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screechthemighty · 10 months

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Me: oh this chapter is gonna be just a short little romp before we get to the emotionally heavy stuff, I'm sure it will be fine

The chapter: is not that. But it is here now! I don't think there's any big CWs this time, but let me know if you think I should tag for something!

the unknowable tomorrow | a tristamp fanfic part eight: meryl

Disclaimer: this chapter was probably/definitely subliminally inspired by "if only there was some way to ease the pain" by AO3 author SpiritusRex, since I read it before I wrote this. You should read it also if you want some Vash hurt/comfort (mostly hurt though).

She had one thing to be grateful for: the portals had been consistent about not spitting her out in front of strangers. This time, she emerged in the space between two large tents. The sun was starting to set. There were definitely people here; she could hear a lot of raised voices. It sounded like two different debates were happening in each tent to either side of her. Meryl carefully backed away. I need to find Vash. That seemed to be the one constant here, and she was sticking to it.

It didn’t take long. Almost immediately after she backed to the outskirts of the encampment, she saw something moving out of the corner of her eye. A figure stumbled away from the tents, stopping to drop to their knees once they were a good distance away. The puff of blond hair told her who it was. Meryl jogged over. Remember, you’re Claudia, you’re not Meryl, he knows who you are and you’ll just have to live with that. “Vash!” she called.

To her surprise, he flinched at the sound of his name. Dread was written across his face as he lifted his head, but it quickly turned to surprise. “Claudia?!”

His voice was hoarse. His face looked ashen green. Meryl ran faster, nearly falling over herself to reach him. “Are you okay? Are you sick?” She reached out to rest her hand against his forehead. He didn’t feel feverish. He actually felt cool, though there was still some sweat sticking to his face .

“N-no, I’m not…I don’t think so?” Vash grinned anxiously. “I just needed some air. When did you get here?”

“Not too long ago. Are you sure you’re not sick? You look awful.”

Vash’s smile slipped. “...that obvious?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

His smile faded away to nothing as his eyes dropped down to his hands (the left hand still not amputated, she noticed). “...I’ve had a headache all day,” Vash admitted quietly. “And every time I eat, I feel sick. Everyone was starting to get really annoyed and it made me feel worse, so I thought I should go..”

“Annoyed at you?”

“No. I think they forgot I was there, actually.” He glanced back up at her. “Are you okay? It seems like it’s been a rough year for everyone.”

Last time wasn’t rough? It must’ve been pretty bad to be noteworthy. “I’m hanging in there.” Meryl carefully took his hands. They were cool, too, though that alarmed her less. He had cold hands as an adult, too. He’d tormented Wolfwood with them more than once during the long car drives. “You should get some rest. Which tent is yours?”

“I don’t have one.” He pointed behind her. “Ship Three’s not that far off. We were just going to head back when the negotiations were done for the night.”

Meryl looked over her shoulder and did a double-take. She’d seen Ship Three before, but only once, and she’d been too busy worrying about Vash to really register it. Seeing it again was almost as disorienting as the time travel had been. How could something that big stay in the sky? It didn’t make any sense. “Negotiations…?”

“Supply distribution and stuff.” Vash kept holding her hand as he pulled his legs up to his chest. “They’ve been arguing a lot about the Plants lately.”

Nothing’s changed there. “They’re not dragging you into that, are they?”

“...sometimes.”

No wonder he has a headache. He’d been so skittish about being the center of attention before. That was probably worse when the stakes were higher. Meryl gave Vash a quick once-over, checking for signs as to what might be wrong. “Did you do something different with your hair?” she asked.

“...No?”

“It looks darker on the sides.”

Vash shrugged. “It’s been like that for a while. Hair gets darker when you get older sometimes.”

He wasn’t wrong, but something about it… bothered her. He didn’t seem worried, though, not even in a trying to deflect way. Maybe Independent hair worked differently. Before Meryl could ask, some shouting behind them got louder.

“... you’ve held on to two, we’re down to just the one, so don’t fucking tell me not to …!”

Meryl immediately stood up. “Come on,” she said.

Vash stood as well. He’d definitely gotten taller. “Where?”

“Somewhere that isn’t here. We won’t go far, promise.”

Vash didn’t argue. She only let go of his hand long enough to double-check that the Derringer was still loaded. Hopefully she wouldn’t need to use it; Roberto had tried to give her lessons when they were on the road, but it had gone about as well as driving lessons had gone with her dad (which was to say, frustrating and stressful for everyone involved). Vash had to step in at one point. He was a much more patient teacher. She’d actually managed to hit something once he explained it to her.

Funny; Meryl couldn’t picture this Vash holding a gun. Even as he grew taller and closer to the Vash she remembered, she just couldn’t. He was too sweet, too young. No child should be in that situation.

To be fair, neither should an adult.

Eventually, the sounds of shouting grew inaudible. They reached a large rock that was mostly flat on top and climbed it. Meryl had to help Vash up. He seemed sluggish, even beyond what you’d expect from a normal headache. “How long have you been feeling sick?” Meryl asked.

“...it’s not that bad…”

Meryl sighed. “You’re really bad at lying, you know.”

Vash pouted, but after a pause, he relented. “A little while. We’ve been on the road for a couple of weeks. A lot of Plants started going red all at once. It’s only really been bad for a few days, though.”

“When did you sleep in a real bed last?”

“Last night. I thought it would help, but…” He shrugged. “Maybe I just need another night.”

“After all that work? You’re probably going to need more time than that.”

Vash shook his head immediately. “They want me at another settlement. Actually…two different settlements. That’s what they’re fighting about. We’re probably leaving tomorrow once they decide who gets me first.”

Meryl stared at Vash in disbelief. He looked even worse in the rising moonlight. Seriously, has no one noticed? Or was he just comfortable letting his guard down around her? She sure hoped it was the latter. “Do you have to? I mean…is it an emergency?”

Vash looked confused. “They need my help. Of course I have to.”

“Yeah, but…if you’re not feeling well, you should try to get better first.” Meryl rested a hand on his shoulder. He still felt a little too cold. “What’s wrong with their Plants? Can someone else help?”

Vash’s jaw tightened stubbornly. “I’m the Independent. It has to be me.”

“They have Plant engineers, don’t they? Or…maybe you can tell them what to do without having to go there…”

“ Don’t! Don’t…” Meryl flinched away. Was he crying? She hadn’t meant to do that. “Please, don’t, I…” Vash covered his ears and curled up so tightly, she half-expected him to turn into a bulb, like the other Plants. “I don’t…”

His shoulders trembled. Meryl couldn’t take it anymore; she peeled her coat off and draped it over his shoulders. “You don’t what?” she asked gently.

Vash peered out from the tangle of his limbs. She thought his gaze landed on her arm…her still-bandaged arm. Damn it, she’d forgotten about that. His eyes met hers before she could panic too much. They were still full of tears, hesitant, afraid.

But, underneath all that, she could’ve sworn they looked trusting.

“...I don’t want to go back out there,” he whispered. “I want to go back to the ship. I’m…I’m really tired.” He retreated back into himself, his voice muffled but still audible. “But I don’t want to be selfish. They need my help.”

Selfish. He thought he was being selfish . No wonder he’d started crying. “Oh, Vash,” Meryl said. “You’re not being selfish. You didn’t want to feel like this. It’s not your fault.” She moved closer and tried resting a hand on his shoulder again. When he didn’t flinch away, she kept talking. “Think about it this way. You won’t be much good to anyone if you pass out and fall off your thomas on the way there. No one will blame you if you want to take a break. Did they say how bad it was? Are they going red?”

“...no.”

“Did any of it sound like they might be going red soon?”

“I don’t think so.”

“So…maybe we can work something else out? Something that still helps and lets you get some rest?” Meryl glanced over her shoulder. “Is Brad back with you? Maybe you can talk to him about it.”

“You don’t think he’ll be mad?”

“No. Absolutely not.” And on the off chance he was, Meryl wasn’t afraid to chew him out for it. Vash clearly needed to rest. Unless the rest of the world was going to explode without him, they couldn’t deny him that. “I’ll talk to him with you. Okay?”

Vash was quiet, aside from a slight sniffling. Meryl had to lean forward to even try and see his face, but even then it was obscured. She let him take his time. Kept rubbing his shoulder and hoping her coat was enough to get him warm again. Eventually, Vash lifted his head. The tear tracks on his face only made him look more fragile, more sick. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

Meryl’s shoulders slumped with relief. “Good.”

They sat on the rock until the night chill started really kicking in. Meryl probably would’ve kept them out there longer, just to be sure everyone had stopped fighting, but Vash noticed when she started shivering. Heading back into camp so he could trade her coat for his cloak was the only compromise they could come to. “I guess it’s a bit too small for you,” Meryl relented as she put it back on. “Seriously, when did all of this happen?”

“Past couple years.” Vash adjusted his hood, covering up more of his face. He’d managed to wipe most of the tears away, but he still looked drained. “I wish it would stop. I keep growing out of everything.”

“You can reach more shelves than I can, though.”

Vash smiled. Meryl would’ve counted that as a victory, but it fell off his face the second he saw Brad. Vash clutched her hand so tightly her fingers ached. She squeezed back anyway. I’m here. I won’t let them send you anywhere.

“Okay, we’re done here,” Brad sighed as he approached. “We can figure the travel plans out in the morning.” He did a double-take when he saw her. “Claudia, right?”

“I don’t want to go,” Vash blurted. His hand was shaking. “I’ll go if they’re dying, but if they’re not…I want to stay on the ship. Please?” Vash’s voice broke, the fear and desperation bleeding through. “Please, I’m really tired, I don’t feel good…”

“What do you mean?” Brad’s entire demeanor changed, going from fed up and exhausted to, for lack of a better way to put it, crisis management . He stepped forward and dropped to one knee to try and look at Vash. “How bad?”

Vash sank deeper into his cloak. “My head hurts. And my stomach. I…I just want to sleep.”

“Vash, let me look at you.” Vash pushed the hood off, letting Brad carefully examine his face and check his temperature. Meryl didn’t think he liked what he saw. His eyes darted to her; she nodded in response.

It’s bad. You have to take him back.

“...okay. All right.” Brad’s voice stayed calm as he stood back up. “You got a place to stay yet, Claudia?”

“No. I just got here.”

“Well, you’re welcome to come with us. We’ve got room on the ship.”

It felt more like a request than an offer, and Vash wouldn’t let go of her hand. That made the decision for her. “Sure,” Meryl said. “Thank you.”

I’m in too deep already. Might as well.

They rode back to the ship in silence. Vash still trembled. Meryl had to share a thomas with him, so she could feel it. She couldn’t tell if it was from fear or exhaustion. We just need to get him to bed. Then I can talk to Brad. He’d seemed worried, not disappointed. That had to be a good sign, right?

She could only hope.

They had to take a makeshift lift to get inside the ship. The whole situation gave her a sense of deja vu. It was just like when they’d gotten off the sand steamer; both then and now, she was entering a relic of the past, the ultimate piece of Lost Technology, and she was too worried about Vash to appreciate it.

A woman with short dark hair was waiting for them in the loading area. “Welcome back!” she called as she jogged over. “Wow, they really kept you two out there…” Her face grew concerned as she got closer. “What’s wrong?”

Vash shrank down into his cloak. Brad quickly took over the conversation: “We’re pretty wiped. Gotta get this one to bed.” He gestured back towards Meryl. “Luida, this is Claudia. The one Vash told you about.”

Oh . Now she could see it. Luida, Vash’s friend, the geoplant specialist who’d shown her the garden. She was a lot peppier here in the past. More like a cool upperclassman, not the somber and thoughtful scientist Meryl remembered. “Oh! Yes, Vash told me all about you!” She shook Meryl’s hand once she got down from the thomas. “Nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Likewise.” Meryl glanced Vash’s way. It was hard to see his face with his hood back up, but she could just make out the worried frown tugging at his lips. “Glad to see you’ve kept this place in one piece.”

“It hasn’t been easy.” Luida’s smile softened as she wrapped an arm around Vash’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

Vash didn��t say anything as the three of them escorted him through the halls of the ship. It was pretty quiet, and a lot of the lights were dim. Trying to simulate a day/night cycle when they don’t have any windows, maybe? At least no one bothered them as they walked through vaguely familiar hallways and to a specific door that she half-recognized from last time. “You rest ,” Brad said when they stopped at one door. “We’ll figure everything out tomorrow.” The door swished open; Meryl caught a glimpse of a bed, pictures on the wall, and what looked like a string of paper cranes hanging in one corner. “Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” Vash shuffled into his room, catching Meryl’s eye as he went. She smiled at him reassuringly.

I’ll talk to them. We’ll work this out. I promise.

“See you tomorrow,” she said aloud, and desperately hoped that wouldn’t end up being a lie.

Vash hesitated. She didn’t see him smile, but his voice was more steady when he replied: “See you.”

The door closed behind him. Luida opened her mouth to say something, but Brad shook his head and gestured down the hall. It wasn’t until they were a good distance away that he stopped and turned to Meryl. “What happened? Tell me exactly .”

Meryl hesitated, scrambling to gather her thoughts. She wanted to tell him the truth, of course, but she also wanted to preserve Vash’s privacy. He’d been so scared to admit anything to her . He probably never would’ve told Brad or Luida if she hadn’t encouraged him to. “I got in late,” she said, “and while I was trying to find my way around, I saw him leaving. I was hoping to find you guys anyway, so I went to say hello. He didn’t look good, and when I asked him he said he had a headache and that eating made him feel sick. He mentioned a lot of Plants have been sick lately, so I thought maybe it was all the traveling and work. I told him he should talk to you about it.”

Brad kept his hands on his hips and his gaze on the floor, his jaw tense. Luida looked back the way they’d come, visibly worried. “Did this just happen?” she asked. “He seemed fine yesterday.”

“He said it’s been bad for a few days. I don’t know how bad, though.”

“Bad enough,” Brad said. “Vash never complains about anything. It’d have to be bad for him to say something.” He sighed. “I knew I should’ve put my foot down.”

Luida rested a hand on his shoulder. “Brad, it’s not your fault. He never said.”

“Well, common sense says we shouldn’t be crossing the Sand Sea every five days because these idiots can’t wipe their own asses - “ He took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Meryl said. “I’ve heard worse.” Driving for hours on end with Roberto and Wolfwood had introduced her to some very interesting sentences. “ Are those Plants in serious danger?”

“Didn’t sound like it to me, but I’m not an expert. I only agreed to take a look because they wouldn’t shut up about it, and Vash usually wants to take a look. You don’t think he should go?”

“Absolutely not. Not unless he has to. He might’ve acted like everything was fine before, but I don’t think it is.”

“Hmm. Just don’t know why he didn’t say anything sooner…”

Because he’s scared to say no. Because he thinks all of this is his responsibility. But that fell into the category of things Vash had said in confidence, and the partial theory she had for why was definitely not something Meryl wanted to share. She couldn’t say anything directly about it, but… she couldn’t not bring it up at all. Not if she wanted to keep this from happening again. “You should probably talk to him about that,” Meryl said carefully. Hopefully, they’d get the hint.

From the look on Brad and Luida’s faces, they did. “We’ll do it tomorrow,” Luida said, “when we sort everything else out. For now, I think we all could use some sleep. There’s some empty rooms this way, Claudia.”

But I just woke up, Meryl thought. It had been early in the morning when she’d gone through the last portal, and now it was late at night. She wasn’t tired at all . But she had to act normal, so Meryl just smiled and thanked them for the space. She could use the alone time to plan her next move.

The room was small, furnished only with a bed, a small table, and two stools. It did have a private bathroom with a shower, though apparently they were timed. Meryl settled for wiping the worst of the sand off and checking that her burn hadn’t gotten infected before sitting at the table to start sorting through her notes. There was a lot to consider. She’d probably need another one eventually, but she could make it work for now.

Meryl started by re-reading everything and looking for patterns. The incident with Vash as a baby aside, she was showing up whenever he needed help. Pulling him out of Ship Five’s wreckage. Staying with him when he needed company and saving him during the sand storm. Helping him advocate for himself when he couldn’t, or wouldn’t. But why?

He might not know what he’s doing , Meryl thought. He’d clearly been in distress when the portals had opened in July. Maybe it had been…instinct? A moment of pain and fear driving him to seek help, any help, and then accidentally sending her to other times and places he’d needed it? Did he mean to bring me? The portals had been calling to her. And…one other name. Her memories of the incident were still scrambled by panic, but she was pretty sure it had started with an N.

…it couldn’t be the Undertaker, right?

Meryl flipped back to the one page of information she had on him. Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Said he was a professional undertaker, but he was a little too good at killing things with that way-too-big gun of his. Roberto had remained convinced he was an assassin of some kind the entire trip, regardless of what Wolfwood or Vash said. It had struck Meryl as funny at the time that Roberto could worry about Wolfwood being a hired killer, yet still chew him out for stealing cigarettes and bar him from passenger seat privileges when Wolfwood wouldn’t keep his feet off the dashboard.

It was a lot less funny in light of what they’d learned in July.

Nicholas the Punisher. He, too, is one of my creations.

Meryl’s jaw tensed as she wrote a new sentence on the page: He works for Millions Knives. Theory: they wanted trust? Not that it mattered; he’d put sureir lives at risk either way it to July. It would explain a lot about Wolfwood’s behavior: his insistence on going with, his refusal to give real answers about his past or his profession, the whole incident with the worm…shit, had he been trying to kill her and Roberto? Two less people to worry about? Or had it just been a ploy to gain their group in the first place.

That asshole. She wished she’d kicked him harder. Or that she hadn’t let him weasel his way into their group in the first place.

Meryl flipped away from the page with a sigh. No, she must have misheard. Vash didn’t have any reason to ask for Wolfwood’s help. He could be a little too forgiving, a little too open-minded, but this was a different level entirely. On the very low chance Wolfwood had fallen through, she could always punch him if she saw him again. Right now, she had to worry about Vash.

What does he need? Rest, mostly. Someone to encourage him it was okay to rest. He seemed to trust her; he seemed to trust Brad, too, but had a harder time telling the man how he felt. Brad was more like his boss; she was the more experienced but also more approachable colleague you went to when you didn’t want to bother the boss.

So, I need to help him along. Make sure he says how he’s really feeling. And if she could figure out why he was so painfully eager to please, all the better. She couldn’t be sure, not without more evidence, but her gut said it had something to do with Millions Knives.

A lot of Vash’s troubles seemed to go back to him.

She spent most of the night organizing her notes. When she did sleep, it wasn’t for long. Meryl was woken up by the lights slowly turning back on, a simulated sunrise accompanied by the real thing outside. When she looked out the window, could see the tent camp off in the distance from there.

They stopped getting in contact with people at some point. She wondered why. Best guess, those negotiations over resources were only going to get worse. Luida had talked about how important her flora research was, and with the number of Plants they had, Ship Three was a walking target for bandits.

How can you make a decision like that? To turn your back on everyone, even if it’s for the greater good? She shivered slightly and turned away from the window. At least I don’t have to make a decision that big. For all the confusing ups and downs of this situation, she only had to worry about herself and Vash.

Someone knocked on the door not long after she’d gotten redressed. It was Luida with a tray of food and a friendly smile. “Good morning,” she said. “I got you breakfast. Do you have a minute to talk?”

“I do if there’s food.” Waking up had only made her empty stomach re-assert itself. “Is Vash up?”

“No, we decided to let him sleep in.” Luida set the tray down on the table and sat down in the stool opposite Meryl’s. “Brad and Vash told me about how you looked after him a few years back. Thank you so much for that. I know it meant a lot to him.”

A few years. Meryl wondered if there was a pattern there, too, but held off on writing it down for now. People might start asking questions if she wrote down every little detail she thought was important. “It was no trouble. He’s a good kid, really.”

“Even when he’s running out into sandstorms?” Luida said with a slight laugh. The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, though, and Meryl understood why. That incident was looking a lot more worrying in light of what Vash had told her last night.

“No one’s perfect,” Meryl replied. “He did mean well, though.”

“That’s our Vash.” Luida rested her chin on her hand and sighed. “We’re going to tell him he doesn’t have to go. I’m just worried he might need to be convinced. Brad thinks if one or both of us volunteer to go instead of him, that might help, but we’ll need someone to make sure he doesn’t try to leave or keep working while he’s here. Can you do that?”

Meryl nodded immediately. “Yes. Absolutely.” That’s got to be why I’m here. “I think that will help convince him, too. He really trusts you two. If you say it’s okay, that will mean a lot to him.”

Luida hummed quietly. Her eyes had grown distant, regretful. “He does so much for us,” she said quietly. “Maybe we’re asking too much of him. It’s easy to forget, he’s just a kid.”

It was strange; that was all Meryl could see when she looked at him. Maybe it was because she’d known him more as an adult. The differences were so stark to her eyes–the half-formed mannerisms, the change in voice and face, all of it. She could see how he’d seem mature in the right situations, like when he was talking to the Plant engineers, but at the end of the day…

He’s just a kid with too much responsibility. But aren’t all of the kids of No Man’s Land like that? She knew the horror stories of humanity’s near collapse. Everyone did. She’d been lucky to be born into a generation that had structure, government, towns; every generation before her had faced worse and worse.

No one stays a kid for long in this place.

“I’m more worried that he tried to hide it from me,” Luida continued. “I really thought he was fine, but if he wasn’t…” She glanced Meryl’s way. “Yes or no, is that…something else I should talk to him about?”

Meryl nodded. It was the closest to an answer that she was willing to give. Luida only looked more mournful. “All right.”

Hopefully this wouldn’t all be too overwhelming for poor Vash. Meryl also hoped he wouldn’t be angry with her for saying something to them. He played his cards close to the chest in the future, too; she just hadn’t expected him to have developed that habit so early.

Maybe helping him break out of that is why I’m here, too.

Meryl tried to fill in the morose silence by asking Luida what she did on the ship. Luida immediately launched into an explanation of how geoplants worked. Meryl had never seen one in person before she’d come to Ship Three the first time; she only knew they existed, that they were mostly owned by city governments or food production companies, and that they were kept on a tight leash. Geoplants were incredibly valuable, even more so than water Plants. The only people who could hold onto them long-term were the people who could afford to protect them.

Or a flying ship in the middle of a sandstorm.

“So, trying to use them on the planet's surface is the long-term goal?” Meryl asked as she finished off her tea.

