.”

Peter pushed the pancake mush around some more and thought about it.  There wasn’t anything he could think of that he wanted to do.

“What did you use to do for Christmas?” He asked.

“Me?” Tony let out a dark chuckle.  “Back before I had myself more together, you don’t want to know.  It wasn’t exactly PG-13 friendly and it wasn’t happy.”

Peter’s felt his cheeks heat.  That wasn’t what he’d meant.  He was very aware of the escapades his dad used to get up to before he became Ironman and turned his life around.

“No that’s not…  I meant when you were a kid.  Did your family have any traditions?” He tried not to shrink back from asking the question.  Tony never talked about his parents, and Rhodey and a few of the others had made enough vague comments here and there for Peter to catch on to the fact that Tony hadn’t had the most idyllic childhood.

“When I was a kid…” Tony mumbled to himself as he considered it.  Peter thought he looked thoughtful instead of irritated, so the question didn’t seem to have been a mistake.  “When I was really young sometimes my mom’s parents would visit since my dad didn’t have any family left.  But by the time I was ten or so they were both gone, so it’d either be just the three of us at home, or we’d jet off somewhere for a vacation.  Mom liked to do that.  If we were at home, though, we’d have breakfast and then my mom would drag us to the morning church service.  She was Italian, and very Catholic.” Tony paused to give him a smile.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah.  Dad and I hated going ,but we did it for her.  She used to tell us we were lucky she wasn’t making us go to midnight mass.” Tony let out a short laugh.  “I remember I hated having to dress up on a day that was supposed to be a holiday.  And I was always starving because we didn’t eat breakfast until we got back home.  And then we’d open presents.” Tony paused to take another bite of pancakes and he shook his head.  “That’s one thing I can say.  There was never any shortage of presents.”

Peter nodded.  He could imagine.

“And then we’d usually go to the sitting room and Dad would read, and I’d mess with some new toy or gadget, and my mom would play the piano.  Christmas music usually.  And sometimes she’d make me play.”

“You play the piano?” Peter asked, surprised.  

“Yeah.” Tony smiled, and it looked like he was trying not to laugh at him.  “You didn’t know that?”

“No.” He frowned.  “You don’t even own a piano.  Do you?”  He glanced around the room as if it were possible his dad actually had a piano and he’d just never noticed it before.

Tony chuckled.  “No, I don’t anymore, but I used to.  At the house in Malibu.  It was a nice one.”

Peter figured it was probably more than nice.  Everything Tony owned was ungodly expensive, and Peter had heard of pianos that cost upwards of $50,000.  Flash’s dad had gotten one for his mom for some anniversary and Flash hadn’t stopped bragging about it for a week.

Tony quirked his head to the side as if just remembering something.  “But then I threw it at a helicopter.”

“What?” He asked in surprise.

“And then the house got destroyed.” Tony continued, patting syrup from his mouth with a napkin.  “And I never replaced it.”  He finished with a shrug.  

Peter blinked, trying to take all that in.  He had to be talking about the attack the Mandarin had made on his house.  Well, not actually the Mandarin, but the tech guy pretending to be the Mandarin.  But that’d been a long time ago.

“Why not?” He asked.  If he could play the piano, he couldn’t imagine not having one around, especially if he were someone like Tony who had the space for it and could definitely afford it.

“I just never got around to it.”

Peter’s eyebrows pinched together.  He sensed there might be something more to it than that but he didn’t want to push.

“Ok…  So, can we get a piano now?”

Tony blinked.  “Do you play?”

“No.  I always wanted to learn but it was too expensive.  It’d be cool to listen to you, though.”

His dad’s expression softened and he gave his shoulder a squeeze.  “I’ll teach you.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Ok.” He agreed quietly with a small smile.

“Then how about this?  Next year you can play me some Christmas songs.”

His smile widened.  “I don’t know if I’ll be good enough by then.”

“Sure you will.”

“Ok but only if you play too.”

A slight shadow seemed to cross his dad’s face even as he smiled.  “Deal.”

“It can be our new tradition.” Peter added, remembering how they got on the topic of the piano in the first place.  “Along with Christmas sprinkle pancakes.”  He shoved the last soggy piece into his mouth.  “Mmm.”

“Good, huh?” Tony finished the remaining couple bites of his own stack.

“Delicious.”

“So, presents and then movies on the couch?” Tony suggested as he took their plates to the dishwasher.  “You sure there’s nothing else you want to do?”

He thought about it again.  He just wanted to spend time with his dad.  His family.  It was what Christmas was all about. May and Ben had drilled that into him when he’d been younger and as he’d gotten older he’d realized the truth of it on his own.  Even though he’d lost so many people in his family, he still had a family.  A group of people that might not be related to him, but genuinely cared about him just the same.  And he had a dad that loved him.  Not everyone had that at Christmas.  He considered himself lucky.

“Wait.  I know what I want to do.” He said as the idea struck him.

“What?”

“Do you think we could go to some group homes and do a meet and greet with the kids?  Maybe hand out some presents?”

“You and me?”

“Ironman and Spiderman.” He clarified.  He knew going out as Tony and Peter right now wouldn’t work since they were supposed to be keeping their father son relationship secret.  

Tony’s brow furrowed as he considered it.

“I know it’s really last minute, and I guess I don’t even know where we’d get the presents…”

“That’s not the problem.”

“Ok.  Um, what is?”

“If it’s just you and me and somehow in the future the press finds out about us, it wouldn’t take much for them to connect you to Spiderman, especially if they catch us out together on Christmas day.”

“Oh.  I didn’t think of that.” It kind of bothered him that he hadn’t.  Honestly, he hadn’t been as worried about the whole press thing lately.  It’d died down and he figured if they just keep being careful then no one would ever find out Tony had adopted him.

“Let me see if anyone else on the team wants to tag along.” Tony suggested, pulling out his phone to shoot off some texts.  “We can even pair off and go to different group homes, so it’ll still be me and you, but this way it won’t be as suspicious if anything ever comes up.”

“That sounds good.” Peter nodded.

Once Tony finished texting, he stared at him with a warm twinkle in his eyes.

“What?  Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re a good kid.”

Peter shrugged and looked over his shoulder at the tree to cover his blush.  He still wasn’t good at taking compliments.  “So…presents?” He asked with an eager smile.

“Presents.” Tony agreed with a nod.

“This is too much.” Peter said for what felt like the millionth time as he finished opening his last present.  “You got me way too much stuff.”

“I’ve never heard a kid complain so much about getting presents.  Is this normal?  I don’t think it’s normal.  Do I need to have you checked out?”

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Do you like it?” Tony asked with a grin that’d been plastered to his face ever since Peter had started opening presents.

“I love it.” Peter turned over the Star Wars Super Star Destroyer Lego box in his hands, examining the picture on the front.  “But it’s still too much.”

Peter put it down and glanced over at the rest of his present haul, trying to keep his head from spinning.  Sometimes he forgot his dad was a literal billionaire but this had reminded him.  Tony had gotten him not one, but three, really expensive Lego sets along with the newest Playstation video game console that hadn’t even been released on the market yet, some video games to go with it, more nice clothes than he knew what to do with, a pair of sunglasses that looked like they cost more than his entire wardrobe, and a brand new laptop.

“Just let me spoil you this time.  I’ll do better next year.”

Peter snorted.  “Yeah right.”

He set the Lego box down by the others and stood from his spot on the floor to walk over to the couch to give his dad a hug.  “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome kid.”

“Sorry I didn’t really get you much.  You’re really hard to buy for.”

“I love everything you got me.  Don’t worry.” Tony gave him a squeeze and patted his back.

“Um, actually I have one more present for you.” Peter said, pulling away from the hug.

“Oh did I miss one?” Tony glanced back over at the tree.

“No.  It’s not under the tree.  It’s in my room.  Let me go get it.” He bounded off the couch to his room, excitement warring with nerves.

“A secret present you had to hide from me?  Now I’m definitely intrigued.” Tony called out after him.

Peter laughed even as his heart started to race, nerves winning out.  It took no time at all to grab the gift adorned in red and gold from under his bed and bring it back out to the living room.  He deposited it onto Tony’s lap with little fanfare, just an insecure smile, before sitting down on the couch next to his dad.

“First of all, I love the wrap job.  Why didn’t you do all my presents in my color scheme?” Tony joked, clearly trying to lessen Peter’s anxiety.

“Because they’re not Christmas colors, and this one’s not just a Christmas present.  I mean it is…but it isn’t.” Peter tried not to trip over his words as he explained.

“Now I’m even more curious.” Tony eyed the present in his lap.

“Open it.”

Tony pulled the ribbon off, flipped the present over and slid a finger through the crease of wrapping paper taped together at the back.  Peter swallowed hard as his dad removed the paper from the simple thin white box.  Tony glanced up at him briefly before he lifted the lid off.  He quirked his head in confusion at the sight of the stack of papers.

“This looks like something Pepper would give me for Christmas.” He joked and then started pulling the papers out of the box.  “What do we have here?”

“Um it’s…” Peter trailed off as he took the papers and flipped them to the end part where it would be clearer to his dad, skipping over all the other wordy legalese.  He handed the papers back and pointed.  “Read this part.”

Tony frowned but studied the papers in his hand as Peter studied him.  He could tell the exact moment his dad realized what the papers meant.  His eyebrows flew up and his mouth opened in shock as his head whipped over to look at him.

“Peter.” Tony said and Peter didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing that he sounded gutted.  Hopefully good.

“Do you like it?  I um—”

Before he could say anything else, Tony wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into his chest, kissing the top of his head roughly.  “I love it.  I can’t even tell you how much I love it.  But kid, you didn’t have to do this.”

Peter pulled back a little so he could look up at him, and he could see his dad was tearing up.  “I know.  I wanted to.”

“It’s…  I…” Tony shook his head when he couldn’t figure out what to say.

“Wow.  I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you speechless before.” Peter teased, nerves receding because he’d obviously done a good job with the present.  He hadn’t overstepped.

Tony looked back down at the papers in his hands and read the name printed there.  “Peter Parker Stark.  It has a nice ring to it.”

“That’s what Pepper said.”

“Pepper helped you?”

“Yeah she was great.  She actually had to sneak some of the pages in for you to sign when she gave you some other SI paperwork.  Good thing you never read anything, right?  Um, I hope that was ok…”

“It’s more than ok.” Tony smiled at him, eyes crinkling at the corners, still shining with unshed tears.

“Good because you are seriously hard to buy for.”

Tony laughed.

“Now I really am your son.” He teased.

Tony wrapped him back up in a hug.  “You were already my son, with or without my name.”

“Yeah I know.” And he did.  “But it’s still kind of nice, isn’t it?”

“Very.” Tony kissed his hair again.  “I love you kid.”

“I love you too.”

“Best Christmas present ever.”

“Good.” Peter smiled and closed his eyes as he relaxed into Tony’s side.  

Tony gave him another loving squeeze with the arm he had draped across his shoulders.  “Merry Christmas kid.”

“Merry Christmas Dad.”

Amour Vincit Omnia / 30

Author’s Note: This is the final part of this series! Don’t worry, there is gonna be an epilogue (which is something you guys are gonna want after reading this part lol) and it will be posted once I finish the last three parts of the Second Pregnancy Series! Thank you guys for all the love and support on this story and I hope you enjoy it!

“Will you stop fussing over me?” Akeem whined, reaching out to try and take the spoon out of Akira’s hands but she moved it away from him, making him frown. “I can feed myself Kira.”

“Ah, you’re still recovering and you aren’t supposed to be moving too much,” she reminded him. “And besides, you scared the hell out of me. Let me take care of you.”

“I can’t win against that and you know it,” he grumbled, reluctantly opening his mouth and letting Akira feed him a spoonful of tomato soup. He let her give him a few more spoons before opening his mouth to speak again. “Did everyone get home safe?” He wondered, referring to Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hobi, Cassie, Jimin and Jungkook, who all decided that they should head back home since Akeem had been awake from his coma for the past four days.

“Yeah, and they all told me to tell you that they’re keeping you in their thoughts,” she told him. 

“What about Taehyung?” Akeem asked with a small smirk on his face and Akira rolled her eyes at him.

“He’s still here,” she said. “Still staying at the house.”

“Different room?”

“Different room,” she confirmed. 

“Are you still ignoring him?” Akeem questioned and Akira shook her head immediately. 

“Not purposely, I’ve just been focusing on what’s more important,” she replied.

“Or more like using me as an excuse,” Akeem snickered, making Akira raise her eyebrows at him. “You know he offered to pay all my medical bills, and to pay for my physical therapy?”

“What?” Akira gasped, because this was definitely new news to her. “When was this?”

“Yesterday, when you went home to shower and change clothes,” he told her. “He came in and told me and mom that he knows that stuff can get expensive and that he didn’t want us having to worry about it so he offered to take care of it,” Akeem explained. 

“God, that man,” Akira muttered, shaking her head lightly.

“I know you aren’t mad at him about that.”

“Not mad but come on Keem,” Akira chuckled. “Doesn’t the gesture seem a little weird, given how things are between me and him right now?”

“Sissy, I love you and I’m only about to tell you this because I care about you, ok?” Akeem said and Akira nodded her head. “Stop being such a big bitch and let the man take care of you.”

“How is him offering to pay for your medical bills taking care of me?” She wondered.

“Because we both know that mom can’t afford it with our insurance and Dad sucks so you would’ve taken on the burden of trying to pay for everything yourself and we all know you can’t swing that,” Akeem pointed out and Akira couldn’t even argue with him because she knew that he was right. “And besides, I asked him to look out for you and he’s trying to do that, so I’m not mad at it.”

“When did you ask him to do that?” Akira asked.

“Thanksgiving, after the whole showdown thing with Dad,” he replied. “I know you Sissy, so I knew that you were gonna need someone to look out for you after that whole thing.”

“Keem,” she whispered, a small smile coming over her face.

“And while we’re talking about this, I have something else to tell you,” he said and Akira nodded, motioning for him to continue with her hand. “I called Taehyung after I got off the phone with you on New Year’s eve.”

“What?” She gasped, her head starting to spin from all this new information. “Why?”

“Because you two needed to talk and you’re so damn stubborn, I knew that you weren’t gonna call him so I did it for you,” he shrugged.

“I’ve been called stubborn so much over the last week, it’s ridiculous,” she mumbled before looking up at Akeem. “That’s how he knew to come to Jimin’s house, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow,” she whispered. “The crazy thing about that is, we didn’t even get super far into the conversation because Mama called to tell me about what happened to you.”

“So you’re telling me that I set it up for you guys to talk and then I’m the one who ruined it?” He asked and Akira laughed while shrugging her shoulders. “Damn, I had one job.”

“Not your fault,” she reminded him.

“I know but you knew what I meant,” he shot back, which she nodded to. “I know that you guys talked a little bit the day that I woke up, but I can tell that you two haven’t really settled things.”

“He told me a lot of things in that conversation Keem,” Akira huffed. “I’ve had to think about it all.”

“And you should go talk to him since it’s been a few days,” Akeem encouraged her. “You’ve been super distracted and since I’m ok now, that could be the only other thing that’s bothering you.”

“Am I that transparent?” She joked.

“Only to me and Mama, since we know you best. Oh, and Yoongi and Cassie,” he replied. “So go and sort your shit out. Even if you guys don’t get back together, at least know where you stand with each other.”

“Alright, I’m going,” she relented, standing up from her chair and grabbing her jacket, shrugging it on over her shoulders. She then stepped closer to the bed, leaning over and kissing Akeem on the forehead. “I love you Keem.”

