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gold-and-rubies · 3 years

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In It For The Long Haul - Chapter 1

Okay, here’s chapter one. It’s under the cut. It’s in the (third person) perspective of my sole survivor, Claudia. Warnings include strong language, graphic violence, and puking/dry heaving. If anyone needs me to add another warning tag, or has advice on it, please let me know. Also this is the first fic I’ve ever committed to. I wrote this back in March, so if the quality is different than what you’re used to, that’s why.

In less than twenty-four hours Claudia Flynn had experienced more death than most would in their entire lives. The world she had known had been destroyed by atomic fire. She had lost her friends and family at the flip of a switch, or perhaps the press of a button. Then those who had made it into the vault with her had lost their lives to a malfunction, except for one family, a couple and their infant son. The child had been kidnapped and the father was fatally shot in the process. The mother did not fare much better. She had died within her first few hours in the wasteland. The poor woman did not even get a chance to save her baby. Claudia had promised her that she would find her baby, not just for Nora’s sake, but also for her own. She needed a reason to push on after losing so much.

Her new acquaintances had given her another reason to press on. The people who Nora died trying to help needed more than to be saved. They had needed a home, and Claudia was not going to leave them hanging. Claudia led them to Sanctuary, and helped them get settled there. With help from the handyman Sturges and Nora’s old Mister Handy bot, Codsworth, she started to make the place livable again. After a week though, being in her old home started getting to her. It was a stark reminder of everything she had lost. A truth she was not ready to face. Noticing how antsy she was getting, Preston Garvey asked her if she was up for doing Minuteman duties instead. Claudia had accepted the offer appreciatively. Preston had sent her to help a farm that had asked help from the Minutemen. Claudia felt a little guilty for not diving head first into the kidnapping, but she also felt like if she went in unprepared she was good as dead. So, instead she was going to take out another raider gang.

Worry prickled at her. Sure she had surprisingly good aim and knew basic self defence, but she had been anything but a fighter before the war. She had not been part of the military or even law enforcement, much less a gang or the mafia. Her father had done a great job at teaching her how to hunt and shoot at the practice range, sure. People, though, people were different.

Dogmeat bounded ahead of her on the cracked pavement. She had found him at the Red Rocket truck stop between Sanctuary and Concord. He was a remarkably healthy German Shepherd given he was living in a radioactive wasteland. Claudia was incredibly thankful for him. He offered comfort without questions, which she needed right now. The settlers had been respectful in their questions, but she was still in shock. She had not and did not want to come to terms with what had happened. What she had lost.

Instead she focused on the task at hand. That is how she always coped with things. She would throw herself into whatever work she had. Schoolwork, her job, her music. The only difference for this is it involved violence.

Soon enough she arrived at the farm she was sent to help.

“Hello?” She called.

A woman with a shotgun walked out of the tiny wooden shack, pointing it at Claudia. “What do you want? We don’t need anymore trouble,” she demanded from the crooked steps.

“Relax,” Claudia said as she raised her hands to seem less threatening, “I was sent by the Minutemen. You asked for help?”

“Really? We didn’t really think you people still existed, especially after Quincy,” she said.

“We’re rebuilding the Minutemen,” she replied.

“Hey, you won’t hear any complaints from us. Things have gotten worse since the Minutemen fell to pieces,” she said.

“So, what do you need help with?” she asked as she lowered her arms back down.

“There’s a raider gang that won’t leave us alone, and we’re just farmers so we can’t stand up to guys like that,” she explained, “but we do know where they are. They’re stationed in the old Corvega Assembly Plant.” She pointed to the factory in the distance.

“Alright, I’ll go take care of them for you,” she said.

Just as she started making her way down the hill, the woman called to her. “Before you go take some advice. Try to stay clear out of Lexington. The place is filled with ghouls.” That was the second time someone had mentioned ghouls, and she didn’t know what they were. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

It was noon by the time she got to the old factory. Her back was glued to the western wall as she came up with a plan. Around the corner there were about three raiders, one of which was carrying what seemed to be a pool cue. That would be no issue given it was a surprise attack. The issue, however, was the turret. There was no way she could get to it to disable it without becoming Swiss Cheese, even if she could in the first place. She pulled a grenade from her pack, and wondered if she could throw it far enough.

Better than nothing, she thought to herself, With any luck I’ll get those bastards up top too.

For once in her life she did have luck. It left the turret nothing more than a smoking pile of shrapnel. Various body parts of the raiders were strewn about. Her stomach churned slightly. She had never been the type to get queasy with blood and injuries, but this was something else entirely, and more importantly she had caused it. She tried to push those thoughts aside as she shot the third. There was no more law enforcement. No more prison. The only way to get them to stop was killing them, and no one else was going to do it. Although she was unsure if she would ever be able to truly come to terms with this, she pushed on regardless.

Once inside she followed Dogmeat through the maze of rooms. At first she had been worried as to how she would even get out alive. Then they demonstrated their lack of intelligence, and that they made up for it with an abundance of cockiness. How they had survived so long, she did not know.

The duo did not have much trouble until they had to face off against the gang's leader. He was in a room with conveyor belts and nearly finished Corvegas, which offered better cover than wall corners. At least four other raiders paced the large room. More turrets sat atop a room connected to a cat walk. Spilled gasoline, oxygen tanks, and various other combustibles littered the place, and since she wanted to get out alive grenades were out of the question.

She did not have enough time to come up with a plan, as she was almost immediately spotted. A woman with a knife charged her. She shot her twice in the chest before she got too close for comfort. Dogmeat expertly pounced on another raider, tearing him to shreds. Claudia took down another, rather stupid one, who tried to out distance her pistol with a shotgun. She ducked behind a pillar when there were only two left. Dogmeat followed her actions and found cover for himself. She vaguely wondered how he had learned to fight.

“YOU’RE FUCKIN’ DEAD MEAT BITCH!” One of them roared.

Claudia peeked from behind her cover, and shot him in the head. She winced at the sight.

“YOU’LL PAY FOR THAT!” the last one raged.

She took a breath, steeling her nerves. With a surprising amount of speed she took down the remaining raider. She released the breath with a sigh.

As she lowered her gun she debated with herself as to whether to loot the bodies or not. She shuddered at the thought. She had taken the raiders down, because ultimately it was the right thing. Taking their belongings was pushing the boundaries for her. Eventually she buried those feelings to be dealt with later, along with everything else from the past week.

They really do use bottle caps for money, she thought as she searched the bodies. Even though she did not take Preston for the type to do so, she had thought the caps he gave her had been a joke.

She added that to the ever growing list of things to adapt to. She was thankful she was a quick learner.

By the time she got back to Tenpines Bluff it was mid afternoon. The walk back had been uneventful allowing for her adrenaline to die back down. Her body ached and stung, but the looks on the farmers’ faces were worth it.

“You’re… you’re back… and alive.” the woman from before said, “How did it go?” There was hopefulness in her voice.

“I took care of them. All of them. They won’t be bothering you anymore,” she said with a soft smile.

Pure joy erupted on their faces.

“Thank you so much! You have no idea what you’ve done for us!” the man said. He looked like he was close to tears.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

“I know it isn’t much, but… we want you to have this,” the woman said, handing Claudia a small leather pouch full of caps.

“That isn’t necessary.”

“We insist! And we were talking, and we agreed that if you pulled through for us, we’d support the Minutemen. Things’ll only get better if we’re together.” Claudia smiled, “Thank you. If you ever need help, you can depend on us.”

***

Claudia returned to Sanctuary just before sunset. She shivered as a cold wind blew past her. She checked the temperature on her Pip-Boy. It read 56 degrees Fahrenheit. Another shiver ripped through her. Having only moved to Boston over the summer before the bombs, she was unaccustomed to it being this cold this early in the year. Fall in the Central Valley had been kinder to her. Although she did prefer the New England summer.

Dogmeat left her side to go say hello to the new residents, as she set down her pack in her reclaimed house. Although talking to Preston about her success was important, properly taking care of her injuries was more so.

She stripped off her mismatched armor, jacket, and jeans. Her left bicep and right upper thigh had both been grazed by bullets. Thankfully both injuries were not particularly serious. Both had done just enough damage to draw blood, but she was worried about infection. Rifling through her mediocre med-kit she dressed her wounds to the best of her ability. She chided herself for not asking for help with her arm as it was difficult to do one handed. When she was done she put on a different jacket and pair of jeans. Both were just as dirty as the ones from before, but they had less holes in them.

Preston was standing in front of the bridge staring at the darkening sky when she found him. He turned when he heard her approaching.

“So, how’d it go?” he asked.

“Took care of the raiders in Corvega, and the people at Tenpines Bluff have decided to support us.”

His face lit up. “That’s great news.”

“Figured you’d be happy about that.”

“Oh, before I forget. I wanted to give you this. It’s a flare gun,” he explained as he handed it to her.

“Thanks, Preston. In a place like this? I’m sure it’ll be put to good use.”

“I know it’s not much right now, but once we have more allied settlements you’ll have help whenever you need it.”

An awkward silence fell between them. Preston shifted, turning his gaze back to the sky before asking, “I haven’t told how I became the last Minuteman, have I?”

“Didn’t want to push you,” she replied, pushing her hands into her jacket pockets.

“Have you heard about the Quincy Massacre?” he hesitantly asked.

“No. The people at Tenpines mentioned something about Quincy, but I didn’t know what they were talking about. Why, what happened?”

He was quiet for a moment before he spoke, a pained look coming across his face.

“A mercenary group called the Gunners attacked Quincy, and the people there asked for help. My group was the only one that showed.” she could hear him struggling to keep his voice steady, “We were able to hold them off initially, but it wasn’t enough. We asked for reinforcements, but we never even heard from anyone. The Gunners took Quincy, and killed Colonel Hollis, so I was in charge of the survivors. We didn’t find a safe place to settle. Until now.”

Claudia soaked in the words before she said anything. When she spoke her words were careful, “I think the Minutemen can make a comeback. They can be the good guys again. As long as you don’t give up.”

“I’m not about to give up,” he said, finally turning to look at her, “that’s why I’m talking to you. I… I can’t rebuild the Minutemen, but… I think you can.” His words caught her off guard. She was more than willing to join the cause, but leading them was a completely different story.