“That’s the idea. It’s…been on the back burner a bit. There’s a lot of fires to put out. I really wish I had more time to dedicate to it, but it is what it is, you know? Especially since we lost so many Plant engineers. I’m having to learn a lot more than I bargained for.”

Meryl’s next round of questions was cut off by someone knocking on the door. Brad had arrived. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m not sure how long I can hold off those engineers,” he said. “We should talk to Vash before they start beating down the door.”

Is it really that bad?! He couldn’ve been joking, but Meryl decided it wasn’t worth taking the risk.

Vash didn’t answer the door when they knocked. Brad ended up having to unlock it and enter. The door shut, muffling any conversation between them to the point that she couldn’t hear it. Brad’s jaw was tense again when he rejoined them. Meryl caught a glimpse of Vash before the doors closed again. She thought she saw glowing around his eyes and cheeks, but couldn’t get a good enough look to confirm it. If Brad had seen anything, he didn’t say.

Maybe I was just imagining it.

“He said he’ll be right out,” Brad said.

“Is he okay?” Meryl asked.

“Still sounds pretty wiped. He’ll probably want to sleep again once we’re done. Might be a boring day for you. Or you’ll spend all day chasing him down and throwing him back in there.”

“I hope not. He’s too tall for that.”

“With the shape he’s in, you could probably knock him over with a paper fan.”

That was fair. And more than a little worrying.

Vash emerged wearing a sweater that was definitely too big for him, with the sleeves pulled down over his hands. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all. That didn't stop him from trying to smile. “What are we talking about?” he said.

“Food first.”

“It’s okay. I’m not hungry.”

Luida looked immediately, visibly worried. Meryl remembered the days after Rollo’s death and tried really hard to control her own spike of fear. Remember to make sure he eats, too. Even if it wasn’t much. “All right,” Brad said.”Mind if we all come in?”

It felt so awkward , crowding into Vash’s room like they were holding an intervention. Meryl tried to stay close to him without being too close. He sat cross-legged on the foot of his unmade bed and clasped his hands in his lap. “Look, it doesn’t sound to me like either of those Plants are going anywhere,” Brad said bluntly. “I can tell you what’s wrong, but from where I’m standing, they’re just not producing fast enough for them. Seeing as you look like you’re about to fall over…”

“I’m fine, really. I slept pretty good. I think I’ll be okay.”

Brad stared at Vash blankly. Luida jumped in: “I know you want to help, but I don’t know if I want you going out there. How do you really feel? Please be honest.”

Vash hesitated. He looked between them, then back to Meryl. She nodded encouragingly. “...I’m still tired,” he said quietly. “My head hurts. I…I don’t know…”

“If no one was asking you to leave, what would you want to do right now?”

“...sleep more…”

Luida nodded. “Then you should sleep. If you tell us what to try, we can go and fix it for you. How does that sound?”

Vash kept his gaze fixed on his hands. “It’s my job,” he said quietly. “You shouldn’t have to do it for me.”

“That’s how it works on a team. Remember when I got that lung infection and everyone else took over helping the geoplant? Including you? Or when Brad twisted his ankle and had to use crutches?”

“Brad kept trying to work when he twisted his ankle.”

Brad scowled. “Yeah, and you people kept stopping me,” he said. “I’m returning the favor. How long have you felt like this? Don’t lie to me.” Vash drew his knees up to his chest and didn’t say anything. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Nothing.

Meryl sat next to him and held out her hand. Vash took it without hesitation, his hand still wrapped in the sleeve. “It’s okay,” she whispered.

Vash let his face drop, his forehead resting against his knees. His hand squeezed hers tightly. “I didn’t…want you to be disappointed,” he said. “I didn’t want you to think I was being selfish.”

To their credit, Brad and Luida looked horrified in their own ways–Brad flinching, Luida being more visibly upset. “Oh, no, no, we wouldn’t do that. Hey…”

“I want to help, I do, I promise.”

“We know that, Vash. We’re not angry, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Not angry at you ,” Brad amended.

“Are you sure?” Vash asked.

“Completely positive.” Luida paused, only speaking again when Vash stayed silent. “So, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll tell you what they told us, then you can tell us what to try and we’ll go fix things. And we’ll only send someone back for you if it’s really bad. Sound good?”

“...okay,” Vash whispered. Meryl thought she heard him sniff before he lifted his head, but his face and eyes were dry when he looked up. “Sounds good.” He still didn’t sound thrilled, but at least he wasn’t insisting on going. “Are you staying?” he asked her suddenly.

Meryl nodded. “I can stay on the ship with you until they get back,” she said. “And you can show me those fossils you were talking about. After you get some sleep.” However much he’d slept the night before, clearly it hadn’t been enough.

And he can’t try to run off if he’s asleep.

Vash stayed lethargic as he looked over the symptoms Brad had been given and started writing down solutions. The lethargy didn’t stop him from fretting, though. Meryl got a little worried when he got up to follow them to the door. “...and double-check the lines, I know the sand can clog them up really badly…”

“You said that already,” Luida said gently.

“It’s important. They don’t like that.”

“We’ll double-check, I promise .” She tousled his hair. “This is a big help. I think we’ll be able to get this fixed in no time. We’ll contact you once we know they’re safe, okay?”

“Promise?”

“We promise. Right, Brad?”

Brad grunted, but it seemed like an affirmative grunt. “ Bed ,” he added sternly. “And if you try to sneak after us, Claudia’s gonna tell us.”

Meryl crossed her arms. You don’t have to make me sound like such a tattletale , she thought, but kept it to herself for now. No sense in starting a stupid fight when Vash still looked so guilt stricken. “We’ll see you when we get back,” Luida said.

“Please be careful.”

“We will.”

He still stared after them as they walked down the hall. Meryl kept one hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?” she asked. “If you show me where the cafeteria is, I can get you something to eat.”

“No,” Vash said. He drooped the longer he stood there, shoulders hunching, head lowering. “I should…probably sleep.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“...will you stay with me?”

“Of course.”

Once back in his room, Meryl pulled a chair up next to Vash’s bed as he crawled back under the covers. More things popped out to her as she looked around: the small shelf with a few books, his traveling bag tossed into a corner, the fact that the bathroom door seemed to be manual and had been left propped open a bit. “Do you want me to read to you or something?” No response. “Vash?”

When Meryl looked down at him, Vash was fully enveloped in the blankets, with only a tuft of hair visible. She had to lean close to hear how slow his breathing had become. Already asleep , she thought. Good.

Though that did leave her with nothing to do until he woke up. Nothing to do except be mildly nosy.

It was the pictures that drew her attention the most. They were all carefully arranged on the wall above Vash’s bed. Him with Luida, one with Brad (who did not look thrilled to be photographed), lots of him with other members of the crew. One picture was carefully taped in the center: a child Meryl recognized as Vash, another near-identical child but with paler hair angled the opposite way, and a woman standing between them. Dark hair, light eyes, a kind face.

Millions Knives , she guessed, looking at the other child. And…Rem? That has to be Rem. The woman Vash had cried for in the wake of the crash. She must not have survived. She would have been there if she had.

It’s not fair that you’ve been through this much.

Meryl’s gaze fixed on Millions Knives. He looked so normal. He would’ve been the same age as Vash when the Fall happened, the same age when he caused it, but she didn’t see a killer in that picture. There was no sign of the cold-eyed, knife-yielding monster from July; he was just a child, like his brother. Maybe a little more reserved, but that didn’t mean anything negative.

What changed?

She opened her notebook and flipped back to another section. The information she had about Millions Knives was even more sparse than what she had about Wolfwood. There was plenty about what he’d been doing, but his motivations were still a mystery. He hated humans and wanted to turn No Man’s Land into a paradise for Plants, but…from the look of it, he’d been raised by a human, at least for a little while. Vash didn’t hate humans. So…what happened? Had it only happened to one of them, or had they reacted to the same event differently?

How much does it matter? It doesn’t excuse what he was doing to Vash. Meryl shuddered at the memory. Who does that to their own family?

She moved her chair a little closer to Vash’s bed. He slept on, oblivious.

Meryl just hoped the sleep was actually restful.

She was just starting to get hungry when Vash suddenly sat up in bed, eyes wide. “Wh…” He looked around. His hair was a mess , practically sticking straight up, and he looked confused. “Claudia?”

“Hey, Vash. Are you okay?”

He blinked and looked around the room before rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Eleven-ish?” Meryl smiled sympathetically. “Same year, if that helps.”

Vash actually laughed slightly. “Oh. Good.” He stared down at his hands, glanced her way, and relaxed. “Sorry. I didn’t think I’d sleep that long.”

“Clearly you needed it. Do you feel better?” Vash leaned over to let her touch his forehead. He felt normal again; a bit warm, actually, but probably from the layers of clothes and blankets.

“A little.” He rubbed his eyes slowly. “I think I need something to drink. Maybe eat? I can’t tell.”

“What if we split something? Would that work?”

“I think so.” He stood up carefully. His first few steps were hesitant, then a bit more confident when he didn’t fall over. Meryl left her hat in Vash’s room as she followed him out; she had no way of knowing who on Ship Three might recognize her in the future, and she wanted to change her outfit up at least a little.

Like that will help much. Maybe she should’ve held onto the clothes from last time after all.

People weren’t quite so fixated on Vash here, Meryl noticed. The few groups they did walk past gave him a friendly wave, but there was none of the same intensely curious looks that he was getting the last time she saw him. It meant they were able to get to the cafeteria and grab something without much fuss. “Food’s not much different on here than it is out there,” Meryl noticed.

“Yeah, they’ve been trying to keep the food-generating Plants to a minimum,” Vash said. “A lot of them have been reprogrammed to help with the Geoplant.” Vash stopped so suddenly that Meryl almost ran into him. “Do you want to see it?”

“What?”

“Our geoplant.”

She already had, of course, but she wouldn’t say no to seeing it again. “Sure!”

The good news was, she didn’t have to fake being amazed. The sight of all the flora in the area was just as beautiful as it was the first time she’d seen it. “This is what Luida is working on, right?” she said.

“Uh-huh. She loves it in here.” Vash boldly stepped into a stretch of green, low-growing flora. Meryl followed carefully. It didn’t seem to hurt the flora, whatever it was. “I used to spend a lot of time in the one on Ship Five.” Vash walked forward, stopped, moved forward a little time. He kept his gaze fixed on the ground as he moved. “Our tree was in a different place. It made it easier to find…”

He trailed off. “Find…what?” Meryl asked.

Vash moved to the right, then up, before setting his food tray down and fully lying down on his side, cheek pressed to the green flora, like he was listening for something. When he didn’t get up, Meryl joined him, lying down in the same way. She thought she could feel vibrating, but that could’ve been the ship moving. She thought she could feel it sometimes in her room, too, whenever she held still.

“What are we listening for?” Meryl asked finally.

Vash’s eyes stayed defocused, before suddenly fixing on hers. They looked so vividly blue, it caught Meryl off guard. “The Plant. There’s always one at the center. They make the ground fertile. Help the flora grow. They sound different from other Plants.” His hand gently gripped the flora underneath him. “It’s nice.”

Meryl closed her eyes. “I don’t think I can feel it this time,” she admitted.

“They’re down pretty deep.” Vash was sitting up when she opened her eyes. “I could always hear our little more clearly through the tree.” He stared down at the tray of food, then started carefully diving it in half with a spork. They’d ended up getting two full portions, but at this rate, Meryl was pretty sure she could eat what Vash didn’t. Time travel did a lot for your appetite, and after weeks on the road, she was grateful for any meal she didn’t have to eat in the car. “Thank you. For staying and helping.”

“Yeah, of course.” Meryl dusted some of the flora off her face as she sat up and started on her full portion. “I’m glad I could help.”

“...I’m sorry about your arm.”

He didn’t look at her as he said it. Meryl wasn’t sure how to respond at first. Play dumb? Ignore the comment entirely? “It’s…” She cleared her throat. “It’s not your fault. It’s already healed. I don’t even notice it.”

That wasn’t entirely true. It had done a lot of healing during her last stretch of days with Vash, but it was still bright red underneath the bandage, and still got irritated if she moved her arm the wrong way. She was pretty sure it was going to leave a scar, and she knew that if he could see it, he’d be able to tell.

He knows already, though. Your arm is still bandaged. He’s not dumb enough to think it’s a new wound. He just hasn’t asked directly. Maybe because it was too unbelievable for him to ask directly about it. Trust me, Vash, this is weird for me, too.

“I’m still sorry. I wish I could fix people, too.” He started eating, careful and slow bites, like he was testing his stomach. “I could’ve helped.”

Meryl was suddenly very grateful Vash’s abilities didn’t work on people. He’d probably have worn himself out a lot sooner if they did. “It could’ve been a lot worse,” she said reassuringly. “I still have all my fingers and everything. Some people aren’t that lucky.” You won’t be. Or maybe you will. She still wasn’t sure about the timeline of his limb loss. As much as she wanted to think that she’d prevented it, she knew she couldn’t be sure. “You shouldn’t worry too much if it can heal on its own.”

“...are you talking about your arm or about the Plants?”

“Both, I guess. And I do mean it.” Her own first bites of food were a lot less cautious. While the actual substance of the meals wasn’t too dissimilar from what they’d eaten outside, everything did seem a lot fresher. “You should be worried about…I dunno. Do you have school here?”

“They’re going to have to eventually, for the other kids. I just read on my own.” Vash poked at the last full portion left before pushing it in her direction. “I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He lay back down, curling up on his side and closing his eyes. “I’m sure.”

He was out cold by the time Meryl finished her full portion and started on what was left of the shared tray.

Do I wake him up? She looked around. There were still people moving around the space, but no one had told them to get off the flora. It was probably fine. She hoped so, at least. She finished eating, set the trays down, and lay down on her back to look up at the ceiling.

I don’t think that’s our sky , she realized. The clouds above her were pure white, not the pale tan of a distant sandstorm or the faint green of floating worms. She’d seen clouds in picture books; they were apparently only on planets where it rained. If it did rain in No Man’s Land, she’d never seen it.

This is someone else’s sky. A sky that, if the Beast was to be believed, belonged to a long-dead planet.

Meryl wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Staring up at the fake sky became a bit too existential for her pretty quickly. Meryl sat up and tried entertaining herself by surveying all the flora she could see without moving too far away from Vash. She was pretty sure she saw lettuce coming up out of the dirt in bunches. There were potatoes nearby, too; she knew them by the flowers, purple with five petals and a yellow center. They were pretty much the only vegetable she knew of that could grow outside of a geoplant, if you knew what you were doing.

I wonder if the geoplants look this nice on the surface.

Meryl wasn’t sure how much time passed with her counting the flora she recognized, giving her own names to the ones she didn’t, and actively fighting the urge to grab some tomatoes (they grew on tendrils as it turned out, a lot like the ones Vash started in July but green) before Vash moved. She saw him roll over out of the corner of her eye; when she glanced his way, his eyes were open, staring up at the false sky. “Looks like rain,” he said when he noticed her staring.

“What?”

Vash sat up suddenly. “Oh, shoot, the - !”

Water started shooting out of the ground before he could finish the thought. Meryl shrieked and scrambled back towards the path. Vash followed, but he was laughing. “What’s that?! ” Meryl said.

“Sprinklers!” Vash tripped over his own feet as they got back onto the path, barely catching himself on Meryl’s shoulder. “For all the flora!”

“You didn’t tell me it was going to do that! ”

“I didn’t know they were going to go off today!” He was still smiling when they finally got to dry ground. “They won’t go for long. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s…” Meryl glanced down at herself. “I mean, I guess I don’t have to shower now…”

Vash started laughing harder, too hard to even apologize. Meryl probably should’ve been more miffed that the laughter was at her expense, but honestly?

She was just glad to see him smiling.

“They think these things used to be bigger?! ”

“That’s the theory.” Vash carefully turned the fossil over. The imprint of the long-dead worm had the build of a juvenile, but was about as big as a fully-grown one. “You really don’t like them, huh?”

“ No .” Meryl shuddered. “They make my skin feel all crawly. One laid eggs in my bed and they hatched while I was sleeping.”

Vash shuddered, but laughed. “Yeah, that’s pretty gross.”

“It was so gross! We had to throw the whole bed out! Ugh .” She still had nightmares about that sometimes. All the little legs were the worst part. “The fossil is cool, don’t get me wrong. I’m just glad they’re not that size anymore.”

“Except the grand worms.”

“Except them. But they’re not as bad.” Not as bad on the outside, anyway. Meryl suppressed a gag. “Whose idea was it to try eating them?”

“The thomases ate the corpses without dying, so someone figured it was probably safe. Worked out, though. The more worms we eat, the less we have to rely on Plants to make food.” Some more worry bled into Vash’s face. He’d gone back to being quiet and worried in the time it took them to find Meryl a change of clothes after the sprinkler incident. He’d managed to eat half his dinner, which was good, but it was obvious the worry was starting to sink back in. “One of them should’ve gotten to camp by now.”

“That’s good. That means they’ll be able to work on the Plant.”

“...I guess.”

Meryl wasn’t sure what to do. She was sure she could only reassure Vash so many times before the words lost all meaning. Her gaze wandered to the paper cranes hanging in the corner. “You’ve gotten good at those,” she said. “Are you trying for a wish?”

“A little.” Vash glanced at her and smiled slightly. “I did get one wish, so I didn’t have to wait long.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“I wanted to see you again.”

…oh.

“I’m glad I got to see you again, too,” Meryl said. “I know you’ve got people looking after you, but I worried.” Not for long , but worry was worry. “And you’re the only one who doesn't complain when I ask a lot of questions.”

“You ask good questions, though.” Vash stood carefully to put the fossils back. He seemed a lot more steady on his feet now, but the way he’d traded the oversized sweater for one of his makeshift sleeveless tops emphasized how gangly he was. “Do you want me to finish Alice in Wonderland? I didn’t get the chance last time.”

“I’d love that.” It would definitely be better than Vash fretting, and she was curious about how it ended. She sat down at the foot of the bed while Vash sat with his back to the wall and opened the book.

He didn’t get far. Meryl had been waiting for him to crash again, and it wasn’t long before he was trailing off mid-sentence. He didn’t seem aware of how far gone he was until Meryl took the book from him. “Get some sleep,” she said gently. “I’ll be right here.”

Vash didn’t curl up so tightly this time, and he didn’t hide his face. Meryl waited until she was sure he was asleep before she slipped out of the room. She came back later with a blanket and pillow. Sleeping propped up against the foot of Vash’s bed probably wouldn’t be the most comfortable position in the world. All it took was the memory of that tank in July to make the potential back pain feel tolerable.

You have to comfort him while you can. You don’t know what’s going to happen when you get back.

The thought kept her up a little longer, watching Vash sleep. Some of the color had come back to his cheeks. If she tilted her head just right, she thought she could see a faint glow underneath.

Hopefully, that was just her imagination. Or it was a good sign.

The next day was mostly uneventful.

Vash slept in again. He ate a little more at breakfast than he had at dinner, then a little bit more at lunch. He was more energetic, but a lot of that energy was funneled into being worried. He wore it all over his face. Fortunately, Meryl had a few options to distract him. There was a lot on Ship Three that she hadn’t gotten to see the first time…including a piano.

“Do you play?” Vash asked as he sat down, just slightly off-center.

Meryl shook her head. “I did percussion for a school band,” she admitted, “but mostly it was because we were all required to do an instrument and percussion was out of the way. Do you?”

“It’s been a little while.” Vash’s hands hovered over the keyboard. They seemed to instinctively go to one place on the keys; she saw his eyes dart to the right, his shoulders slumping slightly as he moved to the center of the bench. “I’ve been trying to get back into it, but we’ve been busy lately, so…” His fingers traced off a few strings of notes, like he was warming up. “What kind of music do you like?”

“I’m not picky. What do you like?”

Vash thought about it, hesitating for a second before suddenly switching to an actual song. The notes were bouncy, cheerful. For some reason, the tune brought to mind speed-walking across campus, back when studying still felt exciting. Vash fumbled the notes a few times, but he always seemed to fold his mistakes back into the song, as if he’d meant to do that the whole time. “This is just one of the piano solos,” he explained suddenly. “It’s supposed to be for a whole orchestra. It doesn’t really sound the same with just one person.”

As if he were trying to erase what he’d just said, he started playing even louder. The mental image of hustle and bustle grew stronger. Just as it seemed like he was getting in the flow of it, Vash fumbled a few notes in a row. The mistake turned into a string of frustrated-sounding notes before he suddenly stopped playing, hands resting on the keys, shoulders shaking as he hunched over. “Vash?” Meryl asked, alarmed. Who do I get if he’s getting worse? A doctor? One of the Plant engineers? She hadn’t even thought to ask. Fortunately, when she sat next to him at the piano, he didn’t look worse. He looked…

Meryl froze at the look on his face. She’d only seen it once, when E.G. the Mine was terrorizing Jeneora Rock. Jaw set, eyes sharp and fixed, body tense and ready for a fight. It sent a shiver down her spine even now. “We thought I couldn’t do anything at first,” Vash said quietly. “We thought that I was…” He trailed off, but Meryl could fill in that blank. Useless. “And now I can finally do something and I’m just sitting here. ” The piano keys yelped in protest as Vash rested his elbows on them and buried his face in his hands. “I hate this.”

“I’m sorry.” Meryl carefully squeezed his shoulder. When Vash didn’t look up, she turned her attention to the keys. She really had no idea how to play. She’d barely paid attention when she’d been forced into percussion. All she could do was carefully pick at the notes, one after the other, until she found something that… seemed like the first note of Vash’s tune. Her hunt for the next note was an immediate failure. Attempt two was a little better. She hummed it to herself, trying to remember how it went so she could guess at what came next. It didn’t work; the next attempt sounded terrible.

Great job. That’s really going to comfort him, I’m sure.

“Here,” Vash said suddenly. He moved her hand over carefully before mirroring the position a little further down the piano. “Like this.”

His hand moved slowly over the keys. Meryl did her best to imitate the movement. The result sounded a lot more like actual music, even if the tempo was slower. After a first pass, they started over, playing a bit faster this time, something more recognizable as Vash’s song. By the third loop, Meryl really felt like she was starting to get the hang of it.

Vash must have thought so too, because on a fourth loop, he started using both hands, adding onto the tune with his left hand. Meryl did her best to keep her part going. When they played it like this, it felt like a conversation.