“Love you more sissy,” he whispered, giving her a small smile before she turned around and walked out of the hospital room.

.................................

After Akira walked through the front door of her mom’s house, she was greeted by the sight of her mom walking down the stairs.

“Hey sweetie,” Tonya grinned, walking over to her daughter and kissing her on the cheek. “How’s Keem?”

“He’s good,” Akira told her. “I helped him eat lunch before I left.”

“Good, good. Well, I’m on my way there now so I’ll see you later, yeah?” Tonya said and Akira nodded. After she put on her boots and jacket, she gave Akira another kiss before rushing out of the door. 

“Tae?” Akira called out and she heard footsteps rustling before she saw Taehyung pop out of the kitchen. 

“Hey,” He greeted her and she gave him a small smile in return. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” she nodded. “I wanted to know if you wanted to talk though.”

“Of course,” he agreed, walking all the way out of the kitchen and following her into the living room. They both sat down next to each other on the couch and Akira turned her body that she was completely facing Taehyung. 

“I’ll start this time,” she said, making Taehyung chuckle and nod. “First off, I just want to thank you for trusting me enough to tell me about your past and your history with your uncle.”

“It was time to,” he shrugged. “And I needed to.”

“It helped me understand a lot,” Akira said. “And I thought about it a lot over the past few days, whenever I wasn’t occupied over worrying about Keem and...I think I know how we should move forward.”

“And how’s that?”

“Tae, I think we should break up,” Akira announced and Taehyung’s eyes widened.

“Why?”

“You telling me everything about your life and your uncle and everything, it just showed me that we moved really fast in this relationship and that we should’ve slowed down,” she told him. 

“But you never said anything about how fast we were moving before,” he said confusedly.

“You’re right, and that’s because it always felt natural,” she replied. “I didn’t mind how quick it all happened because it didn’t feel rushed, you know?”

“Yeah,” he nodded sadly. 

“Taehyung, I love you but all of this just showed me that I had no idea who you really were,” she said. “And I had no idea who you were because you have no idea who you are yourself.”

“You’ve helped me start that process of trying to find myself though Kira,” he pointed out and she shook her head. “I told you that when we were in Jamaica.”

“ I know but that’s something that you have to do for yourself, by yourself,” she explained. “You’ve always been defined by your family by the mistake that you made at 17, you’ve been defined by the public as this creative genius who runs Vantae, you’re all these ideas that have been created by other people and yet, you don’t even know who you really are.”

“I do know who I am.”

“Ok, then how would you describe yourself?” She questioned, quirking her eyebrow up at him. “And don’t say what you think others would say. Really think about it Tae.” A few minutes of silence passed between them before Taehyung huffed harshly.

“Ok so I can’t,” he admitted. 

“It’s not a bad thing baby,” she assured him .”I just think that you should take the time to find yourself, you know? Figure out who you are without your uncle’s influence, or thinking about Vantae 24/7, or even without my influence.”

“But what about us?” He wondered.

“It’s not about us,” she told him. “I want you to be happy, and I wanna be happy too. Not saying that I wouldn’t be with you or that I wasn’t for these past six months, but we both know that I’m too sure of myself and what I want. It would just be argument after argument between the two of us.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be as assertive with myself as you are,” he joked and Akira smiled.

“I don’t expect you to be,” she giggled. “I just want to you to find yourself, like I did. Until you do that, you’re not gonna be comfortable in a relationship with anyone, let alone me.”

“Deep down, I know you’re right but is it selfish that I don’t want to let you go?” He wondered and she shook her head.

“Not at all,” she said, giving him a sad smile. “We love each other, so I don’t want to do this but I think it’ll be better in the long run.”

“I know,” he agreed. “I should probably head back to New York then, huh?”

“I’ve appreciated you being here, but I’m good now,” she told him honestly. “I’ll never forget how you great you’ve been though so thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he replied. “I did it because I love you and I want you happy.”

“Ditto,” she smiled. They both stood up from the couch then and Akira couldn’t help herself as she placed her hands on his cheeks and pulled his face down before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“What was that for?” He questioned after they pulled away. “A goodbye kiss?”

“Not goodbye,” she chuckled. “Just a ‘see you later’ kiss.”

“Well, see you later,” he said, leaning down and giving her one last peck.

Ache and 2 my dude ✌🏻

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Driving up to the house, Richie merrily got out of the car. Today’s performance couldn’t have gone any better. And after the big show, Steve told him some big news. He had the opportunity to take a two-week tour around the east coast. 

Apparently, a few proms were looking to have a few comedy routines. Richie never did that before. Not even at his own prom!

Excited to share the news with his boyfriend, as soon as he entered the house, Richie’s enthusiasm faded. “Eds?” he called out worriedly, his voice echoing throughout the empty halls. 

“In the kitchen.” Came a voice, so empty, so unrecognizable that it made Richie’s stomach turn. It didn’t sound like his beloved. And he always came to greet him when he arrived home. Once he read that only a dog greeting is a greeting that you’ll never get from anybody else. Richie argued against that. 

Walking into the kitchen, Eddie sat staring blankly into the wood of the table. His cane leaned against the counter behind him. Studying his countenance closely, Eddie didn’t know what to feel, struggling in a sea of emotions. 

“Why the long face Spaghetti-Eds?” Richie sat down next to him. He reached across the table to hold his hand. It was strange because Eddie hadn’t hit a wall with his depression in months. Once he started to regain his strength, Eddie became hopeful, continuing to make progress each day succeeding in his goals. It was a big surprise for Richie to see a vast difference in Eddie’s uppity spirit. 

Taking a long sigh, Eddie wouldn’t look at Richie. “I called Myra today.”

“What? Eddie, I thought you said that you’d never talk to her again!” Richie didn’t want to sound disappointed in him, but that woman never respected him, nor did she even appreciate him.

“Yeah, I know, Rich,” Eddie answered tiredly, amidst the nagging heartache. “I just wanted to see how she was doing.”

Mellowing down a bit, Richie scooted closed. The chair made a loud scratching noise along the floor. It disturbed Eddie, but he didn’t have the energy to give his boyfriend a warning like he always did. He just continued to miserably stare off into space. 

“What did she say to you?” Richie asked him.

His lips started to tremble. Eddie turned and looked into his boyfriend’s eyes. “Myra’s getting married again.”

That was not the answer that Richie was expecting. “So, she’s getting married. Big deal! I guess she needs to nag a poor guy in order to live.”

“No, Richie,” Eddie shook his head. “She’s been going out with this guy since we were married.”

Feeling like his heart was being ripped to shreds like scissors cutting up paper, Richie felt an immense weight of guilt He should have been here when this conversation took place. Come to think of it, he was at a performance when Eddie took his first steps on his own with the physical therapist. And he wasn’t there when Eddie was accepted to the school he was going to study at to become a teacher in the fall.

He pulled his boyfriend in for a tight hug. Eddie couldn’t find the tears to cry, still believing that it was something that made him look weak. “I just don’t understand! She gives me a hard time because I divorce her because I want to be with you! And she accused me of fucking cheating! What sense does that make? Now I knew why she refused to work. One day I found a tie in our room that didn’t belong to me and Myra covers it up saying that it was a gift for me! I feel so stupid!”

“Hey, hey, you’re not stupid! Don’t ever call yourself that,” Richie whispered into his ear. He kissed his cheek, in an attempt to calm him down from getting too worked up.

Eddie was quiet which made Richie uncomfortable. He was stubborn. Richie pulled away from their embrace. Eddie looked worse from when he was recovering like it was all for nothing.

“You would never cheat on me would you, Richie?”

“No!” Richie shook his head, grasping his boyfriend’s hand. “No, I would never do that to you, Eddie! Ever.”

Eddie dipped his head, ashamed he even asked. “I know.”

“Don’t let her get to you. She ruined your life enough already. Remember what you told me? You want to live like you never did before. Eddie, I love you,” Richie told him again, holding his boyfriend’s face and removing the strand of tears. “And I want to be here more.”

“You’re already here, Rich.”

“I have been away too much. I need to be with you. Look, we’re going to take two weeks off and spend them together. We’ll go somewhere, have a drink, get drunk, and just be together. It’ll just be us. Your mom can’t come.”

Finally, Eddie smiled. “Oh, Rich.”

“It’s gross how much I love you,” Richie teased, kissing him again.

“Just like you?”

“Hey, don’t look at me! I’m not the one who farts in bed!”

“Rich!” Eddie couldn’t stop smiling. A single tear dropped from his eye. “I love you.”

He kissed him, capturing his lips. “I love you, too.”

(More Hospital!AU)

Like she predicted, Santana gets a yeast infection from her antibiotics and she’s absolutely miserable until the Diflucan kicks in. She’s irritable with Brittany, she’s short with Liam  and she groans more than she should when she wakes up to feed the twins. But then it’s over and Lauren starts at the hospital and the Pierces are coming to look at places to live in New York and Santana calms down. Like she always does after a bought with misery, she apologizes profusely to Brittany, she hugs the boys a little tighter and things go back to normal.

“My mom just called, they landed.” Brittany comes into Santana’s office where she’s working, phone still in her hand.

“I really feel bad we didn’t pick them up. Today was just a lot.”

“I know, if I rescheduled Mrs. Heeling’s surgery again she would have lost it. But they’re fine, they’re used to Boston. They just didn’t want to drive down and when we said they could use the car to go out to Long Island...”

“I can’t believe they’re going to bring our three kids to look at houses.” Santana laughs. “Though I’m sure my mother appreciates a few days to herself.”

“I think it will be good for your mom if my mom can take some of the days from her. She’s been absolutely amazing but I feel like it’s becoming a lot.”

“I’m just starting to realize that she’s getting older. Liam starting school will help, when she just has Max and Oliver, but before we know it they’re going to be all over the place.”

“That’s the first time you’ve said that without crying.” Brittany kisses Santana on the forehead. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, let me just make my last notations in this chart and return it to the nurse’s station. I’ve got sepsis in a three year old, if it gets worse, I’m going to come in tonight. I’m not leaving it to the on call doctor.”

“Whatever you need to do, honey. I get it.”

Santana finishes up with her chart and she and Brittany leave the hospital, anxious to be there by the time Brittany’s parents get to the house. They get home and all three boys are taking a nap way too late but Maribel tells them Liam refused his nap and then passed out on the living room floor while he was playing. Though they invite Maribel to come to dinner with the Pierces, she gently declines, her eyes giving away that it was a really long day and she’s just ready to rest in the privacy of her own home.

“We should at least wake up Liam, shouldn’t we?” Santana asks once her mom is out the door.

“Let him sleep, he’ll be up late with my parents and a little while longer might do him some good. Do you want to take a shower first or should I?”

“Do you mind if I do? I feel extra disgusting today.”

“Go ahead, I’m going to start dinner and then I’ll jump in.”

Leaving Brittany downstairs, Santana goes up into their bathroom and turns the shower as hot as it can go. She steps under the spray of the water and lets it seep into her skin, rinsing off the grime of her day. When she’s finished, she turns off the water and hears Brittany calling her from downstairs. It’s unlike Brittany when she knows Santana is in the shower and so she quickly gets dressed and goes downstairs to find Brittany sprawled on the kitchen floor.

“Are you okay?” Santana bends down beside her and sees Brittany’s face contorted in pain.

“I fell off the kitchen counter and I’m pretty sure my tibia and fibula destroyed.” Brittany breathes through the pain, something Santana never can believe that another human being is capable of. “Can you look at it?”

“Britt...I can see it from here. We need to get you to the ER.”

“The kids...”

“Look, I’ll call Mercedes. She’ll come here and sit with them until your parents get here. This isn’t a joke.”

“I know it’s not a joke.” Brittany snaps a little. “I’m sorry...it just hurts like hell.”

”Just give me five minutes, I’ll get everything situated.”

Santana immediately snaps into her taking care of business mode and she gets Mercedes on the phone. Then, because she’s concerned about moving Brittany’s leg to get her into the car, she calls an ambulance. She’s so glad the the boys are still sleeping when the paramedics bring a stretcher into the house and help Brittany get on it. Santana knows she’s in a lot of pain because she doesn’t argue with the fact that she’s not doing this on her own and Santana just holds her hand until Mercedes gets there and they can leave.

“Do me a favor?” Santana murmurs to Mercedes. “Don’t let Brittany’s parents come to the hospital, it’ll be too much for them.”

“I won’t.” Mercedes promises. “But I’ll meet you there once they get here.”

“Thank you.”

The ambulance bay at the hospital brings back horrifying memories of mass casualty incidents for Santana as they enter through the back and she wonders if Brittany feels the same way. She just lays silent and white faced as the paramedics wheel her in and Santana squeezes her hand. Neither of them know the name of the new ortho attending that comes to see Brittany, but considering surgical is already involved, they both assume that the paramedics called in a worse break than they’d expected.

“We’re going to have to surgically repair it.” The young doctor who introduces himself as Dr. Hart tells Brittany after her x-rays come back. “You saw the bones, they’re both shattered, you’ll need a rod to hold them in place.”

“Is Tina Cohen-Chang on in anesthesiology?” Brittany asks calmly. “If she is, that’s who I want. How long have you been at this hospital?”

“Three months, I know who you are, Dr. Pierce, I’ve just never had the pleasure of working with you. I’ll see about Dr. Cohen-Chang for you.”

“I’m sitting in the gallery.” Santana interrupts.

“Santana. No you’re not.” Brittany shakes her head. “I need you to go talk to Sue, let her know what’s going on and to call my parents so they don’t have to hear I’m in here from Mercedes. You don’t need to be in the gallery, its just going to make you anxious.”

“But—“

“No. Please, Santana. I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Okay.” She concedes and kisses Brittany on the forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Hart, don’t screw this up.”

Before she does anything else, Santana listens to Brittany’s request that she call her parents. Whitney is beside herself when she hears that Brittany is in the hospital but Santana convinces her that everything will be fine and the best thing she can do is stay with the boys. Then, she calls her own mother and has a mini-breakdown, sobbing ugly sobs in the waiting room. Brittany has been the one in this position before, sitting in the waiting room when she had her breasts fixed, watching her as the twins were delivered early, but Santana doesn’t think she has the mental capacity for the roles to be reversed. She knows that she has to talk to Sue, tell her that Brittany is in surgery, but she can’t seem to get herself together.

“Hey, I know this is killing you, but you need to pull yourself together.” Mercedes sinks down in the chair next to Santana and holds out her hand. “She’s going to be fine.”

“What do you know about this Hart guy?”

“I checked him out in the cab on the way over. He was first in his class at Johns Hopkins, did his residency at UCLA, he’s good. She’s in good hands.”

“Goddamn it. She’s always the strong one, ‘Cedes. I don’t know how to do this.”

“Yes you do, you did it for Oliver.”

“I almost had a damn nervous breakdown after he was born. It was Brittany holding me together.”

“I’m here, okay? You’re not alone. She’s going to get out of this surgery and she’s going to recover and everything is going to be okay. You know that I don’t bullshit you.”

“I know.”

“You need to go talk to the chief. She needs to know that one of her department heads is in surgery, if the rumor mill hasn’t gotten to her already.”

“You’ll text me if someone comes out?”

“Immediately.” Mercedes promises. “Go.”

Wiping her face with her hands, Santana pulls it together and goes to the elevator. Sue is in her office when Santana gets there and she lightly taps on the door. The chief looks up, surprised to see her so late, and waves Santana in. Shifting her weight between feet, Santana takes a deep breath and looks Sue in the face.

“Hi Chief Sylvester, I just wanted to let you know that Brittany is in surgery right now. She fell of the kitchen counter and her leg is pretty damaged.”