“I don’t know if I’m the right person for that, Preston,” she said hesitantly, why can’t you?”

“I can get my men through a fight, hold a location against all odds, but I can’t lead like that. Besides you helped us in Concord, and have continued to help us even though there was nothing in it for you. You helped the people at Tenpines even though you have your own problems to deal with. Selflessness like that has been in short supply around here, and that’s what we need.” She took a deep breath and looked across the river. She mulled over the offer in her head. She wanted to do it, she did, but she was worried about how young she was. Before the bombs no one would have ever even thought to give someone her age this kind of offer.

“But I have no experience with this,” she tried to argue.

“No leader does their first time,”

“I’m only twenty-two. Don’t you think that’s too young to do this?”

Preston apparently did not care. He insisted, “I’ll help you along the way. I know I’m asking a lot, but the Minutemen need someone like you.”

She did not answer for a moment. His words shooed away her apprehension. He was giving her the chance to do something truly good, and she did not want to turn it down. As long as she had help…

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

A look of disbelief crossed his face, “Really?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, her voice full of determination.

He smiled, “I’ll be right behind you the whole way… General.”

“General?”

“The leader of the Minutemen has always held the rank of General. Our last leader was General Becker. He died back in ‘82. The one good thing about being the last Minuteman is no one is going to argue with me putting you in charge.”

“So, what rank does that make you?”

“Well… the second highest rank is major, but I guess now it depends on what you say?”

“Major it is then.”

He smiled. This was probably the most Claudia had seen him smile in the week she had known him.

“So, what now General Flynn?”

“Well Major Garvey, I say we rest tonight, and decide our next action in the morning.”

“Good plan ma’am.”

Coupled with the physical exhaustion from the events of the day, and the goodness she did. That night she got the best sleep she had since waking up in the wasteland.

***

Almost feel bad for these little guys. Almost, she thought, nudging a dead mole rat with her toe.

There was not a cloud in the sky, as the sun shone brightly. A brisk breeze threw around debris and dead plant matter. The air was cool against her face. It was the perfect weather for outdoors work. She had cleared the drive-in theatre just outside of Concord in order to create a new settlement. Preston had taken on the duty of helping a farm down south with some raiders. Even though she was in charge of him, he had insisted she do an easier task today if she insisted on doing Minutemen duties. Especially after he saw how drained she was from Corvega.

It ended up taking Claudia and Sturges longer to haul all of the stuff they needed down to the drive-in than it did to clear it in the first place. After a few hours of working on the radio they decided to take a break. They sipped on purified water, courtesy of Codsworth, in the shade of the shack against the hill. Claudia took this as an opportunity to sate her curiosity.

“Hey, Sturges, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he said.

“What’s a ghoul? I keep hearing people talk about them, but I have no idea what they are,” she admitted.

“Well,” he explained, “they’re just irradiated people. But there are different kinds. Some ghouls are like you an’ me. The only difference is they look different and live longer, assumin’ they don’t get hurt. Then there are ferals. Those are the ones you keep hearin’ about. The radiation rotted their brains, makin’ them go insane.”

“So these “ferals,” are basically zombies?” she asked.

“Basically.”

“If the others are like us, then why are they called the same thing? They sound pretty different to me.”

“‘Cause people don’t like ‘em. People don’t seem to understand the difference. No matter how drastic. I don’t understand it honestly.”

“Glad to know humanity hasn’t changed,” she said sarcastically.

“And it goes farther than just names. The only large settlement I know of that allows ‘em to live there is Goodneighbor. Which is a damn shame. ‘Specially since livin’ in there is only half a set better than gettin’ gnawed on by radroaches.”

Sadly, she understood why they were not allowed to live in nice places. It was prejudice. Even though she hated it, humanity had always been prejudiced. After all that’s what led to the internment camps.

“What’s so bad about Goodneighbor?”

“Ain’t nothin’ there but chems and mercenaries. People there will most likely wind up dead to one or the other if they stay too long.”

She wrinkled her nose, “Lovely.”

“Still beats gettin’ torn to shreds by raiders. If only a little bit.”

“So, only go to this place in the case of an absolute emergency?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugged.

She hoped that it would not come to that if he was not exaggerating.

***

Preston returned just before the residents of Sanctuary started to head to bed the next day. He looked a little worse for wear, but pleased. All that really mattered was that he was alive, and not seriously injured of course.

“General,” he said in greeting.

“Hey, Preston. You know you don’t have to call me that, right?” Claudia asked.

He merely shrugged in response, “I have news for you.”

“I hope it’s good news.”

“It is.” he smiled, “The people at Oberland Station have decided to join us. This means we’re large enough to start having communication problems, but that’s a good thing.”

“How is that a good thing?” she asked, frowning. In her experience poor communication just led to disaster.

“It gives us a damn good reason to take back The Castle, the old Minutemen HQ. It’s well fortified, centrally located, and best of all, it has a strong radio tower that can broadcast all over the Commonwealth,” he explained.

“Oh. Yeah that sounds like a good thing.”

“So are we gonna do it?”

“Do you think we can get enough people to attack it?”

“I have to talk to some people, but yeah. Especially since it wasn’t raiders or gunners that took it.”

“Who took it then?” she asked.

“I’m not sure how true it is, but apparently a sea monster attacked. My guess is mirelurks.”

“What’s a mirelurk?” she asked. She felt a little embarrassed having to constantly ask what everything. She felt like a little kid. She was thankful that she had wound up with such an understanding group.

“I think you would have called them… crabs?”

She burst out laughing, “They lost a ‘well fortified’ place to a bunch of crabs?”

“It was before my time, so I have no idea… so are we going to do this?”

“Yeah, let’s do this, but we should wait until tomorrow morning. You need to rest, and I want to have as much energy as possible for this. That’s an order,” she joked.

“You won’t regret this ma’am!” he said turning towards the house he had claimed.

***

The next morning Preston was nowhere to be found. When she could not find him she sought out Sturges.

“Have you seen Preston anywhere?”she asked.

“He left about an hour ago. Said you guys were gonna take back The Castle. Why?” Her jaw dropped. He had already left. She felt stupid for not telling him to wait for her. She could not blame him for leaving as soon as possible. She had seen the excitement hidden beneath his professionalism.

Now she was going to have to deal with the repercussions for her lack of communication.

“I have no idea where I’m going.” she sighed, “Preston never pointed it out on any map.”

“I have kind of an idea of where it is, if that’s any help,” he offered.

After he showed her the area where it was located he said, “Unless you want to stop by Diamond City on the way, I suggest you stay out of the main city. Can be real dangerous at times.”

“Thanks, Sturges.”

Before she started heading out she filled her pack to the brim with extra clothes, water, food, medical supplies, caps, and everything else she thought she would need. The trip to The Castle was going to be a long one, and she did not want to take any chances. She strapped her shotgun she had gotten thanks to the raiders to her back, and placed a combat knife in a makeshift sheath at her hip. Pistol in hand she started to make her way out of Sanctuary.

She thought about bringing Dogmeat with her for a moment, but ultimately decided against it. She did not want to wear him out, and without her and Preston there someone needed to guard the place. The day was cooler than the ones before it, almost too cold. Clouds were on the horizon, signaling a storm. Claudia wondered if the rain would be radioactive like the rivers were.

As she headed southwest towards the Charles river she saw various wild animals in the distance from a pack of wild mongrels to a two-headed deer. They never got too close for comfort though, making for an uneventful journey. Until she got to Cambridge.

When Sturges had told her to stay out of the city she thought he had meant Boston itself. She was wrong. After a few minutes of making her way between crumbling buildings she was greeted by an irate group of raiders. Luckily for Claudia they were too high to actually do anything, so she was able to take them out with ease. That should have, however, been taken as a sign of things to come.

The mid afternoon sun added only a small amount of warmth as she made her way towards the river. When she got close enough to see the river she heard gruff, manly voices that did not sound quite human. They sounded like a stereotypical voice of an ogre or something similar. She did not realize how close that comparison was until she saw the source of the voices.

They came from her left, down the street that intersected the one she was walking along. They walked like men and had similar muscle structure, but they very obviously were not. The biggest indicator was their green skin, and their sheer size did not help matters.

She froze, unsure what to do. She had no idea what they were, and if they were dangerous, and if they were, how dangerous. She was starting to think she should just ask for a list of things that could kill her other than disease or radiation.

She decided it was probably for the best to just sneak past them and conserve ammo. After all she was meeting Preston to take down some mutated crabs. Luck was not in her favor this time, however, because they heard her next step crunch loudly against the broken pavement.

“A HUMAN!” one roared.

“LET’S KILL IT!” shouted another.

She took off down the street like a rocket. They did not seem to mind chasing down their prey. She forgot Sturges’s warning and dashed across the bridge that spanned the river. She ducked into the city hoping to lose them. They were fast and seemed to be incredibly strong, but she hoped they were not agile or clever.

After what felt like an eternity of chasing her through the maze of buildings, she was able to lose them by hiding in a hole in a wall. She took shallow breaths trying to remain as quiet as possible as they passed. She prayed that they did not find her in her hiding spot. She had a feeling she was as good as dead if they did.

Once she was sure they were gone a broken sob escaped her. The reality of her situation slammed into her like a truck. The world she had known was gone. Her family and friends were gone. The people who would hold her, and tell her that everything would be alright were gone. The world she had known had died, and this terrible world plagued by radiation, raiders, mutated creatures, and who knows what else had taken its place. As her cries escalated it got to the point where she fell out of the hole and threw up. The horror of this new world got to her.

After a while she straightened up and wiped her face clean. She had lost much, yes, but she would be damned if she gave up so soon. She took a few deep breaths, and then started to make her way through the city.

She cursed herself for running into there with such reckless abandon. She had not spent much time exploring Boston before the bombs, and the destruction did not help matters. The map and compass only served to confuse her.

Just as she was about to give up, and try and find another hole to bunker down in for the night, she saw an odd, blue glow reflecting off the old metal of a building that seemed to have been inhabited recently. As she turned towards the source, she realized it was the familiar coldness of neon. Then she spotted the sign. “Goodneighbor” it read.