Meryl risked glancing at Vash. His shoulders had relaxed; he wasn’t smiling, but he did look much calmer. He played with his eyes closed, his hands seeming to move based on muscle memory and sound alone. The song came so naturally to him, even more so than the one before had.

Maybe this is like a conversation. Maybe it always had been…or an attempt at one, perhaps?

Of course, that was when Meryl’s hand slipped. She fumbled to recover the notes, but she’d lost her place. Meryl felt her face go red as she snatched her hand away from the keys. “Sorry,” she said.

“Don’t apologize.” Vash wound down his part. When he looked at her, he was finally smiling. “That was really good.”

Was it really? Meryl bit the question back. Vash looked relaxed, a bit happier. It may not have been perfect, but it was something. Besides, I don’t think I can really talk like that when I’m trying to get him to go easier on himself. I’m pretty sure that’d be hypocritical.

Vash started playing the first song again, humming an accompanying tune as he did. It wasn’t an orchestra, but there was still something captivating about it. “What’s this one called?” Meryl asked.

“ Rhapsody in Blue ,” Vash said. “It’s Old Earth. Really old, but…someone decided to remember it.” His hands skipped across the keys. “I just think that’s kind of beautiful.”

Meryl thought about how long really old might be, how far away Earth was from the ball of dust they called home. How one song managed to make it all that distance, despite everything. “You’re right,” she said. “That is beautiful.”

Even if she never got to hear it with a full orchestra, it was still beautiful.

Vash insisted that he’d be fine sleeping alone that night. Meryl might’ve been more suspicious, but he did look genuinely worn out, maybe too worn out to try for an escape. She still planned on waking up as early as possible, just to be sure. She fumbled with the clock in her room until she figured out how to set an alarm before passing out herself.

Her dreams were strange and vague. She was standing out in the desert. She was lying in the sand, staring up at the sky–except no, that was Vash, and Brad was shaking his shoulder, trying to wake him up. The sky overhead was full of stars. Sometimes, when she blinked, there was someone else there, gently touching Vash’s face. The dark-haired woman from the photo. Rem.

You take yourself too lightly, Rem said.

Meryl woke up to the sound of the alarm going off. She smacked it into silence and rolled over to stare up at the ceiling.

That was weird , she thought. There wasn’t time to think about it–she had to get up and make sure Vash hadn’t wandered off–but she made a mental note to write it all down later. Two dreams in a row has to mean something, right?

Meryl made her way down the hall to Vash’s room. Her first set of knocks didn’t get a reply. She waited, then knocked again. Then a third time. It was only then that she took Vash up on his permission to open the door if he wasn’t answering. “Vash?” she said, peering into the room. “Everything okay?”

The bed was empty.

The image of the rumpled covers and completely Vash-less space took a second to sink in. The panic once it did was instantaneous.

Calm down! Calm down. Meryl darted into the room and started looking for any signs he might have left. He didn’t leave a note and didn’t even bother trying to hide that he’d left, both of which seemed odd to her. His cloak was still hanging up in his small closet, and his bag was still slumped into a corner. The bathroom door was still cracked open, and there was no one inside when she looked.

Okay. Look at the evidence. He didn’t take anything he’d need and he didn’t try to cover his tracks, so he probably hasn’t left the ship. He was pretty tired last night, but if he’s feeling better, maybe he…got hungry? Wanted to work out? Does he do that now? Or maybe he couldn’t sleep so he went someplace he’d be more comfortable. That meant…the Geoplant, maybe. He’d seemed so calm there. Or maybe the Plant room in general?

Start there. Maybe someone’s seen him.

Meryl didn’t have to go far to find someone, which was good because she was already lost. “Excuse me?” she said weakly. The person, a man only a little older than her, did a double-take when he saw her. “Hi, I’m Clauida. I’m supposed to be looking after Vash while Luida and Brad are gone, but he’s not in his room. I was thinking he might be in the Geoplant…?”

The man frowned slightly. “Geoplant’s usually locked up for another half-hour. Essential personnel only. I know he gets more access to the Plant room, but…” He thought for a moment. “...I think I know where else he might be.”

The man, who introduced himself as Ben, led her through the halls to a more isolated part of the ship. He opened the door to one room in particular and peered inside. “Yep,” he said, backing away, “found him.”

Meryl stepped inside. Sure enough, there was Vash, curled up on the floor against one of the walls, wrapped in his blanket. She crouched next to him and gently rested a hand on his shoulder. He stirred slightly, but didn’t wake up. “ Thank you ,” she sighed with relief. “What’s he doing in here?”

“Dunno. He just comes in here sometimes. He doing okay?”

“Bit under the weather, but I think he’s getting better.”

“...huh. Didn’t know he could get sick.” Ben shrugged. “Well, if you’ve got this…”

“I do. Thanks again.”

Meryl looked around the room as Ben walked away. The space was entirely unfurnished aside from a sort of window seat, with a cracked door that looked like it led to another bathroom. There was a cluster of tally marks near the door…no, there were tally marks on almost every wall. Lots of them. Someone had carved a grid into the wall, too, but that was the only outlier. Meryl suddenly felt very nervous. It looked like a jail cell.

Was this a jail cell?

She shook Vash’s shoulder more vigorously. He finally made a noise, grumbling slightly as he pulled the blanket over his head. “ Vash ,” she said, “c’mon, you can’t sleep on the floor.”

“Mmwh…?” One blue eye peeked out from the blanket and focused on her. There was a pause before Vash sat up, his face tomato red. “ I am so sorry .”

Meryl couldn’t hold back a startled laugh at the sight. “You’d better be! You scared the shit out of me for a second!” Aside from the deepness of his blush, Vash looked pretty normal that day. Normal skin tone, not clammy or pale. “What are you doing in here?”

“It’s…” Vash looked around. She thought his gaze lingered on the bathroom door for a few heartbeats, but it was just short enough that she couldn’t be sure. “...quiet. Back here. I needed the quiet.”

That sounded evasive. “You needed quiet so you went into…what, the ship prison? ”

“...yes.”

They stared at each other for a second. Meryl decided to put that one on the back burner for now and stood up. “How’s your back?”

Vash got up more carefully. “I’ll let you know after I’ve walked around a bit. I really am sorry. I thought…” He paused, then his blush deepend. “No, I didn’t. Think. I really didn’t think.”

It took a lot of effort not to laugh at the sentence. “Happens to the best of us,” she said. “You still tired?”

“Actually, I’m kind of hungry?” He seemed surprised. “What time is it? Are they serving breakfast?”

They were, and he ate almost everything on his own. He slowed down as the meal went on, but it was a big improvement. “Do you think one of them will be back today?” Vash asked.

“How far did you say it was?”

“One day for the first camp, about a day and a half for the other one. Assuming they make good time and there’s not a storm or anything. If it’s really not that serious, then it may not have taken long to fix the Plant, so maybe…” Vash’s knee bobbed up and down in an anxious rhythm the more he thought about it. “...maybe one of them will be back today?”

“Hopefully!” That sounded like a grueling travel schedule, though. Meryl was relieved all over again that they’d been able to convince Vash to stay. “Too bad there’s no way to check.” She was pretty sure July wouldn’t get the satellite back up for a few more years. Of course, now that I’m actually in history, I forget everything I learned about it.

“They’re trying to work on that. There’s just been other stuff going on.” Vash pushed what was left her way; it wasn’t much, but she took it anyway. It was bad enough that she was taking from them; she didn’t want to waste anything. Vash seemed deep in thought as she ate, his fingers drumming anxiously against the table.

“C-cent for your thoughts?” Meryl said. Vash stared at her as if he didn’t understand a word she’d said. Did they have c-cents yet? Did they have… any money? Everything she’d seen had seemed communal so far. “Er…I mean…everything okay?”

Vash stared at her a bit longer before shaking his head slightly. “I just kind of wish I could…go back to sleep and wake up when this is over,” he admitted. “I know that’s not how it works, but I wish it was.”

“Yeah,” Meryl sighed. “I know what you mean.”

It was a little worrying to hear from someone so young, but Meryl really did know what he meant. She couldn’t help him sleep until his problems went away, but maybe there was something else they could try. “Do you think there’s anything we can do around the ship?” she suggested. “Something easy? It might help the time go faster.”

There was a job board, as it turned out. They needed an extra set of hands in the Geoplant helping to harvest some of the flora. Meryl kept an eye on the artificial sky as they moved around the space, watching for the dark clouds that seemed to warn of the sprinklers turning on. A few times, she saw Vash simply sitting in place, carefully holding a flower in one hand, or staring off towards the center of the Geoplant. Every time she got closer to see if he was okay, he’d smile at her a bit too wide and keep working.

Meryl had a feeling talking wasn’t going to happen, so instead, she stayed close. She asked him about the Flora. When he started humming, she hummed with him.

It seemed to help, or at least she hoped it did.

They stopped for lunch. They played piano for a little while. Vash took another nap while Meryl tended to her burn and tried to organize her notes. He really sprawled out this time, sleeping on his stomach, arms wrapped around his pillow, one foot poking out from the covers.

Meryl thought about the dream she’d had the other night, and the dream she had when she’d visited Vash the first time. She thought about attempting a nap herself, but she was too awake. Her mind kept spinning over everything she’d been seeing. The routines of Ship Three, the slowly developing culture within it, all the answers she’d been craving when she was there in the future but never received. She had no time to nap, especially when she didn’t know when she’d see Vash next. It seemed to be a pattern of every few years, but if that held, with how old he was…

How old am I going to be when I get back?

Meryl stopped writing.

I’ve already aged a week, right? Longer?

She considered the thought, shuddered, and went back to writing. Let’s not think about that now. Or ever. Never thinking about it also works. As long as she wasn’t so much older that someone would notice.

I really have no idea how I’m going to explain this one.

She was more or less finished with her notes when Vash woke up suddenly. He looked around the room, his hair falling into his face. He looked disoriented until he saw her. “...same year?” he asked.

Meryl smiled. “Yeah. Same year.” For you, anyway.

Vash breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed his eyes. “I was dreaming that I was outside,” he said. “It felt…really real. Like when you dream that it’s morning but then you wake up again?”

“I know what you mean.” It happened to her all the time in college. “You’re here now. It’s close to dinner, actually. Do you think you’re up for it?”

Vash nodded. “That’s good, right? That I’m hungry?”

“Definitely!” Meryl’s smile widened as she watched Vash get out of bed. He was steady on his feet. She couldn’t feel what he was feeling, of course, but he seemed so much better. If she had to guess, he’d be completely back to normal by the time both Brad and Luida returned. “Come on. Let’s see what shape the meat patties are tonight.”

Vash laughed. “Like cloud watching. But you get to eat them.”

“I guess so.” Meryl didn’t really know what that was, but she had a feeling saying so would look weird. “Come on.”

They were making their way to the cafeteria when Meryl heard someone calling Vash’s name. Not just someone– Luida. Turning around only confirmed it. Vash’s face lit up when he saw her. “Hey, you look better!” Luida said.

Vash ran right to her and almost tackled her in a hug. “Was she okay?” he asked.

“She was,” Luida said as she hugged him back. “Just a little sluggish. Once we got the temperature regulator fixed and reset, she was back to normal.” She pulled away from the hug to look at Vash. “You really do look better. Have you been eating?”

“We were just going to get dinner, actually. Do you want to come?”

“Dinner sounds amazing.” Luida looked past Vash to Meryl and mouthed thank you at her. Meryl nodded in response.

Least I could do.

Vash ate all of his dinner and was visibly more relaxed. He still asked about Brad–Luida was confident hend people from the ship if I could, but…’d be back tomorrow, assuming everything went well–but it looked like he was fretting a lot less. Meryl’s feeling that the situation had turned around was confirmed when Luida mentioned the encampment was breaking down the next day. “If you have anywhere you need to be,” she said, “you should probably head out with them. Not that we’re trying to get rid of you, but I don’t want you traveling alone. I’d se”

“No, no, I know you guys have a lot going on.” Besides, I think this is my out. “I think that will work. I’m just glad I got to see everyone.”

“It was really nice to meet you,” Luida agreed. “And of course, there’s always a place for you on the ship if you need one.”

“That’s a really kind offer, but…I have some things to take care of.” Namely, the other person sitting across from her. Maybe only a little further down the line; maybe a lot further. She didn’t know, but she was going to find out soon. “But I’ll make my way back if I can.”

That was almost guaranteed at this point.

Vash didn’t want to say much about that, but stuck a little closer to her the rest of the evening, just like he had the last time. Meryl ended up staying with him until he fell asleep, not by request, but just to be sure he was all right. She was hesitant to leave once he had fallen asleep. She knew she should rest herself–she didn’t know what she’d be facing when she stepped on the other side of the portal–but she didn’t leave him without saying goodbye.

I can’t leave him without saying goodbye.

“Just let me have tomorrow morning if you can?” she whispered.

Meryl didn’t hear a reply. But there wasn’t a portal waiting for her when she finally went to her bedroom, and she woke up the next morning to the same room she’d fallen asleep in. Being relieved that she was still in the past was definitely odd, but she was.

Vash and Luida both saw her off the next morning. Vash kept his face half-buried in his blanket, but that couldn’t hide the slight sad look in his eyes. He hugged her tightly; he had to lean over a bit to do it now. “Stay safe,” he said quietly.

“You, too. Promise me you’ll rest if you need it again.”

“I promise.”

“And I’ll see you later, okay?” Vash nodded into her shoulder. “I will.”

He’d be a little bit taller, a little bit older. She’d be exactly the same. They’d have to talk about that one day, but not today. Today, Meryl got onto the lift back down to the ground and watched as Vash and Luida vanished above her.

She didn’t even make it back to the encampment before she heard her name being whispered. The tear in reality cut through a space behind some rocks, sheltered from view. Meryl took one last glance at Ship Three before stepping through.

I hope I’ve done enough here.

#trigun #tristamp #fic: the unknowable tomorrow

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clonemando · 3 years

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Had a bad day and am stressed out so I wrote some Father/Son Jaster and Jango hurt comfort to make me feel a little better. Please enjoy!

Jango hasn't been eating like he should after hearing rations are low and Jaster isn't pleased to find out.

Jango smiled as he sat next to one of the foundlings being looked after by the Ha'at after the last campaign and offered them a second bowl of tiingilar. "Shh, just a secret between us." He said with a wink at them when their expression lit up amd he took the empty bowl in exchange. Jaster couldn't know he had been giving his portions away or he'd be furious but Jango knew what it was like to be new and hungry and too scared to ask for food. Especially when their rations were as low as they were at current. Death Watch was targeting any settlement that traded with Haat they could find and it was leading more and more to turn them away and refuse to trade with them. That with all the crop burning and more foundlings being left behind with no where else to go meant slim pickings for food. Jango was older than most of the others. He was used to missing meals while out on the field with Jaster. Plus the less he ate the easier it got to ignore the slight pains of hunger that would occasionally pop up. It was fine. He wasn't starving himself. He still ate midmeal. He just only at midmeal and whatever snacks Jaster occasionally would share with him.

He got up and walked around to another new kid and snuck them a ration bar that was supposed to he for his breakfast. They smiled at him in thanks and he nodded back before heading to turn in the empty dish.

"You finished that off fast Alor'ika! We should enter you in a competition." Bari said with a bright grin that showed off some fangs she had inherited through mixed genetics. She looked mostly human but so did most Mandalorians, years of adopting any species or race into their own had played with all of their DNA in weird ways. Jango himself was certainly some sort of mash of things as well but it's never really mattered since he was human enough.

"I guess the mission earlier just really had me hungry. I'm all filled up now though. Delicious as I expect from the best cook in the camp." he said kindly but she just raised a brow.

"You really are Jaster's ad with a tongue that smooth Alor'ika. Speaking of which, I haven't seen your buir yet. Take him his portion for me? He's probably still going over those maps." She asked handing him another full bowl and Jango nodded.

"Of course. Honestly how he got anything done before I was here to remind him life exists is a mystery." He chuckled and headed back towards his father's room getting nods from a few verd as he passed them. He felt good about his position. He wasn't cocky enough to think he was special or anything like that but he hot along easily with the other Haat'ade and most seemed to think he belonged with Jaster. It felt nice to be wanted and to have other people confirm his place with them. Even if he didn't become Mand'alor after Jaster, he'd always belong there.

"Buir! Bari sent me with your food. You get lost in that romance novel again?" He asked teasingly as he set the bowl down on Jaster's desk after clearing some space.

Jaster jumped a little in his chair glasses askew on his face before he relaxed at the sight of his son. "I actually think I fell asleep after calling a few more friends to make sure Tor hasn't bothered them." He admitted ruffling Jango's hair fondly and picking up the bowl and sniffling the stew inside.

"Mmm. This smells great. Bari really is a miracle on this whole operation. Only she could manage Tiingilar on such a meager budget." He chuckled and Jango nodded.

"Yeah. It's great! She's an amazing cook." He said clearing his throat when his stomach growled at him to cover the sound.

Jaster took a few bites while Jango looked over the list of numbers Jaster had been going through.

"Hmmm, something about this tastes different." He said after a while and Jango hummed absently.

"She said earlier that she ran out of the normal spice paste she used and started using Clan Rook's stuff instead." Jango said surprised when Jaster choked on his bite causing him to pat Jaster's back.

"Clan Rook's? Are you sure? And you ate it?" Jaster asked eyes fluttering over Jango with concern.

"Of course! It's not like I'm going to turn down Tiingilar! What are you scared Clan Rook is out to poison me or something?" Jango asked playfully though he was trying to understand what had Jaster so upset.

"Jango... Clan Rook uses vash nut powder in their spice mix." He pointed out and Jango winced. Right. Of course they did. And he just happened to be extremely allergic to that particular nut.

"Well... I... Actually wasn't that hungry tonight and didn't want to worry you. I'm sorry Buir. I shouldn't have lied about it. I'm fine though. It's a good thing too it seems since it saved us me swelling up and needing to go to medical." He tried to joke but Jaster was staring at him with a considering gaze now that made him uncomfortable.

"Well you still have your breakfast rations right? You can have that tonight and I'll talk to Bari and make sure there's no more surprises like that again." He offered and Jango reached into the empty pocket head ducking.

"I... uh... I don't have my breakfast ration anymore buir." He said letting his hair fall forward to hide his eyes feeling heat burning his face in shame.

"What happened to it? Did you drop it?" Jaster asked and Jango cleared his throat as his stomach growled again but this time there was no hiding it.

"I'm really not hungry Buir! Really. I'm fine." Jango said knowing he couldn't lie and especially not to Jaster.

"Jango, what's going on? Why aren't you eating? Are you feeling sick?" Jaster asked setting his bowl aside to feel Jango's forehead but Jango pushed his hand aside.

"No... I just... gave it to the foundlings. They need it more. Many are too nervous to speak up and rations are low right now. I don't mind. When things pick up again I'll eat more. I promise." he admitted quietly.

"Jango... why didn't you say anything? You... How many meals have you been skipping? How long?" Jaster asked looking concerned.

"I've been giving away my breakfast rations and late meal. I still eat with you obviously. It's enough. I'm used to it. It doesn't even hurt anymore." He said quickly then regretted it.

"Anymore?! It doesn't hurt anymore? Oh no. No no no. Come on." Jaster stood and grabbed his arm gently but firm enough he couldn't jerk it away easily and started dragging him out of the room.

"Buir! Buir wait! You're overreacting! It's really fine! Some of the verd were even impressed by how good I'm looking!" He said and Jaster almost growled.

"Looks don't matter! None of that matters! You haven't been eating Jango! You're a child! If anyone should he cutting portions it would be the adults and even that there are ways to manage it so we all take turns so no one misses meals the way you have. If you had just said something I could have been giving you extra breakfast rations to give to the others if they're too nervous to ask. You shouldn't have been starving yourself! Do you have any idea how it feels to hear you talking like this? Like you deserve to eat less for some reason? You're my son and I've failed you by not even noticing you were doing this to yourself. I thought maybe the weight loss was because of a growth spurt coming on. I never had an ad before but you... You've been hurting yourself. We're going to medical. They're going to run tests and we're going to figure out how badly you've thrown your diet out of whack. Hopefully not too badly. Then we're eating every meal together until I'm certain I can trust you again." Jaster ranted and Jango just stared at the floor fighting tears. He had just wanted to help.

Jaster took a deep breath and let it out. "Jango, ner ad, you are a good boy with a good heart. But you matter just as much as the new foundlings, you know that right?" he asked more gently as he knelt and tipped Jango's face back up.

"Of course I do. But I'm going to be a leader one day and I have to make sure that our people are all taken care of first. You would have done the same thing!" He argued feeling the tears start to spill down his cheeks and hating it. Being eleven sucked.

Jaster wiped the tears away with his thumb. "Jango, if that was true why am I still eating normally? We have plenty of food Jango. Yes it's a little tight, but nothing to where you need to skip out on everything besides midmeal. And I'm your leader. So, again, it would be me or the other adults, who would be responsible for figuring out how to ration. Which we would need you to be honest about how much you need to eat to be able to do. You're my son. I love you and want you to be living a happy healthy life. Something not hurting anymore, is not a sign of you being happy and healthy. It should never hurt to begin with. You're not in trouble. I'm not mad. I'm scared and upset with myself for not noticing and fixing this sooner." He murmured more calmly and Jango wrapped him in an embrace he eagerly returned.

"Do you promise to actually eat all the meals I give you and tell me if you or anyone else needs extra from now on?" Jaster asked and Jango nodded from where his face was tucked into Jaster's shoulder.

"Good. Then let's get you examined and then I think we both deserve a treat tonight. After you eat a proper latemeal." He said firmly but lifted Jango up and carried him to medical.

#star wars #jango fett #jaster mereel #fanfic #star wars open seasons #young Jango #tw food scarcity #Jaster is a good dad #Jango is a good son #Being at war is hard

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dreaminpeaches · 3 years

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New Paracosm AU: Big Hero Beau

@decaykid yes, kind of...

Okay, like I said in my last post this idea came to me after listening to Fist Pump and Viva Namida on loop with pacing.