“Who’s doing the surgery?” Sue clicks at the screen in her computer. “Dr. Hart, good choice.”

“We didn’t really have a choice, he was the on call doctor.”

“Well she’s lucky, he’s good.”

“Look, she just wanted you to hear it from me, so...”

“I’ll deal with HR for a medical leave for her. She’ll probably be in no shape to talk to me in the morning, but let her know it’s taken care of.”

“I know her, she’ll want to do her admin stuff from home.”

“Not this week. We’ll talk about it when she’s had time to recover. I’ll take over her scheduling for the time being and shift around her surgeries. She’s helped me enough, I just want her to heal.”

Santana thinks of all the times she’s thought Sue was a hard ass, but she’s surprisingly gentle when it comes to Brittany, and for that, Santana is grateful. She thanks Sue several times and goes back down to the waiting room where Mercedes is flipping through a magazine. She gets back in the chair next to her and sighs heavily.

“Everything go okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, she was super accommodating. She’s going to deal with the HR stuff, so...”

Hours pass and Santana FaceTimes with the boys, promising Liam that everything is okay and she’ll kiss him when she gets home. Finally, Hart comes out and he tells Santana that Brittany did well and is in recovery. She can’t get there fast enough, she’s not even sure that she thanked Mercedes for watching the boys or for sitting with her for hours but she just wants to see her wife. When she gets to the recovery room, Brittany has her eyes closed and Santana sinks down beside her, taking her hand.

“You’re pretty.” Brittany giggles, opening her eyes.

“And you’re very high.” Santana lets out a breathy, relieved laugh.

“I don’t feel anything in my leg. Joe said that it’s fixed, so that’s good.”

“Yeah, he said it was an easier surgery than he was expecting and if you’re up for it, you can go home tonight.”

“I want to sleep in my own bed. With you, pretty lady.”

“We can make that happen, you know we just have to make sure you hit your milestones.”

“Santana, I’m going to be out of work for a long time.”

“Six weeks, minimum. You need to heal it, you have to be able to stand for hours at a time.”

“I know. This is going to hurt like hell tomorrow.”

“I called Shelby while I was waiting. I’m taking the rest of the week. Good thing I still have so much banked time from all the years I didn’t take it.” Santana sighs.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It takes awhile before Brittany is ready to go home, but when she is, a nurse wheels her out to the curb and Santana gets a cab. She puts Brittany’s crutches in first then helps her get situated and walks around to the other side. Because of the surgery, Brittany old has a soft cast on and Santana is extra careful that nothing touches her leg.

When they get to the house, Brittany is surprisingly good—even still under the influence of anesthesia and morphine—maneuvering on the crutches but Santana helps her up the front stairs and then Pierce comes running out to help Santana get her up in the inside staircase to bed. Once she’s settled and has taken a dose of her pills, Santana takes a deep breath and Whitney taps on the door.

“What can I do?” She asks helplessly.

“Mom, I’m okay, it’s just a little break.” Brittany yawns, tired from all the medication. “You and dad can go to bed.”

“Oh, honey.” Whitney comes over to Brittany’s side of the bed and kisses her forehead. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

Once Whitney has said her good nights and Pierce comes in to do the same, Santana goes down the hall to Liam’s room. She kisses him and he murmurs in his sleep, trying to fight his body to talk to her. She’ll get up with him in the morning, exhausted as she is, because she wants things to be as normal as possible for him even though it’ll be difficult with Brittany down for the count. Once he’s tucked back under his blankets, she goes back into the bedroom and sees Brittany flipping through the channels on TV. She lifts Max and Oliver from their bed and guides her achingly full breasts to them so she can nurse them for the first time since early in the morning.

“I’m sorry, Santana.” Brittany whispers.

“Why are you sorry?”

“For not being more careful. It was a careless mistake and now...”

“Britt.” Santana shifts Max a little so she can kiss Brittany’s temple. “It was just an accident, we’ll figure it all out.”

“It’s just running through my head all I won’t be able to do with only one good leg.”

“Our focus is on getting you healed. Your parents are here, my mom isn’t far away, we have support to help us while you recover. If you want the privacy, we’ll keep you up here, if you want to be in the center of everything, we’ll get you downstairs and set up on the couch. I know you’re good on those crutches, but I don’t know how much you’ll feel like walking around at first.”

”It just...really hurts.”

“I broke my arm when I was seven. I don’t remember anything about it except how bad it hurt. Do you want a pill?”

“It hasn’t been long enough since they gave me the Vicodin at the hospital.” Brittany shakes her head. “I’ll wait, try to sleep, just...focus on something other than the pain.”

“Can I do anything?”

“Let’s just go to sleep.”

When Santana wakes up in the morning, she can tell by the way Brittany is snoring that she woke up and took another Vicodin during the night. Brittany is always so tough, it’s hard for Santana to know that she’s in so much pain. She gently kisses her forehead and slips out of bed. It’s earlier than she’d like to be up, Max and Oliver are still sleeping, but because she didn’t take an Ambien in case Brittany needed her, she’s awake.

She goes into the bathroom, takes a shower and brushes her teeth, coming out just in time for Oliver to start whining. Not wanting Brittany to get woken up, Santana lifts Oliver from the bassinet and then takes Max too, careful not to jostle him and wake him up. When she gets downstairs, Whitney is already awake and has made coffee, so she hands Santana a full mug once she puts Max down and has Oliver settled on her breast.

“Did you sleep at all?” Whitney asks Santana.

“Barely, I was so worried about Brittany. It’s a bad break and...I just...it’s stupid.”

“It’s probably not stupid.”

“Seeing her hurt is hard for me. She always has it so together and looking at her last night splayed on the kitchen floor in pain, it was just a lot.”

“You love her so intensely. As horrible as it is that she’s hurt, it makes me so glad to see the way you love her. I know you’ve been married over a year now, but I haven’t gotten to see this much before, I only know what Brittany tells me.”

“I’m sure there were a lot of not so great things.” Santana sighs.

“She’s never said a bad word about your love got her. She just worried about the difficulties you had after the twins were born.”

“She’s my rock. I’m trying to be a rock for her too.”

“You are.” Whitney pats Santana’s arm. “Trust me.”

Once Max is finished eating and Santana finishes her coffee, she goes upstairs, peeks into the bedroom to see that Brittany is still sleeping, then goes into Liam’s room. She knows that he’ll be up any minute, so she crawls under the covers with him, stroking his hair. She’s not sure how much he knows about what happened to Brittany, so she wants to be there as soon as he wakes up to answer any questions.

“Hi, Mommy Noodle.” He murmurs, burrowing into her side. “Why are you in my bed?”

“I just wanted to cuddle a little bit with you, Sir.”

“Is Mama sick? Gramma said she was at the hospital but not to get worried.”

“Mama broke her leg. She’s okay, but we’re going to have to be really careful with her. We can’t run and jump around her.”

“Can I cuddle her?”

“We’ll have to see how she feels, but I’m sure she’ll want a big hug from you.”

“Can I see how she feels now?”

“We can go see if she’s awake.” Santana mods. “But we need to be really quiet in case she’s still sleeping.”

Holding Liam’s hand, Santana creeps down the hall. When they get to the bedroom, Brittany is sitting propped up on the pillows frantically typing away on her phone. Liam’s smile is wide when he sees that she’s awake and he climbs up on the bed so carefully to get to her side. He lays his head on Brittany and she pulls him as close as she can, hugging him tightly.

“Mama, I was so scared when Gramma told me you had to go to the hospital.”

“Can I tell you a secret, bud?”

“Yes, I can keep secrets. But Mommy Noodle can know too.”

“You’re right.” Brittany smiles. “She can.”

“My secret is that I was scared to go to the hospital too. I haven’t had to go there for me since I was just bigger than you.”

“Me and Mommy Noodle and Maxie and Ollie went there.”

“You’re right, and that’s what reminded me to be brave.”

“Did you get a lollipop?”

“You know what?” She laughs. “It was so late that I forgot to ask for one.”

“Can we get some today?”

“It might be a little bit hard for me to go to the store, but I bet Mommy would get us some, maybe you can go with her?”

“Mommy Noodle, can we?”

“We can definitely do that. We’ll take Max and Oliver too, I bet they’d like a nice walk in the sunshine.” Santana tells him. “Grandma and Grandpa can stay with Mama when we go.”

“Honey, I’m fine if they have things to do. They’re here to look at houses.”

“We’ll figure it out. I don’t want to leave you here alone just yet.”

“Yeah, Mama.” Liam interjects. “We gotta take care of you.”

“Cuddling with you is helping a lot, Li.”

“Are you working on your phone?” Santana asks.

“I’m just sending an email to my department. I want them all to hear from me that I’ll be out for awhile. I’ll still do the scheduling and—“

“Liam, do you want to see if Grandma can get you breakfast?” Santana interrupts, wanting to have a heart to heart conversation with Brittany alone.

“Okay, Mommy Noodle.” He hugs Brittany once more and hops off the bed. “I’ll be back.”

“Britt, Sue wants you to do nothing this week. You’re hopped up on all kinds of pain killers, I can see from your face that they haven’t totally alleviated the pain. She told me you can talk next week and see what you’re up to doing but that she’s taking care of things for now.”

“Santana, it’s my department.”

“When I was out before the twins were born, you made sure that I was relaxing. Now I’m going to do the same for you.”

“I’m fine.” Brittany insists.

“You shattered two bones. You’re not fine.”

“I’m fine enough to work from home.”

“Look. Sue is not going to let you do it, so you can insist to me as much as you want. But remember what it felt like when I was the one saying I could do everything.”

“That was different.”

“No it wasn’t.” Santana shakes her head. “Both situations are about medical advice. I don’t want to argue with you.”

“I’m sorry.” Brittany rubs her temples. “I hardly slept last night and I’m just frustrated the happened. I just...it’s hard to step away.”

“I know that better than anyone and I get that it’s worse for toy because you have a whole department counting on you. But just take a few days, adjust to your medication, get some sleep.”

“I think I actually want to go downstairs, but I really don’t know how to do that.”

“We’ll take it one step at a time.”

okay this is. well. a LATE birthday fic for my friend jemi, who does not have a personal tumblr atm, but i’m sticking it here because this is where i file all my fics at this point, and because it’s also a tiny bit of a partial co-present for @xivuuarath too! 

jemi, one of the things i’ve loved most about this past year is getting the chance to write with you again and develop these new and wonderful and crazy cross-fandom dynamics just the way we used to. it’ll always mean a lot to me to be able to write with you, and i really hope i’ve done everyone in this fic justice because i cannot tell you what a DELIGHT forming this disaster of a group dynamic/eventual found family with you and storm has been!!! i can’t wait to develop them more together, but for now, this particular fic is set a little ways in the hypothetical future once they’ve all gotten to know each other a little more, and after villanelle has had... SOME kind of similar encounter with her family to the one she just had in canon. tldr: her mom sucks, she’s dead now, and villanelle ran off after burning her house down.

anyway, yeah, ENJOY!

They all look like idiots, and normally, Villanelle would delete any photo that made her look like an idiot without a second thought. But there is something kind of nice about it this time.

Villanelle supposes that maybe it’s a little unfair to blame Konstantin for the fact that her birth family turned out to be shit.

(Okay, not all of them were shit, but it is easier to pretend that they were and not that the few days she spent with them were the happiest she’s ever been in her whole life.)

Anyway, while it’s not technically his fault, he is the one who told her they were alive, and the last thing she wants right now is to go back and tell him exactly how catastrophically things did not work out.  He is no longer her handler anyway. She has to report back to Knock Out.

(Actually, she has not been on a mission recently, she has nothing to report, and Knock Out would probably not even notice if she didn’t contact him for several more days, but... Villanelle will just make up a reason to talk to him, then. He doesn’t have to know she’s wasting his time just because he makes her feel a little better.)

So she’s surprised when she texts him (or his comm frequency, however it works with Cybertronians) and gets a message back that he’s already waiting for her at Mistoffelees’.

That’s how Villanelle thinks of the house, absurdly, as belonging to Mistoffelees and Victoria -- namely because by know she knows them much better than she knows their people. Somehow, amidst the chaos of the past several days, Villanelle had entirely forgotten she’d agreed to cat-sit again (less for any pragmatic reason this time and more because she hadn’t had anything better to do, before the issue of her family had cropped up) starting this evening. She’d also forgotten that they’d all planned another marathon session of Kitchen Nightmares, and for some reason... all of this rattles her.

For some reason, when she arrives and walks up the driveway and finds Knock Out parked waiting for her, and Misto and Tugger settled side by side on the fence, she gets a strange little lump in her throat that she can’t explain.

“Finally,” Tugger complains the minute he sees her. “If any of us actually had thumbs, we may well have considered starting without you.”

“Excuse me,” Knock Out is quick to protest. “Just because it’s not exactly strategic for me to transform in the middle of a human neighborhood doesn’t mean you get to lump me in with you furballs.”

Mistoffelees rolls his eyes in an unnervingly human gesture that Villanelle is only just starting to get used to.  “I’m sure he meant ‘if any of us actually had thumbs that we could conveniently use without causing hysteria in this precise moment.’ Didn’t you, Tug?”

“Sure, darling,” Tugger says, not sounding very sincere at all.

Villanelle comes to a slow halt beside Knock Out’s alt mode, trying to bask in their familiar banter, trying to make it feel just the same as her family’s home-y sense of chaos did. It doesn’t quite work. But it does make her want... something.

“We should take a road trip!” Villanelle announces suddenly, entirely out of nowhere and without thinking about it.  Mistoffelees and Tugger turn nonplussed looks on her, and she can practically feel Knock Out figuratively side-eyeing her, and for a second she worries that they’ve noticed something’s wrong. 

But the silence only lasts for a beat before Knock Out scoffs,  “What, now? And where, exactly, were you thinking of going?”

Villanelle shrugs, undeterred by their skepticism.  “Anywhere. We could just... drive.”

“In that?” Tugger stares wide-eyed into Knock Out’s windows, and then very quickly clears his throat.  “Sorry. In him?”

“We could bring Victoria too,” Villanelle says, appealing to Misto. “Is she home?”

Mistoffelees flicks an ear uncertainly.  “She’s out at the junkyard this evening. And anyway, Villanelle, we can’t exactly up and disappear without giving the others cause for alarm --”

“So go tell them! We can wait here.  It would only be for, like, a couple of days, and your humans will not even notice since they’re not due back ‘til next week.”

“Not to agree with Tugger, but I’m still stuck at the part where I have to lug them around and get cat fur all over my interior,” Knock Out quips, rather casually considering the chaos unfolding around him. “...Not to mention, we don’t exactly have clearance for this.”

“We don’t have an assignment either,” Villanelle points out. “Do they really care what we do in our own time?”

Knock Out seems too surprised to answer, maybe because this is the first time outside their missions and their little casual reality television get-togethers that Villanelle has ever expressed such an interest in spending time together.

The cats are almost as baffled. Tugger and Misto exchange a look that Villanelle can’t quite read, before Mistoffelees settles his attention back on her.  “This is all a bit... sudden,” he starts, and it’s the fact that he sounds almost gentle that makes something in Villanelle prickle up again. Is her behavior so erratic and concerning that she’s making them feel sorry for her?

“Fine,” she cuts in, changing tracks suddenly.  “Fine! Never mind. I will take one on my own. See you all in a couple of days --”

“Er, hold on.” Knock Out recovers enough to stop her. “If you’re going to do this anyway, I might as well tag along and see that you don’t do anything careless. Otherwise I’ll have nothing to do but drive around London while you go off and have all the fun.”