I think this counts as an emergency, she thought as she walked through the door of the makeshift wall.

She quickly opened the door, and stepped inside. Resting against the door with her back to it she took in the tiny town. She had been to Scollay Square once before the war, and toured The Old State House. She marveled at the condition of the old building for a moment. She was brought back down into the harsh reality when a dirty, roughed up man approached her.

“Hey! You new to Goodneighbor? Can’t go walking around without insurance,” he said as he took a drag off of his cigarette.

“Insurance?” she asked. Her voice came out smaller than she intended. In another life she would have kicked herself, but at this point she was far too overwhelmed to care.

“Yeah, insurance. The kind where you give me everything in your pockets, and there won’t be any ‘accidents.’ Big, bloody ‘accidents’,” he sneered.

Before she react a man with the graveliest voice she had ever heard interjected. He strode up to the man accosting her, and said, “Woah, woah, woah. Time out. Someone steps through the gate the first time, they’re a guest. You lay off that extortion crap.”

“What’d you care? She ain’t one of us.”

“No love for your mayor, Finn? I said let her go,” the mayor said. From where she was standing, she could see there was something wrong with his eyes and skin and… did he not have a nose?

“You’re soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there’ll be a new mayor.”

“Come on, man. This is me we’re talking about. Let me tell you something,” Hancock said, taking a step closer to the man. He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder in a friendly way, and then, to Claudia’s horror, proceeded to stab him in the gut. She watched in shock as he stared down at the now dead body.

“Now why’d you have to go, and say that, huh? Breaking my heart over here. You alright sister?” he asked as he turned to her. He took a step closer to her.

She felt her mouth gape open as she looked at him. His skin was burned, and falling off in patches. She was right when she thought he did not have a nose. He had just two holes where it should have been. Both the irises and the scleras of his eyes were black. It took her brain a moment to process what she was seeing. He must be a ghoul. She shut her mouth when she realized her expression must have looked rude, but it was hard not to stare. It looked so painful to be like that.

She blinked dumbly a few times before answering, “You… you killed him.”

“Got a good pair of eyes on ya. I think you’ll fit in here,” he drawled, “but don’t let this incident taint your view of our community. Goodneighbor’s of the people the people, for the people. Everyone’s welcome. You feel me?”

She was having a hard time paying attention. It was too much to take in at once. She let out a shaky breath, “I, uh, yeah. Yeah.”

“Good. Just remember who’s in charge, and don’t be afraid to stop by for whatever you need,” he said, before he started to walk away.

Her brain hung that last part. What she needed was someone who could help her get to the Castle. A body guide or…

“Wait,” she called. He turned to face her. The skin above his eyebrow was molded in a way that must have been his way of raising an eyebrow.

She took a deep breath, “Do you know of any guns for hire?”

He smiled at her, “I know just the guy.”

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fanfiction #fanfic #sole survivor #claudia flynn #violence warning #language warning #preston garvey #fallout sturges #maccready x sole survivor #my first fanfic #puking warning

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numeronubisexualhawkeye · 5 years

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This One’s For You Steve Irwin

1818 words

(this is complete and utter nonsense but i had fun writing it lmao)

Clint wouldn’t lie and say he had been a little excited when Maria cleared them for this mission. At first he was going to pass it onto someone else or let Natasha handle it on her own this time. He had just come off a month long mission trying to take down an arms dealer in Benin, and was ready for some well deserved rest, but Maria knew how to reel him back in. At first she had just told him that it was in Australia, easy, would probably be up in a week, and he could stay in the country for however long he wanted until they called him back for another mission (the last part sounded too good to be true, but Clint had vacation days saved up and he would use them on the sunshine coast in a heartbeat).

That grabbed enough of his attention to ask just how “easy” this mission was supposed to be. When Maria told him that they had to discreetly take down someone who had been smuggling biological weapons through Australia Zoo, he actually laughed.

“Is the crime world so desperate they’re willing to smear Steve Irwin’s legacy for their evil plan?” he had asked.

Maria just shrugged. “I don’t know. But apparently, they’re doing a sloppy job, because Queensland Police have had multiple tips from staff and tourists reporting suspicious behavior.”

“Then why not let Queensland Police handle it?”

“Because it’s one of ours.” Maria said handing him the file with the mission report.

Clint vaguely remembered the face in the blurry security camera picture. Some cadet who had defected early into training, too tempted by the easy money of some crime lord one of his friends had been running with. Maybe this would be easy, Clint had trained him for a short while, and the young man, Jacob if he remembered correctly, was shrimpy, never ranked high in any of his physical tests. But apparently he was a good enough businessman to have a weapons deal running down under.

He accepted the mission, and three days later, he and Natasha boarded a painstakingly long twenty hour flight. When they finally got to their hotel, Clint sang the praises to every deity he could name off the top of his head.

“You gonna lounge around all day or are we gonna get to work?” Natasha said coyly, tossing a t-shirt on his head.

Clint had been spread out across the bed for several minutes while Natasha was coming out the bathroom from a shower. “Ugh, five more minutes. That flight was the devil.”

“This heat is about to be the devil. I can’t believe we have to stake out a zoo during Australia’s summer.” Natasha said as she brushed out her hair.

“Hey, look on the bright side, we can go to the Crocoseum when we’re done.”

“Hm, that's true.” Natasha laughed. “But seriously, let's get this over with. There's no way that skinny asshole can be that big of a problem.”

But as it turned out, that skinny asshole ended up being a complete problem. Since the calls had been coming in about suspicious behavior, security at the zoo had been tightened. They had to go in without weapons, which they most likely wouldn't have needed, but going in without at least a pistol made Clint feel naked in his khaki shorts and t shirt. The only sort of gear they took in was a radiation monitor that Natasha had smuggled in in her purse.

The tight security also made it that much harder to scope their target out without alerting any of the staff. Sure they were just moderately trained cops and staff, but Clint would have much rather preferred to not have their cover blown (that and he really wanted to see the croc feeding at four).

They didn't stay the entire day, only about two hours. It was crowded and with the security, all they could really do is scout out staff entrances and exists, and keep an eye out for Jacob's face in the crowd.

The second day was a bit more promising. In the crowded cafe, Natasha was able to pick up a reading on the radiation found in the weapon they were looking for.

“West side of the zoo,” she signed to him. He had his hearing aids in, but it was easier to talk about the mission this way.

“Oh goody, looks like we're going to Africa.” Clint signed back as he looked at the map to see where exactly they would be heading.

Once in the African enclosures of the zoo, the crowd had thinned out a little and the security was a little less dense. Clint walked with his arm around Natasha's shoulder, leaning a little too hard into their newlywed cover. But how could he not? The jovial energy of the zoo, the perfect weather, Natasha looking like an angel in her green sundress, ponytail, and New York Giants baseball cap she had nicked from him a few weeks back. It was painfully blissful, and here he was trying to chase down a defunct cadet instead of being able to fully enjoy it.

“I got it.” Natasha signed, walking out from under Clint's arm.

He sighed as the moment ended, duty was always calling. He followed her as she walked along the perimeter of the enclosure, passing rhinos and giraffes as he went. When she stopped and looked up, her gaze went inward to the animals.

“What the,” she started, “that can't be right.”

“What is it?” Clint asked.

Natasha didn't say anything, there was a security guard walking past them. Instead she passed him the monitor. The signal was strong alright, the blip on the radar binging like crazy. Clint looked in the direction the monitor was saying the radiation was strongest; the herd of rhinos.

“Wh-what?” Clint said perplexed.

Natasha nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, the guard passing them had turned around. She laced her fingers in his and faked a laugh, as if she was laughing at Clint's reaction to a bad joke she had just told. The guard turned and walked off.

“Let's go.” Natasha signed.

Back at the hotel, Clint finally blurted out his theory as to what was going on, “He's smuggling the weapons through the animals. Like some drug trafficking type shit.”

Natasha shook her head. “No that'd be too easy to find out. I doubt a rhino would be able to hold down an atomic bomb in its stomach for long.”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “Are you hinting at what I think you are?”

“It's so stupid it's almost amazing, isn't it?” Natasha said.

“Just to be sure, we are both thinking that the animals are the weapons right?”

“Yeah that's totally it.” Natasha answered. He couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

That night, they donned their catsuits and gear and headed back to the zoo. Clint felt like he was going to hell for breaking into the zoo. Australia Zoo of all zoos to run a weapons ring, and in the animals themselves? It was already bad enough that it was animal abuse, but the things this would do to Steve Irwin's legacy if it got out? Clint made a note to kick Jacob's ass a little harder when they caught him.

First they took out the security cameras and set off a distraction in the food court. “Sonic arrow should do well enough for a couple minutes right?” Clint signed to Natasha.

They made their way back to the African enclosures but the monitor indicated that wherever the radiation had been coming from had moved.

“Shit, we're too late.” Natasha said.

“No, look over there.” Clint pointed to a small spot of light across the large field. The shape of the truck was almost impossible to make out in the darkness, but someone had left the light on inside.

“We gotta hurry. I really don't wanna disappoint any of the Peta freaks at work.” Natasha said.

They jumped the fence and sprinted across the field, Clint a little wary of the animals around them, but they took a wide path to avoid spooking the herd. But by the time they were halfway across the field, the truck driver had caught sight of them and started the engine.

“Shit. Clint,” Natasha hissed beside him.

“I'm on it!” He whipped an arrow out his quiver and took aim at the truck's tires, but the driver braked in front of them, narrowly avoiding running them over. A man stepped out the driver’s side, Jacob.

“Ha! I guess I finally popped up on Shield’s radar.” he said, sounding impressed, “Guess my little operation is going better than I thought.”

“Dude, you’re using rhinos for some fucked up weapons experiments.” Natasha, irritation dripping from her voice, “That’s not very honorable.”

“And at Steve Irwin’s zoo? The hell’s the matter with you?” Clint followed.

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Some jackass in Africa wants souped up baby rhinos, I’m gonna give him souped up baby rhi-” Jacob’s sentence was cut off by one of Clint’s trick shots piercing his shoulder and electrocuting him.