So you know like how the original Humble Pie paracosm is very western horror kind of drama, yeah? well, this paracosm is just full on ANIME BBY!!! I'm talking Space Dandy, I'm talkin' Gurren Lagann, I'm talkin maybe a little bit of Trigun, and also takes alot from action rpgs like Bayonetta, Devil May Cry, Persona, Viewitful Joe, and Wonderful 101 (but its like only two people), and takes alot from Sonic the hedgehog (mostly Sonic Underground, Sonic Adventure 2, and Sonic Forces), and little bit from Fancy Pants ( that's not an anime or a "real" video game, its just an old flash game I used to hyperfixate on).

This paracosm is completely different which is why I gave it, it's own name instead of just adjective then "!"

This version of Beau takes a lot of inspiration from Dandy ( Space Dandy), Vash The Stampede (Trigun), Sonic The Hedgehog (Sonic The Hedgehog), and Kamina (Gurren Langann)

In this paracosm, both of Beau's parents perished in a tragic accident, Beau takes his siblings to an abandoned shack and they hide out and live out there. the tragedy this motivative Beau to become stronger and a hero, not only to keep his siblings safe but others too. The last thing his mom told him was that his smile could save a thousand lives, so because of that he always keeps an upbeat, go get 'em attitude, and he doesn't want to bum his younger siblings out. His mom also gave Beau her heart shape locket before she passed on, so Beau has worn it ever since that day.

The locket is very precious to him, he doesn't let anyone touch it (other than his siblings), and if he loses it he'll go into a panic attack and can't do anything else until he finds it again.

Dev, Beau's little brother, also wants to be strong and a hero, he tries to train like his brother but he can't keep up. Beau tells Dev that he has to be strong in his own way, so Dev decides to put his tech skills to good use and make his older brother cool weapons for him to use. I forgot to mention in this paracosm some people are born with superpowers and such, and Beau's superpowers are super strength and speed, while Dev's superpower is super intelligence.

Dev can't keep up with his brother on foot, so he made himself a jetpack to keep up, and makes science weapons for himself to use.

In this paracosm, there are evil robots, pirates, bandits, ninjas, demons, fallen angels, giant spiders, bad guys who kidnap pretty people, any enemy you would find in a video game or anime yeah it's probably here. So, there's always something for Beau and Dev to fight or someone to save from something.

Beau and Dev don't have secret identities since superpowered people are common but they get to have a pretty rad transformation scene activate when they fist bump each other.

Beau fighting style is similar to that of a hack and slack fighting game, Beau mostly use his fists to fight and his speed, he'll also use guns too, but he'll only use swords if he thinks he can pull off a cool move, since not really experience using them that much. Dev made Beau special gloves and boots that make the attack range of his hit larger so its easier to take out hoards of stuff like robots (which happens lot) and big enemies like giant monsters.

His boots are also guns so its like....

Oh, and Beau also makes sure that he always looks cool when fighting just in case someone takes a pic (which happens alot). Unlike Bayonetta, Beau is more playful with his posing rather than sexy.

Dev's wits come in handy when the two come across puzzles, riddles, or finding a way out of traps on their adventures since Beau didn't complete school once his parents passed and mostly focus on raising his siblings and hero training.

Much like Sonic, Beau is very snarky and witty while fighting his enemies (or at least tries to be), he always tries to make a snarky comment or a really cool zinger before finishing off his enemy. Due to his kind of being not the sharpest tool in the shed, it can take a while for him to come up with a good zinger, so it kind of stalls fights, and sometimes it gets to the point where the enemy is just like "Oh my GOD! just KILL ME!", this also annoys and embarrasses Dev too at times.

Beau makes money from bounties and doing odd jobs around, he makes enough for his siblings to live comfortably, but there are times where he'll go hungry because he only has enough for Dev and Carrie to eat. Beau is still a kind of a lower-level hero compare to the other well know ones around.

Dev has also made a rocket ship so they can fight intergalactically on other planets

Carrie in this paracosm is still 4 years old, she has yet to show any signs of having powers, which is pretty normal for her age since people in this world don't show powers until they hit their pre-teen years.

Beau will take Carrie on their adventures if it's safe enough, but if the mission is too dangerous Beau will take her to the nearest daycare or the nearest trustworthy femme person. Beau will try to make the mission or fight end quickly as possible if he left Carrie with a stranger, there's a sigh of relief once he finds her safe, if not (which doesn't happen a lot thankfully), well somebody gonna die and Beau tries to make it up to her by spending the next few days with her, just him and Carrie.

Beau tries to put being a good guardian/older brother before being a hero and tries his best to spend as much time with Carrie and Dev as possible on chiller/lower stakes days.

Beau had never had time to really process the feeling of losing his parents, there are days where he feels down but he never lets it show around his siblings or have it affect his hero work. There are nights where those memories keep him up, sometimes he'll cry but still try to smile thru the tears.

Beau likes to give peps talks to himself in the mirror, and pep talks to Dev, when he's feeling discouraged, although most of the time those pep talks don't really make any sense Dev still appreciate his brother's kind words.

Since Beau saves people, he interacts a lot with damsels in distress, he flirts with them, but usually gets rejected for coming across as too cheesy or cocky. He doesn't really mind it tho, he actually finds it funny, but when a lady actually flirts back he gets really flustered and has to leave immediately. Despite this Beau still tries to give Dev advice on talking to girls.

Beau still smokes and drinks because the stress of having to raise young siblings, dealing with trauma, and being a hero can be alot, but he still makes sure his siblings don't see him and he doesn't get too wasted.

Other than hero stuff, Hero! Beau enjoys reading comics, parkour, skateboarding, break dancing (which he incorporates in his fighting for some really cool finishers), practicing cool poses and phrases, playing video games with his little brother, and watching barbie movies with his little sisters (since Barbie reminds him of his mom).

Oof, I think that's all I got for now....

TL;DL Basically if this version of Beau is Sonic the original Beau is more like Shadow if that makes any sense.

#paraportal #new paracosm #paracosm #paracosm: big hero beau #para: hero! beau #I still have yet to figure out how Bonnie fits into this paracosm #their dynamic is gonna be more of a 'two stupid dorks' kind of dynamic #I dont think this paracosm could get anymore anime than this #maybe I'll make bonnie a magical girl #idk would that be too much

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calliecat93 · 3 years

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ST: TNG S6 Watchthrough Episodes 6-9

True Q: After a complete absence last season, Q is back! So why’s he there this time? A young woman named Amanda is on the ship... and it turns out that she has the same powers that the Q Continuum has. Q is there (no meniton of where Vash is though…) to take her to the Continuum, but Amanda doesn’t want to go. She’s happy with her life and she doesn’t want it or her future plans to be taken away from her. It feels like they decided to do a remake of Hide and Q, the one where Q gave Riker Q-like powers. While it is one of S1’s better episodes, I don’t particularly care for that one for a few reasons. This one I felt was an improvement. Amanda’s a really nice girl, I mean her intro has her summon up puppies! She’s struggling with her powers especially when Q makes her realize the extent of it and how she can do literally anything. Under Q’s guidance, she begins to actually enjoy it… but Q is really trying to push her away from being human. She comes close to crossing the line when she tries to make Riker fall in love with her, even using mind-control… but realizes how bad it feels and decides that she doesn’t like being an all-powerful being who forces herself on others. I love how aghast Q is that a Q can have human feelings and want to use their powers to do actual good for others. Honestly I’m confused on why they don’t bring up Amanda using her power to just make herself. We know that the Q’s can do so form Deja Q, so how come that possibility enver comes up. I think I’d have liked that better than Amanda finally agreeing to go at the end. Though to be fair she does so after realizing the greater good that she can do with her power after saving a dying planet and has clearly not at all lost her humanity/compassion. She’s gonna give the Continumm one Hell of a time, huh? But yeah, it was good. It’s not Q’s best appearance, certainly one of his more serious protrayals and kind of reminds me why I hate him. But also why I love him cause he’s just so freakin’ fun, John de Lancie is utterly fantastic in the role, and his amorality really adds so much more depth to the show. When he shows up, you know that you’re gonna get something interesting. After not having him at all last season, this was very much welcomed~ 4/5.

Rascals: We have a de-aged episode folks! Picard, Ro, Guinan, and Keiko have all been turned into young children. They’re not happy about it. Picard cause it undermines his captaincy, Ro because her childhood was traumatic to put it lightly, Keiko because it major complicates things with her husband and child, and Guinan… no actually, Guinan just has fun with it XD Now de-aging episodes can either be really fun or really annoying depending on how it’s done. My favorite one is the one in Justice League Unlimited, which did a good balance between having fun with the concept and still telling a good coherent story with a major heartbreaking line at the end that shows that being a kid again wasn’t fun for everyone. How did TNG do? Honestly IDK why they included Keiko in this. Don’t get me wrong I like Keiko… but it feels like they only included her to do some really cringy humor on how a grown woman got de-aged and is now married to an adult man. Thankfully O'Brien is a good man who’s as uncomfortable with it as I am and doesn’t do anything that he shouldn’t, but still, the show was it really necessary? Aside from that, it was fine. I feel like they’re trying to tell a serious story as per usual… and I think that was the wrong approach. That JLU episode I mentioned did play parts of it seriously, but it also recognized how absurd the whole premise was and rolled with it. There are entertaining bits, like a kid!Picard acting like… well Picard is pretty dang funny, but I just don’t feel like they struck a good balance between the seriousness and just having fun with it. It outright makes the adults all getting overtaken by the Ferengi outright embarrassing, not funny or scary. Like I said though it does have fun moments. I like how Guinan just wanted to have fun while a kid again and manage to get Ro to finally give in and have some form of a happy childhood that she didn’t get to have before. A bunch of children, including the non-de-aged ones like Alexander, outwitting a bunch of Ferengi was also hilarious, especially Picard faking being Riker’s son. Riker’s face when Picard hugged him was amazing. The kid actors were also really good, especially Guinan’s actress. But otherwise, it just kinda feels like they couldn’t decide on a tone and as such while it has its entertaining bits, it feels confused on what kind of episode it wants to be. It’s harmless and another one of those episodes that I’d say adult fans can watch with their kids, but it’s certainly not one of their best efforts. 2/5.

A Fistful of Datas: We got us a Western episode! Hooray~! The crew has some time off and Worf gets forced to agrees to undergo a Wild West Holodeck program with Alexander with Troi also joining in. Too bad that they chose that day to link Data to the ship’s computers and a power surge causes a malfunction n both Data and the computers! Oops. So yeah, the ship/Data is having issues while our trio is trapped in the Holodeck with Data’s image replacing the characters. You know how I just complained that the last episode couldn’t decide between seriousness or comedic and thus they clashed? Not an issue this time! This one was just complete and utter fun~! Even when it gets serious this was just great! The Western heme, Troi being a Western fangirl, them making Brent Spiner play a billion roles again, it is just a blast! Heck just having Worf in this role where he’s clearly dreading everything, then has fun with it (at least until Alexander gets kidnapped/the Data thing) I'm just so nice haha! I can’t think of much else to say but another fun Holodeck episode! Now if only they could stop malfunctioning every time they use it… 4/5.

The Quality of Life: So we have a scientist and these cute little robots called Exocoms. They are made to make repairs but one unexpectedly shuts down just before the terminal explodes. Upon investigating, Data begins to believe and later decides that the Exocoms have gained sentience, and are therefore living beings. This is the closest thing that we’ve gotten since The Measure of a Man, and I really like it! I loved Data here... I mean I always love Data but he was so freakin’ good here. He chooses to advocate for the Exocoms, even when it reaches a point where Picard and Geordi’s lives are in danger, and sacrificing the Exocoms is the only available option. While he knows that he’s accepting of letting them die and very much doesn’t want to, how can he sacrifice one species of life for another? Lifeforms who are very much like him, machines made by humans but unlike him who has people like Picard to advocate for his rights, they had no one. The episode doesn’t ignore the moral questions here and really raises some good questions about life, what counts as being alive, and where we draw the line when deciding between lives. I also loved Data and Crusher’s interactions in this one and him going to her when questioning how to define life. While Indo believes that Pulaski wasn’t as bad as others, her interactions with Data were just bad but Crusher comes off as so much more compassionate and understanding towards him. It just really shows why Crusher is the CMO that this show needed, sorry Pulaski. The Exocoms are really cute and while I won’t give away the ending, they truly are heroes. This was the kind of Data episode that the show needed, and they delivered pretty dang well I’d say~! 4.5/5.

#st watchthrough

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celestialholz · 4 years

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Star Trek: Picard. MON CAPITAINE, HE’S BAAAACK. <3

Well, I am a British idiot without a decent proxy, but it’s Friday and therefore Captain Picard Day officially for my good self, so... about time we got with the damn times and DID SOME REVIEWIN’, mes amis. Spoilers abound, naturally. I’m going blow-by-blow, but also elaborating on some lovely things here and there. Jean-Luc Picard means a lot to me personally, I write about him a lot for those who may not know me, and I’ve been SO excited for this - but does it measure up? Spoiler warning: oh yeah. Hellllll yeah.

Warning: Many crudely-drawn hearts incoming. None of them are mechanical, sadly.

- Okay, first thing: this show is GORGEOUS. Oh my god, seriously. CBS knew they were running a potential gold mine here and spent the damn money to prove it. That sweeping into the Enterprise? The credits? Boston? Jesus, my eyes haven’t been treated so well since Avengers: Endgame. It’s a damn Michelin-starred FEAST. It strikes precisely the right balance of feeling gloriously alive and futuristic whilst having the vineyard be oh-so-current, and thus retro for the era. 1701 out of ten, boys. <3

- Data. Picard. Poker. My soul aches. This immediate rich banter is just... *pinch emoji* Ten Forward, man. TEN FORWARD.

- Give me the dog. Just give me him. I love Will, super stoked to see him again, but THIS is my new Number One. Shaped like a goddamn friend.

- Boston, huh? Jesus. Immediate action, immediate knowledge without any knowledge at all of who this chick is. Great writing. <3

- Credits! Already said they’re visually lovely, but the music is also surprisingly effective. Has this contrast of giving us quaint vibes mixed with 24th century tech; the real message of this show, laid out right there.

- Romulans! In the vineyard! Picard said alien rights! Love him. <3 This whole thing feels so very him - he can’t ever quite be stagnant, even back home. He’s out here being forward-thinking and socially progressive as fuck.

- He has a found family again. Of course he does. God, you can truly tell Patrick Stewart exec-produced this. <3

- Decaf earl grey. “You’re getting old, Johnny.” (Don’t drink decaf earl grey if you can help it, guys. It’s fucking terrible. I’m sure he knows this. Bless him.)

- Journalist? She’s going to be an arse, isn’t she?

- ... Oh yeah. And a prejudiced one, too! Lovely. /end British sarcasm I love that layering of this against “Romulan lives -” “Lives.” This new universe feels so deliciously alive at every turn; visually, socially, culturally... this is the vibe I WANTED from a sequel. Beautiful. <3

- Picard, here, in this scene. Just dear GOD. This is why this character is so enduring - he’s kind, warm, soulful, deeply intelligent, principled as all hell, and he’s become so embittered by this horrendous miscarriage of justice... the utopia’s failing, folks, and it’s a delight. Patrick sells the absolute shit out of this whole thing like the absolute asset he’s always been to this franchise, and just the CARE that has gone into his portrayal? I’m in love. Just give me fucking ALL of it. He feels so very him whilst also being richer and a touch bolder and christ, all these things Patrick’s said about loving Picard and wanting to portray him faithfully shine here so very clearly. Flawless. <333333

- Oh, and all of that, but also THROWBACK THURSDAY. <3 These flashbacks will murder me, I’m certain of it. Retro and new in perfect harmony.

- Oh, here’s the kid! And hang on, an intriguing quote... “You just wave your hand and it all goes away”? Can we just... step back and think about what that’s a reference to, because fuck, dude, I MAY JUST HAVE TO WATCH TAPESTRY AGAIN. (Hardly a chore, let’s be real. I’m a Q stan, leave me be. It’s likely not a reference of course, but for the love of the Continuum, give me De Lancie. This shit already can’t improve so far, just LET IT IMPROVE ANYWAY.)

- This interview-on-a-random-screen thing is great, too; I love the dichotomy of it. Picard’s out here being principled and wonderful, solely for our eyes and the girl’s. It’s literally background info at this point and it’s a lovely little aside to how Picard’s just been here the whole time, abiding by what he believes in without any real fuss.

- ... That lovely little vineyard confrontation. Yes, yes, yes. Dad vibes without being a dad. I so didn’t want him to be a dad, it’s so painfully out of character, and I’m so glad they went with ‘lovely old uncle’ instead. <3 This whole scene just again pitches Picard amazingly.

- Can I have that firepit, Jean-Luc? Thanks, Captain.

- ... Hold the entire galaxy’s collection of phones: IS THIS CHICK LAL?! How the hell would that even work?! Bro...

- This nostalgia suite thing in the archives? Incredible. The banner? He hated that shit, we all know this, but it meant something to him deep down, that those children had his respect and admiration, that he felt so inspiring to others... how very telling that it’s one of the things he chose to keep. <3 Parallels not-Lal and this whole mini-arc thing wonderfully.

- ... Is her name supposed to sound like Vash’s? Is that a coincidence? Anyway, she’s not Lal, which makes much more sense, but she is... Data’s daughter? When the sodding hell did that happen? Oh, I really don’t care, honestly. It’s beautiful. All these Data flashbacks continue to kill me, and just for the love of it, let’s chuck some Captain in there, uniform and all! Gaaah. Who gave Patrick Stewart the right to still be this attractive, good lord above. Brent out here absolutely nailing this naive joy we loved so much back in the day, too... <333

- That chat about Dajh (possibly? The sweet and misguided android chick, giving me major Amanda Rogers vibes - I was too excited to look up the spelling, do forgive me) and her connection to Data, and what it means to Picard? Lovely. Absolutely adorable.

- ... And we come to my only minor gripe with all of this joy - why in the name of all positrons was Dajh introduced and then more or less immediately blown to tiny android pieces? Can’t help but feel the potential she had was wasted. I understand that we needed a Picard catalyst to get him back in the game, but I feel as though she’d have done that whilst still being alive. Although, I’m not going to be too harsh on it... “I haven’t been living, I’ve been waiting to die” is a thousand percent the quote of 2020 twenty-three days in and I just about screamed. I’ve got Tapestry vibes again, my god. This man is such a legend. <333333

- I was becoming rather invested in dear Dajh, though, and I know we have her identical twin elsewhere (more on that shortly) but that’s sort of like giving me Lore and expecting me to be fine without Data. Speaking of which...

- B-4. In a drawer. Near a door? Well, probably about thirty metres away from one. Love it. And a Maddox namedrop at the same time as something of an explanation! Actually really enjoyed this tie-in to old lore (pun fully intended, folks) whilst being coherent in its own right. God, I’d love to see a non-Trekkie watch this, they’d be so fucking baffled...

- Okay, even with all I’ve said about the visuals, that segway from neuron necklace to space was spectacular. I’m never going to need an eye test again. <3

- Nice guy Romulan. Awww. Someone hug his awkward soul. Dajh’s twin looks immediately less interesting (as evidenced by the fact I’ve forgotten her name - it definitely starts with ‘S’) but I’m definitely reserving judgement for now, I’m sure she’ll be as great as the rest of this show.

- ... That’s a cube, isn’t it?

- IT’S A CUBE. WITH ROMULANS. WHO AREN’T ASSIMILATED. Did they steal it? How the hell did they steal it? Do they have an alliance? What the fuck is happening? Picard did not sign back up two minutes ago for this shit guys!

... Well, basically, tl;dr? Modern, socially developed, stunning; retro in flawless contrast, with an even richer and more nuanced main character than ever who still feels so very himself, which is all I ever wanted. Fucking fantastic. Is it Friday again yet? Can your esteemed reviewer hit up a proxy next week and not die in anticipation of whatever the shit that ending was being perhaps explained a little more?

To be continued...

#celestial reviews picard #star trek picard #star trek picard spoilers #tng is BACK boys #fucking loved it <333 #picard #star trek

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thebeauregardbros · 5 years

Text

== About the Mun

– one / NAME / ALIAS. Will ✨ I also go by “ENSHOKU” on the Smule app and WillofRose a bunch of other places. My best friend nicknamed me “x50 skeleton death lord″ on fb messenger lmao

– two / BIRTHDAY. 01/27/1996 🎂

– three / ZODIAC SIGN. Aquarius ♒ / Wood Boar 🐖

– four / HEIGHT. 5′8″ (173cm) I like to wear high heels though, pumping me up to around 6′~6′2″! 👠

– five / HOBBIES. Shoe customization and light sewing, cooking/baking, digital art, poetry, & casual gaming. My favorite games are Bayonetta, Dragon Age, Undertale, Distance, SNK and CAPCOM fighting games.. eeh, I could go on - I dabble a bit in every game genre and love all of ‘em. Don’t play too many strategy political games or fast-paced multiplayer shooters though, sorry! 🤷‍♂️

– six / FAVOURITE COLOURS. #ff005d, #ff9e00, #0bffb1 🎨

– seven / FAVOURITE BOOKS. Kyou Kara Ore Wa!!, Paros no Ken, Black Jack, Rookies, uhhh im sure there’s more i can’t remember SORRY

– eight / LAST SONG LISTENED TO. Future Wife Carly Haze 140bpm - Yumi Rose

– nine / LAST FILM WATCHED. uhhhh I think it was pan’s labyrinth? or was it like half of blade that I never finished?.. Or did I re-watch enter the spider-verse again recently?.. it’s been months since I’ve watched a movie instead of a tv show fdjkhgfjk, apologies, no idea

– ten / INSPIRATION FOR MUSE. Alus is pretty much the exact opposite of any OC I’ve ever played - I tend to make player characters that are very rowdy, vulgar, messy, brutally honest and loud, usually pugilists/monks with the personality of an overly cocky shounen protagonist with no fear or shame, always chaotic neutral types, often fun drunkards. Alus was the first time I made someone who was polite, neat, gentle and unwaveringly kind and good-aligned, and very lawful. At the time I created him in my life I was struggling a lot with ideas of traditional gender identity and frankly I’ve always liked pretty, elegant, romantic aesthetics - Once I realized I could identify as a prince in a fairy tale instead of being forced into a princess role just to have that sweet shoujo aesthetic (and reading Paros no Ken for the first time!), I decided on that aesthetic and went all-out for him to have it. But since I love underdogs, I made him a completely clueless guy who’s forever reaching for an unreachable goal (being royalty, specifically and especially an idea of a good guy fairy tale royalty, or else a perfection incarnate sparkly fairy tale knight in shining armor). I think that when a character is reaching for something that’s pretty much impossible or hopeless for them, I emotionally relate to them a lot. Alus bullshitted from the beginning that he was a hero, or a warrior of light, or a prince in shining armor there to save everybody, and after a very long journey... He pretty much is! And I think that’s extremely beautiful and heartwarming that he’s changed so much after working so hard. And his journey has been full of things that have weathered him into a more realistic idea of these things. I think seeing his foolish optimism somehow exist despite everything horrible that’s happened gives me hope for the world. A few months after creating and playing Alus, I played Undertale for the first time which very dramatically and permanently changed the way I felt morally and how I viewed the world (no joke!) so I decided from then on he’d be a pacifist, or at least an aspiring pacifist. I realized I drew a whole crap ton of inspiration from Vash the Stampede in writing him afterwards. I headcanon they have the same english voice actor too, haha.