Villanelle stops in her tracks.  “Do you want me to be careful, or do you want me to have fun?”

“...Is that supposed to be a trick question?”

She shrugs, still recovering her pride and wondering if she should brush him off just on principle because of it. Deep down, though, Villanelle doesn’t want to, and so instead she looks back at the cats where they’re still settled together on the fence.

On the fence. Heh. Like a metaphor.

“I think you two could use the vacation,” she tells them casually.  “Have you ever actually been on a honeymoon?”

“A what?” Mistoffelees asks as Tugger sweeps his feathery tail around him. Villanelle has started to get used to the easy affection they share between them, but it hasn’t yet ceased to give her a pang of something indecipherable each time.

“A honeymoon,” she says.  “It is something two people do when they get m -- when they love each other and want to be together forever. They go off and take a trip and kind of... celebrate their relationship.”

Tugger tilts his head ever so slightly to one side.  “And is it customary for them to bring their friends along?”

Villanelle glances at Knock Out, but if he knows anything about this particular Earth custom, he stays silent for once.  So she shrugs.  “Sure. That way it is like a party, you know?”

“I daresay neither of us do.”  Mistoffelees turns so he can meet his mate’s gaze.  Villanelle expect Tugger to have a very decisive opinion on all of this, and to state it very loudly, because that’s just how Tugger is.  So it surprises her when instead, he returns Mistoffelee’s look quietly - almost gently - and waits for his verdict.

“Is it really only going to be for a couple of days?” Mistoffelees asks cautiously at length.  Villanelle grins despite herself.

--

It is roughly a five hour drive between London and Paris, which is a bit of a pain in the ass when the taking the train shaves about half of that off, but for once Villanelle is trying to be objective about how she is probably the least inconvenienced person in this situation. The only reason Misto and Tugger aren’t stuffed in the trunk right now is because she offered to buy them cat carriers to travel in instead, and when the cats vetoed that option, she’d reluctantly promised Knock Out that she’d be the one vacuuming his back seat instead.

Even with that compromise made, though, five hours is a long time to spend in a car with someone. Especially a sentient car. They’ve already gone through the motions of arguing about the radio - a pointless endeavor, given that Knock Out is the one who controls it - and then Villanelle had tried to teach them how to play a couple of road trip games ( “Fuck, Marry, Kill” had gone the most disastrously).

Finally, Mistoffelees asks, “Was it really necessary to come so far for this... other city you described? I don’t see how it can be all that much different from London.”

He sounds almost uncomfortable, and for the first time Villanelle wonders whether he or Tugger have ever been this far from home before -- they are cats, even if they are special ones.

“Paris is nothing like London,” Villanelle insists, though she knows that alone might not mean much to him.  “-- It is the most beautiful city in the world. And if you’re in love, you have to go at least once.”

“I never figured you for the sentimental type,” Knock Out quips dryly.

"Maybe she means if you’re in love with yourself,” Misto offers.  “I suppose that describes at least three out of four of us, so --”

He breaks off at Tugger’s feigned indignant gasp and even-more-feigned swat, laughing, and Villanelle gives both of them a pointed look through the rearview mirror.

They are just made for Paris, these two. Later, they’re going to have to admit that she was right.

Knock Out sighs audibly, distracting her from her thoughts.  “You know. You really do owe me for this.”

--

Even Knock Out can’t find too much to complain about once they reach the city proper, though. Villanelle beams smugly when he admits that there’s a certain classiness about it all “as far as cities on this mudball go”, and he rolls his windows down a little so that Misto and Tugger can better appreciate the scents and sounds.

“It’s not home,” Tugger drawls, enjoying the way the wind buffets the mane of fur around his neck.  “But it’s not half bad.”

It’s home to Villanelle, though, or -- the closest thing she’s ever had to one, besides the one she just burnt to ashes. She takes them past the street where her old apartment used to be, just for nostalgia’s sake.

“The only thing about Paris is, it’s really more of a walking city,”  Villanelle tells them at length.  “Hey Knock Out -- you don’t have some kind of boat mode, do you?”

“A boat?” Knock Out echoes scathingly.  “What exactly do you take me for?”

“Okay, so, the river tour is out. But I can show you around even better from here. Just follow my lead.”

Mistoffelees leans languidly against Tugger as they share the open window, and sighs.  “What could possibly go wrong.”

To Villanelle’s credit, she does give a hell of a tour, taking them past the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre and the Arc de Triomphe. Then they make a stop at the Pont Neuf bridge, where Villanelle positions the very bemused cats on the railing so that she can take their picture against the backdrop of the Seine.

“I can’t say I really understand the purpose of this,” Misto says for about the third time, then flattens his ears when Villanelle shushes him.

“I told you! It is easier to show you than tell you -- here, look.” She approaches to show them the image on her phone, ignoring the peculiar looks she gets from one or two passersby.  Tugger is the first to lean forward with skeptical curiosity, and then --

“-- It’s us.” His eyes go wide, and Villanelle watches his reaction with a smug sort of delight.  “Oh, that actually is marvelous.”

“I knew you would enjoy any excuse to look at yourself,” Villanelle quips in return, though in truth, it is a very nice picture if she does say so herself. Misto and Tugger look especially handsome in the photo -- you know, for cats. The sun brings streaks of vivid color out in Tugger’s fur, while Misto’s black and white pelt looks particularly glossy. They sit side by side, their sides touching, and Villanelle had captured just the right moment to preserve the glance they’d exchanged as she took the picture: Misto looking up at Tugger in "can-you-believe-what’s-happening” exasperation, and Tugger returning his gaze with something that read between amusement and the inevitable fondness he always seemed to regard the other cat with.

It’s very... them, Villanelle decides.

“It’s...” Mistoffelees seems almost uncharacteristically at a loss for words.  “...It’s like you froze a moment in time.”

Villanelle shrugs agreeably.  “Humans kind of collect them. I can get this printed, and then you can have your own physical copy, if... that is something you want?” She isn’t sure whether cats have any particular use for photos, but Tugger and Mistoffelees seem to like the idea.

“Seems a shame to waste such a handsome keepsake,” Tugger says, his eyes glinting. Misto smiles - in that very un-catlike way the Jellicles have - and looks up at Villanelle directly.

“Thank you.”

She tilts her head and almost responds, but then can’t think of anything good or clever to say. So instead, she turns to where Knock Out is still parked, the impatience practically simmering off him.

“Knock Out! Let me get one of you.”

“I don’t do autographs, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Don’t be so boring, God. Actually, we can all get in it! I will get someone to take it for us.”

It is probably only Villanelle’s perfect French that saves her from looking like a completely batshit tourist as she herds the cats over to him and needles one very confused local into taking a picture of the four of them together. Instead, she just looks like... well, a batshit French person obsessed with taking photos of herself, her two cats, and her sports car. Which is fine with her, really.

The photo turns out nice, too. Not quite as romantic as the first -- actually, it looks pretty silly. Tugger, taking advantage of Knock Out’s inability to protest while in public company, had leaped up onto his hood and sprawled out like some kind of feline model, which had made Villanelle throw her head back and cackle while in the midst of trying to scoop a begrudging Mistoffelees up into her arms. 

They all look like idiots, and normally, Villanelle would delete any photo that made her look like an idiot without a second thought. But there is something kind of nice about it this time. 

She takes them to the Luxembourg Gardens, too, where an artist asks if she can paint Mistoffelees (leaving Villanelle, Tugger, and Knock Out all quite individually offended evidently not to be considered the prettiest of the group), and then to the fish market where she figures the cats will be in heaven (shockingly, Tugger decides that Parisian food isn’t beneath him, though Misto is partial to the vanilla ice cream Villanelle buys him later).

By then, it’s getting close to nightfall, and Villanelle checks the time and then the listing on her phone. “Okay. Just one more stop. You will all like this one, I promise.”

“I think we’ve all learned by now not to trust your promises,” Mistoffelees retorts, but it’s goodnatured, a mild protest by his standards. Tugger even joins in making fun of his grumbling this time, and Knock Out has spent the last twenty minutes idly looking into things near the city he might want to do “for reconnaissance purposes” the next day, so Villanelle suspects that - not so secretly - they are all enjoying themselves.

--

The last stop is at a little park just beyond the city, where an overlook affords them a view of the Parisian lights in all their glory.  Misto and Tugger stop to enjoy it together for a little while, while Villanelle urges Knock Out to continue on up the road a little ways to find parking at...

“A drive-in theater.” Knock Out realizes, surprise lacing his tone.

Villanelle slips out the passengers side door to stretch her legs, but also to inform him:  “Drive-in is a loose term. I rented out the entire space for us tonight. I figured if we had a bit of privacy, you wouldn’t have to be stuck as a car all night.”

“I --”  Knock Out starts, then seems to register what she actually said.  Villanelle waits through the pause patiently.  “...I happen to be gorgeous in vehicle mode. As anyone with optics could tell you.”

“Yes,” Villanelle agrees, because she’s already learned how to butter him up, “But you make an even prettier robot.”

Knock Out tilts his mirror at her. His version of a side-eye, and code for I know exactly what you’re doing but I’m still flattered. “Well. I suppose this was... shockingly thoughtful of you.”  He transforms once Villanelle takes another step back, and then crouches down to eye her suspiciously. “Uncharacteristically, one might even say.”

But Villanelle has no real ulterior motives, this time.  She is just happy they all came with her to her favorite city in the world for no other reason than because she asked. Instead of saying that aloud, though, she redirects her attention to the overlook, where Tugger and Misto’s silhouettes are visible.  “Do you think they are enjoying their honeymoon?”

“How would I know?” Knock Out flippantly tilts his head to consider the pair. Misto tucks himself against Tugger’s side, and Tugger wraps his tail around the tom’s smaller frame as if they’ve done this thousands of times before. They look so... still. So content, in a way Villanelle isn’t used to imagining them. “I’m not an expert on the mushy stuff.”

“Really? You don’t have anyone?”

“I...” That actually gets Knock Out to hesitate, his expression unreadable. “...Think it’s inappropriate to divulge that kind of information between agent and handler.”

Villanelle nods ruefully. Konstantin had always been smart enough to avoid talking about his personal life with her, too. “I have someone,” she announces quietly, the status of the actual having be damned. “I might tell you about her someday. But --”  And before Knock Out can react to that, she shifts her attention back to the cats again. “I think they really love each other.”

“That seems like a safe assumption,” Knock Out quips dryly.  “Why do you even care?”

Why does she care? Envy? Her usual fascination with other people’s emotions, the ones that are always just out of reach for her? Neither of those feel right, but Villanelle doesn’t know the name for what is.

It just... feels better, knowing that Mistoffelees and Tugger have each other. It makes something in her calm strangely when she thinks of them.

She just shrugs again, in the end. And then the cats are getting up and coming back around to meet them, and Villanelle shoos away whatever she was feeling or pondering feeling and gives them an elegant smirk.  “Finally decided to join us, lovebirds?”

Tugger smirks right back up at her. “Personally, I would have been quite happy to spend the rest of my night watching the city lights, but Mistoffelees here seemed to feel that would have been terribly discourteous of us both.”

“It is your honeymoon,” Villanelle points out, because despite her teasing she wouldn’t really have minded. Her and Knock Out have a movie they could have entertained themselves with, after all.

“Yes,” Misto agrees lightly. “And I don’t think it’ll be one we’ll ever forget. Especially if you’ve chosen a decent... movie for us.”

“Please, Mistoffelees,” Villanelle mimics Tugger using his full name, because she enjoys the way it rolls off her tongue and she knows her accent makes it sound a little funny. “Surely you trust my taste by now.”

“Not unconditionally.” 

“It’s French,” Villanelle promises them as she goes to turn on the screen.  “-Ish. And romantic. You will watch it, and be grateful that your lives are not anywhere near as terrible as this couple’s are!”

“Moulin Rouge?” Knock Out asks in confusion as the title screen pops up.  “I’m not sure I understand the need for dramatics. It all ends happily enough, doesn’t it?”

Villanelle stares back at him wordlessly, one eyebrow raised.

“...It... I may have caught Starscream watching it once. And I’m positive they get back together safely at the end.”

“Do not spoil it for the cats!” Villanelle tries not to sound too gleeful at this newly collected potential blackmail on the Decepticon second-in-command. She sits down in the grass by Knock Out’s feet, and Tugger settles in beside her with Misto at his side, and Villanelle spends a moment reflecting that it would be really fun to teach them some of these songs.

She wonders if cats can technically sing?

chapter one—the price of gold

~~ read Swan Song here ~~

Ruby and Ashley are talking about boys. They are always talking about boys, I realize now that I am old enough to hang out with them. Problem is: the number of boys our age in town is very close to zero. So they always end up talking about Bob, Granny's hot janitor, or Sean Herman, the son of a skunk who has gotten Ashley pregnant before deciding they should go their separate ways.

Ashley is a pretty girl but very poor. She lives with a stepmother and two half-horrible-sisters. But the main thing about Ashley is—she's been pregnant for ages. No, seriously, ever since I was born. I don't know what it is she's been carrying in her stomach for almost two decades—in fact, I'm not sure I want to find out—but I do know that whatever it is it'll never be born. It is just one of the 'frozen in time' things around here.

However, no one but me is aware of that. To them it has only been nine months. It is only I that have grown up watching the longest-standing pregnancy in the universe. Ashley and I sort of look alike: we're both small with blonde hair, large blue eyes and that good girl face that means next to nothing around here since neither of us is considered a "good girl"; Ashley got into the train wreck category with her teenage pregnancy, while I'm still considered an unstable child.

Ruby must have a category of her own. Tall, slim and beautiful, she makes boys and girls crack their necks for a good long look. Black hair that goes down to her waist. Brown eyes and thick red lips that makes people crazy. With her boobs and her endless legs, she is considered somewhat of a homewrecker. But Ruby is funny and cool and she doesn't give a damn to what people in Storybrooke think of her. A total diva.

It's late now; definitely way past my curfew. Still, I've decided it is preferable to face Regina's wrath later than go home now while she's probably still up and waiting for me. I lean against the peeled wall outside the library, sharing a soda with the other girls, trying to ignore the boredom of the night, thinking about how much of the same my sixteenth summer will be.

Thinking about my upcoming birthday, it is impossible not to wish for something great to happen. Something special… something… unexpected...

The sound of motorcycles startle us. We move our heads to the right in synchrony, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever is coming our way. The noise has called a bunch of people to their windows, their faces mirroring the curiosity I feel. Mounting the bikes is two strangers in leather jackets and jeans. There really isn't anything all that special about their appearances except that they weren't expected—they are a surprise, they are new, absolute mysteries.

Ashley, Ruby and I are opened-mouthed.

The bikers come to a halt before us, slowly removing their helmets so they can speak to us. They both have dark brown hair, but one of them is larger, stronger, and looks to be about twenty years old. The slender, younger one is closer to us in age, and he sets his dark-green eyes on me when he says, "Hey there. Is this Storybrooke?"

Although he is clearly talking to me, the three of us nod together, our shock too great for words.

"Any place to get a room around here?" asks the other one, hiding a smile.

Ruby is the first to recover, as it's to be expected. "Uh… You're staying then?"

The two of them exchange a meaningful look before the older one answers: "That's the plan. Just looking for a bed." His words have a forced tranquility to it, as if he's trying to sound nonchalant about it. I wonder if they don't want to call attention to themselves. I feel sorry for them if that's the case—they might as well have announced their arrival in national television.