“G-d these guys just can’t pass up a chance to monologue.” he huffed.

Natasha went to apprehend Jacob while Clint went to the bed of the truck and found a baby rhino sedated in the bed. “Hey there fella,” he whispered, rubbing his hand along its side. “We’re gonna get you home to your mom safe and sound.”

The rest of the night went smoothly. They alerted zoo security, and told them about Jacob’s plan. Natasha assured them that all the animals sold through Jacob would be returned as soon as possible, she and Clint both knew it wouldn’t take much to get the young man to crack and tell where he had shipped the poor animals off to. When all was said and done, there was technically five days left in their mission, and Maria had said that Clint could spend however long he wanted in Australia until his next mission. The next morning at the hotel, Clint woke Natasha up early with soft kisses on her cheek.

“Good morning to you too.” she smiled. “Happy to see me?”

“Yes, but there’s also a croc feeding at noon, and I really wanna meet Terri Irwin.” Clint whispered.

Natasha rolled over and hit him in the head with her pillow. “G-d you only took this mission to come to Australia Zoo, didn’t you?”

“What? No. I took this mission to honor the late, great Steve Irwin, and go to Australia Zoo.”

Natasha laughed, and got out of bed. The rest of their stay was as sweet and simple as their newlywed cover had been, and for the time being, Clint couldn’t think of a better job in the world to have.

#k.txt #clintasha #fic tag #fluff

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dukemassetti · 5 years

Text

09.12.2018

In dear Verona, where we lay our scene... [ ENTER Edmund, who has summoned Miranda and Orsino to his home. ]

EASTON.

Easton read and reread the text, already experiencing a sinking feeling in his stomach. The month had been a complete disaster, with Maeve killing someone, with Orion punching him in the fucking face, and with his own insecurities exploding from every pore of his body. For someone who had pretended at confidence and security, he felt as if he had just been beaten and bruised for two weeks straight. Instead of any reprieve, as if he was naive enough to think he’s have one, the text arrived brutally. The ding that it sent off made Easton’s body tense, and as he read through, he knew this was something he couldn’t fuck up. No more playing at Captain, no more sending his team in without backup. The lessons he learned were swift and eye opening, and there would be no second chance.

He kept his phone out and quickly started typing in the group chat he had for Orion and Maeve. “Meet at my place in ten, new mission to go over.”

How was he going to pull this off? The job didn’t exactly seem difficult, but as soon as the door rang he would immediately be waiting to be attacked once more. And while his relationship with Maeve was cordial at best, he had a hard time believing she’d be happy to see him either. But failure was a word he refused to swallow. He didn’t want to prove everyone right. Bastard could just be an insult, not the rest of his life. The only thing he had to do now was wait. Wait, and plan, and settle upon the fact that Maeve and Orion had done great things without him, and they could do it all over again.

Easton stared at his door, his leg shaking, and his hands wringing. The time to prove himself was now, and although he could still feel the bruise that graced his face thanks to Orion, this was no time to reopen fresh wounds. As soon as the knocks came, he would be ready to face the mission head on.

If you don’t, then consider yourself demoted once more.

The words were burned in his mind, and the only thing left to do was prove that maybe this would never be his team, but they could be a team.

The knock comes, and soon both Orion and Maeve are walking through his front door.

ORION.

Orion almost slept through the text. Would have, honestly, if not for the fact that he’d fallen asleep at his desk with his phone under his cheek. It chimed loud enough to startle him, and he fumbled with it a moment, non-verbally arguing with Touch I.D. until it worked and allowed him to read the text.

Ten fucking minutes? Really, you brat?

Alright, maybe it wasn’t the normal time for people to be asleep, but he was having to do a ridiculous amount of research ahead of his other mission. He didn’t have time for this. Yet this, he reminded himself, was the test Cosimo had set out for him. He needed to do everything, from going to Japan to helping Easton and Maeve to helping Vivianne with Marcelo. It was all about proving what he could and could not do, and for his autonomy, he would do a lot.

He pulled on a jacket and headed out the door, raking fingers through his hair but not really bothering with much else. Orion barely remembered to strap on his holsters, but having a couple guns was more important than having a non-wrinkled shirt. He stuck a couple knives in his boots and called it good, breaking into a light jog once outside in order to make it to Easton’s on time.

MAEVE.

She was naked when his text came. Fresh out of the shower with a towel tucked around her frame, Maeve’s fingers were still damp when she unlocked her phone to read Easton’s command. Her stomach dropped at the words a new mission. Her recent failure – both to her own moral compass and, apparently, to Easton as a captain – still burned across her memory and stung whenever she dwelled on it for a second too long. Was this punishment for it?

Orion’s abrasiveness certainly didn’t help, either. She was used to his sass and unique sense of humor, and usually it made her laugh – but usually, she had Everett’s even-temperedness to balance him. But Easton and Orion both were atomic bombs, and it was up to Maeve to keep everyone happy and getting along.

She sent a quick text (I’m coming!) and met her eyes in the mirror. “They’re going to get frizzy Maeve today,” she said out loud with a sigh, throwing aside her pajamas and throwing on a romper instead.

ORION.

Maeve was already there when he arrived, and he caught her before they entered, hand at her shoulder. “I’ll follow your lead,” he said quietly, trying to keep a promise. Trying to let Maeve be responsible for herself rather than giving in to instinct to control what happened, though he wanted to very badly. “You ready?”

MAEVE.

Her hand was in mid-air to knock on Easton’s door when Orion caught her by surprise, and Maeve got a soft shriek at the sound of him. “Orion Spaghetti,” she scolded – but a smile had already begun growing on her lips before she even fumbled his last name. “Thanks, Orion. For…” Helping me get rid of a dead body because I had no idea what to do. “Everything.”

She looked back to the door of Easton’s apartment and sighed, the mood quickly changing at the thought of their team meeting. “Let’s see what capitano wants, hm?” Orion’s presence emboldening her and his sneak attack still causing her heart to race, Maeve reached for the handle and pushed it open.

“We’re here, capitano!” she sang, sitting down on a loveseat and grabbing the nearest pillow to hold to her chest. “What’s so urgent? Did you just get lonely?”

ORION.

Orion rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, pleased that Maeve was willing to joke with him. He had — well, he wasn’t afraid, necessarily, but he was wary of how she might treat him differently, after having to deal with him in such a different context. “Maeve baby,” he replied, “Sorry: strong, fierce, independent baby. If I got that right.” Don’t thank me, he wanted to ask, just call me earlier next time. It wasn’t the right time to have that talk, though.

He followed Maeve inside, curious as to what Easton’s reaction would be when seeing him again. He couldn’t help a slight smile at the sight of his face, but that was all the antagonizing he allowed himself before sprawling next to Maeve. It was a deliberate choice to put himself beneath Easton, rather than standing and giving them an equal playing field. Orion’s way of saying he was listening, and he was going to be a good little soldier boy or whatever. For now.

EASTON.

Easton watched both of them sit, and tried to pull himself up straighter, as if to assert that he actually had control over the situation. He didn’t. This was an attempt at trying to piece together what was left of any control he had at all, and there was no point in him wasting time with pleasantries. Maybe there would be a time when he could air his grievances and directly point out the fact that he was indeed in charge, but now was the time to strap on his gun and get to work.

“Cosimo sent me a message,” Easton began, not bothering to modify his voice to seem bigger or louder. Orion had already given him the floor. “There’s a church near the neutral territories that the Montagues and their clients have been using as a trade spot. He wants us to take it. He seemed urgent, but everything he says is urgent.”

He paced in front of them, already anxious to get things rolling, to learn his fate once and for all. “I’ve done a preliminary check of the area, and the church seems fairly covered with little exposure. I know this has been a—rough transition, but it seems like this should be a pretty simple take, especially if we catch them on an off night.”

There was a pause as Easton waited for the pair to jump in. He especially looked to Orion, who, while he currently outranked them, was the more experienced one in the room. There was plenty of vibrato that Easton pumped out, but he wasn’t stupid. Orion was a great shot, an impressive fighter, and he was clever. While Maeve was still green, still scrubbing blood off of her hands, there would also be potential in the girl that he betrayed.

ORION.

Easton seemed more measured this time, which could be due to the fact that they weren’t outright fighting, who knows. Orion racked his brain a moment, trying to remember if he’d ever been in a church in Mont territory. Once, maybe. Yes. “I did surveillance there a while back. Maybe eight years ago, but they haven’t changed much around there since.” One of Orion’s more valuable abilities was slipping in and out of Montague territory, and he hadn’t seen any increased guard presence there, not more than the usual increases that happened after Faron Vasiliev’s death. It wasn’t a particularly strategic location, but this wouldn’t be about strategy, would it?

This was punishment as much as it was pushing the Montague buttons. Multiple Montagues had already died or been sent away lately, but it wasn’t enough, not when Cosimo himself had been shot. Pushing and covering more territory right after recapturing Measure by Measure would only solidify the Capulet position.

Damiano, he thought with a disinterested pang, you should’ve offered me more when I was 21.

“Who’s covering the area?” he asked. Out of the three of them, he had the most experience with their adversaries, and if there were any recognizable names on that list, he wanted to know about it. If they were low-level soldiers, he wasn’t worried, but if someone like Marcelo or Zhang controlled the area, they’d be facing off against more training. “They have increased presence after Vasiliev’s death, but they have to be reorganizing their territory now that they’ve lost Measure by Measure. Cosimo’s right: this is the only time to do it. Have you been permitted to bring additional soldatos?” Easton’s command included more than just Orion and Maeve, but even though Maeve was green, having been personally trained by him and Everett gave her a leg up on the rest. They would only be cannon fodder, but it was better to put them between themselves and danger, in Orion’s view, if they could.

MAEVE.

She remembered what her papa had told her when she was first assigned to a captain: The Capulets are not kind. They will throw you into boiling water and will not let go of your neck when you try to jump out. You chose this life, stella mia. You wanted it even when I begged you to walk away. So I will not be kind, either. You will not jump out when the water boils. Maeve hadn’t expected a break, from Easton or from Cosimo; but she didn’t expect to be trusted with another mission so soon. Especially not by Easton, not after she had failed.