His first ever inspiration for his personality was actually Judge Harry T. Stone from the 1980s sitcom Night Court. Talk about an obscure reference! One of Alus’ themes is also a Mel Tormé song, which is a direct reference to Harry’s obsession with the singer in the show. (FYI, if you like/can stand sitcoms with live audience laughter, Night Court is still incredibly funny imo, and really heartwarming when it deals with difficult topics - very humanitarian morality throughout.)

- eleven / GOD KNOWS WHERE IT WENT. god knows..

– twelve / MEANING BEHIND YOUR URL. thebeauregardbros is pretty self explanatory; this was meant to be a blog to document Alus and Arc’s adventures! Arc doesn’t show up much, so it became more of a casual blog for me ‘n’ Alus. @thefakenarcissist (my art blog) is a bit of a 2edgy4me title I gave myself once I decided to start faking self-confidence until it became real, which has honestly worked for me since I made the URL! I used to be terrified of showing or holding any sort of self confidence in fear it would label me a narcissist (usually a word with a negative connotation.) It’s also a bit of a reference to my favorite Street Fighter character, Vega, who’s musical theme is called “The Masked Narcissist”. He’s definitely a bad type of narcissist though, haha! But yeah, tldr; I think it’s better to fake acting like a goofy narcissist than to not have any confidence at all and act like it’s a normal and fine thing, because it’s not! Saying mean things about yourself is an act of self-harm, and I will always believe that. Alus is the same.

Tagged by: STOLEN BC IM VAIN

Tagging: @mostdangerouspotato @clearsundays @miqo-vynnie @handofcards aND U

#mun #meme

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storydays · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1: The Adventure Begins p2

*In the forest*

Sprinting through the woods, Ezra felt his heart race as a shriek echoed through the night. "Remember Ezra! Owlbears are carnivorous beasts with great strength and limited intellect! They fear fire and are easily startled." Ezra slid down the hill, leaving a dust trail behind and knelt to the ground, watching the scene in front "Stay back! Please?" asked/demanded an old man hugging a tree. He waved his staff trying to wave him off. Unfazed the enraged owlbeast rose on its hind legs, and shrieked again.

"Kade, Nia stand back. I've got this." He spoke lowly, before aiming his late father's dagger and hurling it with scary good precision. The blade sunk deep into the beasts leg, making it growl in pain. "I've got more where that came from." Ezra threatened. It growled locking eyes on the elf, before preparing to attack. Using his heighten elven senses, Ezra watched thick muscles tighten a millisecond before it swung its heavy paw towards the young elf. Ezra rolled under its paw.

"Yes! Two points Ezra, zero points owlbear!" cheered Kade. Thron off-balance, the injured creature crashed into a tree. It staggered back, shaking its head. It screeched at Ezra; it was hurt badly, and furious. "Watch out! It's going to charge!" Nia cried. Studying the beast, Ezra pulled out his sword, and put it to the side, out of his reach, and held up his empty hands, locking eyes with the owlbear.

"I understand now. You were just protecting your owlet-cubs. I'm sorry we disturbed your family. I am also sorry for injuring you. Will you let me heal you?" Ezra asked softly, making his way towards the beast before he was crouching in front of the beast. "Ezra! What are you doing?" Kade exclaimed, shocked at his brother's actions. "Making amends." The elf stated before holding a hand out in front of the beast. It hissed at him before watching its owlet-cubs flutter towards the white haired being.

They licked him and cooed happily as he ran a hand over their feathers. Taking note of her distraction, Ezra took out some ointment and gently removed the knife and applied the healing medicine. The creature sighed in relief before nuzzling Ezra and ushering her children along. "Go on, follow your mother." He chided the littlest owlet-cub, who hurried to catch up with his family.

"Nothing to it." Ezra chuckled, cleaning his blade, and sheathing it in his thigh holster. "You really got it to go away! Ezra, that was amazing!"Nia cheered, starting to throw her arms around the elf but stops and backs away, embarrassment clear on her cheeks. She twirled a piece of hair in her fingers, fidgeting. "I mean....I am very grateful for your service." She corrected. "My pleasure. If I had it my way working with animals would be an every day occurrence." In front of you, the old man climbs down from the tree and approaches the group. Ezra eyed his priest robes, cloak, and the many viles on his person.

"Thank you, kind strangers! Without you, I wouldn't know what I would've done." "Mister, it was really no trouble." Ezra shrugged. Nia and Kade smile at Ezra, brown and green eyes filled with wonder. "Maybe for you it wasn't, but we didn't stand a chance on our own. We're in your debt." "The Light blesses those who help travelers in need. It will shine upon you two. "It's not a sack of coin, but I'll take it." The old man swooped into a deep bow before the brothers.

"I am Scholar Vash Vallerin, High Priest of the Light. I see you've already met my apprentice, Nia." He sent a warm smile towards the two men, as Nia spoke up. "I'm sorry, Scholar...I tried to use the Light to ward off the owlbear, but the magic wasn't powerful enough. " "No need to apologize, my dear. You are still a novice, and have never had to use battle magic in a real scenario. You did what you could." Scholar Vash soothed Nia.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on. You can use magic? I've never met a mage before!" Kade looked at the two with sparkles in his eyes. "One day, Nia will be a great priestess, healing the sick, protecting the weak, holding the darkness of the world at bay! For now though, she's still training. We're on a pilgrimage to visit all of the temples of the Light throughout the kingdom. Is there one in your village, perhaps?" Vash asked.

"Not since we've lived here. I don't think anyone follows that faith anymore." Kade hummed. "There might be one person....that one lady who lives in the cave by the river?" Ezra wondered outloud. "No, she worships the Great Beetle, remember?" laughed the younger brother. "What a shame," sighed the old man, "The decline of the faithful...In any case, we're seeking the Temple of Ellara...Which is supposed to be right around here." Vash looked around, for said place.

"The Temple of Ellara? That old ruin? I haven't been there myself, but it's about a day's walk from town." Kade explained. "Oh, that's the most wonderful news! Nia, we must journey at once!" Vash clapped his hands excitedly. "But...are you sure it's safe? What if we encounter another owlbear? Or worse?" "Nia frowned at her mentor's words.

"Fortunately, the Light has blessed us with these fine, strapping adventurers to protect us!" Vash gestured to the elf and human. "Err..we aren't--" Kade was interrupted by Vash. "We can't offer you much, but if you'd accompany us to the temple and fend off any other mishaps..I could pay you 30 gold." "T-Thirty gold?" Ezra spoke up for the first time in a while, shocked at the price. "Can you give us a second to talk it over?" Ezra pulled his brother out of earshot, the teen looking anxiously Nia and Vash.

"Ezra, I don't know about this. Scaring off one owlbear is fine, but there's not telling what's put there by those ruins." "Kade, come on. It's just an old temple, and I'm sure there's tons of useful knowledge in that head of yours." Ezra smiled. "I do know about ancient temples." Kade hummed. "Besides, we could really use the adventure. If this works out, we could accompany them on the rest of their journey. We could see the world outside Riverbend's walls! Nowhere too far, of course. But if it turns out we're good at this 'adventuring' thing, who knows where it might lead?" Ezra asked, getting more excited with each passing moment.

"To our early graves?" Kade joked, yelping when his brother gave him a noogie. "You're such a pessimist. And I know you want to see the temple from your stories. Look, let's just take them to this temple and head back after, okay? We'll be 30 gold richer and you'll have a great new story to tell at the tavern." Ezra sang cheerfully. Kade shakes his head in defeat, a grin spreading across his face.

"Fine, big brother. I can't deny you an adventure that fell right into your lap." "Yes! That's the spirit!" Ezra cheered before slinging an arm around Kade's shoulders, they returned to the waiting priest and priestess. "We're in! We can take you to the Ellara temple ruins, then bring you back to Riverbend." "Oh that's wonderful news!" Nia smiled. "Indeed! Thank you, kind strangers!" Vash smiled with glee.

"Please, I'm Ezra and this is my brother Kade. Don't worry; if he starts talking your ear off, I'll slap him on the back of his head." He joked, ignoring Kade's mock glare. "I feel so much better having protection...especially from such a perceptive elf as yourself." Nia beamed. "It's too dark to keep traveling tonight. We'll camp here and continue on in the morning. Though, I must admit, I'm not much for setting up camp." Nia admitted with an embarrassed red blush on her cheeks.

Ezra chuckled gently. "Don't worry. The outdoors are my playground. Sit back and allow me." Using his knowledge of the woods, Ezra gathered firewood, created a windbreak, and stoked a steady fire to keep everyone warm...in 2 minutes flat. "Done!" "Wow, you really know what you're doing! I'm so glad you ran into you, Ezra!"

'Literally.' Ezra and Kade thought, snickering to themselves. Everyone settled in for the night. Scholar Vash disappeared into his tent and seconds later, the three remaining heard loud snoring. "I guess one of us will get some sleep tonight, even if it keeps the rest of us awake. " Kade chuckled. "You're one to talk! When you snore, it sounds like the rumbling of a swamp-hippo." Ezra joked.

"Come on, Ezra! Not in front of the priestess." Kade blushed, pouting slightly. "It's fine! I think swamp-hippos are adorable." Nia chimed in, innocently. "Not helping..but maybe counting swamp-hippos will help me fall asleep? Wish me luck, you two." Kade waved his good nights, leaving his laughing brother at the fire. Nia stared into the fire, deep into her thoughts, absentmindedly rubbing her wrist. "Everything okay?" Ezra asked, poking the fire.

"It's not a big deal, but I lost a bracelet of mine when the owlbear attacked." She admitted. "Oh, something sentimental?" wondered Ezra. "Sentimental...and practical. It's made of Lightcrystals, ones that strengthen my magic. Without it, well, I'm a little weaker. And I worry I'll need all the strength I can muster for the journey ahead." 'I suppose I could offer to help her go back and find it.' Ezra thought to himself.

"Welp, come along, Priestess. Let's go find that bracelet of yours. Before another owlbear picks it up." He stood up, reattaching his sword. "Are you sure we'll be safe?" Nia asked, standing up, twisting her fingers. "You can count on my blade..and the rest of me, too." Ezra assured. "Well, all right then! If you're sure!" Together, they snuck away from camp, going back the way they came from.

"So..how do you like our side of the world?" the elf wondered. "It's very different from what I'm used to. But I suppose most places are. This is the furthest I've ever been from home, you know? Did you grow up around here?" Brown eyes met gold eyes. "Yeah, Kade and I have spent our whole lives here. How about you?" "I've lived in the city of Whitetower all my life." She admitted. "The capital? asked Ezra. "The only one." Nia giggled.

"That's amazing! I've always wanted to see Whitetower. The beautiful spires...the king's castle..the shops and museums..." He trailed off, noticing Nia spacing out again. "I-I've never saw much of that. The Temple of Light adopted me as a baby, and that's where I spent most of my life. I only left to perform services with the other priests, delivering alms to the poor and healing the sick." She mumbled.

"So this pilgrimage you're on now..it's a big deal. You're seeing the world for the first time. " Ezra realized. "Yes...I'm thrilled to be ascending to priestess, but there's clearly so much more to the world than I'd ever imagined." Nia beamed at Ezra. "The world can be beautiful." he stated, looking at the stars. Nia glanced at him, but ducked her head, when gold eyes caught her staring.

"I-It certainly has been so far." She admitted. "I would give anything to see Cliffs of Colaris, or Flotilla, or the spires of Whitetower..." Ezra hummed. "Oh, you have to come to Whitetower someday!" "So many people from all over the realms bustling through the beautiful streets. At least, that's what I've hear." Nia lowered her voice to a whisper, "If you visit, I'll have an excuse to leave the Temple and see it all with you." "I'd like that very much." Ezra yelped when Nia suddenly pulled him back with her with a startled look.

"Wait! Ezra, look!!" She pointed to a small grove by a pond. Something bright and shiny sparkles on the ground, surrounded by a dozen frilled, lizard-like creatures. "Ugh, kromps." Ezra sighed. "I've never head of them! Why are they called--" "Kromp kromp! KROMP!" the creatures screeched. "Oh." Nia laughed nervously. "They're nasty little bastards crawling around hoarding shiny things for their burrows."

"Do they bite?" the priestess wondered, shivering slightly. "Oh yeah, and the females are venomous. Want me to take care of them?" Ezra nudged the hilt of his sword questioningly. "You mean...kill them? But they're so small and cute!" Nia blinked. "I...don't know about that, but they aren't currently in between us and your bracelet." The elf raised an eyebrow.

"I don't want to hurt them! Do you have any other ideas?" "How about you use your magic? You said you can do magic, right? Anything that can help here?" Nia bit her lip, but nodded. "I suppose there's one thing I can try." Nia closed her eyes, drawing her hands to her chest before flaring them out wide. A blinding flash of white light blasts out of her hand, turning night to day for one dazzling second.

"Whoa! I could've used a warning there!" Ezra complained, rubbing his eyes, seeing the kromps stunned from the sudden light. "Nice, Nia. I'm going to try and grab it!" Ezra sprinted forward, diving into a roll, grabbing the bracelet. Groaning, he shook off a mischievous kromp who sunk its teeth into his left bicep.

"Get off, you pest!" the kromp let go, flying into a tree. Ezra grabbed Nia's hand and they ran off. "Ezra! Are you okay?" Nia asked, picking up her robes. "I'm fine, but those kromps are furious! Run!" Ezra commanded. The two sprinted through the woods, leaping over logs and ducking under branches until they collapse against an old tree. Panting heavily, Ezra handed the priestess her bracelet.

"Please, tell me this is yours." Nia perked up, gently taking the jewelry. "It is! You really got it!" She lifted her hand, and Ezra gently slipped it onto her delicate wrist. As his fingers brushed against hers, he could swear he felt a crackle of energy. A light blue glow engulfed Nia, as her power returned to its normal state. "Was that...magic?" asked the stunned elf.

"Just a little." Nia giggled before reaching for Ezra's injured arm staring at the bite mark that was bleeding into his shirt. "You're hurt!" she cried. "It's fine. A male kromp: no poison. I'm sure it's nothing." He shrugged. "Don't be ridiculous. Here, let me help you." Before he could protest, the human hovered her finger tips over the bite. Her lips began moving soundlessly, the forest growing still around the two, a warm breeze with whispers echoing through the stillness.

Sparks of gold dance beneath Nia's fingers. Ezra felt his skin tingle before watching the wound close. Ezra sighed in quiet relief, "Amazing! It's like the cut was never there! I've never met someone who could use magic before." He grinned at Nia's blush on her cheeks. "It's what I've been trained all my life to do." Her smile fades, and she looks into her lap. "It's all I've never known. Using the power of the Light to serve others."

"That's impressive but also oppressive. Don't you want to live your life for yourself?" Ezra asked. "Well, that seems awfully selfish, don't you think? If I have this gift that can help others, then I ought to use it. " Nia said firmly. "As long as you're happy, I guess that's what really matters." Ezra shrugged. "I'll be happy once I've ascended to priestess. Then I can truly do great works for the kingdom." Nia smiled.

Finally the two made their way back to camp, and Ezra barely stifled a yawn. "Speaking of finishing your tasks..so you can ascend.." This time he does yawn. "Yeah, you're right. We should both get some sleep. Oh, and Ezra?" Nia started to walk away before turning to the white haired elf. "Yeah?" He asked, startled by the lack of space. "I'm so glad you joined us." Ezra smiled, taking Nia's hand, before kissing it delicately. The priestess turned as red as her hair.

Thank you, Nia. Seriously."

Light laughter fluttered through the camp. "Thank you for accompanying me tonight. I'm not used to anyone's company but Vash's. I really enjoyed myself. " She admitted, peeking through her lashes. "I did too. It feels weird to say this, but I'm glad you lost your bracelet. But like you said, we should try and get some shuteye before we hit the road again. Sleep well, Priestess." Nia smiled once more, before heading to her tent. "May the Light guard your dreams, Ezra." "Yours too."

*The next morning*

Ezra woke up to the sunrise, and wandered out of his tent, stretching. He found Kade sitting at the campsite, tuning his lute. "Ready for our big adventure?" Ezra yawned. "I am, brother. Although, before we go..are you sure you wanna head out looking that?" He teased at his brother's disheveled appearance. "What do you mean? What's wrong with this?" asked Ezra.

"It's just...a little plain for the Great Adventurer Ezra." Kade hid a smile. "Do you have an alternative?" the elf asked sarcastically. Kade grinned and reached into his heavy bag. "I'm always prepared." Ezra smiled at the outfit before entering his tent to change the clothes. He came out wearing a red vest with brown belt buckles across, a blue long sleeve under shirt. black slacks, and black boots. He strapped his sword hilt to his hip, and adjusted his necklace that changes color and shape, depending on his mood. He re-braided his hair, and was in the middle of adjusting his wrist guards when his gold eyes looked slyly at his brother.

"What do you think?" "Now that's what I'm talking about. Gone are my days of being the best dressed sibling." Kade joked, when Nia stepped out of her tent. She blinked, her eyes adjusted to the light, but her cheeks flushed red seeing Ezra. "Yes, you..you look quite remarkable." She agreed.

Soon enough, the party of four headed off towards the ruins. "The forest is so beautiful in the daylight! The golden sunbeams filtering through the leaves, dew glinting on the under-bush..Ooh! Is that a deer?" Nia moved from one thing to another happily. Kade nudged Ezra as Nia wandered over to a bush with red flowers.

"She doesn't get out much, does she?" He asked curiously, before grinning mischievously at his brother. "Oh no," groaned Ezra, "What now?" "You know what. Admit it: She's cute." the teen's green eyes sparkled with mischief. "She's beautiful, but not my type. I prefer strong women who can keep up with me." He nudged his brother with his shoulder.

"Maybe in a few years, she'll be your type." Ezra cackled, at the furious blush on Kade's face. "Oh! I think I see the temple ruins up ahead!" Nia cried, pointing with excitement. Golden eyes zeroed in on the crumbling entrance of the Temple of Ellara at the end of the end of a stone staircase.

But the ruins weren't empty.

"Are those--?" Nia whimpered. Several human bodies litter the messy steps, caked in blood. "What...what is.." "By the Light, it's..." Vash gaped. "A massacre!" Kade gulped. Ezra felt his heart sink seeing the bodies. "By the Gods..is that--" he whispered. "Constable Angus, and poor Grenn." Kade agreed. Ezra straightened, looking sadly at his old friend.

"What the hell happened here?"

@imturaxamara

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flyingsassysaddles · 6 years

Text

The Holy Order’s Redemption

Notes: And fuck I did it again, sorry I did this last minute ;;v;; exams are a bitch. This is my @aphsecretsanta rare pair exchange for @aph--china! They requested Prussia/Switzerland with a theme of Redemption for one of their themes, so here it is! The demon is, of course, Prussia, and the angel is Switzerland if you don’t know his name! Lilli is Lichtenstein, and Ludwig/Germany is referred to as Prussia’s brother. And...I think that’s it! This was really fun to make, and I’m glad I could write something for this pairing!

Summary: Vash, as is his duty as the guard of the Holy Prisons, is walking the infamous soul eater demon down the halls to be judged by the Holy Supreme Court of Heaven. Being close to his sister’s killer is starting to draw out the worst in the former guardian angel, and the albino demon quickly tests his limits.

Happy Reading!

____

Vash gripped his sword tighter, tensing his wings against his back and snarling at the demon before him. “I strongly advise you to be silent, you fallen mother-”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” the albino rolled his eyes, red slits dancing with fire and the smell of burnt flesh following the prisoner as he was rushed along the passageway to the Supreme Heavenly Court. “You don’t like me, you don’t have to be so rude about it, yeesh.”

“Yes, I don’t ‘like’ you,” the guardian spat, sword a hair from being drawn and slaughtering the chained prisoner, “You killed my Protected. You should be lucky I don’t kill you where you stand, demon bastard.” With a flick of his fingers, the demon was thrown further down the hallway by the drones in front of him, his blond hair shining the stale light from the ceiling onto the mindless bodies that waited for their next order. Although a dark voice whispered to kill the murderer in front of him, his Inner Light, the damned voice in his head that kept his behavior in strict ordinance with Holy Order, lit a path that prevented him from snapping his neck in the most blessed halls of Heaven. Afterall, killing your enemies was demon behavior.

The insolent bastard, with his jagged, lone pair of wings and his ivory claws, started to tap out a tune as the drones become more rough with him, reacting to the slow-burning aura emanating from his halo and perceiving that as orders to shove and trip the unnatural entity. Vash didn’t stop them.

“You know where we’re going?” the demon asked, bleached tail swishing through the air, somehow escaping the normal mutilation that happened in confession rooms. Shackles rattling on his wrists, he leaned closer to the former guardian angel and said, “Am I going to the execution area already?”

“I suppose it’s fitting no one told you,” Vash snorted, dagger dangling from his wrist and green eyes glistening with the opportunity to tear the demon apart, if just with words. There were times before when his Inner Light would have clamped his jaw shut and order him to remain neutral like all guardians, but now that his title had been stripped away and he had been demoted to a simple prison guard, it was mostly silent to the loathing that had churned in him. With a mute conscience, he said, “You’re going to the Supreme Heavenly Court, where they’ll hold a mock trial and sentence you to any number of grisly deaths for eating blessed souls. Perhaps a gladiator battle,” Vash proposed, watching the pale demon’s face for any signs of guilt or horror, “Maybe you’ll finally be able to eat a demon’s lifesource. I hear they kept Ivan the Grim alive for the express purpose of watching him tear demons apart. If you get lucky, he might go easy on you.”