"Granny's Bed & Breakfast is just up the road," Ruby happily provides. She gives them that wicked grin she's known for. Of course she's glad to have them stay at Granny's—that's where she lives so she'll get to see them on a daily basis for as long as they stick around. "Another two blocks that way."

Talk about second intentions...

"Thanks," says the dark-green-eyed stranger. I notice he is still looking at me and I blush a little. Thank God is nighttime so he might not notice my embarrassment. The newcomers turn their bikes around, ready to go their merry way, when something urges me forward.

"Wait!" I call, not sure where my courage is coming from. "We didn't catch your names."

The larger boy looks over his shoulder and answers with a grin: "That's because we didn't give it." And they disappeared into the night without further explanation.

"Wow," Ruby breathes. I think she might be hyperventilating.

"Strangers don't come to Storybrooke," I mutter to myself, frowning. I mean, other than Lily that has never happened. People just don't wander here—something prevents them from finding this place.

Ashley and Ruby give me a funny look. "I'm going home," I decide wishing them a goodnight and starting to make my way back to the mayor's house. When people start looking at me like I don't make sense is when it's time to remove myself.

Of course Regina is waiting up for me when I arrive. Nothing gives her a good night's sleep like yelling at me before bed. But tonight, I barely hear her bickering. My mind is far away.

I want to know what those strangers are doing here. Does it mean something? Or is their presence fleeting, a teasing of sorts, like Lily's, showing me what's out there and then yanking it away just as I start to get attached?

I am sent to bed and gladly obey. I practically run upstairs and I cross my room in just a few strides to the window seat from where I look at the great clock tower on the horizon.

Certain as the sunrise, and for the first time in sixteen years, the needle moves.

Next morning, while I am getting ready for school, I hear the grinding noise of a motorcycle, too close to be anywhere but in front of my house. I run back to the window seat. There he is, yes, the dark-green-eyed stranger, looking up directly at me like he knew the noise would get my attention. I dash from my bedroom, through the corridor, down the stairs, across the foyer and out the front door, demanding to know what the hell he thinks he's doing here at this hour.

He climbs off of his bike, slowly, as if the short, blonde, angry teenager isn't a real threat to him. Calmly he pulls a screwdriver from his jacket pocket, knees on the asphalt and starts tinkering with something under his transportation. "Hey, blondie," he says without even glancing at me. "Just fixing my bike."

"You were not," I say, a little too defensively. "You were watching me."

That makes him look at me, a dark eyebrow slightly raised. "Someone has a big sense of her own importance."

I feel my cheeks coloring. "Shut up," I say quickly. "That's not what I meant. What are you doing in Storybrooke?"

"Just visiting," he answers convincingly, but his eyes are no longer on my face.

"That doesn't happen," I accidentally say aloud. He looks at me again, unresponsive, and I decide to change tactics. I point to a wooden box that's tied to his motorcycle, something I had not noticed until now. "What is that?"

"A box."

I grit my teeth. My hand is itching to slap that arrogant tone off his voice. He is utterly annoying and something tells me he's doing it on purpose to frustrate me. Confident, black-haired, easy-smile jerk. I decide I don't like him one bit.

"And what's inside the box?" I ask, making a big show of pretending to be calm.

"Something me and my friend need to do," he says as he brings himself up and puts the screwdriver back in his pocket.

"Didn't you say you were just visiting?"

"Doesn't mean we don't have something to do." He mounts his bike and gives it a start, just as Regina is coming out of the front door. She is already giving us her control-freak-stare. She calls my name. "You better go," the stranger says in what I classify as a patronizing tone of voice. I'm about to give a salty retort when he adds, in a much more natural tone: "Be prepared."

The warning makes me shiver like someone just poured cold water over me. I have no reply for that. I don't even hear Regina marching towards me until the woman is standing right in front of me. Luckily, the stranger has left.

"Who was that?" Regina demands, but she sounds different. Puzzled. I shrug. "He was talking to you."

"I never got his name," I admit, now feeling stupid for not having asked. I look at my mother. She seems concerned. "What's wrong?"

Regina glances down the street where the stranger has disappeared. "I don't know. He looks familiar."

"Hmmm. Maybe he was one of the victims in your path of destruction, mom," I jeer. She doesn't like that, but seems indisposed to argue.

"Stay away from him, Hannah," she tells me with firm, cold eyes.

"Why would I do that?"

"You'll do that because I told you to," she answers impatiently, and then Madam Mayor is off to terrorize the neighborhood.

Ruby, Ashley and I are having breakfast at Granny's as it's our custom. Ashley is a little down in the dumps which isn't her usual self. She is always so hopeful, so faithful. In fact, as I look around watching the known faces of Storybrooke I notice that everyone seems in a different mood today. They wear different clothes, talk about different subjects, try different food.

"Last night I felt contractions," Ashley says, breaking me of my reverie, when Ruby inquires to her well-being, "and Dr. Whale said the baby could come any day now."

I don't know much about babies, but I find that Ashley doesn't look as excited to give birth (after years of gestation) as one would expect. I know it's hard for her—being eighteen and pregnant—but as far as I know, babies are supposed to make your life better, not make you miserable. I wouldn't be so concerned if I were her, though, because her baby won't be born any day. Storybrooke won't let it.

"That's a good thing, right?" I try to lift her spirits. "You'll finally meet him or her." And I give her an encouraging smile.

That has the contrary effect I'm hoping for. Ashley's blue eyes fill with tears and she holds her breath as to not sob. Ruby puts an arm around her shoulders. "What is it, Ash? Don't cry."

"It's just…" Ashley gulps. "When the baby comes…" She shakes her head, unable to control her emotions. "No one thinks that I can do this. No one thinks I can do anything."

That hits home. I know very well how that feels. No one thinks I can do anything either.

"And maybe they're right…" Ashley lets out a sigh so heavy it shakes the table. "Maybe I'm not what's best for this baby." .

"No!" I say, a little louder than intended. "Screw that! Everyone loves to tell us what we can and can't do. But screw them. You have to do what you think it's best. It's on you. My mom once told me… She said that people are always gonna tell you who you are. And you just gotta punch back and say 'no, this is who I am'." It isn't something I do, quote Regina to people, but that is one of my good memories of my mom so I might as well cherish it.

Ruby smiles. "Yeah, Hannah's right. You want people to look at you differently? Make 'em, Ash. Show them who you are. Show them you can do this."

Ashley stares at her own hands for a long time after that. When she finally raises her eyes, her expression hides something I can't decipher. Like she is keeping something from me.

"Do you ever wonder…" Ashley stops herself, trying to choose her words carefully, I presume. "Do you ever wonder who your real parents are?" She says this softly as if she fears my reaction.

I'm used to this kind of questions by now. I get them all the time from Dr. Hopper. "The right term is biological parents," I tell her, almost automatically. "My mom, although a pain in my ass, is very much real."

"Of course. I'm sorry, Hannah. That's not what I meant," Ashley says quickly. "It's just… Well, if I give this baby away like everyone expects me to do… I don't want him or her to wonder who I am or… or why I didn't want… why I couldn't…"

"It will wonder," I say, eyes on my plate. I feel something odd inside of me and find I can't look at Ashley. I'm wondering if this is what my biological mother looked like just before she gave me away. "No matter what. It can have the greatest life and still it will wonder why you gave it away. I'm not judging you," I add, forcing my eyes to meet Ashley's horrified expression. "It's just a fact. The question is always there in the back of my mind."

I can tell this is the wrong thing to say. Ashley looks even more depressed. Ruby tries to change the subject, telling us about her misadventures with Bob, Granny's hot janitor. Ashley smiles a bit after that. My mind, however, is stuck in that unfortunate topic. Dr. Hopper brought it up a dozen times—do I really want to meet my biological parents? Of course I've always been curious, but Regina convinced me a long time ago that if someone didn't want you, they didn't deserve you wanting them. But after seeing Ashley so distraught… What if my parents had wanted me but couldn't keep me? What then? Did it change how I feel about them? Is it enough to forgive them? Do they even need forgiveness?

By night, I gather the courage to talk to Regina about it. I wait until she has finished eating to ask: "Do you know who my biological parents are?" I have the odd feeling I might have asked this question before, but I can't remember if Regina has ever given me an answer. "Did you ever meet them?"

Regina's face immediately turns sour like she has sucked on a particularly acid lemon. "No," she says briskly. "It was a close adoption. No interactions from either part." She stands up and starts gathering plates.

I need to take several deep breaths before asking my next question. "Would you… Would you help me find them if I wanted to?"

Regina drops a fork dramatically. "Why are you doing this today?"

"It's just a question," I say. "I'm curious. It's not a big deal. I'd just like to know if they—"

"They are the people who abandoned you," she finishes for me. "What difference will it make knowing their names? I'm your mother. Nothing can ever change that."

I look away so she won't see me cry. "I know, mom. I just think that it might be good for me to—"

Again, she doesn't let me speak. "Why don't you let me decide what's good for you, Hannah? That's my job." She sets the dishes inside the sink. "I'll clean this in the morning. I'm going to bed. I suggest you do the same."

Ashley doesn't show up for breakfast the next morning. She doesn't show up at work either. Nobody sees her the entire day. By 4 O'clock, I'm so worried I end up going to Ashley's house, but her stepmother says she hasn't seen Ashley since lunch. Apparently, she has packed her bags and left a little after that, which her stepmother considers a "good thing".

As I wander the streets trying to digest that, I bumped into the last person I expect to see in the sunny park of Storybrooke—Mr. Gold.

What to say about him? The guy is creepy. He has the face of an evil gecko and he always looks at me like he knows everything about me, things I'm not even aware of. Everyone is afraid of him. And worse of all: he owns the town. There is even a rumor going around saying he has more power over Storybrooke than Regina.

"Just who I was looking for," he says to me and then adds, before I can answer, "I have a proposition for you, Miss Mills. I need your help to find you little friend, Miss Boyd."

I guess we're waaaay past creepy now. Ashley has fallen off the face of the Earth and Mr. Gold, of all people, is after her? What can he possibly want with a pregnant, runaway teenager?

As if reading my mind, Mr. Gold says, "She's taken something quite valuable of mine." He keeps the accusation off his tone, trying to sound like a concerned friend. But he isn't concerned. He is a hunter going after his prey.

"Uh…" I try to step away from him. "Mr. Gold, why don't you just talk to Graham?" Graham is the sheriff of Storybrooke. If something has really been stolen from Mr. Gold, he would press charges, wouldn't he?

"Because uh…" he hesitates, measuring his next words "She's a confused young woman and she's pregnant. Alone. Scared. I don't have to tell you this, Miss Mills." He makes a pained expression that doesn't fool me one bit. "I don't want to ruin your friend's life. I just want my property returned."

This is getting weirder and weirder. "What is it?" I ask, frowning.

"Well, one of the advantages of you not being the police is discretion, Miss Mills," he says, his face contorting in a creepy smile (if you can call it that). "Let's just say it's a precious object and leave it at that. You're friends with Miss Boyd. Find her. Convince her to return what's mine and I won't press charges. See, she hurt me physically." He pulls his hair backwards so I can see a faint bruise on his forehead. "She could end up in big trouble."

That is crazy talk. Ashley can't have done that; she wouldn't hurt a fly. Yet he has physical evidence to support his claim. "When did that happen?" I gesture to the bruise.

"Last night," he tells me. "She broke into my store and attacked me. She was rambling about changing her life? It is so unlike her. Miss Mills, please, help me find her. She must've said something to you. Where she was going? Why?"

"No," I say, disappointed at myself. I can't help thinking that if Ashley neglected to tell me something is because I didn't make myself available to her. "She didn't tell me anything. But I'll look for her. Leave it to me, Mr. Gold."

He tries another smile (I wish he wouldn't, it doesn't make him any less bizarre). "Great. Send my regards to your mother. And good luck."

As soon as he is out of sight, I rush to the first place that comes to mind—Sean's house. Luckily—as Gold has wished me—Sean is the one who answers the door. "Hannah!" he exclaims, looking frightened. "What—What are you doing here? Did something happen?"

He must think his baby has been born or something, the poor bastard. "Actually, yes," I say, unsympathetically. "Something did. Ashley… She's gone. She's in trouble. I thought maybe she came to see you—"

"My son doesn't have anything to do with that girl anymore," a harsh voice says from inside the house. Mr. Herman appears behind his son in the hallway looking unfriendly. "Whatever trouble she's in, I'm sorry for, but there's nothing we can do to help."

I make a face. I really don't like this man. I'm pretty sure he is the reason Sean has broken up with Ashley in the first place. Well, him and Sean's lack of guts.

"Dad…" Sean starts to say. "Maybe we should help her look."

"It's a waste, son."

"If you want to help me, I'd appreciate it," I tell Sean. "If that's what you want. Stop letting other people make decisions for you. If Ashley runs away with this baby, she's gonna be in some serious trouble."

"She's—She's running away with the baby?" A glimmer of something crosses his eyes—something I can't identify, but it gives me hope for Sean.

"Yes."

"Sean." Mr. Herman puts a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back. "Inside. Now."

After a brief moment of hesitation, in which I speculate as to what his reaction will be, Sean makes the weak choice again and does as he father orders him. I roll my eyes. Boys can be pretty pathetic.

Mr. Herman stares at me, arms crossed over his chest. "If I knew where she was, I would tell you, Miss Mills. You know that. I went to a lot of trouble to get her that deal."

I blink, confused. "Deal?" I repeat, the word sounding strangely forbearing. "What deal?"

"You don't know?" It's Mr. Herman's turn to frown. "Ashley agreed to give up the child and she's being paid very well to do so."

"She sold the baby?" I feel something awful clawing in my stomach. So that's what Ashley is keeping from me. She knows how upset I'd be.

"Oh, you make it sound so crass," Mr. Herman says. "I found someone who's going to find that child a good and proper home."

"And who are you to judge whether Ashley is capable of providing that?" I snap. There is a ringing in my ears.

"Just look at her—a teenager!" he scoffs. "She's never shown any evidence of being responsible. That's how she got pregnant. How could she possibly know how to be a mother?"

"You don't need much to be a mother," I say, although, I guess, I don't know anything about it.

"You say that because you aren't one, Miss Mills," Mr. Herman echoes my thoughts. "And when it comes to that, you've had a pretty good one that can give you anything you want. I found someone who's going to pay Ashley extremely well, someone who's going to see to it that everybody's happy."

"Except Ashley."

Suddenly it all becomes clear to me. The person who is behind all of this—Mr. Gold. I understand now the seriousness of Ashley's troubles.

They are great indeed.

For nobody has ever broken a deal with Mr. Gold before. Nobody.

I run all the way to Granny's looking for Ruby. I find her right away, waiting on some tables. I grab her by the arm (Hey!—Ouch!—Hannah!) and push her behind the counter.

"What the hell—?"

"Why didn't you tell me Ashley sold the baby?" I demand. The people in the nearest tables turn their necks to look at us.

"Shhh!" says Ruby. "You can't go around shouting these things, Hannah."

"So you knew," I accuse. I already suspected that she would, but it still hurts me a little bit to have been left out. "She told you and not me."

Ruby has the grace to look apologetic. "It's nothing personal, Hannah," she says. "Just that… Well, you're the mayor's daughter. And, uh, with you being adopted and all… She just didn't want you to think less of her."

"I would never do that!" I shout. More people look our way. I make an effort to lower my voice. "I'm trying to help her, Ruby. Do you have any idea… She can't handle Gold on her own."

Ruby sighs. "Trust me, I know." Ruby considers me for a moment before deciding to tell me what she knows. "She left town, alright? Said she was gonna try Boston. Thought she could disappear there. And just so you know, this is all because of you, okay, Hannah? Everything you told her yesterday? She wants to keep her baby now."