It was a small kindness, mercy doled out in sips and teaspoons. Maeve was thankful for it, nonetheless. She put the pillow away once she realized the three of them would be talking shop, organizing their efforts and putting their heads together.

Stella mia, my heart walking outside of my chest — this is what being a Capulet means, her papa had told her, holding a bird in his hand and snapping its neck. Doing what is necessary for the greater good.

For her papa, the greater good meant avenging his wife. It was her papa’s way of reclaiming her mother’s death, of resurrecting her from the grave with the blood of other countless innocents. He went into every mission with Maria’s face in mind, but Maeve — Maeve usually wanted to make Everett proud, Orion grin at her when she made a clever comment.

And now, she wanted to redeem herself. Holding a pillow to her chest like a child was no way for a soldier to act, and Maeve was determined to prove herself again as a soldier.

“I’ve passed that church on my way to and from work,” she said, fondly remembering the flower shop on the outskirts of Montague territory. “I see one soldier there a lot, and he’s almost always stoned. Always on Thursdays, just after the sun sets. Seems like a good place to start.”

EASTON.

A strong sense of pride started to surve in Easton’s chest. This seemed to be as good as any of this was going to get. They were bouncing ideas back and forth, and adding in their own experiences. To many it would’ve been small and insignificant, but for Easton? It felt a lot like freedom. Every passing moment felt as if they were going to pull this off. That maybe, by the skin of his teeth, he’d get through December retaining his newly held title.

“It was specifically stated that I’d have the pair of you and no one else.” It would have been easier to bring others along, but by the way the conversation was going, they wouldn’t need anyone. If Maeve’s story checked out, this would be the easiest mission he had ever been a part of, but he knew better than to underestimate a situation. Montagues were like that. They were slippery and devious, and although many of them lacked skill, there had to be enough intelligence among them to continue on the way that they had.

Easton turned to Maeve now. “They don’t have any big names covering the area, at least not that I’ve heard. So, I think you might be onto something. That doesn’t mean they won’t slip someone in extra to throw off too much routine, but I don’t think this is exactly their most coveted area to hold.”

He didn’t need Orion and Maeve to like him on a personal level, but he did need them to respect him enough to keep the discussion going. The rest of his life hinged on his ability to read the room, and their willingness to work with him.

“We need to plan for at least five targets being there. If this is a common trading zone, they’d keep plenty of people inside with any merchandise that might be laying around. There’s no way in hell they’d keep goods guarded by just one stoned idiot.”

ORION.

Already, Orion was reviewing the layout of the church in his head. It had been many years, but he tried never to forget a part of Montague territory, just in case he needed to pop in and wreak havoc. He stood and searched around the room for a moment before grabbing a scrap of mail and a pen, ignoring Easton’s privacy in favor of sketching out a very, very rough map.

It was a one-story building, old and small, historic but not historic enough to bother most in a city full of landmarks and old buildings. History was built into the very bones and soul of Verona, and what was a treasure in a more modern city was but a building your eyes slid over if you weren’t paying particular attention as you passed it on the street.

While Easton and Maeve discussed the soldiers and how to prepare, Orion focused on the diagram. He didn’t worry about things like differentiating where the tabernacle was or drawing the Presider’s chair, outlining every window and door in as best detail as he could remember, as well as obstacles like the altar or the pews. “Don’t plan for a number when you’re just guessing,” he said almost absently. “The stats on getting the number right aren’t ever in your favor, and it means you’re more likely to fuck up when the numbers are off what you were thinking.” He pointed out the stained glass windows he could remember, as back-up exit strategies, though he was loathe to destroy the art. At last, he sat back on the couch, throwing an arm absently over the back of the couch on the side where Maeve was sitting.

“Start with us, not with them. What are our strengths?” He knew his and Maeve’s fairly well, and Easton’s only some, but he wanted to hear Easton’s assessment. This was the other test Cosimo had set for him, after all: could he use his soldiers to the best of their abilities, or was he going to continue throwing them at the wall like spaghetti?

MAEVE.

She was trying very hard not to smile with pleasure as Easton and Orion continued to talk logistics. Anything less than an insult from Easton was a compliment, and this was the first time the three of them had met and felt cohesive. Or at least, as close to cohesive as they could get. It would take time to adjust to this little group but she was confident that with time, and perhaps with an unreasonable amount of trust in each other, they could become a family.

In random intervals, her lips lifted and fell as Maeve struggled with the pride she felt blossoming in her chest. We can do this, she thought, looking back and forth from Easton to Orion. This isn’t so hard.

As Orion spoke, Maeve leaned over to peer down at his doodling. Or rather, the semi-crude diagram of the church they were discussing. “Do you think they’d recognize one of us?” she asked, recalling how easy it was for her to slip in and out of Montague territory for work. “Maybe I could go to the church for confession and count.”

It took every muscle in her body to stay still and not lean into Orion’s side with his arm behind her. In any other situation, she would have curled up beside him and pouted until he allowed a brief but severely affectionate cuddle. But Maeve knew Orion wouldn’t be comfortable around Easton enough to allow for any vulnerability — not yet, she reminded herself.

“Oh, let’s all go around sharing what we think everyone’s strengths are,” she said happily, straightening at the team bonding exercise. “I think it would help us see the bigger picture of this team and how we should approach this.”

EASTON.

Easton ran a hand over his face and let out a sigh. Things were going well, and he could already feel them working as a unit. He was happy that Orion was at least there to correct him, to pull him from walking off the cliff in a wrong direction. But it was all still new, still unknown. There was a strange feeling that came with being in a position of power that he hadn’t ever felt before. Here, standing before Maeve and Orion, there was no use in pretending as if he was another nameless shoulder. Someone in the higher ups had seen the use in him, and maybe it was time he stopped faking his confidence and started growing into it.

“Okay, we’ll go over some strengths.” He looked at Orion first, already having a list of things ready to go. “You’re experienced. You’ve been in the fights, you’ve killed plenty of people. That means you understand weak points, you know where to hit people. You’re also intelligent, which means you won’t walk in places blind. Other than that, I’m assuming you’re a good marksman, and I highly doubt you’d miss working on your knife skills. I’d also bother to list hand to hand combat, but that seems like an obvious.”

Next, Easton turned to Maeve, understanding that this was the part that actually mattered. Everyone knew Orion was a good soldier, a good person to have next to you. But Maeve had always been a weak point, and it was time he choked down that thought. “You’re small, which means you’re more agile and you’re a harder target to hit. That makes you invaluable when it comes to getting into small places. Sometimes, too much muscle can get you into trouble, and the ability to avoid unnecessary conflict is the way to go. Along with your size, you’ve been trained by people who can fight, which means they haven’t left you defenseless.”

“So far we have stealth on our side. I’m not saying we avoid a fight, but I do think it’s important to play on Maeve’s skillset.” He pointedly did not start listing his own attributes, in part because he was waiting for Orion to laugh all of them off. It was better to build up his team than give them any reason to think him a complete lunatic.

ORION.

“And where do you fit?” he asked, curious as to Easton’s assessment of himself. Orion tried to be honest with himself when he could be, as a part of his whole honesty deal, but there were times where the brain tricked itself without one’s knowledge. Still, he thought he was infallible, mainly because he didn’t go into a situation thinking he would be. Over-confidence was an easy destroyer, but confidence when knowing the stakes meant you didn’t hesitate.

Or he just had a very great deal of overall self-interest and vanity. That could be a contributing factor.

Easton did a good job of evaluating Maeve’s strengths without giving her more credit than was due. Orion would take the hard part, since he thought Maeve might cry if Easton listed her weaknesses and then he’d have to deal with that. “Yes. No one looks at Maeve and thinks ‘ah, yes, stone cold killer.’ It may be best to have you distract the guards outside while we take whoever is in the building, stella mia, as they are in the best position to bring reinforcements into play.” It pained him to say it, because if she couldn’t do it well and was caught, she may end up being held hostage.

On the other hand, not trusting Maeve with something important or asking her to participate less than he would be sheltering her, and she would never grow as a soldier if they did that. It wasn’t shaking someone down, and it required minimum bloodshed. “Do you agree, capitano?” He wasn’t going to challenge if he didn’t. Well, unless Easton’s idea of something better was stupid.

EASTON.

Easton almost shrugged his shoulders before catching himself. No wasn’t the time to fall back on old instincts. He’s faux bravado was necessary, and if he wanted to lead this team, he had to explain just why he was worthy of the title. Anything less, and it was further proof that he should’ve been sitting on the love seat next to Maeve, and Orion would be standing there, giving them their orders.

“I never miss a shot. I’m strong, and capable, and I have no qualms killing someone.” Easton paused before continuing. “I’m also great at disappearing, at remaining quiet even on the most uneven and noisiest of floors.” This was a skill he had picked up when he was younger. He would hide around corners, flat against the walls, listening to what was being said about him in another room. Disappearing had been the easiest trick he had ever learned, and although he grew to be 5’11, he had mastered the magic with ease. Easton revelled in the darkness of shadows.

“I’m usually pretty great in a fight, but I suppose my weakness would be opening front doors.” He smiled slightly as he scratched his chin. There was no stubble to be found on his face, but the action felt soothing.

He listened to Orion’s suggestion and nodded along. “It plays to her strengths, but doesn’t keep her out of a fight. Maeve?” Easton wasn’t about to budge regarding her role to play, but without asking her what she was thinking, any teamwork that they had feigned would seem empty.

MAEVE.

She had never stopped to consider her strengths as a soldier. Her identity was in being a human being, a person who chose love even when it broke her own heart. A girl who believed in good and redemption and hope. As a soldier? Maeve didn’t have the slightest clue how to assess herself. So she listened carefully now as Easton and Orion discussed her capabilities for her own sake as much as theirs, learning about her potential as part of this slightly awkward but not completely hopeless team.

But they had forgotten one thing. “I’m familiar,” she pointed out, “at least to them. I pass by that church on my way to work, smiled at them when we met eye contact. They don’t expect me to be a Capulet, because why else would I be near Montague territory?” The information would have been easy to use against her. Miranda, the unfaithful Capulet. Miranda, the traitor soldier who extended a friendly smile to the enemy.