“No way that’s real,” the demon laughed, but there was something fearful in his eyes, Vash noted with a malicious glee. “Angels don’t just, just KILL people. You’re supposed to be the goodie two shoes of the Realms, like all peaceful and shit.”

“Not to demons like you,” Vash said, and prodded him further to his doom.

“You’re trying to make me scared so I’ll confess to the court,” he proclaimed, blood eyes dashing to the side and hands fidgeting slightly with his white prisoner’s garb.

“Interesting theory. Too bad they already have all the evidence they need, snow bastard.”

“First of all, I’m not a snow demon, and second, how the fuck do you know that?”

“Because I have ears and don’t live under a rock in the most gossiping city this side of Saint Paul. Also,” the blond hissed, pressing his sword into the demons back until it drew blood, smiling grimly at the yelp the demon gave, “I have a special interest in your case.”

The demon whipped around, for the first sign showing flares of aggression and spitting, “What the fuck is your fucking-”

“Language,” Vash warned, and the drones besides him crushed the albino’s shoulders, eyes glowing in sync with the Holy Orbs on the walls. “No offensive language is permitted in the Heavenly Court Building.” The Inner Light moved his mouth to speak, and ever the faithful follower, he added, “Any unholy acts, orders, or speech that is not sanctified by the Court is prohibited. Please remain orderly and reasonable in all manners while in the presence of the Holy-”

“Oh save it, Vash.” A flick of satisfaction appeared on the pale demon’s face as Vash tried to keep his own face blank at the revelation that he knew his name, and knowing that he was failing when the demon laughed. “Yeah, I know your name, Vash.”

The second utterance shook his Inner Light as the name commanded him like the judges or the higher angels. Such power came with names, something whispered, we must get rid of him. Of course, we can’t get rid of him, his Inner Light bounced back. He’s a prisoner, he must face justice. But after. No, never. Yes, let us consume the demon who ate our Protected, strike him down in vengeance!

He gritted his teeth, shoving the seething hostility below the Inner Light and motioning the drones ahead of him as he collected himself.

“Don’t you want to know why I know your name?” the demon teased, now back in a position of power with guard’s name in his grasps. “It has to do with your beloved Protected-”

“Don’t you dare speak of Lili!” Vash screamed, sword fully drawn and aimed at the grinning demon's throat, and even though the guardian had the prisoner pressed against the wall, the drones fell back. “It’s your fault she’s dead,” the dark said, green eyes swirling with red, his six wings stretched out their full length, “And I should skin you alive for taking away my purpose!”

“Wow,” the demon blinked. “She wasn’t kidding when she said you were violent.” He caught his head to the side, acting in control despite being centimeters from death. “She mentioned you when she cried out for help, you know. She said, ‘Vash, why won’t you save me!’” He mimicked her high voice, eyes filled with mockery and abandon, wanting one last strike at this robotic creature before his trial, before his wings were mutilated and his body dent out to be devoured by Heaven’s pet monsters. The rumors were true, and like fuck he was going to step foot in that courtroom.

“You bastard!” Vash howled, a moment away from slicing the waiting demon’s throat before the Holy Orbs erupted in light and shoved him backward, forcing him away from the startled prisoner and onto the floor.

“No offensive language is permitted in the Heavenly Court Building,” the drones repeated, staring at the angel with empty eyes and spread their arms in front of the demon as if to protect him. “This is a prisoner. He is not to be harmed until his trial. This is a prisoner. He is not to be harmed before his trial. This is a-”

“I understand, and I apologize for my behavior in the holy building,” his Inner Light responded, shoving the corrupted energy back to its abode and bowing to the holy minds ingrained into the walls. Gritting his teeth, he said robotically, “I accept my punishment, and I accept the Holy One’s will forevermore.”

The drones nodded, their human-like bodies glowing gold, and picked the demon up again. They were back to being the mindless beings they were before, waiting for orders as he gave a sigh of relief. Back in control, really in control, that dark spirit sealed away from his mind, his Inner Light said, “Demon, proceed. Please refrain from that conduct again. Attempted suicide is not sanctioned by the Holy Order, and you must wait for your trial before receiving an agreed death.”

“Oh Lucifer,” the demon breathed, eyes wide and taking a step back to the wall, “They really control you. Every single one of you. I saw you, I really saw you, I swear!” The demon narrowed his eyes at the blank angel in front of him. “But you’re just a robot, huh. The only thing you can really think about is Lilli.”

He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth and feeling the hideous emotions rise over him again, begging him to defend his Protected, his sweet baby sister he guarded with his life, to murder her killer and forget about whatever redemption or punishment the trial might give him. ‘What about Lili?’ it whispered.

“Refrain from attempting to provoke the guards,” Vash spoke, Inner Light glowing in sync to the lights on the walls, clenching his heart and burying those traitorous thoughts under the sheet of the Holy Order. “Lilli Zwingli is a Former-Protected, and she has the utmost respect and caused great sorrow to the Holy Order of Angels,” Vash stated, eyes as blank as the drones that now pushed the demons further down the hall.

The demon seemed to be deeply shook, tail limp and eyes locked on the humming walls and the presence of the Holy Order all around the group. Vash glossed over this, following his light guided path, stopping in front of the doors of the Supreme Courtroom. With a push on the door and a respectful step back, he looked his sister’s murderer in his red slitted eyes, and smiled, letting an inkling of satisfaction come from the heartless being’s death.

With one glance into the tense, cloudy room for the worst offenders, the soul eaters, the cannibals, the traitors, the demons, he gave one last response to the brother of the High Judge, the infamous Gilbert Beilschmidt, and not even his Inner Light could drown out hate dripped, sanctioned words.

“May you face your trial with courage,” he repeated for the millionth time, the final goodbye to the lost prisoners of the Angels, “and may you find redemption.”

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twsted-princess · 7 years

Text

Dreams Really Do Come True

(This a redo of my old one that I’m really proud of and I want to give it some love)

Another Princess of Hearts fanfic! Based off the wonderful post done by my dear friend @asa-de-ouro.

It was supposed to be another Saturday morning. I mean, it started normally. I woke up, brushed my teeth, checked my notifications on phone, went to my kitchen to make some tea. No one else besides my sister is up, just another day. That’s when it changed. As I went to the study my eyes focused on a oddly placed red button by the front door. There was something written by the button “Those whom you ship yourself with become real and are happy to see you , This includes those whom you shipped yourself with in the past”. Reading the note, my heart swelled at the thought, the idea of those who I adore with all of the heart being here in the world of reality, being with me and loving me unconditionally. My hand was hovering over the button, but my mind was racing. Maybe this is just some prank bro put out for. “But if that’s true, how does he know that I have fictional crushes? This could only be a sick joke.” My thoughts fought with each-other for a while until I finally decided. “If this is really a joke, let’s put to the test” I say to myself as I press the button.

Nothing happen….figures. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes, it was my own wishful thinking. Disappointed with myself, I’m about to sit down at the seats in the kitchen when the doorbell ring. “It’s probably the mailman or something”, raising to get it, the teapot warming up the water is the background noise. I peek through the glass on the door connecting the porch to the outside, there’s what I can assume a head of grey hair and a brilliant pair of teal eyes. “No, that can’t be….” my body wanting to open the door while my brain tried to process the events. I opened the door and standing only a few steps away is Philip. His eyes met mine and he gave me a smile seeing only love and accomplishment, like I’m an oasis made by the gods. He kneels before me, placing a closed hand against his heart, I’m taken back and from his mouth “It’s been too long my princess” comes out.

“Is this really happening?” is all I’m thinking as he rises. We stand there for some time until he coughs, “So can I come it?” he speaks, his smile not leaving. Snapping at the trace, blushing at the fact that I standing there like a idiot “O-Of course.” comes out. I lead him to the living room where he sits in on the sofa. There’s an awkward silence on my part when the teapot signals it’s ready, “Uh…D-Do you want something to eat, or drink, or something?” I say nervous as all hell. “Not really.” he replies, his eyes not leaving mine for a second “W-Well, If you don’t mind I-I’m going to make some tea”. Speed-walking to the kitchen my mind is racing for answers “This has to be a joke. Yeah, that’s right. He’s just a professional cosplayer that paid to do this. He would never actually fall in love. I’m not pretty, or smart or anything worth loving. I’m annoying and stupid and AGH!”. As I’m pouring the tea and loathing myself for falling for the prank that my brother is probably laughing his ass over, I noticed that Philip is staring at something on the wall. Following his line of sight my eyes are now noticing that there’s a clock that was never there before. It’s counting down the time, 133:55, that’s weird. He sees that I’m focused on the clock when he chuckles, again snapping me out of my foolishness. “Don’t worry about the clock, I’m just waiting for the rest of the gang to show up” he turns to look me still in that adoring stare. “Wait! There’s more comin-” I can’t get the rest of the words out when the doorbell rings agains. “This is a dream” I say repeatedly to myself as I head to the door, opening it, my eyes laid more figures that I know more then anything. Kiyomasa Senji (Deadman Wonderland), Vash (Trigun), S-Sha (Hyperdimension Neptunia), Theodore (Persona 3) and tower above them was Blue Diamond (Steven Universe).

My brain is almost ready to explode when Philip comes up behind me, “Hey, guys! Nice to meet you finally!”. Vash two-finger salutes him, Blue Diamond waves while the others nod. They see me and they all smile with the same simile of love. “Well, don’t just stand there! Come on it, there’s tea if anyone wants some.” He said heading inside. They follow, passing by me, Diamond transforming herself into a smaller but still tall enough height. “It’s good to finally meet you” Senji spoke while passing me patting my head. The once fictional characters entering my house while I stand still trying to make out if this is real or fantasy. “I have to be dreaming, there’s literally no way this is actually happening...” going back inside I see that everyone has settled in and are now chatting. Gaining some confidence I clear my throat “Can anyone please explain to me what’s going on here?” everyone heads turn to face me “Am I just the willing participant in a elaborate joke?”. The questions hang in the air for a bit, “You can admit it, I know you’re doing this just to get a laugh…I don’t mind. You’re all just cosplaying those characters to get a reaction out of me about how stupid I am, aren’t you?” I added.“What are you talking about? We’re here cause you called us, isn’t that right?” Satan spoke up. “But, that’s impossible...you guys aren’t real.” I tried to explain as S-Sha walked up to me taking the hold on my hand. “We’re here to be with you, it’s that simple.” her voice was true and sounded genuine. She guided my hand to her sliver hair allowing me to feel. It’s was so soft, and I couldn’t feel and wig cap underneath. Again the doorbell rang.

“I’ll go get it.” Senji said as he rose from the seat. S-Sha sat me down and Blue Diamond got me my tea that I ignored. I took notice on the strange clock again it now reading 100:09. The door swung open and another bunch of the people I love walked into the living room. This time a group of ten. Their faces all too familiar to me as everyone greeted each other. The group would then come over to me, with hellos and how much they missed me like I’m a loved one they haven’t seen in a long time. My heart is beating so fast and I felt like I was going to pass out from all the attention. “Maybe this isn’t a dream after all.” I ponder the thought as I get up to make the new guests more comfortable. Making some tea and coffee, I offer the refreshments to them. Some take the offer while some recline. There’s chatter with laughter as stories are being told along with some lighthearted arguing, I stand against the wall enjoying the scene. Another ring from the door, rushing to get it, the clock changes to read 100:00. The next group of ten enters as I’m now greeted with hugs, head pats, even kisses on the hand and/or cheek. Some of them even brought gifts of flowers and even a small crown to me. The living room and kitchen are almost full so I direct the party to the garden outback the conversations continued outside. Soon enough, my parents and my older brother walk downstairs to witness the party at hand. All three of them are stumped speechless at the size of the group. “Oh! Morning you guys! I’ll explain everything later!” My simile is now slightly hurting but I couldn’t care less. This is a dream come true and I don’t want to wake up. My twin sister has now joined the party, having almost the amount of excitement as me. My parents don’t want to question the fact that we’re having the time of lives so my dad started to breakfest while my mom talks to guests. I pulled my brother to the side “Okay, so was this your plan for a joke or something?” I asked in all seriousness. “No! I have literally have no idea what’s going on!’ he said in total honestness. My eyes was against fall in the clock as another group invites themselves in. The time reads 80:15, the dots connect in my head. It’s counting down every single character I’ve had a crush on. I giggle at my own forgetfulness as i rejoins the party.

Everything is going smoothly as more of the people I love come through the door. Everyone is having a grand time. My parents are getting along with the guest, my sister looks like she’s going pass out from seeing fictional characters in real life while my brother is confused as fuck but is going along with her. The talking is pleasant and the food is almost done. I’ve talked to the loves of my life. Seeing them so happy and even loosen up a bit fills my heart with joy. I smile at the crowd, not wanting this moment to end. There’s a knock at the door “Coming!” I shout as my feet rush to the door. On my way to the door I see that wonderful clock counting down. 7, 6, 5… my steps matched the timing as my hand grip the knob 4, 3, 2… I open to the door and stare at Roronoa Zoro, my very first fictional crush. “It’s been forever, Melanie” are the only words he gets out as I leap into his arms. Hugging him with every fiber in my body I feel tears beginning to fell. He hugs back as the group see that the final guest is here at last. “This really isn’t a dream, is it?” I asked looking up at his face, our eyes locking. “Not at all” a warm grin spread across his lips. It’s just like the stories, dreams really do come true.

#my work #otp: Princess of Hearts #Please give this attention!!#It would really be appreciated!!!

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iphoenixrising · 7 years

Note

Anything Angsty with Tim please. Recommendations, a fic anything, just feeling angsty .... (P.S doctor!tim is everything I've ever needed and looking forward to AOB part 5! You're amazing! Good luck with your day)

Hi babe. I’m sorry I kept this for so long, but I am def aware how much you love your pain (lol) and I had this idea spinning for a while, so… Yeah. But ah, I started thinking about this what-if from the Fracture Verse and it got really long and intense really fast>.Destroyed. Basically, the Titans take on theinvaders and most the JL mentors take their sidekicks for some R&R exceptfor Red Robin, who goes back to the Tower to take care of himself and Batmanjust kind of lets him go.Well, What-If B just wasn’t having any of that? What if shit started getting so real there and just ALL THE KNOWLEDGE DROP HAPPENS THERE INSTEAD OF A YEAR LATER O_O Like, Tim has only been back from his little torture vacay and then the mind fuckery of the Insurgents and just!

So…here it is.

All-in-all, invading aliens are douche canoes.

Seriously.

Kon, Cassie, Bart, Rave, Gar, and Miguel are allin agreement with him on this one; especially after they were all trapped in anendless of loop of their worst moment, worst losses, worst failures while stuckin the alien’s most powerful weapon: the Mind Trap.

Sure, it had been his brilliant, last-ditch ideato jump ball to the wall into the trap, giving him the access to their neuralnet he needed to break the hive mentality and shut them down from the inside.

It doesn’t make anything, any of it, anybetter.

While he’s reliving Kon’s final moments, Raven’snear insanity at the hand of Trigon, Gar’s out-of-control power ripping hisbody apart, Cassie’s nearly fatal injuries, Bart’s last wishes while hecoughs up blood and bile, Miguel watching his beloved slip in a coma to hoveron the edge of death—

While he’s doing all of that, Cassie is gettinghit with a two week span of time he was tortured as Tim Drake, Kon is getting aload of life with a ruptured spleen bleeding out, Bart is feeling the contagiontaking hold to kill Batman’s sidekick, Gar is feeling the pain when he, Damian,and Dick are fighting it out after the Robin tunic was given away without hisconsent, and Miguel is feeling a whole lot of owfuck from that time theRed Hood tried giving him a second smile to worry about.

But what matters in the end? With Raven’s help,he’s able to keep part of his mind partitioned off from the alien device so hecan live through the atrocities of his team and hack the invader’s tech at thesame time—enough to put in his carefully recalibrated virus to take them thefuck down.

The trap faded around them once the virus his jackpotand breaks the neural-net connection, essentially making the invaders as potentas five-year olds throwing temper tantrums.

The following beat-down is enjoyableenough to make up for the hour spent reliving their worst moments and fears, inhaving those moments share with the rest of the team.

Well, not really.

But still, it’s a pretty sweet revenge fight.

As per usual, the JL appears out of the sky overSan Fran once the main body of fighting is pretty much over and done with.They’ve already started on clean-up with the local authorities when Superman,Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Zatanna, the Flash, Martian Manhunter, GreenArrow, and the Batman show up to take a look around at the nice pile of former mayhem.

It’s a surprise when Superman goes straight forSuperboy, eyes wide with concern, gripping the teen’s arms and asking quietlyif he’s been hurt, is he okay? Does he need to go to the fortress for somehealing time?

Wonder Woman is similarly concerned upon seeingWonder Girl wavering with some bloody patches on her elbows and ribs, but it’sthe younger hero’s eyes that really bother her. Without a word to therest of the Justice League, she takes one of her protégé’s arms around hershoulders and takes to the sky, intent on going to Paradise Island for theyounger to recuperate.

The Flash pretty much catches KF in anall-encompassing hug, blurting out how bad ass the younger speedster didon such terrible bad guys, how proud he is of what KF did here today,how they need to check him over before he collapses, and just let me feedand care for you, little bro.

Zatanna feels the sharp, aching throb of paincoming directly from Raven, the power radiating in shards of agony. As a fellow magic user, she has no qualms going directly to the youngerwoman and talking gently, almost begging her to come to New York and the quietroom set-up to negate magic and allow for healing.

Martian Manhunter, who’s known Gar for years,sees the strain, the trembling, flinching muscle, and just pulls theunresisting Beast Boy up in his arms with something spoken softly against themop of green hair, and flies off with a nod to the Bat.

Red Robin, beaten and abused, bloody andlimping, is glad the JL came for his team; the aftermath of this, the rawnessof it, the pain, would be a real bitch for them to deal with. They would needthe support and the time to come back from the slideshow of horrors they allexperienced.

He turns away from the members of his team beingtaken away by their mentors and friends, going up to Cyborg with a copy of thevirus he created to take the Insurgents down, and gave the JL membersome of the deets about the who, what, when, where, and why since, you know,invading aliens are usually part of the JL’s extensive repertoire ofass-kicking.

He finally puts the bo away now that clean-upcrews are underway and the invaders are being detained by A.R.G.U.S. Withthe job over and done with, he pulls a grapple in one bloody hand, fires it atthe convenient rooftop to take to flight. Their part is done and AmandaWaller’s people can figure out what the fuck to do with the aliens.

At least from here, he’s close enough to theTower to get half-way there without doing more damage to his ribs and theterrible concussion—

(V)

—Vash the Stampede, hitting the back of hisbrain pan. He needs antibiotics and first-aid to stop the bleeding as well aspossible other bad shit, like septic shock, from setting in (since,really, it’s ass) before he starts up adding this little sitch to theTitan’s records. Then he needs to get back on the hunt for those curiouslywell-funded labs getting Black Market equipment, and—

The slight paf of another zip line shakeshim a little in mid-air.

The shadow of the Bat is coming right up behindhim, dark cape flaring out behind the older vigilante so Red can plainly seeB’s arm already out to grab him around the middle and pretty much pull himright the hell off his own zip line.

“What the f—!?”

But they’re moving through the air, his wordslost to the rushing wind while B’s line attaches to the Batplane flyingoverhead, retracting to bring them closer to the dark silhouette in the sky.

With his back pressed up against the yellow ovaland symbol on B’s chest (and once upon a fucking time this meantsomething, didn’t it?), and that arm like iron around him, Red’s lip curls upin a sneer, shouting over the Batplane’s engine making his hurting jaw achejust that much more.

“What the hell do you need?” The unsaid can’tthis wait? Is right there.

B leans in to talk against his ear while they’restill in mid-air, probably not at all aware of the ringing so loudanyway, “I don’t need anything. Hold on.”

But through the lightheadedness, the strikes ofvertigo, the nausea rising up, Red still clenches his aching jaw and focuses onhow the hold around his gut hurting this much proves he’s pulledsomething probably important.

“Then I don’t want a ride to the Tower. I’ve gotit” Because he does. He’s had to have his own back for the better partof two years, before and after he brought B back from being lost in time andleft the Bats to figure their own shit out. He’s stayed away from their familywhen he’s in Gotham, stayed back because, well, Replacement, right?

Even if he and Jason are on better terms than ‘letme show you the pointy end of this knife,’ he’s still not even fucking goingthere.

The exit door to the Batplane slides open rightunder the cockpit. “I’m not giving you a ride to Titan’s Tower.” Is B’srumbling reply as they close in.

“Not all of us can jump from one crisis to thenext. Give me 48 hours and then you can email me with whatever intel you’reafter.” But he’s blinking behind the whiteouts, feeling sick and fuzzy, theinjuries that apparently aren’t going to just wait a minute.

“I don’t need any intel, Tim,” B snapsout, seemingly angry at something.

Red is too far into the pain game to really givea fuck about more of this little back-and-forth with his former partner.“Then what the hell do you want?” He snaps back, gripping the armaround him at the wrist, pulling his secondary grapple for, you know, justin case.

(Well, it’s not like they’re on good termsor anything—B has a Robin, so what’s this all about?)

“Stop it. You’re going to fall,” the arms getstighter with his meddling, and Red gasps out a pained noise when somethingtender is squeezed right along with it. His upper body flops over B’s arm in anattempt to curl up against the pain.

He barely realizes they’re up through the doorand into the cockpit while the plane glides smoothly on auto-pilot. The minuteB’s arm falls away, he can brace himself on the control panel and try tobreathe without puking.

Gloved hands turning him makes him jerk back astep as far as he can in the small space, pulling away.

“Just…just get me to the damn Tower,” ishoarse, blood on the Batplane’s floor now. Great, he’s going to probably get a rightbitching in his voicemail from Alfred explaining what a pain in the assbloodstains are to get out, Sir.

“I’m not taking you to the Tower,” Bgrowls back.

And there it is again, Batman is gripping hisbicep, pulling him closer, the whiteouts dipped down and the free hand rovingover the torn places in his suit.