Inhale. Exhale. First things first. "How long ago did she leave?"

"A few hours maybe. I don't know. But if she thinks this is best who are we to—"

"No!" I shout. "She can't leave town. Nobody can. Bad things happen when we try, Ruby. We have to stop her before she gets hurt."

Ruby looks at me like I'm a lunatic, but agrees to come with me. She grabs her car keys and we are off. Ruby drives fast, way over the limit. When we reach the town line, we catch sight of Ashley's rented car by the side of the road.

"I told you!" I cry. "Bad things happen when we try to leave!"

Ruby steps on the break. I almost throw myself out of the car. Ashley is sitting on the grass, a little farther from the road, looking like she is in a lot of pain. She must have crawled all the way there after she crashed the car. From the look of things, she's—

"My baby," Ashley sobs, rubbing her stomach. Her next words don't make any sense to me. "It's coming."

Ruby and I half-carry, half-drag Ashley to the car. On the ride back, Ashley shouts, cries and moans, which only increases my anxieties. I don't understand what is going on. She has been pregnant for almost two decades. Why would she have the baby today? Why now? What has changed?

The answer comes to me almost immediately. The two newcomers. The clock tower. It is all connected, it has to be. If the clock tower moved—it must mean that time has finally started to move forward. Which means today is the first original, unexpected day we have. Which means from now on people are acting of their own volition. Which means… everything is changing.

"I can't go back there!" Ashley shouts between intakes of breath. "Girls, please, take me to Boston! I can't—"

"We don't have four hours to get to Boston!" Ruby says. "Your baby won't wait!"

"I can't go back there," Ashley keeps saying. "He's going to take my baby!"

"I won't let that happen," I promise her, knowing that I'm way in over my head. I look at my friend and I see that shadow of what might've been my own mother fighting to keep me with her, and I know that I will do whatever it takes to help Ashley keep her baby. "But you have to know what you're asking for, alright?" I say. "If you keep this baby, are you really ready?"

Ashley looks just as certain as I feel. "Yes," she says. "I want my baby."

And so it is decided.

Ashley gives birth to a healthy 6-pound girl. Ruby holds her hand the entire time. When I go to get Ashley some water, I find Mr. Gold waiting for me in the waiting area.

"Why didn't you tell me you were after her baby?" I ask wondering if my mom will understand if I kick Mr. Gold in the shins.

He doesn't seem affected by my accusation. "You know your friend," he half-shrugs. "The hard life she's got. Surely the situation must make sense to you of all people, Miss Mills. You are well aware of the good life adopted children can have."

I feel my heart beating in my ears. The nerve of the man! Maybe if I kick his walking stick he will fall face-first on the ground. "You're not getting that kid," I say. "It's not yours."

"We have an agreement," he says ominously, "and my agreements are always honored. If not, I'm going to have to involve the police and that baby is going to end up in the system. That's an experience you've never had, thankfully for you, Miss Mills."

I gulp. I don't like his tone. I don't like him—not one bit.

"Then make a deal with me," I offer, my tongue seeming to have a life of its own. I have no control over my next words. "Ashley gets to keep her baby. I'll do whatever you want."

For whatever reason, Mr. Gold seems very interested in my offer. His eyes widen and he gives me such a genuine smile he barely looks like the same person from seconds ago. It is as if me owing him something is extremely valuable, as if I can accomplish great things for him. He sees great profit coming from this.

"Deal," he says.

I feel my fate being sealed and I wonder if I have just made a grave mistake.

Lynn 89

I got there and Lynn was late again. I sat there on my phone until she got there and then she invited me in. When I came in she asked how I was doing and I said good and I asked how her non-vacation was. She said it was all right, it was New York and it was kind of raining and you know how it is. And I was like yeah but did you get to see any shows? And she was like well yeah we saw one and I was like which one and she said pretty woman and I was like well did you like it and she was like well honestly Not really. She said it wasn’t her favorite and she wasn’t sure what about it she didn’t like but her and her daughter kind of felt the same and they were like not sure if it was the music or just that it wasn’t a good movie to make into a musical. She was like I mean the actors were incredible and really well-known but if it’s not Julia Roberts somehow it’s not the same. I said I could see that but honestly I’ve only seen the movie once and that was two weeks ago so for me I don’t think that will really be an issue. She was like wait are you going to see yet and I was like yeah I’m going this weekend actually so I will let you know how I like it. She was like well also my other big complaint was that they didn’t include the song pretty woman and I was like wait really and she was like now and I was like him and I guess they didn’t get the licensing rights for it and she was like yeah they must not have but you would think that they would have gone out of their way to get that because I think everybody’s kind of anticipating that song and I was like yeah definitely that’s a let down and that will definitely be one of my critiques too. She was like either way it’ll still be a good show and I was like so basically it’s a good show it’s just not a good show of the movie and she was like yeah pretty much because you know it’s a classic movie and kind of an odd storyline but it will be good and it’s just always nice being the theater and seeing a show live. She was like you might have better seats than we did because we were in the back mezzanine and I was like well we are also the mezzanine so maybe not but she said it’s a small theater so we will be able to see the show just fine wherever we sit. I said that was good and she asked how I’ve been and I said super anxious but I know what I need to work on today and she was like well perfect let’s jump in when we need to work on and I was like well honestly like it’s stupid but I’ve just been so anxious lately because I feel like I have the air in topic has been coming up a lot and I said how Wes and I went to coffee and it got brought up about her And her being emotional and a session and then I saw someone who are used to be in treatment with so it brought up a lot of thoughts about the past when that all fell apart and now with the recent situation with having one of her old clients and knowing that Aaron knows about me it has just made me so unbelievably anxious and I explained how I really struggled to calm down last night and I even called my husband and was going to ask him to come home right after he got done with practice but he didn’t pick up and I just ate dinner and play piano for a while to try to calm down. I think she asked what about it all makes me so anxious and I was like honestly I don’t even know it’s like part of me is worried that I feel like she would be the type of person to badmouth me and Lynn got real into it about how if she does badmouth me that would be violating Hyppa and I could contact the board and if she says anything then I could call Aaron and say I’ve been informed that you’ve been talking about me and that’s a Hyppa violations I’ve contacted the board and you should be worried. I couldn’t help but laugh at that but I was like I mean yeah but that wouldn’t stop her from necessarily being all vague and being like I can’t really say how I know her but she’s a bad therapist or I think she still really struggling in her recovery. Which lane was like that would be super unethical and you could report her if she was and I was like there’s a chance that I don’t know the people she would be talking to about me and I’ll like because really like I talk about her to my friends who are therapists because I have multiple clients with dad stories of court ethics and it’s like well but she was like you were the client so you have the right to do that she was the therapist so she does not. I’m going to guess that makes sense but it doesn’t stop me from worrying and she was like what are you afraid That she thinks and I was like I mean I guess just that she thinks that I’m dumb not doing well which is kind of what I would imagine she would believe because that’s kind of like the sense that I get from the old nutritionist that they just assume that we are doing poorly and based on relapse rates I mean I can see why but it’s like really frustrating. She was like OK well then we can do some EMD are on that. Lynn pointing out that I’m doing very well for myself and I’m a successful Therapist and she thinks maybe there’s a chance that somebody like Aaron shouldn’t be practicing given all of the clients who have had bad experiences with her. She pointed out that Therapist burn out and sometimes they handle things really poorly and unfortunately I seem to of been on the receiving end of some of that and I was like or something. Lynn said that she thinks it’s all connected because that was the abandonment peace and we’ve been talking about stepping down and termination and all of that and I was like I guess so I’m she was like so why don’t we just go with that. Also Lynn pointed out that she thinks anybody with my history with Aaron would feel anxious about having connections with her where the thought of possibly talking to her. I told her that I always get so anxious every time I’m in Whole Foods because I worry that I’m going to run into work and I don’t even know what I would say and I’ve gone through million scenarios in my head of ways to respond but I think ultimately I would end up panicking and being overly nice. I know that I must have seemed visibly anxious because she definitely did the sets much longer than usual and I just really couldn’t stop my foot from shaking up and down and I know at times I wasn’t really taking deep breath‘s and I was shallow breathing quickly. This whole topic just makes me so anxious. She asked me to notice what my relationship with Aaron remind me up from the past and I was like honestly I don’t know because the abandonment is familiar with like my mom but when I think about her as a person her and my mom are very very different and Arian could be intimidating and snappy and angry at times and I thought about how she had gotten very angry when I was in treatment about equine therapy ending because people in the group didn’t wanna and even though I was the only one who stuck up for him, she still Vented and took it out on me. I noticed how intimidated I felt by her at times and how easily I get intimidated by Anger and how it felt like there were a lot of things that Aaron did pretty unnecessarily. I explained how when I had relapsed I was really quiet and group at the beginning and didn’t talk to anyone because I was so ashamed of relapsing and there was one time when I haven’t done my homework for DVT and she called me out in front of the group and really embarrassed me and then kept me after group and told me that insurance was labeling me chronic and that I needed to actually start trying because they didn’t want to pay and the director was fighting with them to gap coverage and they were arguing and saying that I had Untreated newly diagnosed depression so insurance needed to cover more but that it felt like I really didn’t need to know that insurance was labeling me chronic because all that really did was further make me feel like fuck even my insurance knows I’m never going to get better. Lynn was like noticed that and I noticed how my dad had said that I was never going to get better and my mom never even acknowledged it was a problem and I feel like I’m always fighting this uphill battle to prove that I’m not who I was and I hate that feeling of being out of control because I don’t have any control over what people think about me or my recovery. I was like you know how Alexander Hamilton posted the Reynolds pamphlet and out of himself just to prove that he wasn’t a money launderer and she was like yeah and I was like I guess Innoway it just feels like I feel caught in the position of wanting to do something to prove that I’m not who they think I was but at the same time I can’t or rather that I shouldn’t do anything to try to prove to them that I’m not what they think. She asked me who I was trying to prove it to and I was like I mean I guess the people who knew me back then and she was like which is who and I was like him and I guess really it’s just Aaron Jan and Pam and I said I don’t really know what the yoga person thinks because I haven’t seen her in years now and I know the art therapist doesn’t feel that way at all because she believes that I recovered and I was like and I mean honestly those three people kind of have a reputation in the eating disorder community or at least two of them definitely do and she was like noticed that and I noticed that it just always felt like I wasn’t going to get better in their opinion and I thought about how in our last session Aaron had Asked if it would be helpful for her to share with me what she had learned from me and I said sure and she said that I taught her just how chronic and long and hard it is to recover from an eating disorder and I just sat there feeling like what the fuck so basically all I did was teach her that people don’t get better no matter how many years you put into it and I just feel like she should’ve at least faked it even if she didn’t think I was going to get better and Lynn was like is that what you do and I know she thought that I would say no but I said yes. She looked pretty caught off guard and I was like I mean sometimes the reality is that not everyone can get better she was like OK will notice that and I was like I mean because on the one hand like I would love to tell everybody that they’re going to get better but I guess it just depends on how you define recovery because realistically on paper if we look at the DSM I’m fully recovered but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t have a meltdown when I tried on form fitting clothing this past weekend it’s just that the difference now is that it’s managed and I got my shit together in the dressing room and then I left and I still ate dinner that day and didn’t obsessively think about how fat I am and don’t deserve to eat because of it but it still sucks it’s not ideal and I’m not happy living my life like that so I’m not going to necessarily pretend that that’s a fully recovered life and she was like well also noticed that and I was like I mean like with yesterday and I mean it was nice that I was able to calm myself down by playing piano and eating food and taking care of myself and you told me you noticed dad that I was able to manage overwhelming emotions and I did. I noticed that Lynn looked annoyed and I explained that I just feel like there’s a shelflife on how long people actually care and I feel like she’s annoyed and wants me to be over it and doesn’t understand why I’m still anxious about stupid things like this and I feel frustrated that I am anxious about stupid things like this and explained how we went to that wedding and how I had felt so anxious the entire time even though I had no reason to because everyone was super nice and I ended up drinking and then feeling sick and then throwing up and it’s like I don’t want to live a life where my anxiety is so overwhelming that I feel like I can’t handle it because sometimes it feels like my anxiety is so overwhelming and not managed well and I guess it feels like if it’s not the eating disorder anymore than it’s be anxiety and sometimes I feel like my anxiety will never get better. Lynn asked me what Helen would say about that and I was like well she says that EMD our can basically cure everything. I noticed that there’s a part of me that feels like my anxiety makes me just too much to handle and it made me think of in 12th grade how my best friend said that I was too much to handle when she stopped being my best friend and it’s always felt like I was too much to handle for my parents and now I just sort of always feel like I’m simultaneously too much and not enough at the same time. She asked me what Helen would say about all of this and I was like I mean I think she would say that all of the stuff certainly doesn’t develop in a bubble and it’s most certainly there because I grew up with non-nurturing mother. And she was like what else would she say and I was like well what are you referencing to because I kind of had no idea what she’s talking about and she was like let me think of how I want to ask this and I don’t even remember what it was that she asked now But It was something about what Helen would say about getting better and I was like I mean she would say keep doing EMD ER and eventually it will get better and she was like OK go with them be curious what do you need to do to get better and I was like I mean I guess just keep doing EMD are but there’s a part of me that gets anxious and things but what if Lynn gets tired of me and terminates me before I get better and she looked confused and I was like like the other night my husband made a comment about terminating my clients and I was like you can’t really just do that and he was like why you had like three Therapist do it to you and I got really upset thinking about it and I was like OK It was just the one but also it’s so weird because I saw Noelle after that and we had like a perfectly fine ending where I chose to leave therapy and I felt like I was in a good place. Lynn was like we’ve already talked about the reasons why I would terminate you and I was like yeah I know and choose like but otherwise we aren’t ending we need to finish this and she basically gave me analogy of it being kind of like a splinter and there something obvious of that we need to get out in order to deal with it and there’s obviously something stuck there and I was like yeah I guess. She said she’s not a terminating me and she knows that I know that but the goal of therapy is that I don’t keep coming back and I was like yeah I know and she was like I mean you are Therapist too so you know the goal is that her clients get better and they’re healthy and they don’t need to keep coming and she said there are natural circumstances like when you have a family you may not want to be driving here every week the goal is that you may hopefully want to do other things like spend time with your kids I was like well hopefully I’m better enough to want to do those things and not feel like I need to be in therapy and she was like yeah well I’m just saying eventually the goal is for you to feel like you can handle things. She said she has hope that I’ll get better but I need to have that hope for myself too. She said once I get better i will be a much better, and she paused and said more convincing therapist that there is hope with EMDR. I was like I know what you were about to say and she was like no you don’t and I was like ok I don’t read minds I guess but I have that resting bitch face so it’s not that hard to fake it lol. She was like well I think it will be more convincing still. I said how I get so anxious so easily over everything and lately the joke is that my husband checks my pulse and it’s like why is it always so dang high. She took out her planner and said that we are rescheduled for next week so do we want to schedule for the following. I said yes and we planned for that. I apologized and said that the tappers were really sweaty and she was like it’s fine and she was like the next person might or might not use them but they’re probably used to that type a thing and I was like OK and she was like you know because you never know when people want to avoid doing EMD ER and I was like yeah I definitely know what that’s like and she was like because that happens a lot when people come in there like can we just not do that today and I’m like no we need to keep working because we have goals right? I knew she didn’t mean that she forces them to do trauma work but rather that she reminds them that the way to get better is to keep going with trauma work. She went to take her iPad for payment then she was like oh never mind and I was like wait did you figure out what I owe you and she was like no I’m gonna do it this week and I was like when you said that like three weeks ago and she was like yeah well you know I just like putting off paperwork and I was like I totally understand I’m pretty behind myself on some things. I asked her if she wanted to hear something interesting and she said yes and I told her about how I had found a piece of paper that had fallen out of my binder when I was unpacking a box from school and I asked her if she kept all of her stuff from school and she was like honestly I have a backpack in the garage that I need to just get rid of. I was like yeah I totally always think that I’m going to go back through it but I never do but anyway that piece of paper was a test that helps determine which part of her brain is not functioning right and for me of course the basal ganglia was one and that’s responsible for sort of compulsive anxious thinking and when I looked up Ways to heal the basal ganglia and what came up was an article about a researcher who does a lot of work with Parkinson’s disease and mindfulness and how with the basal ganglia controlling automatic movement he has people thoroughly learn mindfulness to shift their brain away from using the basal ganglia and having their frontal lobe override the basal ganglia and taking control is that they no longer have the Parkinson’s symptoms. She was like that’s interesting but I think with trauma you have to deal with the trauma first to be able to do some of that and she was like I think it works great together to be working on both and She said like how they always say to do medicine and therapy works best together and she laughed and was like I don’t really think that’s true but in this case mindfulness and therapy I think I do work well together. I was like I would need to look into it a little bit more but I think trauma is stored in a different part of the limbic system so it may actually be two separate processes. She said oh maybe and she open the door and I headed out and we said goodbye. As I walked to my car I realized that I felt so sweaty and gross and I really don’t think I’ve ever felt that like physically anxious for an entire session with her.