But she knew the information was useful. She knew it would help them in the mission. “If it comes to a fight, then I’ll fight. It’s easier to knock someone out cold than… the alternative. But I think they would be surprised enough to give me time to make the first move before it comes to anything serious.”

She looked at Easton, then back at Orion. “I’m not… the most violent person, and I also don’t play dirty. But I play smart, and I can handle this.” At least, she hoped she could - for the sake of the three of them getting along.

EASTON.

Easton looked Maeve over and considered her point. There was certainly an advantage to be had when it came to a friendly face. She could lower their defenses long enough to let Easton and Orion sneak by. The obvious issue was, if they did decide to get smart, she would be right in the crosshairs. His gut feeling was to take the chance, to let herself be placed in that situation, even after the entire month so far had been a fight for the contrary.

“If you think you can handle it--” His eyes quickly moved over to look at Orion. “I want you training extra before Thursday. Added sessions. There’s no point in repeating past mistakes, but if you think you’re ready for this, then it’s settled. You take point with distracting the soldiers that are there. Lure them away from their posts.”

“As soon as something feels wrong, you need to react. Don’t second guess yourself.” He felt the need to repeat himself, to give her confidence but to make sure that she knew, as soon as things went south, she would be by herself. Orion and Easton would already be inside, and as quickly as both of the men could run, sometimes that wasn’t enough.

ORION.

Pleased by their progress, Orion didn’t see anything he could complain about. It really wasn’t that complicated, as far as missions went. He nodded at the pointed look Easton gave him, but mainly focused on Maeve. “Do you want to go to the range? A gun may be your best option.” He did not point out why knives might be a dangerous idea, particularly as Maeve was still going through a certain amount of trauma after her first kill. He wasn’t sure he could trust her brain not to freeze her up when it came to harming with one again. A gun had a very different feel to a knife, though, and was easily hidden on one’s person. It also came in handy in knocking people out cold.

He would prefer she load it, but if she didn’t, it was still formidable with the right momentum behind it.

“You and I should train too,” he reminded Easton. “Since we haven’t before. We need to know how we work together.”

MAEVE.

A gun was always meant to be her last option. Her papa had tried, curled her fingers around a handgun and threw a fit when Maeve immediately released it and let it fall to the ground. It makes the kill safer, he’d insisted — and then, with a soft look in his eyes and a quieter voice, added, and easier.

But that was exactly what Maeve was afraid of. “No,” she insisted, more fiercely than she planned. “I’m sticking to my knives.” If she had to spill blood at all, then it would come at a cost; it would hurt her and horrify her.

“But I want to train with you guys too,” she added, looking from Orion to Easton with a growing pout on her lips. “Don’t leave me out, now.”

ORION.

Ah. This was Maeve being stubborn. Orion was well-acquainted with this version of her, and it was one of the ones that made him proudest, even if he thought her reasons behind this move were soft-hearted. Don’t let me run away from this, okay? Maeve’s fragile tones in his ear, with a hint of desperation and beneath that, shame. I don’t want easy forgiveness.

To Orion, there was nothing to forgive her for. He’d done more brutal things on an average Tuesday, yet she asked for him to make it hard on her. He tried to think about it like Everett would, with all the self-flagellating involved, but it mostly made him want to roll his eyes. He still made a point to keep trying to understand them, though the two of them fascinated him exactly because he never would understand.

Reaching out, he set his hand over Maeve’s and squeezed. She was a tactile person, soft-hearted but strong-willed, and asserting her thoughts meant something to him. Independence was one of the key things he stressed in talking to Maeve, in light conversations or serious ones. He had to trust that she knew herself well enough to know she’d use the knife when it came down to it. So rather than contradict her, he would try and raise her spirits.

“You just want to put me on my ass in front of our new capo senza paura,” Orion said with a pout. “But I accept your challenge, bambina feroce. Bring it.”

EASTON.

“Sounds like we need to get to training, then.” Easton looked on at the scene and smiled. Even with the pit in his stomach, he knew that this was just the start. An opportunity. All of this is what he should have done three weeks ago, but life rarely worked so smoothly. Pain was just a part of the process. It tugged at people, ripping them apart, and just as quickly, they were sewn back together. No matter how much Maeve and Orion ended up respecting Easton as their leader, it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

They were on the same side, which in the mafia meant they were family, whether they wanted to be or not. They would bleed and die together--and wasn’t that what Easton wanted? The chance to not only find his family, but to grow among them, and to become something more dangerous than ever. All he had to do was get through this mission and prove to himself and Cosimo that there was more to him than being a shadow.

He could step into the light, and this time, there wouldn’t be hasty mistakes that would get people needlessly killed. This time he would walk hand in hand with his comrades, gun out, jaw set.

“Anything else?” Easton looks at the pair sitting on the couch.

MAEVE.

Maeve squeezed Orion’s hand back, flooded with appreciation for her fellow soldier who always managed to make her feel completely at home in her own skin despite their stark differences. It was a different battlefield with Easton as Everett’s replacement, but this feeling was familiar: a warmth in her chest as Orion made a joke that signaled the end of a meeting, a layer of confidence added to her sense of identity as a soldier, a yearning to please and prove everyone who had doubted her place amongst the Capulets wrong.

This mission had to go well; the peace between the three of them was at stake, and Maeve was willing to go to war to protect the relationships in her life, both familiar and new. Her eyes trained on Easton’s bruised cheek, she tightened her resolve to play her part and more. For Orion and Easton’s sake.

“I propose a movie night if the mission goes well,” she announced, with no room for negotiation in her voice. “But other than that,” Maeve beamed and kissed the back of Orion’s hand on a whim, “I’m good to go.”

16.12.2018

[ ENTER Miranda, as Edmund and Orsino await her signal from the shadows. ]

MAEVE.

The weight of her first mission after taking a life was heavy on her shoulders. It presented a challenge, an opportunity, to prove she was more than a solo mission failed on all accounts. Maeve was ready to meet it head-on. She wanted to see Easton smile, she wanted to make Orion proud, and she wanted to prove to herself that she could see a mission through successfully without repeating the same sin.

Maeve pressed a kiss to the blade of her knife, a tradition she had forgotten to follow on the night she had to take a man’s life that she would never forget again.

She sent a quick text to Orion and Easton, who stood away from her in a more hidden location. I’m going in. Give me two minutes.

It was the stoner guard, and Maeve’s heart dipped with relief at the sight of his absent eyes. “Ciao,” she said, waving a hand. “I wanted to introduce myself, since I see you all the time on my way to work and…” Bashfully, Maeve lowered her gaze and recalled an intimate moment with Cyrus to summon a warm glow to her cheeks. “Just thought it might be nice to get to know you.”

“I’m Miranda,” Maeve continued with a smile, extending her hand. “And you are?”

She wasn’t listening to his response, only enough to make a few comments to goad him into drug-induced rambling. A few nods and hums were enough to keep him going, and Maeve kept an eye out for other guards in the meantime. When she saw one coming around the corner of the church, Maeve turned to Matteo with renewed interest. “I think your friend has visited the coffee shop I work at - maybe you can introduce me?”

Matteo blinked, as if he hadn’t expected anyone else to be in the area. “Oh, yeah - of course.”

It was easy to fool men into believing you when you were young and seemed harmless. A pretty girl like you, they called her, and Maeve smiled and slowly adjusted her footing so their backs were facing the church. Tell me more, she persuaded them, if you two have the time.

It was just the two of them guarding the church, and Maeve had them under lock and key with the batting of her eyes and laugh alone.

She felt a little sick to her stomach, but it was what Easton and Orion needed. Go, she tried to send a telepathic message to them both, go now.

ORION.

Perhaps Everett would’ve watched her with anxiety or trepidation. Orion didn’t have room for that. Instead, his surveillance on Maeve’s progress was filled with curiosity, and with an eagerness to see how she’d changed following her ordeal. Would she act differently, or was she still the same Maeve he’d ran a dozen small missions with under Everett’s strong hand?

No, he thought, delighted with this discovery, she’s better.

There was no fumbling from her; Maeve made it look easy to wrap the guards around her fingers. When they were both in the same area, speaking with her, Orion went back to meet Easton, waiting in an alley close to where the small back entrance was. “We’re good,” he said almost soundlessly, drawing the gun from his back and readying to enter. “I’ll follow.”

EASTON.

So far the plan had gone off without a hitch. Orion had come back towards Easton, signalling that Maeve was taking care of her job, and it was now their turn. Easton nodded, gun in hand, safety off. They had been training together, and in just a few short days, he already felt comfortable with the fact that Orion was going to have his back. Trust wasn’t the right word for it, but he at least knew that if someone shot at him, he wasn’t going to be left behind.

Easton pulled open the door quickly and quietly before putting his gun out in front of him, checking either side of the entryway, and moving inside. Already he could hear voices as they chattered on about their days. Little did they know that they might not have much to complain about soon.

He began walking swiftly, trying to discern how many of those complaining voices he could hear. Three? Five? Six? They had walked into the lion's den, and although they knew this wasn’t the most prized possession of the Montagues, every building mattered. This was a war of attrition, fought tooth and nail for churches like this one that could already feel the neglect that came with being in the possession of the mob.

“We take out anyone we see in the perimeter, all of those in the main sanctuary will have to be last,” Easton whispered, his heart starting to pump on overdrive.

ORION.

Though they mirrored each other more in their mannerisms and ways of handling things, fighting with Easton was not really like fighting with Everett. There was more snappiness to the littler Craven, more bite in areas Everett was circumspect. It had taken some adjustment, and there was nothing of the fluid way he worked in tandem with Everett after 12 or so years fighting together in various ways, but it was enough that they wouldn’t die here. He could match his style to Easton’s with rudimentary competence; a pity that, should things go according to his plans, he wouldn’t need to do much more of that. It was fun, in its way.

Orion nodded at the instruction, following Easton as they entered into the back hallway, which seemed mostly used for storage. In front of them was a tall, heavy curtain, and beyond it was the lectern, which would be clearly visible from the pews. Based on where the voices were coming from, he thought it was likely they were within the benches; if they were cutting rough product, especially, or bagging it, that would be the place to do so.