“Then why the fuck am I in here, and—and stopthat. Shit!” His knees wobble, his move to pull back aborted when agloved hand presses along his left side. Bile rushes up into his throat,swallowed back down by sheer fucking willpower.

“The Titans just took on invading aliens,Tim. You need medical attention and time to recuperate. Your suit stood up tomost of it, but you’re bleeding.”

Again. There it is. B saidhis name more times in the last ten minutes than he has in the last year. What.The. Ever. Loving. Fuck. Is. Happening?

“Then—” he stutters out between panting breaths,fighting the dizziness and pending gray edges to his vision, “let me go to the fuckingTower so I can patch myself up.”

B seems to finally get that something isrotten in Denmark, and lets Red pull out of the hold. With his vision failingand go time eminent, Red fumbles back at the control panel in an attemptto slam the button that will open the door back for him to jump out of and firehis extra grapple. Then he’s going to be hitting the Medical floor in like, sixminutes tops because much longer and he’s going to be in oh shit landjust like when the Triad—

He misses on the first shot because B knocks hishand away and the exit stays closed.

“Wh-What the hell are you—?”

And sometimes, B is just that guy becausethe corresponding blow to his worst injury is such a fucking dickmove.

But it has the intended effect, showing how weakhe apparently is because his knees knock together and go out on him. He wouldhave ended up on the floor if B hadn’t swept him up like some fainting lily andkicked the co-pilot’s chair around with one foot to set him down in it.

“You’re in no shape to go back to the Tower,” Bmakes it statement punctuated with the last hit.

“…asshole…” he faintly gasps while the painmakes him clench his jaw against a noise.

“We’re going to talk when I’m not worried aboutinternal bleeding and broken bones. Since when have you been taking care ofinjuries this extensive on your own? I’m fairly sure a stipulation to joiningthe Titans was that you keep me updated when you get hurt.” B fills in, handspausing when he realizes the Red Robin’s suit design is…different. Verydifferent. The design has changed, along with the security traps (and hewonders when it happened. He should have the current designs of allhis sons’ suits, including armor schematics and the necessary details).

His Bat sense is going off about everything,more so than when Clark first picked him up from Gotham to inform him theTitans are in the fight of their lives because invading aliens managedto bypass the Watchtower’s systems.

He’d set the Batplane for follow them, alreadyworried about how Red Robin would be holding up while Clark sped them as fastas possible to San Francisco, meeting up with the other JL members on the way.

None of them had to say how worried they were,it was evident, even if you weren’t the so-called World’s GreatestDetective.

But the nagging something tugging at hisinner sense when Red shot his grapple without even a word to him isgetting stronger, is making him worry a hell of a lot more than he was even anhour ago.

He feels out the obvious injuries, even withRed’s hand weakly shoving his away.

“No internal bleeding, nothing broken. Thisconcussion is the bee’s knees thanks. A stop at the Tower to drop me offwould be just—” and yes, B, that was one of their agreements.Back when he was still Robin, when someone actually gave a fuck. Healmost comes out with that, but stutters to a halt because Batman gives nofucks about anything but flicking out a razor-sharp batarang and cuttingthe tunic right up the center, pulling away the dented, broken armor to get tothe body suit and main bleeders underneath.

“Tim, I said I’m not taking you there. No one isgoing back for the moment, and you need medical treatment, these look serious.”B already has the gloves and gauntlets off, “Batcomputer,” he turns slightlyand gets the acknowledging boop, “full body scan of Red Robin. Send results toAgent A.”

“N-No, no, not—” but his arms flop uselessly andthe six-minute window has already passed him up. It’s fail timeapparently.

Behind the whiteouts, B’s eyes narrow with thisconsistent fight. There’s something very wrong here, something wrong when hisformer Robin is fighting him tooth and nail when he’s half-loopy on blood lossand exertion. “Yes. There is no way in hell I’m leaving you in the Towerby yourself like this. Not going to happen, Tim. I am not goingto let you bleed out all over your computers.”

And B shoves his cowl back to show thoseelectric blue eyes, narrowed stubbornly when there’s my way or no waygoing down.

“Why,” he stutters when black replaces gray andhis brain fuzzes more, starts shutting down because of the impending owfuck,“the hell does it matter? I’m not your fucking responsibility anymore, right?”

He tries to sneer, tries to move, tries to snarland snap about why not a little bit of fuck-off for your day, butnothing is responding to command. Before he blacks out, though, he gets to see thelook of utter shock on Batman’s face, and well, the small surge of satisfactionat getting the drop on the Dark Knight leads him to the way—

Out

“Septic shock?” Dick gasps, utterly dumbfounded.

“Yes, Master Dick,” Alfred carefully works,aproned and gloved, cleaning the last of the ragged, raw injuries before hewould need to wrap them. The boy on the bed isn’t moving except for his chestrising and falling with slow, even breaths.

He does, however, press a button on the touchpadabove the bed in the Cave’s medical area to show the outline of a human bodywith a glaring red circle.

“It seems Master Timothy is no longer inpossession of the viscera necessary for fighting off infections.”

Bruce in only the body suit, Dick in sweats andt-shirt, and Damian without the domino all turn to Alfred.

And stare.

“You are saying he no longer has a spleen?” Damiverified, “and is thus more prone to illness?”

“That is precisely what the scans are showing,Master Damian, and I ran them several times to verify.”

The youngest Bat blinks once, blinks twice, andturns back to the unconscious form of Tim Drake lying still and silent. It wasbad enough the four of them received a nasty shock while peeling the RedRobin body suit off to reveal a mass of still-healing welts, burns, and brokenskin marring the span of Tim’s back (what the hell happened?) andthe other injuries in the process of healing, injuries that look suspiciouslylike torture on his upper body, arms, and hands; not to mention howAlfred huffs angrily at the visible curve of ribs standing out against paleskin, but finding out he also lost, you know, a semi-crucial body part sometimesince his last Bat-physical (hearing the date is the next shocker of thenight) is pretty much the last straw.

“I’m going to do some research. Let me know ifhe comes to, Alfred.” B turns away with a snarl, the muscles in his back andshoulders tight.

“I shall, Master Bruce. However, I have nointention of tying him down to the bed frame. Should I be detained with dinner,please refrain from using cuffs.”

“I’m not making any promises,” Bruce snaps back,already in his chair at the Batcomputer to start digging into the last sixmonths of Red Robin’s vigilante career and Tim Drake’s personal life.

Gingerly, Dick ruffles Damian’s hair and movesto sit on the medical bed by Tim’s hip, staring up at the closed eyes and slackfeatures. He doesn’t process Alfred taping gauze down on the current injuries,but picks up a bruised and battered hand to hold in both of his while lookingat a very obvious scar now that he knows some of what’s been going on inthe time since Tim has been back to the Manor after the Robin mantle went toDami.

(And Dick feels like a right bastardbecause he remembers coming up the stairs, thinking Tim might have been in hisold room after their thing with Ra’s people before B had been found—whenhe thought Tim might have come to his senses and come home to be RedRobin here with them…and found Tim’s room empty. His things moved out, theshelves missing his usual array of books and video games, no clothes in theclosets, no extra suits in the hidey holes, no shampoo in the shower ortoothpaste on the sink. The Flash shower curtain is gone, replaced by a genericone in most of the other guest rooms. And just turning in circles, the hardweight in his chest, the utter pain when he realized Tim never meant to comeback. He was already gone from the Cave where Alfred had patched him up,where Tim had told Dick specifically, “You’re my brother. I knew you’dcatch me.”)

He sighs, shoulders rising with the move. Hedoesn’t say anything as Alfred continues to dress the injuries and Tim sleepson.

It’s not very long before a sharp intake ofbreath from the computer draws their eyes, and B is typing furiously to getmore information. Hacking into the Tower’s mainframe is child’s play,especially when he has Vic doing the hard work.

Tim’s ghost drive, however, is yielding moreresults than he anticipated.

The video file labeled Triad makes hisstomach churn.

Dick leaves Tim to sleep off the drugs andantibiotics, for his fever to slowly come down under their ministrations. Hegrins a little at Damian asleep in the chair next to the medical bed and stepsover to the computer where Bruce is looking grim, fists clenched tight on thecontrol panel.

Dick almost asks, almost, until hecatches the video playing—

And watches Tim Drake take a whip to the backwhile their former Robin is screaming.

“Oh…Oh my God,” he blinks, chest tight,nausea rising up when the footage skips and the next scene is Tim being helddown by the arms and shoulders, the remains of his business suit ripped to givea span of bloody skin for the glowing hot iron bar to be set down.

He doesn’t know when he moved or when B got tohis feet while the two of them try very hard not to be sick as Tim screamedover and over on the security footage.

They stand together, silenced by horror as theslideshow continues, as Tim is tortured over and over, as one of their ownattempt to escape, gets to the control room and tries to get a communicationout to the outside world.

By the time they have the full picture of howthose marks got there and what Tim Drake had to go through, Bruce is deep inthe Bat, anger radiating from every pore.

Tim was abducted outside Wayne Enterprises ashis daytime persona, as Tim Drake, CEO, and none of them had known a damn thingabout it.

It’s almost forty-eight hours later.

The Bats are in from patrol and upstairs to dohuman things, like sleep and eat and bathe (because the sewers of Gotham are nastyno matter how many times you’ve been down there—the sitch never gets any better).B has scrubbed down and changed in the Cave, making sure he was free ofcontaminants before coming over to check on his still-sleeping Robin. Handsaccustomed to delivering pain are absurdly gentle when he lays a palm on theback of Tim’s neck, glad to see his temperature is finally getting back tonormal, and checking the IVs as well as the bandages on Tim’s healing back andnewer injuries on his side and knee. He ruffles the too-long hair gently beforegoing up to check quickly on Alfred and the boys before planning on coming backdown to stay close to Tim, hoping he might be stable enough to wake up and talkto them.

So the Cave is empty for the moment when themachines attached to the sensor clamped on Tim’s finger and the little stickypads on his chest start to pick up slightly. Not enough to trigger analert, just enough for him to blink open his bleary eyes riding the dredges ofpainkillers and sedatives.

It’s the Bat-cocktail of owfuck.

Really, he should have known better.

The fog is clearing out while his head flops onone side to look around and see where he’s—and what’s happ—how did—?

His head flops to the other side, eyes wideningwhen he realizes the big car is parked a little past the curtain, and on theother side of him, the Batcomputer looks the same, but there’s a few morethings on the control panel.

He gets the urge to violently hurl oncethe screeching overhead signals where he’s at just in case, you know, theremight be any doubt.

The air in his chest chokes off, leaving himcoughing hard for a few seconds, enough that the pulsox beeps once in warningand he struggles to get himself under control.

The haze of painkillers is still there, but nothingshort of death is going to stop him. Instead, he uses the lead to pull thelittle machine close to him and manages to pop the casing off. A few wires and boom,he takes the sensor off his finger and the monitor keeps going. It takesmaneuvering for him to sit up enough to reach the heart monitor and do prettymuch the same.

There’s cameras everywhere, but he’s sure no onewould be watching (because why would they?) as he stands on stiff,aching legs, manages to stumble a little before righting himself.

The knee isn’t going to get better anytime soon,so he’s good to be limping around because at least that means he’s onhis feet.

The Red Robin suit they must have taken off ofhim is folded neatly on a workstation table, easy to pick up.

He feels immensely better with the body suit on(even if the pressure on still-healing injuries is about a bitch, damn);boots, gloves and gauntlets, harness and utility belt. It’s enough to rock.

A domino goes on while he nabs his somewhatstitched back together cape, but the armored tunic is totes a lost cause.

Bummer.

With the machines beeping steadily behind him,Tim leaves the tunic, makes his way further down into the Cave, favoring theleg, moves as straight-backed as possible to keep the marks on his back frompulling and getting sore all over again, as been the pattern in the last monthsince he’s been back from a certain little vacay.

(And it’s fucked how B probably saw thosemarks isn’t it? Just another check in the who gives a shit category…but,the old memorial case with Jason’s Robin suit is still there where it’s alwaysbeen—and a double-take confirms it. His first Robin suit is in a new case nextto it. Mother. Fucker does it makes his chest hurt.)

The line of just in case vehicles is inthe same place it always was. A crappy beater for Matches Malone, a van forpick-ups, an Ambulance in case shit gets real. A covered car in the backcorner that is terribly, achingly familiar, and his eyes skitter away from it,just like he did with the memorial cases.

Instead, he goes to one of the four Ducati’sserviced and ready to rock, lifts up the seat while balancing on his good leg.Keys fall into his palm, so score.

His hip only hitches slightly when he throws thebad leg over the bike so the good one can steady it, and the bruises tomorroware going to be fucking beautiful.

But for the moment, all good. He’ssitting down at least, and flips the bike on, raises the bad leg to start theengine—

When Dami drops down from the ceiling vent andlands a few feet in front of him at a crouch.

No suit, no domino, but the pose is all Robin.

A Robin in his pjs, but then, well, there’sschool and shit in the morning isn’t there?

“Drake,” a low, almost-question.

“Nice to see you too,” he smirks with oldbitterness, just waiting for it.

Dami’s eyes go from the whiteouts to the bikeand back up. “This…is not a favorable course of action,” is said morecarefully than he can remember the Demon ever being.

“What now?” Because seriously, what now?

“You have been recovering from septic shock,”the youngest informs him, still in that crazy careful tone. “Among otherinjuries. It would be best if you stayed where you could be monitored shouldyou relapse.”

Now he thinks he might be more loopy on the I’mfucked up cocktail than initially assessed. Things just aren’t…aren’tmaking sense here.

“I’m in a multiverse aren’t I?” Is a stupid butkind of valid question.

Damian, however, is not amused.

“You are a fool. This is not surprising. However,as I have been informed, your team stopped an alien invasion. That if nothingelse would merit time, Drake.”

“Telepaths that want to take over our world are assholes.Haven’t you figured that out yet?” He comes back easily, “and I have a place torecoup. It would be nice to be on my way there right about now.”

The bad leg comes down, shooting a thrill ofpain up, but fuck it. Really. He needs to get out of here before JasonTodd comes around to give him a bro fist or something else just ascrazy.

The engine purrs to life against his thighs.

Again, it’s opposite day because thatlittle brat is leaning against the handlebars, scowling and talking over theengine instead of doing things like, you know, moving.

“I would not do this if I were you.”

He blinks behind the whiteouts. “I don’t knowwhat the fuck is going on here, but this is getting to creep-tasticsproportions.” He leans over the handlebars as much as he can without someserious owfuck hitting, “you wanted me gone, Demon. Riff raff,remember? That cut zip line? You think I need a written invitation toget the fuck out?”

Dami’s eye widen a fraction before narrowing,the little asshole leaning in as well like they’re going to fight it out forsome crazy reason because this is what they all wanted butwere too chicken-shit to tell him.

“Dick’s too nice to say it, but you think hereally has to after all this time?”

“Grayson—” Dami starts, voice raised to be heardover the purring engine.

“Never wanted me either. I guess you and JasonTodd were right all along. Want to gloat about it? How about you do it overSkype so I can get back to my life?”

Dami growls, baring his teeth in a snarl, “no,you fool. Grayson has missed you unbearably in the last twoyears. He has attempted to keep track of you while you searched for Father andthen later when you re-joined the Titans. He is the one that built the case foryour Robin suit.”

And just…what the ever-loving fuck?

“I am aware of how things were left whenI began my own time as Robin, Drake. I am aware of—”

“Get off.” Because now he’s blinking behind thewhiteout, his eyes getting hot and wet fast. “Get the fuck off.”

“No!” Damian snarls back, gripping thehandlebars tighter, like he has every intention of holding on. “I refuseto let you leave like this!”

And so, apparently it’s time to spell it out.“No one gives a shit if I’m here or not.” He shoves himselfstanding, old, buried pain rearing up from the terrible place in his brain panwhere he’d buried it all just so he could keep moving. “They let meinherit the cape because I was an asshole kid and found out theirsecret. They let me keep it because I did an alright job at keeping Bfrom fucking himself up like Robin is supposed to do. And he took me inbecause my fucking father was murdered when my identity was compromised.It’s ‘adopt an orphan syndrome,’ Damian. That’s it. I fucking Get.It. Now.”

Those eyes narrow, color rising to the youngervigilante’s face. But Tim leans down, blinking rapidly behind the whiteoutbecause he’s not going to give him or any of them that fuckingsatisfaction.

His voice is low, almost angry if it didn’tcrack, giving away more than he wants, especially to Damian. “Besides,why would they want the replacement when they’ve got the real son in thecape anyway, right? You said that, and you were right, weren’t you?”

“N-none of that—Drake…Timothy, youdon’t honestly,” and the twelve year old almost looks his age for once, “youdon’t honestly believe that.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up in a veryunfunny smirk, “I’m a detective, Damian. I don’t believe anything until I haveevidence.”

The younger Bat sputters a moment, looking oddlyshell-shocked, but he doesn’t let go, refuses to give up, “evidence? Openyour eyes, Drake. Father ordered the Justice League to attend your battleas soon as he knew, made Kent come to pick him up as he knew it would be thefastest way to get to you.”

“What part of aliens wasn’t clear? Thatis usually JL territory, we just happened to call dibs.”

Dami’s fists tighten around the handlebars, “Ihave been Robin for three years. Three years, Drake. If there isanything I have learned in that time, it is how Father would not leave any ofhis Robins behind. Not even you.”

Welp, that’s going to be a very hardeventual realization for the kid. But really, it isn’t any of his businessanymore. None of this is.

He sinks back down slowly, painfully becauseit’s time to go. “Get out of the way.”

The hair on the back of his neck, however, cutshim off, makes his straighten up again on the bike and rev up the engine. Damiisn’t moving, but is just staring at him looking like he might pull out thatwicked katanna for a little sliced n’ diced vigilante rather than dealwith his shenanigans. Not like it’s nothing new.

But the ghost sensation has drawn the brat’sattention as well, those eyes drawn over Tim’s left shoulder.

Without turning to look, he gives the standard,“thanks for the pick-up. Let me know when you need the next batch of intel.We’ll have a crime-fighting party with confetti and everything.”

The hand on his bicep is something he hadn’tanticipated, startling him to look up at Bruce’s bare face and angry eyes.

Oh shit. Batman’s not a happy camper. Time tohit the dirt.

From his other side, Dick comes out of nowhereand reaches around him to turn the bike off and take the key out of the ignition.

Oh, so that’s how it is? After all theyears he put into maintaining the bikes and cars just like everyone else—

“Like I said,” he deadpans, trying very, veryhard not to get pissed off at the snub, “thanks for the pick-up. I’ll gettogether whatever data you’re looking for when—”

“Get off the bike, Tim,” Bruce emphasizes theorder with a tug to his arm.

“Seriously?” Well, there goes the best ofintentions, “I’ll bring it back if this is a problem.”

“Not the point. Get the hell off the bike.”

He shoves himself to his feet, already planningon hitting up Kon in a quick text just to get a ride out of here as fast asfucking possible, itching to jerk his arm out of B’s hold (and dammit,he hates to do that now that Clark isn’t being an asshat extraordinaire). So helets it ride for the moment since, well, he pretty much shouldn’t be hereanyway, so the lecture is probably going to be fucking spectacular.

His hip hitches again when he swings his legback over the bike, but it’s only slightly painful this time around. Nope,there’s more pain elsewhere that has nothing to do with skin and soft,fleshy bits.

He in no way is prepared for Bruce pulling hisarm up and around those massive shoulders, bending down enough to be aboutTim’s height. The limp isn’t as bad with B supporting him with an arm aroundhis waist (under the worst of the older marks) and gripping the wrist, walkinghim right the fuck back into the depths of the Cave where Alfred is waitingwith hands properly folded behind him.

“Ah, the patient is awake,” Alfred is calm,cool, and collected as per usual. “Perhaps a stronger dose of painkillersshould have been in order.”

“Not necessary,” he fills in shortly, pullingaway from Bruce as soon as possible, a passing glance off the machines he’dreconfigured. “Thanks for patching me up, Alfred.”

The butler sighs through his nose and it’s sopainfully familiar. “Of course, Master Tim. If you would be sokind as to change clothing, the bandages will need to be checked again.”

He holds up a hand, “again, not necessary. I’mon my way out—”

Dick shoves sweats and a t-shirt in his chest,jaw clenched tight enough that a muscle is jumping there, and it’s fine,he gets it. Dick doesn’t want him there. He really doesn’t need this—

“I’m trying to be out of your hair,” hegrowls back at the former Batman and current Nightwing. “I didn’t ask tocome here. Not my bad.”

If anything, Dick’s expression gets even angrier.Angry enough that the hands holding the clothes are trembling finely until Timtakes them just to get the older vigilante to step back.

“Drake,” and it’s really saying something when Damianis the one stepping between them, trying to keep, well, whatever peacedistance can realistically bring. “This is difficult to believe, but there is agrave misunderstanding happening here.”

His eyebrows draw together, head tilted down tothe youngest, but he wisely remains silent because there’s volumes hecould say about that.

“Do you need assistance, Master Tim?” Alfredcuts in, trying to divert the brewing storm raging in Dick and Bruce’sexpressions, “I should say some of your injuries must be rather painful at thisjuncture. Your back, for example—”

“I’ve got it. Thank-you.”

“Very good, Sir. Once you have changed, I have adelightful pot of coffee and breakfast—”

But those words make his head snaparound, “coffee?”

Because yes. The answer is always yes.

Alfred hums knowingly, “indeed. I believe it isthe Sumatra brand you seem to favor?”

And dammit. Just, dammit Alfred.

In reply, he limps back to pull the curtainclosed in the sectioned-off medical area, flopping the sweats and t-shirt downon the gurney. Deep, cleansing breath, and he reverses order, taking off glovesand gauntlets, boots, utility belt and harness, cape and dom, leaving the bodysuit for last (since there’s the most owfuck of the day).

“Tim? You okay?” B’s voice is softer, floatingover the partition, his silhouette against the curtain.

“I’m fine,” he taps on his wrist computer withone arm through the t-shirt. Getting the sweats on is painful but it’s whateverreally, the knee isn’t going to get any better so no use whining about it.

Instead, he puts the wrist computer back on hisforearm and comes out a la civvies, his too-long hair probably wrecked,but with a KO of approximately two days?

He shoves the curtain back, cracking his neck,and starting to move to intercept Alfred’s approach. “Bandages are clean, soI’m good. Thanks.”