Here Today, There In Five Seconds

Type: Stray Kids Scenario (I might make this into a series, I got some good ideas if people like it enough)

Pairing: ReaderxStrayKids (I haven’t decided who she’ll end up with)

Description: One second you’re on the beach in Hawaii.  The next, you‘re in Seoul, standing right in front of your idols, Stray Kids.  Will they be able to help you figure out how this happened and how to get you back?  Warning-  feelings may develop along the way…

You leaned back into the sun’s bright rays, smiling at the warmth.  You were in Hawaii for winter break and you were determined to soak up as much sun as you could before you had to return to your cold and rainy home.  Taking a dip in the Pacific Ocean seemed to be the perfect way to do so… 

After flinching at the initial cold of the saltwater, you quickly adjusted and stepped further in so your knees were submerged.  Admiring the glittering teal water, you noticed a small shape face down in the water a few feet away from you.  Without hesitation, you sprinted over to it, and discovered a small girl.  She wasn’t breathing.  You scooped her body up and ran towards the shore, laying her down.

“Somebody!  Get a lifeguard!”  You yelled, as you shook her body gently to try to stir her.  You placed your ear right above her mouth, and suddenly felt a small puff of air.  You shot up and looked into her now-open eyes.

“You saved me,” she said, smiling.

“Of course,” you replied, helping her sit up.

“Please accept this necklace as my gratitude.”  Wow, big words for a small girl. She placed a silver necklace with a beautiful pale turquoise charm into your hand, closing your fingers over it.  .

“I don’t need anything in return, here, you can have your necklace.  It looks very valuable.”  You tried to hand it back to her, but she pushed your hand back towards you.

“No, please, I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”  You sighed, and clipped it around your neck.

“Okay, if it’ll make you happy.”  She smiled brightly, and hopped up.

“I wish you luck with all your life’s adventures,” she said, and skipped down the beach, leaving a very confused lifeguard carrying an AED.  Not very punctual, is he?  You made your way back into the water, the cold much less evident after having been in the water already.  A sudden playful laugh from five feet away attracted your attention to a group of friends, probably only a couple years older than you, laughing and having the time of their lives.  You sighed.  If only you could have a friendship like that.  You found yourself imagining you could be like that with your idols, Stray Kids.  They hadn’t even debuted yet, but you saw their survival show and admired them so much for their dedication and talent.  Not to mention they had the most amazing personalities.  You could only imagine how fun it’d be to have such personalities as friends of yours.  I wonder where they are right now.  I hope they’re at home getting some much-deserved rest.  No sooner than you had thought that, a feeling of vertigo washed over you, so bad you had to shut your eyes.  When it finally passed, you opened your eyes, finding yourself face-to-face with non other than the members of Stray Kids, bundled up and staring at you with a look of pure shock.  You could only imagine your face mirrored theirs.  Suddenly very aware of your lack of covering in a snow-covered city, you were assuming that city was in Seoul, you shivered and began shaking.  Shorts and a crop top didn’t exactly cut it in twenty degree weather.  Finally finding your voice, you said the first thing that came to mind.

“What the hell?!” 

Chan was the first to recover.  He took a step towards you and studied your face.

“How did you get here?  Where did you come from?” he asked in English, glancing at your current attire.

“I’m not exactly sure…” you began slowly, still trying to process your situation.  “One second I’m in the Pacific Ocean, the next I’m freezing my ass off wherever I am now.”  You tried to limit your sass, hopefully it was enough.  You kind of lost that filter when you were practically dying of hypothermia.  A sudden movement from behind Chan caught your eye.  It was Felix, your bias.  He walked toward you, subtly pushing past Chan.

“God, Chan, she’s cold.  Give her a break, she looks as confused as we are,” he chided and you nodded, although with your shivering you probably appeared to be having a seizure.  “Here, you must be freezing, take my coat.”  He held his winter coat out for you, leaving himself in just a sweater and a  scarf on top.  You hesitated.

“Are you sure?  You’ll be cold without it,” you asked, mentally shaking your head at yourself.   God, I’m so pathetic, you thought, caring more about his well-being than my own.

“Look, you’re in practically nothing and it’s freezing out here.  I’ll be fine.  Will you please take it?”  

“Okay,”  You conceded, reaching out to take it from his outstretched hand.  “Thank you.”  Pulling it on, you resisted the urge to sigh in relief at the warmth from the coat.

“So, uh, what’s your name?”  Chan asked, moving back towards his place from before Felix pushed past.

“(y/n).”

“So, (y/n), let’s get you inside first, and then we can figure this whole thing out when you’re warm and in, uh, slightly less revealing clothing,” Chan suggested.  Even freezing to death, your face flushed with heat when you remembered what you were wearing.  It’s amazing how long it takes you to process things when you’re cold.  Like the fact that you were practically half-naked in front of your biggest idols on the planet.  That hit you like a truck.  You cleared your throat.

“Oh, um, okay.  But you know you don’t have to do this.  You’re not responsible for helping me.”

“You really think we’re going to just leave you here to die?  We’re not that bad, (y/n),” Felix laughed, nudging your arm with his elbow.  You could tell that was his subtle way of saying ‘don’t even try to argue’.  “Come on, let’s get you warm.”  You followed Felix, Chan in tow.  It was impossible to ignore the loud flopping and squelching sounds coming from your flip flops, and you cringed.  Just when you thought you were finally getting the hang of walking on ice in wet flip-flops, your foot skidded over a thick patch of ice.  Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as your feet were suddenly uprooted, your body headed straight for the ground.  Before you could make contact with the pavement, a pair of strong hands latched themselves under your arms, pulling you back upward.  when your feet found the ground again, the arms were still around you, and you were staring into Chan’s eyes.

“Wow, uh, thanks! That would’ve been painful,” you thanked him, getting slightly flustered.  his arms still hadn’t left yours, and his eyes still bore into you.

“Don’t mention it.  I guess you really are our damsel in distress.”  You had to look away to hide your blush.

“I guess that makes you my knight in shining armor?”  Chan winked, and you laughed.

“Stop messing around, let’s keep moving,” Felix ordered suddenly, his voice gruffer and grumpier than before.  Chan immediately released his hold on you and you righted yourself, turning to face Felix.  Was it your imagination or did he seem angry about something?  Was it because of your clumsiness?  You knew it could be a problem at times, but you had never thought it would anger someone.  You didn’t want any tension or anything, so you sped up to catch Felix.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I annoyed you.  I’ve been working on being less of a klutz but obviously it’s not working out too well.”  His face softened as he turned to face you.

“Don’t worry, I’m not upset at you.  It’s nothing.”  He paused for a moment. “But I do think you should use my arm for support.  Take it from someone who grew up on the beach- walking in wet flip-flops is no easy feat.  Especially on ice.  We wouldn’t want you to fall and break your tailbone or anything.”

“Hah!  Been there, done that,” you laughed, remembering your various sports injuries.  You listened to his suggestion, though, and grabbed his outstretched arm.

“Oh really?  Do tell.”

“Well I used to play soccer at a super competitive level.  Like a step down from professional.  And I would get injured a lot from the collisions.  One time I collided with a girl and landed hard and poof!  I had a broken tailbone.”

“Wow, that sounds painful.”

“Oh, it was.  Sitting, standing, I was constantly in pain.”  You stopped to glance at him.  “Sorry, I’m talking your ear off.”

“No, no!  Please continue, it’s nice to talk to another English-speaker.  Chan never lets me talk to him in English because he wants me working on my Korean.”

“Oh that must be so tiring, I’m sorry.  That really sucks.”  He nodded.

“Okay, we’re approaching the dorms,” Chan announced.  “(y/n), please put your hood up so it covers our face and look down.”

“Uh, alright.”  You thought it best not to argue. 

As you approached the building, it suddenly became very clear why they covered you up.  A throng of girls stood in front of the building, phones and cameras at the ready.

“Ah, shit,” Chan grumbled.  “I was hoping there would be less.  Felix, you’ll have to sneak her around the back.  We’ll go through the front and distract them.”  Felix nodded and took your hand, guiding you through a relatively hidden path.  Your heart beat erratically as your hands made contact, and you hoped he wouldn’t notice your face flush.

“We have to move quickly, you never know when they’ll pop up,” he warned, pulling you along.  You, being your typical clumsy self, slipped on the ice a few times, but Felix helped you regain your balance every time it happened.  Finally, you made it inside unseen.

Inside their dorm, Felix sat you down on the couch in the living room and disappeared down the hallway after an ‘I’ll be right back.’  While waiting, you realized you had forgotten about your phone.  You pulled it out of your pocket and checked your notifications.  Luckily, you didn’t have any panicked messages from your mom, she was pretty blasé about your whereabouts, as long as you weren’t drinking or anything.  

“Here you go.”  You jumped at his voice, your phone falling out of your hands and onto the couch.  “Put these on, you’ll be much warmer,” he said as he tossed you a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

“Thank you, you really don’t-” once again, he cut you off.

“It’s really not a problem, please just put them on?”

“Okay.”  He directed you to the nearest bedroom, luckily with a lock, and sat down on the couch.  You chuckled at the cute mess of a state the room was in.  It was nice to know they weren’t completely perfect.

Once you had gotten dressed, the other boys had joined Felix in the living room.  Felix made room for you to sit on the couch, and Chan proceeded to grill you.

“Where were you before, uh, this whole thing happened?” he asked.

“I was on the beach in Hawaii.”

“How did you get here?  I mean, you just appeared out of nowhere.  How is that possible?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m as clueless as you.  I have no idea how this happened,” you told him, still shivering despite the clothes.  You were indoors, but it takes a while to warm up after being that cold.

“(y/n), do you need a blanket?”  Felix asked, grabbing one from the other side of the couch and putting it around you.  You smiled in gratitude and turned back to Chan, who had begun speaking again.

“Can you walk us through what you were doing?  Maybe that can help us figure out how to help you get back,” he suggested.

“Alright.  So I was on the beach and I waded into the ocean.  I saw a group of friends laughing and having fun together and suddenly I was here,” you explained.

“Hmmm.  Did you say or think anything right before you, uh, did whatever you did?”  You thought for a moment.

“I was, uhm…” you hesitated, remembering what you were thinking about.  “Those friends reminded me of you guys and I wished I could have a friendship like yours.  And then I wondered what was going on with you guys, just out of curiosity, you know?”  Chan nodded, listening carefully.  At least they weren’t flipping out about you knowing them or being a fan.  “I remember wondering where you guys were for the holidays, if you were home with your families getting to rest, or something else.  That was the last thing I thought before, you know, poof…”

“I have an idea.”  Chan turned to Hyunjin and told him something in Korean.  He jumped up and ran down the hallway.  “Okay, (y/n)?  Can you think about where Hyunjin is?  Just think ‘where is Hyunjin?’  Can you do that?”

“Mmhmmm.”  You took a breath, and did what he asked.  All of a sudden, that same feeling of vertigo came over you again and you shut your eyes tight.  When you opened them, your face was a foot away from Hyunjin’s.  You yelped and whipped around, surveying your surroundings.  You were no longer in the living room, but in a bedroom.  You froze, completely in shock.  How is this happening?? Still startled, you stumbled out the door and back into the living room, just barely missing a couple walls with your face.

“(y/n), I think we just figured out how to get you home,” Chan said, smiling.

“Really?  That’s amazing, thank you guys.  How do I get home?”

“Wait- before you do anything, let us say goodbye,” Chan demanded.  “While it may not have been an ideal meeting, I don’t regret meeting you, (y/n), I hope we can meet again.”  You smiled.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Don’t forget your phone.” Felix ran over and handed you your phone from the couch.  “It was a pleasure meeting you, (y/n), happy holidays and good luck with this strange gift you have,” he said, hugging you tightly.

“I’ll miss you guys.  I can’t believe I got to meet such admirable people,” you told them, smiling to cover up the melancholy feeling of having to say goodbye.

“We’re admirable?”  Jisung asked, laughing.  “You’re the one who can teleport!”  Since when did he speak English? you wondered.  Had he understood everything this whole time?  Who else did?

“True, but you guys are still way cooler.”  You had to admit, though, what you could do was cool.

”Let’s agree to disagree.”  Chan joked. “Now, let’s get you home.  What I figured out is that when you think about where someone is, you travel to where they are.”

“Why hasn’t this happened before?  I’m sure that wasn’t the first time I’ve wondered something like that.”

“I’m not sure, maybe you just developed it for some reason.  But that doesn’t really matter, you can do it now, and you have to start being more careful about what you think.  You don’t want to be in the shower and suddenly pop up in the middle of the street naked.”

“Uh, yeah, that would be even more awkward than the situation today.”

“Yes, so let’s hope that doesn’t happen.  Now, I think to get you back, all you have to think is ‘where is that beach I was at?’ if that doesn’t work, I have another idea, but try it.”  You breathed in, and followed his instructions.  Suddenly the vertigo feeling was back.

“I feel it, it’s working.”  Cheers erupted from the members.

“Goodbye, (y/n)!”  they exclaimed as the feeling got stronger.  The last thing you saw was all the members smiling and waving at you before you were back on the beach.

The rest of the day was much less exciting, and you couldn’t help but wish you could have hung out with them longer, but you knew that was ridiculous.  They probably were happy to get rid of you.  You thought about Felix, and how sweet he was.  He was probably just being polite.  You doubted he even wanted to be friends.  A ping from your phone pulled you from your thoughts.  You opened it, revealing a message from a new contact named Felix.

<hey, I swiped your phone from the couch and called myself on it to get your number, hope you don’t mind.  I just wanted to be able to see you again.  The members do, too, so feel free to pop by any time!  Hope to see you soon. -Felix>

a/n:  Me again! Agh this was so fun to write, but it was soooo much longer than I expected, hopefully that’s a good thing XD.  Feel free to let me know if you want me to make this into an ongoing story, if you liked it, or if you have any suggestions for how to make it/my writing better, I love feedback! Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it :)

The Truth;Haechan

Sequel to Woke Up Alone

Genre: angst/- (a mixture tbh)

A/N: had this sudden idea to the fic and i hope it’s good! this came out longer than i expected and i spent 3 hours on this oh my, plus i think i’d have to make a part 3 to this because the ending- enjoy reading and tell me your opinions guys

Warnings: contains events which may be disturbing/uncomfortable to others (death, divorce etc)

Word Count: 3,839

——

Your thin and frail hands reached for the cold, metal knob of the door. The door where the one you loved the most, the one who brought you happiness, spent most of his time in.