He fought the urge to laugh as an image popped into his head of some Montague trying out Theo’s new Faerie Blood strain in a confessional. No one had access to it, but watching them as idiots the way he’d felt? It would’ve been pretty damn amusing.

There was a small space with a door off to their right, which would lead them into a narrow space where one could exit without hopping onto the lectern itself. There was a side entrance just beyond it, from what he remembered, but the space was otherwise open. “We should be able to peek,” he whispered, “if careful.” Just to get a solid count on who was beyond the lectern. He hated that the church’s layout didn’t allow them easy access to the front rooms, which they wouldn’t necessarily be able to hear from here, but this would have to do. If reinforcements came from the front, they would have to take them head on.

EASTON.

Easton continued to move forward, listening intently to to Orion’s summation of the layout. Orion’s knowledge, along with Maeve’s familiarity, made the entire plan quicker and easier than it would have been otherwise. No matter how fuzzy his memory, it saved them hours of pouring over old plans that might not even exist anymore. He would bother to thank Orion, but Easton was sure that the man didn’t need much encouragement or positive feedback.

He squeezed himself into the narrow space, his gun still in front of him, and his ears listening in on the conversation the closer they got. The lack of knowing how many people were inside was dangerous, and risky, but Easton didn’t mind. He lived for the fear. The uncertainty was almost made it worth doing in the first place.

Before he lost his nerve, Easton peeked around, willing his eyes to process the information as quickly as he could manage. Five. No, eight people were in his direct line of vision. He felt slightly foolish in only having three people be there, but an order was an order, and there was no point in arguing with Cosimo when what he wanted most was acceptance.

“Eight. You?” He mouthed the words, unwilling to let any more noise than necessary escape. The gun in his hand felt heavier.

ORION.

Orion peeked around the curtain at a different point, confirming from another angle. He counted nine, but one was passing back through to the front, where two other rooms waited for them to explore. Upon seeing Easton’s mouth move, he shook his head and held up nine fingers, four of which were held over the barrel of a gun.

“One headed out,” he mouthed back, “eight left.” Of course, the ninth would be a thorn in their sides once they made noise, but Orion chanced another look, trying to see if anyone was easy to pick off from the crowd.

One paced near the front door with a semi-automatic, truly a mafioso stereotype. Another walked back and forth in front of the lectern, ending his pacing near Easton. It was almost funny, how close he got to where Easton was and never with a clue what was coming.

Orion headed back toward Easton as the close-up guard walked the other way, taking the chance to whisper. “One pacing toward you,” he said, barely a breath. “Others minding their business.” If they could muffle and grab him, they could take one out with a silent weapon before the others noticed, though it would only be about a minute. “Front pews for cover?”

EASTON.

Easton quickly peeked back out, and confirmed Orion’s suspicions. He then nodded, noting that he was up for the plan, and willing to try what they had set out to do. Right now, the numbers weren’t in their favor if they started to open fire blindly, especially with a semi-automatic rifle in the mix. The best chance was to take them out as quietly as possible, and thanks to the complete lack of awareness, their first target had no clue just how close he was to dying.

Before anyone else could enter the picture, Easton moved, appearing from behind the wall and roughly grabbing his target. Without a second thought, he pulled him back to where he had been previously standing, took the silenced gun that was at his side, and squeezed the trigger.

There was too much noise among the men for anyone to hear the pistol being fired, and Easton quickly scrambled to the front pews, waiting for Orion to join him. His hands were dirty, but that was just a hazard of the job. The man he killed didn’t suffer, but most importantly--now there really were just eight men left in the room standing between them and their final goal. But bulldozing through the room wasn’t going to be easy, no matter how accurate their shots. Moving targets with guns were always far more impressive than stationary dummies.

“We won’t be able to do the rest of this quietly.”

ORION.

Easton was as quiet as he said. No one could make this sort of death perfectly silent, but he did a damn good job of trying, and those outside were none the wiser. Orion thought about perhaps waiting for others to come over and investigate where their man went, taking them out like that, but when Easton scrambled out from behind the curtain, it was a moot point.

Orion sighed and waited until their backs were turned a moment before slipping out, getting across to the other side of the pews and kneeling, mirroring Easton. At the barely-vocal summation, Orion nodded, watching the tall figure that started to pace up the aisle. It was the one with the rifle, curious as to what happened to his fellow.

Perfect timing.

As he reached the point of no return, Orion reached upward and grabbed him by the wrist, hearing a brief “che cazzo—” before he pressed his silencer to the man’s chin and pulled the trigger. Blood spritzed the air like the devil’s perfume, and Orion slid the semi-automatic off the dead man’s shoulder as the room exploded into chaos.

Orion grabbed the additional mag from the corpse, rolling his eyes. What many only brought one additional magazine to a party? Che idiota. Still, it gave Orion 20 more rounds to work with, and less time wasted on reloading.

The mag went into a holster on Orion’s kevlar vest as a rain of bullets came from the back of the room. “I’ll cover you,” he said, knowing they didn’t have much time before those bullets started hitting the pews. Unlike the movies, if a real live shell hit the wood in front of him, it’d go right through to his head. The soldatos didn’t know their exact position yet, but it wouldn’t take them long to figure it out. Both him and Easton would need to keep moving to stay alive.

EASTON.

The chaos that erupted made Easton’s mind narrow. There was no more thinking about the bigger picture. No more lamenting his own troubles. His entire history was erased from his memory as he started seeing red. No one could have imagined what a dangerous duo Orion and Easton made, especially not when Orion held a semi-automatic, and nodded to Easton. A surefire sign that things had escalated, and neither of them were going to start running away. They were the kinds of people who thrived best when surrounded by impossibilities.

Easton popped up and shot at the first person he saw, nailing them in the chest as he started weaving in and out of the pews. They provided poor amounts of coverage, thanks to their wooden bases, but it was enough to prevent his own head from being blasted off. The only good thing about the situation was the fact that there was no need to be quiet anymore. Everyone in the Church knew very well that the Capulets were there.

He turned and watched Orion firing, and for a brief moment, Easton managed a smile as he ducked down when a bullet came sailing over his head. More people were trickling in from the front of the Church, and suddenly--Maeve popped into his brain once more. There could be no more dancing around. If everyone here knew what was happening, Maeve was now in the midst of a battle for her life as well.

Easton grabbed at a clip he had shoved in his pocket and reloaded his gun. He was a Captain among the Capulet mafia, and despite the fact he could feel a bullet hit his kevlar vest, he would not bow in prayer before the Montagues assembled before them. In short, all hell broke loose, and Easton simply continued his pattern through the Church, shooting at anyone he saw, and know very well that Orion was putting on a show of his own.

The Church would be theirs. He only hoped they’d make it to Maeve in time.

ORION.

The moment Easton moved, Orion focused on two things: making sure Everett’s kid brother didn’t die, and making sure that he got to Maeve before she needed them. It was annoying having to duck and weave while basically on his knees as he moved between rows of empty wooden pews, but he knew the moment he stopped moving, he or both of them would die.

So he kept going. When Easton coaxed people into shooting at him, Orion shot them in the neck, head, or shoulder, depending on what he could line up easy. That only worked three times before people started splitting their attention, and he laid down, managing just barely to fit under the space between the bench and the floor. If he’d counted correctly, the updated number of those still upright in the room, even with additionals coming in from the front, was down to six or seven — he couldn’t be sure. In any case, he hoped that left very little reinforcement to deal with Maeve.

He watched as footsteps approached, clearly trying to take advantage of the distracting barrage from the front and side-swipe him from behind. Orion smiled; at least one person here had an ounce of sense. He slid his pocketknife out and flicked it open, waiting until the crouched legs stopped to look down the row they expected him to be in, and slashed out at her achilles. The pain caused her to lose her balance, and he rolled, pressing the semi-automatic against her chin and pulling the trigger. It was messy, but it got the job done; he just hoped Easton had survived his briefly diverted attention.

MAEVE.

Honestly, Maeve was beginning to like them. Matteo and Samuel, they were nice boys. On any other day, she would never have suspected that they had pledged their souls to the Montague cause and spilled the blood of those who blasphemed against Damiano. When Matteo put his arm around her shoulders as he laughed, she knew they couldn’t possibly see her as a Capulet, either, and it felt good to do something right. To do something well. She almost wished someone were there to see and be proud of her.

The moment she thought it, the sound of a gunshot split the air wide open. In one fluid motion, Maeve pulled the stiletto knife from her pocket. Keeping it hidden behind her wrist, she smiled as Matteo and Samuel began to hastily excuse themselves. “Not yet, miei amici,” she called out.

They were still processing exactly what she meant when Maeve struck. Turning nimbly and letting her practiced footwork lead her, she buried her knife deep into Matteo’s shoulder. She visibly winced at the sound he made. “Spero che mi perdoni,” Maeve whispered as she pulled her weapon from his arm and took nimble steps away from Samuel’s reach, daring him to come closer.

But instead, he ran. “Coward!” she cried out, her heart hammering with adrenaline, with regret, with fear that Easton and Orion would be hurt because she could not injure two throwaway soldiers. She would not disappoint them; she would not disappoint herself, either.

The knife in her hand was one of her favorites, a trusted companion of hers whose weight and sharpness she knew intimately. Throwing it at Samuel came easily, and she sent a quick prayer (ignoring the irony of it all) for her aim to strike true. The knife sunk into the back of his thigh, and she wanted to cheer and sob the moment Samuel fell to the ground.

A few feet away, Matteo looked up at her with a hand pressed to his injured shoulder. His tears fell to the ground and Maeve hardened her heart against the sight of it; she would not kneel with him, she would not give him the opportunity to take advantage of her mercy and use it against her. She would not let her blood join his for kindness’ sake; Easton and Orion were depending on her.

“I am sorry,” she said — loudly this time — as she reached for the knife in her boot, “but you bleed gold. I had to.”

“I’ll see you bleed too,” he spat at her. “I’ll see you bleed silver.”

But she was already bleeding, even as she ran past Matteo and Samuel both to sneak into the church. She was bleeding the only way she knew how: by sacrificing everything she knew and cherished for the sake of loving others and the potential to be loved in return.