The butler tisks and gently simply steers MasterTim back to the gurney, “I will need to check your levels as well as theinjuries you are unable to see, Master Tim. You certainly cannot assessyour back unless you’ve taken to perform feats of magic?”

The others approach, watching with grave facesas the butler allows a cup and saucer inside the medical area, an excuse tokeep Tim’s hands busy so work can be done.

“My levels are f—” The smell hits like anaphrodisiac and his eyes fall half-mast just because coffee.

“Do not say ‘fine.’ For a young man without thenecessary organ to build up proper immunities, then I would dare to say yes.However, for a crime-fighting vigilante, your white cell count is woefully deficient.”

Oh. So that’s whatthis is about?

Shit.

“I’ve had enough time to adjust.” Is all hebites out as the butler gloves up, winds a stethoscope around his neck.

When B’s hands plant on his hips like he iswinding up for the mother of all lectures, and Damian puts a hand toDick’s forearm to stop him from saying whatever might be ready to comeout of his mouth, Tim realizes how much of a thing this might be.

The butler, however, just frowns, “then I willpose the obvious question, Master Tim. How many episodes of septic shock haveyou experienced before now?”

His jaw clenches, eyes close briefly becausewhen he got off that fucking ship—

The pinch to his inner elbow jars him out of it(luckily) or he might still be smelling stagnant water and imagine the worldrocking under his feet.

“Twice,” and he leaves it at that, going morepale at the bits flashing through his brain pan.

Alfred removes the syringe, tapes a cotton ballto the small wound. “Twice, Sir?” is quiet, neutral.

Tim swallows, looking at the span of wallinstead of any of them, “yeah.”

“Once recently I’m afraid?” And Alfred sets theblood sample aside, easily moves a gloved hand to be under Master Tim’s stillholding the delicate saucer. The minute clattering stops when he does.

“Yeah,” hoarse, but fuck yes.

“Your back, Tim?” now Alfred’s tone is movinginto soothing, someone that can (used to be) be trusted.

Still staring at the wall, keeping himselftogether, Tim gives a short, pointed nod.

“What—” Dick steps a little closer to his side,not enough to set him off, but enough to reach out, slowly, easy, “who did thatto you, Timmy?”

His shoulders tense with the contact, and heblinks hard, shaking himself out of it, shaking himself the fuck back tothe present. He lifts the cup and takes a drink of utter heaven.

It helps to steady him, to keep his head outof the two weeks he spent being tortured as Tim Drake, CEO, and the more recentfight with dick bag aliens.

“I took care of it.”

“That doesn’t tell us anything,” Dick counters.“Timmy…you were tortured.”

And well, yes. Yes, he was.

“Yup,” is his soft admission, staring down intothe depths of his coffee while Alfred moves around behind him and the shirtinches up his spine, making his hackles rise just slightly. “I was.”

And he knows, he knows, Alfred was tryingto be careful, wasn’t trying to do anything, but the wounds, the memories, allof it was still so new and raw, that when the touch hits the wrong spot,reminds him of a burning iron bar pressed against his shoulders, he chokes andmoves without thinking.

The cup and saucer crash to the floor, and he isup, moving away, spinning in mid-air, landing at a crouch with his legand back screaming, his eyes wide, hand automatically poised in a nerve strike.And he can fight, he can fight, and he can win. He can save them thistime, save them all, and he can—

He can, he will.

Whizzing and moving, focused on not throwing up,focused on not stopping.

Bruce is gripping his face between those massivepalms from one blink to the next, and Tim realizes he must have been movingagain because they aren’t standing by the medical area anymore.

Instead, he’s pinned down on one of the big matsused for practice and training half-way across the Cave, the vinyl soft andworn-in under the arm Bruce has pinned at the wrist. His back is fucking agonybecause he’s laying down on the healing injuries. Worse, he’s shaking likefuck, the coffee in his stomach rolling with it.

“Tim! You need to stop. Just. Stop.”

But it’s just as bad because he can’t be helddown.

That…he’s not good with that, and hiships take over regardless of owfuck, bucking up enough to get Bruce offhim so he can turn over, land on all fours and gag.

“Fuck…fuck…fuck…fuck…”

He gets a million vigilante points for notthrowing up his coffee.

A. Million.

Plopping down on his ass to try getting air backinto his lungs, however, is seriously the best idea for the moment even if he’sshaky as fuck and probably embarrassed the shit out of himself.

(Regretting letting him back in now,aren’t you?)

Dick kneels in plain sight, ducking down tocatch Tim’s rapidly blinking eyes. “Hey, just me,” is meant to be soft andsoothing.

It’s not.

Instead, Tim closes his eyes again it and triesto calm himself but his brain is too fuzzy, still half-stuck on the ship, inthe mind trap, in his team’s memories—

“…something for me, Tim. Let me know you’rewith us.”

He doesn’t open his eyes so he can’t see whateverexpression is on those faces.

“Should have just…dropped me at the goddamnedTower,” he manages hoarsely, bringing his knees up to hold his heavy head.

Bruce, refusing to be diverted, gets closeenough to wrap his long fingers around Tim’s ankle slowly, carefully. “No,” heclaims slowly, mind working furiously at the flow of new and disturbinginformation, “no, Tim. I’m glad, very glad, I brought you home.”

The laugh coming out of Tim’s bent head ishalf-way to a sob (home? There hasn’t been a home in a while actually),and Bruce’s hand moves up to grip into a calf instead, sliding subtly closer onhis knees.

Dick paces right beside him, being absurdlycareful, recognizing the reactions, the instincts Bruce bred into all hisRobins to fight when you’re out of all other options. It’s knee-jerkreaction to any situation.

“You blanked out for a few minutes there, Timmy.It looked like,” he hesitates slightly from saying it even if he has plentyof experience dealing with this kind of thing, “you were having a flashback.”

“I don’t talk about it,” is the hoarse reply,the horrible panting sounds finally easing down.

“I think we’re going to try checking over yourinjuries again,” Dick gingerly touches a few fingers to Tim’s limp hand,“without trying to set you off, okay? We’ll…Timmy, we’ll be right here withyou.” His finger firm a little, squeeze Tim’s fingers before the hand jerks outof his hold, the leg moving away from Bruce.

Tim scrambles backwards on the mat, shoves tohis feet because ignoring pain is something he does like a boss, but pity?Oh, he gets all kinds of pissed off about it.

Just ask Kon. The impressive choke hold issomething the super is probably never going to forget.

“I don’t need checked over. I don’t needanything other than a way to get back to my damn Tower—” and the fuckaway from here is implied.

Because really. They can stop this moundof variable bullshit anytime now.

“I don’t need whatever in the hell this,” andhis hands flutter around for a second, “this shit is all of a sudden. I lead mydamn team, and it doesn’t effect how I work. How I’ve workedfor the last few years. I’m. Fucking. Good.”

Bruce’s mouth flattens into a grim line, staringat his third Robin, the son that took his name without qualm, the son he’d letget too far the fuck away because he felt like he didn’t belong in hisown home. And Dick might share the burden of that, the younger vigilantenearly radiating beside him facing Tim down, ready to stop him if he tries tobolt.

And Bruce doesn’t feel bad about Damian andAlfred slowly coming up behind Tim to box him in, takes a moment to beratehimself for thinking he was doing the right thing in giving Tim the spacehe thought the former Robin needed to heal. The same space Dick needed when hehad to move on from the Robin mantle.

But he’d inadvertently caused both hisformer Robins nothing but pain by giving them the space to throw their bodiesinto the Mission to try and escape the devastation, the loss.

It’s another black mark under his name, but ifanything, Bruce, the Bat, has no qualms rectifying his mistakes.

And he’s perfectly fine starting now.

“Tim,” interrupts the snarling commentary on howRed Robin isn’t fucking anything up (which is unnecessary because Brucealready knows it), and makes the injured bird abruptly pause. “Let meget this straight.”

The third Robin stops, seems to mentally re-set,like when they started up a new case and the personal lives had to be left inthe Cave before they got into the big car for the upcoming night. It’s enoughof the old Tim that Bruce takes a few cautions steps, holding up fingersto tick off so he’s got Tim’s attention on the visual.

“You were kidnapped as your daytime persona, asTim Drake, not Red Robin—”

Oh shit. Well, World’s GreatestDetective. Of course he’d find out. It happened in his city.

“—they tortured you on a ship in the middle ofthe ocean. You escaped, brought them down, and turned them in to severalbranches of authorities. Four days ago, you showed up as Red Robin when theInsurgents hit Earth’s atmosphere. You went into a fight with your team againsta psychic horde without calling for back-up. And you won. Allright so far?”

“Sounds…about right.”

Bruce hums, nods, “and…why do you thinkI would questioning how effective you are as a vigilante?”

Wait.

Tim’s mouth works but nothing comes out because,well, point.

“I have no idea why you’re trying to convince mewhen I’m already well aware how incredible you are in the field. I don’tneed any other justifications. What I need to know,” and Bruce unfoldshis arms, hands loose at his sides, trying to look less intimidating so Tim’shackles won’t rise again, “is when your spleen was removed and what criminalcaused it. What I want to know is if you’ve seen anyone to help youthrough the trauma you went through on that ship. What I want to know is whyyou keep telling me you’re fine and you handle it when you are obviously notfine. No one, Tim, no one could be after all that.”

And the younger vigilante stares up at him,taller than the last time Bruce had a chance to really see him, withnarrow eyes that are already calculating his next moves. B knows it because hesees Tim’s eyes slide to Alfred and Damian, slide over to Dick before comingback to him. It’s saying something when the Bat is hovering at the fore of hismind, ready for another mad attack if Tim flips back into those flashbacks andstarts fighting by instinct.

“What I need to know is,” B counterssoftly, “why you didn’t come home when you needed to.”

When Tim stays silent, when his beaten, batteredbody gets as straight as it can, Bruce sees enough, knows enough.

He nods slowly, like he gets it, whateversilent message Tim is putting out, and returns that intense look, sees so muchhidden under the exterior that he should have picked up long before this verymoment.

“You three go upstairs. Have some downtime,” hewaves a shooing hand at Dick, Damian, and Alfred, “Tim didn’t get his coffee,and I honestly don’t need any more caffeine induced contingencies on my hands.”

“Bruce—” is Dick’s desperate attempt tostay because now he knows how much of this, how much of it isright on his head.

“Dick. Go have some downtime.”

Dami isn’t happy, is looking with his headtilted up, those dark eyes all for the scowl on Tim’s face, the sneer.

Alfred, however, steps between them, MasterTimothy and Master Bruce to break the stare down and lift a fresh cup andsaucer into the younger vigilante’s hand. It breaks the oldest man’s heart whenMaster Tim…hesitates.

But the hands are steady when the coffee istaken, and the young Master is looking carefully away from the butler, a musclein his jaw flickering.

“Thank-you,” is said softer than the rest.

“What else could I do, Master Tim? My life isdedicated to caring for my family, and that includes you.” A small pat to theyounger man’s head while the angry, defensive expression falls to wide-eyed andslack, like the younger Master is genuinely surprised. The saucer isheld tighter in busted fingers when Timothy’s spine snaps straighter and heblinks rapidly, trying to harden himself, pull his strength around him like acloak so none of them can see what abject pain he is in—how he obviouslywas very certain he no longer belonged here, with them all.

“Oh Tim,” the butler sighs sadly, gently, “thismay be untoward, so forgive me, but it is so nice to see you. As much as wehave missed, as much as you have suffered and succeeded, I am still so happy tohave you home.”

The reaction is those wide eyes, the true tellto Master Timothy’s thoughts returning to his face and immediately seeking outany deception on the butler’s part, any lies or placations, any shred ofevidence to support his previous theories.

Alfred smiles, just a small curve of his lowerlip, when the younger man’s shoulders lose a small bit of tension, just enoughto prove he found no lies here. When he can have just a hint of belief. It’sjust enough for Alfred to fit a hand on the younger man’s shoulder and squeezewith infinite gentleness before he’s herding two of his other charges up into theManor, casting a glance back at the long line of Master Bruce’s tense backbefore he and Master Dick exchange a very concerned look.

And they leave Tim and Bruce in the Cave withthe fluttering of bats, the gentle hum of working equipment, with damagedsuits, and healing bodies, with injuries and trauma.

It’s such a painful thing for Bruce, staring atTim and remembering a younger kid standing in the same place with the Rover his heart, the suit of his Robin and that crazy, wide grin in anticipationfor nightfall when they could move together.

When Tim’s team was Batman and Robin.

“None of this is necessary,” and it’s RedRobin’s voice, unshakeable and reliable. A leader. A vigilante.

And not the person Bruce wants to talk toright at this moment.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce cuts off that train ofthought, seeing past the denials and old pain, seeing past everythingTim is spitting out, the abject hurt, the theory that maybe, maybethey’d just been-been using him all this time. That he was just a kid ina cape or something just as ridiculous. “I’m sorry it got this far. I’m sorrynone of us, me or Dick or Alfred jumped in to remind you that you will alwayshave a home here, no matter what. There’s no excuse for it, Tim,absolutely none.”

The younger vigilante frowns harder, his thoughtprocesses obvious to the World’s Greatest Detective.

“Once Damian and I could realistically worktogether, Dick left out of Gotham to trail the Titans and see if he could atleast talk to you, but the team was moving fast, so he wanted to waituntil you were in town again. But, regardless, we let this go on for toolong, letting you get further and further away without checking in, withoutcoming back.”

“I didn’t need to.” Tim interjects, firming hisjaw, still staying as far inside the mask as he possibly can, trying to protecthimself.

And Bruce finally sees it.

“And you don’t have to do this,” the youngervigilante puts the cup and saucer down immediately, eyes never losing that hardedge, “at all. It’s not necessary at this point. I’m still going to be theintel guy, the IT solution. I’ll still come when you call just like I’ve alwaysdone.”

“That’s not good enough.” Bruce insistsback, arms loose by his sides, “it was never supposed to be needed over wanted,and it isn’t like that. You won’t believe me until you have evidence, I knowalready, but Tim,” and Bruce comes up on him, not the stalk of the Bat or thestride of the daytime persona, it’s all Bruce Wayne—

Dad.

He’s careful but firm, hands tilting his son’sface up a little, taking in the widening eyes of surprise, “Tim, you arealways, will always be one of my sons. Just like Dick and Jasonand Damian. That’s what you agreed to when you took on the mask. You becamemine and the Batman’s, our Robin, our partner, our son, and yes,yes this is necessary. It’s completely and totally necessary becausealong the way the important things got pushed to the wayside, and it’s so farfrom fine that I can’t even begin to list the problems here.”

And the younger vigilante has the most probablereaction Bruce can predict.

He fights.

“Bullshit,” is hoarse, angry when Tim shovesaway, steps back, “and I don’t need bullshit, Bruce. You think Idon’t get it? I was the kid that figured out your secret, you hadto keep me, to keep me quiet about it. So of fucking course you’d let mewear the R. What would I have done if you hadn’t? Just because I got goodat it doesn’t mean I don’t fucking recognize how it never should have been me.It should have been Jason and then Damian. It should have been blood,not some fucking kid you never wanted.”

And God it hurts, these things tearingout him like fucking poison, like rancid bile he can finally vomit up, to get outof him.

“And you did good. You did great, Bruce,dealing with me. You really did. You did the best you could under thecircumstances,” and fuck, yes, he means it because Bruce was there forhim when he was Robin, when Dad died, when his world was going to shittime and time again. Bruce put up with his crap more than anyone in his entire life—evenhis real Dad. “I appreciate it, all the shit from back then. You don’t—” andhis chest hitches, but he grinds his teeth, straightens his back for it, “youdon’t even know how much I needed you. How much I respect you, how muchI wanted to be your partner and friend, and you gave me that, Bruce. You didthat for me, but…but your real son has the cape now, just like italways should have been, and I understand that. This,” and his handswaffle back-and-forth while he looks away, tries to choke down the bitternessall these realizations still leave behind, “this is the way it should havehappened. This is—” not okay, never fine, not really, “how itshould be.”

But when he looks back, chances a glance, hejerks a little because Bruce’s expression is—

(Is there some fear toxin somewhere? What thehell?)

The hands at Bruce’s sides are clenching intotight fists, his forearms cording, muscles getting tight.

“How long have you felt like this?” Theoldest vigilante demands in a low, dangerous voice, “how long do youthink I’ve just been tolerating you? How could you even— Jesus,Tim.”

But really, he’s the detective, right? “Iforced my way in,” he deadpans, “you never chose me, Bruce.”

And even though he’s come a long way from thatRobin to now, he’s still not fast enough to dodge Batman.

Nope. That’s not happening.

Because Bruce is across the span separating themin a skiff of shadows, literally picking him up off his feet with an arm aroundhis waist below the healing whip marks, the other hand buried in the hair atthe back of his head, pushing his face into Bruce’s neck and shoulder (and he’sshaking, Bruce, Batman, the unstoppable, the indomitable, is shaking).

The move is so out of what he expected,so unpredictable, Tim’s eyes are wide, just blinking wetly, hands up toautomatically brace himself on Bruce’s biceps.

“In…in the beginning, I was terrifiedof you,” Bruce blinks back his own wet eyes against the side of Tim’s too-longhair, “I was so scared of getting another innocent kid hurt, and you were…youwere so smart and so brave. You were fearless, Tim. You were perfect forthe job, but if I got you hurt, if I got you killed, if this world losteverything you are because of me and my Mission… then there would be noredemption. And I—” and Bruce grips him tighter, breathes in slowly,presses the side of his face into Tim’s hair harder, “I couldn’t lose you too.I couldn’t lose you, Tim.”

And that. To hear that it wasn’t becauseof Jason Todd, to hear that he was valued back then for himself, has Tim’sheart give a painful throb in his chest, makes him hold on to Bruce like he wasstill that Robin.

“In the beginning, I didn’t want anotherkid in danger. I didn’t want another person’s life in my hands, I didn’twant anyone else to suffer because of my choice to do this, to be Batman, to bethe crime fighter Gotham needed. So…so you-you were partially right. Backthen, I didn’t want you involved. When you helped solve Dick’s caseand-and you gave me no choice, Tim. You proved to me you were everything Ineeded Robin to be, everything Dick was, everything Jason was, everythingDamian is learning to be. There was no way I could let you go.”

And God, to hear that, just to hearthat from Bruce.

It’s more than he ever expected.

“You’re more than just a kid in a cape.You always were. You were always the kid I needed, the kid that groundedme, the kid that was so much like me that you should have been a Waynefrom the get-go. Just like Dick and Jason. You taught me just as much as Itaught you, and even though I never wanted to overstep my boundaries, I neverwanted to try and take your Dad away from you because—” and Bruce has to pause,has to let his eyes spill over because back then? Back then when Jack was anass, was a damn terrible father, Bruce still couldn’t fight him because, “—becauseif mine had lived, even if he couldn’t understand me and what I grew into…Istill would have at least had him.”

And Tim bites down on his lip hard enough todraw blood, but it doesn’t stop his eyes from spilling over too, from his armsmoving to wrap around Bruce’s shoulders and hold the fuck on.

“But,” Bruce breathes in, rolls his eyes upwardto try and calm down, “but when you still lost him, I…There was no question,Tim. There never was. You were my son just as much as his, and there was nevera question as to where you belonged, that you have a home here. Not-nota room, not a cot in the Cave, not a locker for your gear. Your home,Tim. And I…I thought I was helping, letting you be the vigilante you needed tobe. When you brought me back and it was Damian in the R, I… I understood why,but I still missed you. I was still…upset with Dick, doing thatwithout telling you, without giving you an opportunity to have your say. I wastrying to give you time to stop hurting, to grow from it. I was trying not topush you too hard, to make it hurt worse.”

Gentle movement, Bruce walking carefully towardthe medical gurney still carrying Tim without even straining, still holding himclose, still so painfully angry at himself for how long these thingsmust have been buried in Tim’s psyche, how all of it must have pushed thisyoung man to his breaking point.

“And I…” Bruce closes his eyes briefly as ithitches, “and I failed you, Tim. I’m so sorry that I failed you as your Dad.I’m sorry you ever thought I only wanted to keep you from telling mysecret because it was never about that.”

But Tim, hanging there, limply, pain a dull redthrob in his brain pain, gripping Bruce around the shoulders tight,hides his face away from the realizations, from the things he never imagined.

Bruce folds himself down and rocks justslightly, comforting them both a little with the motion, “and you’re not goingto believe all this. Not for a while. I know you, young man, and you’regoing to need time to believe in me again, to believe in the family, andthat’s-that’s okay. That’s completely understandable. I’ll give you as muchtime as you need, but goddammit, Tim, I’m not letting you getthat far out of my sight again. I’m not ever going to let you go. Whether youlike it or not, you’re stuck with us, kid.”

He doesn’t laugh or chuckle, still in a state ofshock since he really didn’t imagine this in his future, or well ever.

After all this time, all the bad guys andterrible night, all the sacrifices and job well dones, he’d pretty much figuredit was really…over.

This is a whole lot of unexpected that his brainpan can’t handle all at once. He needs time to think about it, to review theevidence.

“Give me a chance, Tim,” is breathed gently againsthis ear, “don’t give up on me yet. Please, don’t give up on me.”

“You’re an idiot,” he finds himself saying backwith a scratchy throat, “I didn’t give up on you when the world thought youwere dead. Like I’m going to start now?”

And Bruce, B, the Batman, just breathesout in the quiet dim of the Cave, holds this almost nineteen-year-old on hislap like he used to do to Dick when the kid was on overload or he’s finallygotten Damian to just deal with it.

“When I really believe you mean that, I’ll let yougo back to Titan’s Tower.”

That does earn a snickerbecause really, Bruce?

“Can you just—” and the World’s GreatestDetective hesitates for a second, not sure how hard he wants to push whenthere’s been some progress made tonight.

“…you want to know about the spleen thing,don’t you?”

Bruce pats the uninjured leg a little and nodswith Tim’s head tucked under his chin.

Closing his eyes, Tim sighs out through hisnose. But, well, to start gathering evidence, this might just be the way tostart.

#winter answers #with horrible pain and angst #and BATDAD #tim drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #the JL #the Titans #fracture #what-if #you kind of need to read it to get some of this #it's sad and slightly hopeful #hurt!tim #my fic #my writing #long post

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