The bedsheets were left untouched on the bed, a soft toy bunny; the one you got for him, sat lonely in the corner. The books on his table were stacked neatly, his phone and wallet placed against them.

Letting out a sigh, you closed your eyes as you tried your best not to let your emotions take over.

2 months

He has been gone for two months.

You couldn’t bring yourself to accept it. He wasn’t there to brighten up your day anymore, and instead, you felt worst than before.

Spending weeks in the hospital due to the accident, it was nothing as compared to the emotional pain you had suffered; over the loss of Haechan.

Mrs Park had tried to make things better- taking time off the cafe to spend time with you, making sure everything was fine, and trying her best to distract you from your thoughts and emotions.

But it did not work. Every single time you closed your eyes, all you could think of was him.

How he managed to put on a front when he was with you, and how he managed to put your problems above all of his sadness, just to make you feel better about yourself.

You hated yourself more, for being so selfish, and not asking Haechan once about his problems, assuming that he was the happiest person on earth, able to brighten up everyone’s day.

You hated yourself for not being able to see the emptiness and sadness that was in Haechan’s eyes from time to time, where he’d just blank out and get all quiet, with you brushing it off that he was just tired.

But did it even matter now? He is gone anyways.

A huge part of you couldn’t bring yourself to enter his apartment even once, after he had left and after recovering fully from the accident. You couldn’t bring yourself to see, hear, or smell anything that was related to him; you knew you would break down.

But day after day you found yourself missing him more, and you wanted to keep and cherish everything of him that was left.

It was the closest to him that you could get.

So after weeks of deliberation, you finally had the courage to visit his apartment; the place where the two of you shared fond memories in.

Nothing much had changed, and surprisingly, everything was neat and tidy, the same way it always was, even before he left.

Your heart ached a little as your eyes met the many photos of the both of you that were pasted on the whiteboard hanging on his wall, alongside with the many different pictures of his favourite singers, the big and familiar “Hyuck’s board of motivation!!”

A small, slightly torn, yellow book sat atop his bedside drawer.

Curious, you stepped forward to lift the book up gently, examing every detail of the cover.

Opening the book, you were greeted once again by his handwriting, alongside with a few cute little doodles, “Haechan’s Thoughts”

You raised your eyebrows as you noticed the date of the very first page - 28th March 2014. He’d been writing all of these for quite some time now.

The thoughts and things you never once knew about Haechan; you could understand him better now, through the endless amount of words he had written throughout different phases of his life.

——

• 17th August 2014 •

He hasn’t been back for exactly 4 months now, and i’m afraid to even think of the reason why. Mom’s been acting really distant lately and every time i mention about him, she’d get all worked up and vent her anger on me.

But i don’t blame her, i could never. She had done so much for me and all i can do right now is to support her. I knew something was up when i heard the two of them arguing and getting worked up over one another months ago. I just didn’t expect it to get this serious.

Yet as much as i try to make her feel better, it never works. And it hurts me. The strong woman whom i look up too is now quiet and emotionless. Our relationship has only worsened since the day he left.

On a bright side i managed to make a new friend today. A transfer kid all the way from Canada! That is so cool. I really hope we’ll become closer, he’s one of the nicest people i’ve ever met.

I hope tomorrow will be better, and that i wake up with a smile on my face, with mom being able to finally let go. Good night 11:56PM

You furrowed your eyebrows as you continued reading on, immersed in all his thoughts, as though they were all stories slowly unfolding.

• 2nd October 2014•

One of the days i’d never forget, but also, at the same time, the day i want to forget the most.

It’ll only continue to haunt me for the rest of my life.

I’m completely alone now. I never once expected mom to leave too.

She promised me she’d only get betted and stronger a few weeks back, but the divorce letters from the mail hit her strong again with a huge impact, and all i can remember is the sight of her breaking down and losing all hope at once.

The last thing i received from her was a short letter she had placed on my table, before she supposedly left for work, before i was even awake. If only i knew better.

I should have realised that she was acting strange when she came up to me the previous night to hug me tightly and give me a kiss.

But it’s all too late. The doctors have tried their best and i can still remember the faces of sympathy and sorrow when they announced to me that she didn’t make it.

I’m at a loss, and i really don’t know what to do. The two pillars of support in my life, were now gone. I’m in despair, and the emotional pain is only getting worst.

I’m afraid as to what the future may bring.

It’s been tiring for the past few days, and how i wished it was all a dream. I hope you’re feeling better there now, and that you’ve finally gotten back your smiles and laughter you once shared with me, and finally able to let all these off your chest.

I guess that’s why you decided to do it. I don’t blame you, and i will never. I love you mother, and i will always miss you. 1:36AM

You had never once imagined Haechan to go through so much, at such a young age. Your heart ached once again as you imagined how Haechan must have felt, all alone and vulnerable from all the loss he had faced.

Taking a deep breath, you flipped to another entry.

• 2nd March 2015 •

It’s been 5 months since you left, mom. I know you’re praying and wishing that i’m only getting happier and better day by day, but i’m sorry to disappoint you, but i’m not.

Teachers in school has been offering to help me, and i appreciate it. But i every time i’m all alone at home again, cold and dark, i start to miss you and your presence.

The people in school are all very nice and understanding, but a part of me still feels lost, and empty. It’s as though i’ve lost a part of myself.

My studies hasn’t been great lately and it constantly reminds me of how you’d nag at me and force me to revise and study, but now that you’re not here to do that anymore, i’ve lost all motivation.

Maybe i’ll start to feel better as time goes by, and maybe i should stop thinking too much and start putting all of the past behind. That will help, right?

Before the thoughts get the better of me again, i’ll try to sleep. All this sleepless nights has caused my head to hurt. 11:42PM

• 2nd August 2015 •

It’s the secondth again, the number i detest the most.

But today, it’s different from other months.

Inside of the usual regret and sadness i felt, i was numbed with happiness, and excitement; for the first time in so many months.

Because it’s my best friend’s birthday today. He had always knew how much the 2nd affected me, and never failed in trying to make me feel better each day.

Not going to lie, without him, i wouldn’t be here today. Each day he’d surprise me with snacks and gifts, and share with me jokes and stories, his infectious laugh spreading to me too.

He takes really good care of me and never once left my side, when other friends turned their back on me as soon as they hear my story.

And i’m thankful for him.

We had a small celebration at his favourite pizza restaurant earlier on today, and his words and actions made me forget of all the pain i suffered from each month, on this day.

It’ll only get better, have hope Haechan. 9:27PM

Haechan had mentioned to you a few times about this one guy best friend he had a few years back. But he mentioned about him after that one time. Nonetheless, you were glad that there was someone at that time that was able to help Haechan out, giving him hope and faith when he most needed.

• 23rd February 2016 •

I didn’t believe it when he first told me. Was i going to lose another one of my loved ones?

It’s all too sudden again and i could tell from his eyes that he was apologetic, and that he was sorry.

Did it mean that after two weeks, i’ll be alone again? With no one to lean on?

I guess it’s going to take a while for me to get used to everything again, without him helping me by my side.

But he always tells me how much he misses there and that he wants to go back one day, and i’m glad he finally has the chance to. I wish him all the best there and that if it is fated, we’ll meet one day again, still as best friends. 10:12PM

Where did this best friend of this go? Why did he leave Haechan? Was Haechan alright?

Endless thoughts ran through your mind as you let out another sigh, upset with yourself for not getting to know Haechan and his past when you had the opportunity to.

• 25th May 2016 •

Hyung has been gone for about three months now. And because we’re so far away, we hardly have time to communicate with one another anymore. And i don’t know what’s wrong with me, i can’t seem to befriend new people or even step out of my circle.

It’s as though i’m trapped.

I feel lonely again. I have so many things i want to say and let out but i have no one to do it to. This book’s the only way to let out my thoughts.

I’m starting to lose a little bit of hope again, and i’ve been pretty unstable lately. I hope after tonight i’ll feel better, 2:04AM

• 14th August 2016 •

Things haven’t been going smoothly and i’ve just been living life the way i’m asked to, not the way i want to, and it’s getting tiring.

But today i met someone who was willing to accept and listen to me, and she was nothing but kind to me.

Mrs Park owns a small cafe down the street, a place i always go to clear my thoughts, be it before or after school. She must have noticed my obvious deep and sad expressions, as she made the effort to ask about me and show her concern, and i am more than touched by her sweet and encouraging words.

She even offered to help me out with my studies and look after me as though i’m her own child. I’m thankful i met her.

I sense happy days coming, and i really hope that this time, i won’t fall again.

It didn’t surprise you that Mrs Park was as kind to Haechan, the same way she was to you when she noticed you.

She was the motherly figure that tried to help you out when you were at your worst, and did nothing more than just give you advice and love, which helped you out in many ways.

You were glad she had found Haechan too.

• 29th September 2017 •

I met the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen in my entire life today. And every part of me wants to be friends with her and be her pillar of support, while she was at her worst.

Mrs Park had told me about her and how she tried to help her too, but her stubborn self just wouldn’t feel better; reminds me of myself, and how i was a few years back.

I really want to help her out and i don’t want to see anyone, especially her, to go through the amount of pain and suffering i went through. I know how it feels and i just want to make her feel better.

Her flustered and embarrassed self made me have a genuine smile on my face and i have a feeling she’s going to be different. I hope i’ll be able to help her, 10:38PM

You knew who he was talking about, none other than you. You felt the tears in your eyes threatening to fall as you were touched by his words.

He was right, he helped you a whole lot, and you only got to where you were today all thanks to him.

And you wanted to share your gratefulness and gratitude towards him for the rest of your life, but…

• 26th March 2017 •

I feel bad when i see her breaking down and not being able to do anything. Seeing her cry, i wanted to cry too.

It is as though we are one. I’m able to tell when she’s not feeling the best, and i don’t hesitate to do anything for her, as long as she’s happy.

I want to be there for her when she needs someone, and i want to give her all the advice i can when she needs it, but when i’m with her, crying by my side, my mind blanks out and i’d be too shock to even say anything.

Yet she has the power to make me forget everything of the past and to not let my emotions gain control over me again, and i’m too busy taking care and looking after over her, giving her all the love to even look after myself.

Is this what love feels like?

I only want the best for her and i’m proud to say she’s come a long way from the first day i met her.

Maybe she is the one. 11:19PM

Who would have thought Haechan shared the same feelings as you? And the fact that he had put in so much thought and effort into trying to make you feel better warmed every single part of your body.

Until you continued reading, your tears falling as you were met with the last entry of the whole book.

• 2nd June 2017 •

I’m sorry but i don’t think i can do this anymore.

Two days back i’d seen dad, the first time in three years.

He looked different; much more happier than he was when he used to be with us. Full of confusion, i made my way up to him to talk to him. I had so many questions i had wanted to ask him, but as soon as he looked me in the eye, i couldn’t think straight as the memories of him and the way he treated us came back.

Then a woman, together with two other children, only a few years younger than me, made their way beside my father. Then it hit me, was he cheating behind mom’s back all along? Was this why mom was always so angry when he came back late?

Yet despite seeing my upset expression, he didn’t flinch at all. Instead, he had a smug expression on his face, one a father would never give his child. Then he shot me with the words that still hurts me up till now.

“I never once regret leaving you all.”

And on that same day, i came to realise so many things i never once did three years back, when mom left. The letter that i had kept in my drawer, left unopened, was finally opened. And all the pain and ache came back.

I’m very frustrated, and i feel like i’ve been betrayed countless times on this journey. And all these are too much for me to bear and hold on, i really think i have to let go right now.

Over the past few months, it was the best i’ve ever felt in the whole three years, and i finally met someone who could change my life. But i’ve been through so much and felt so many things i don’t think i can pull through this anymore.

I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry that the side of me that i always showed you wasn’t the side i always had. It was a front i only put up so as to help you, yet because you deserve to be happy with a smile on your face everyday, i couldn’t bring myself to show the real me or even tell you anything, afraid that it might make you lose your smile.

I know i’ve tried my best and i have no regrets making this decision. Maybe i am selfish and that i’ve always been, but i really hope my absence won’t cause any harm to anyone else. It’s been a long journey, and i can finally rest. 7:44PM

Your hands were on your face now, your muffled cries unstoppable as you tried to stop your tears, but couldn’t.

If only you had went up to his apartment that night to check if he was alright, after he stated that he was not feeling well. You still remembered how he assured you that he was alright, and just needed to rest, and that there was no need for you to go down to see him.

If only you didn’t believe those words so easily.

Your sobbing was interrupted as soon as you heard the main door from outside opening, followed by a boy’s voice, “Excuse me, is anyone there?”

Clearing your throat, you wiped your tears with the sleeves of your shirt, placing the notebook back gently, before calling out softly, “Y-Yes”

There was a pause, before you heard the voice reply back, “O-Oh.. Uh… Do you want me to leave?”

You shook your head as you quickly made your way out of Haechan’s room, met with a sight of a boy of your age, a beanie on his head as his arms were behind his back. You noticed his eyes widened at the sight of you, and the state you were in.

Flustered, his hands nervously fumbled from his back to his front pockets of his jeans, then clumsily taking out a packet of tissue, passing it to you, “I think you need this.

You faked a smile as you accepted it with both hands. Clearing your throat once again, you said out to the boy, “Who are you? Do you know Haechan?”

The boy smiled a little at your words, then bowed his head slightly, his defined cheekbones showing, “I just came back to Korea a few months back. After hearing about Haechan, that is… I’m Mark, Haechan’s high school best friend. And you are…?”

He was not bothered at the state you were in at all. “O-Oh.. I’m Y/N, Haechan’s uh… close-girlfriend.”

You could have been.

Mark’s eyes lightened up a bit, before he gave you an assuring smile, hand on your back, “Must be tough on you, i hope you stay strong though! Trust me, it will get better”

His tone full of positivity and encouragement reminded you of the first time you heard Haechan’s. You could tell from his smile that he was sincere, and for some reason, it gave you comfort.

“Why’re you here today?” you asked, after thanking him for his words.

Mark sighed, then looked around the apartment, “Just wanted to help clean up his place, the way a best friend should. I still feel bad for leaving him a few years back, to move back to Canada. Maybe if i hadn’t done that he’d still be here now…”

His face scrunching up as soon as he realised what he said, as he noticed your expression change at his last sentence. “I’m so so sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

You shook your head, as you noticed his cheeks blushing from embarrassment.

His hands rubbed the back of his neck, “Oh why didn’t i see you for the past months? I mean i come by here every week to clean up his place but i never saw you once.”

You sighed as you gave him another smile, causing him to smile back, “I couldn’t bring myself to come here… And i was at the hospital for my recovery from an accident. So…”

Mark nodded his head at your words, as he then stood up quickly, grabbing the bag from the table, then passing it to you.

“Bought some banana milk for myself to drink but i guess you need it more. I’d be more than willing to help you out anytime. I’m sure Haechan wants that too”

His words brought a smile to yourself, touched by his kindness and genuinity.

In front of you stood the boy who helped Haechan a few years back, despite of his background.

And here he was, offering to help you and make you feel better, even after only meeting you for the first day.

Who would have known someone you coincidentally met could mean so much to you in the future…