But she had forgotten the first lessons Orion had ever taught her. Desperate to help her friends, Maeve had both turned her back against the enemy and underestimated them. Behind her, Samuel reached for his own weapon and aimed for Maeve’s spine with his handgun.

A spot of red blooming on the back of her shoulder, Maeve crumpled to the ground.

EASTON.

He could feel the places where the bullets had struck his body armor. Easton was well aware of the fact that those places would hurt for days to come, but other than that, the only thing he had was a few passing grazes from bullets, and legs that were starting to feel more like lead than anything else. He was fucking exhausted. It felt like he had run an entire marathon. Ever shot of his gun made his muscles ache with the recoil, and it was then that he heard commotion that wasn’t coming from inside the church.

Maeve.

After what happened last time, Easton knew it had become his responsibility to make sure that she was home in one piece. Everyone knew that her role was a tricky one, and with the guns firing wildly within the church, it was only a matter of time before she was in the direct line of fire. His only hope was that she was able to get them before they could get her.

One last pull of the trigger, and Easton sprinted out the main door. He could see a form crumpled on the ground, and without further need for inspection, he knew it had to be Maeve. She was so much smaller than he remembered.

Behind her form was her attacker, gun in hand, mouth set hard. He didn’t flinch when he felt another bullet hit his chest, the armor absorbing it, but still almost knocking the wind out of his lungs. Easton kept his own gun raised, and pulled the trigger. In a matter of minutes, everything seemed to go silent. Where there was once a fury of gunfire, now there was an eeriness as he could hear the labored breathing of people in pain.

ORION.

Orion was too distant and too well hidden to realize one gunshot among the rest was embedded in Maeve. What made him move, accelerating the way only someone with about half a decade of experience on these soldiers could, was Easton scrambling away, foregoing their remaining few enemies in a sprint he knew could only mean one thing.

Maeve needed them.

He’d already killed five people this night, but when he poked his head up, there were two more barely hidden around the room, taking pot-shots at Easton as he disappeared into the foyer. No longer enjoying the cat and mouse game, Orion rolled forward and put a bullet in a woman’s eye from across the room, flattening out again while her compatriot rained fire on his location until he heard the sound of a magazine being ejected and knew he had precious seconds while the remaining soldato was forced to reload.

This might have been where he interjected something witty, but Orion, for once, had no care for pithy remarks. He needed to get to Maeve, and he needed to line the streets with the blood of whoever harmed her. There was no other goal in his mind; Orion’s remaining kills within the church itself were nothing more than obstacles.

He fired the semi-automatic five times before the last man in the room lay dead, his brain in pieces on the ground behind him. Orion didn’t spare him a glance, moving forward with savage grace as he tossed the weapon to the ground, one hand holding a knife and the other the gun he’d brought, silencer still screwed on tight.

There was a moment where he took in the scene — Maeve on the ground, face down, blood pooling around her as Easton stood above her, firing out into the open air in front of the church. Though he saw one body hit the ground, another was stumbling to his feet and toward the street to make an escape. Orion’s need for vengeance warred with his need to protect Maeve, a vicious feeling beneath his skin that wanted both, now, immediately. The thing that decided him was nothing practical, not when logic said it would be more efficient to keep running and let Easton do triage on Maeve’s wounds, as he was already frozen in place.

Cool logic faced down raw emotion, and whatever that shriveled thing in his chest was… it won out, stunning him even as he fell to his knees. “One runner,” he said to Easton as he assessed Maeve’s damage. The wound was to the back of her shoulder, her every move causing blood to flow faster. Orion put a hand on the back of Maeve’s neck to steady her, knees and hands quickly sticky with blood. His eyes were nothing human when he looked up, nothing but the animal of chaos and wild fury as he stared at Easton. “Move. I have her.”

And he would not leave her to Easton’s care. He didn’t trust him. With Everett or even Rafaella, he could leave Maeve to hunt the ones that had hurt her, but not this man who’d already endangered her once. It was still too fragile a bond between them, too nascient for the faith required to leave Maeve behind.

His phone smeared with blood as he got it out and used Siri to call Taide; there was no way he was dragging Maeve blocks and blocks to where they’d parked the car tonight. Instead, he used his driver’s emergency line, knowing she would break every traffic law known to man to get there, even having barely rolled out of bed.

Orion didn’t use the emergency line unless things were desperate.

“Stay awake, sorellina,” he said, stripping out of the kevlar vest and then down to his undershirt, using the fabric to put pressure on the wound before putting the kevlar back on, just in case. “It’s going to hurt, but it’ll hurt me if you die. Do you know that? I won’t let that happen.” His white shirt was slowly soaking through, but it wasn’t immediate; that was something, right? “Tell me about how good you did out there. No one called for reinforcements at all.” Anything to keep her from falling asleep, even though the blood loss would tug her further and further in that direction. His phone chimed.

2 minutes.

EASTON.

Easton didn’t flinch when Orion spoke to him. He knew that the trust they held was fragile, and would easily break. There was no point in fighting during this kind of situation. Besides, if anything, Easton would have preferred taking down the runner than dealing with Maeve’s injury. At least right now he could feel like he was doing something more than just waiting. So Easton turned, and didn’t look back on the scene. That was a private sort of moment that wasn’t meant for him, and he would add this to the list of things that he wouldn’t fully grasp.

He could see the runner clutching his shoulder, and he knew Maeve must have got him good. There was complete desperation in the man’s movement, and Easton understood that he had to get him before he could sound the alarm. Nothing else mattered besides making sure that no one else would come upon his small team. Maeve could barely move, and Orion was clearly compromised for the moment.

Before the man could step foot into the range of other people, Easton grabbed him by the mouth and dragged him back into the shadows. There was blood everywhere. He could feel it soaking through his own shirt, dripping down his hands. This was a messy sort of business. No matter how much planning was done, nothing could stop the chaos from spreading, especially when guns were involved.

The man moved to say something, and Easton didn’t let him. He took hold of either side of the man’s head, and in one quick motion, he snapped his neck.

Easton walked back to the scene of Maeve and Orion, dragging the corpse of the Montague soldier. He would throw him with the rest of his friends. The place was a mess, but there was no use in spreading the blood across the city. Containment had always been key.

“I’ll stay behind and clean up the best I can.”

MAEVE.

She doesn’t realize she’s been shot until she opens her eyes and sees the blood on the ground. For a moment, Maeve assumes it belongs to Orion; how can anything so vibrantly and furiously red belong to someone with a glowing pink soul, like her? But then she looks up to find Orion’s eyes and realizes she’s the one on the ground, she’s the one with the wind knocked out of her.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she promises Orion, though she flinches as she tries to move her hand to hold his cheek. There’s an edge to his voice she’s never heard before, not like this, and it makes her ache more than the burning feeling on her back. “It doesn’t hurt, don’t worry.”

Turning her head, Maeve watches Easton. She doesn’t blink as he grabs one of the soldiers out of her vision. It’s strange, to feel a distant numbness when Maeve realizes Easton will kill him. She should feel guilty, sad, mournful; instead, she’s just glad she got the chance to apologize beforehand. She’s just glad Easton will be successful and Orion is alive.

How silly it is, that she is the one to get shot when she only had two boys to control - while Easton and Orion secured an entire church full of far more lethal Montagues.

Orion’s still speaking, his voice raw with an emotion she can’t name because she’s never attached it to Orion before. It’s almost soothing, and Maeve smiles up at him serenely. “I’m not going to die.” She puts her hand on his arm that’s holding her steady. “You won’t let me.”

It’s true; her faith and trust in Orion and Easton are absolute and bottomless. She knows that they will do everything they can. Because they’re a team. Because they’re Capulets, and this is what Capulets do for each other. She recalls Rafaella or Vivianne or perhaps even her papa preaching something about loyalty and families forged by blood. Finally, she understands.

So this is what it means to be a Capulet. It’s the last thought she has before her consciousness slips and the hand on Orion’s arm falls to the ground.

ORION.

She means to be comforting, but knowing it doesn’t hurt only increases Orion’s inner panic. Outwardly he’s positive he looks almost deadly with it, control and violent anger merging into a face too placid to be real, but on the inside he feels... gutted. Shredded by the thought of her bleeding out, though he knows she won’t. Taide has never once failed him, and she won’t now. Still, 2 minutes is a long time to bleed.

His hand returns to the back of her neck and squeezes, gently, so gently, trying not to do anything that’ll hurt her any further. “Don’t move, Maeve. You have to stay still.” There’s an air of command to it, but there’s desperation there, too. “I damn well will worry,” he argued, wishing he could laugh and hating that he couldn’t, the way the sound stuck in his throat even though he knew it would comfort her.

He sees through her platitude but stops short afterward; it isn’t what he expected to hear. He knows he won’t let Maeve die, knows it like he knows his own name, but that Maeve knows sends a wave of anxiety and tenderness through him. Trust. So rare to come by when you were Orion Massetti. All the more precious, for its own sake.

Taide’s car screeches to a halt in front of them, not quite two minutes after she said she’d be there. She does exit in nothing but a rather sheer nightgown, something so much more femme than her usual taste he would normally comment, but there’s nothing to say as she throws open the door and helps him gently put Maeve inside. She’d passed out by now, and Orion thinks it’s both horrifying and some kind of blessing. This much movement probably would’ve hurt her a lot, but he knows passing out means close to brain damage levels of blood loss. He won’t let that happen, running around to the other side of the car and pausing only to nod at Easton’s words as he returns.

He can’t focus on Easton, can’t focus on anything but the way Maeve’s blood stains his hands. It’s the first time he’s ever felt terrible having this much blood on them. The first time he’s cared so much.

His phone might break after this, but he doesn’t care, one arm stabilizing an unconscious Maeve while the other dials Everett’s number almost on autopilot.

His first thought should’ve been for Maeve’s father, but it wasn’t. It never would be. He and Everett had taken responsibility for her when she entered his borgata, and he knew hearing Everett’s voice would be the only thing to slightly ease the sick panic in his chest as Tiade violated every law in the book to get them to the hospital.

Maeve, of course, could not die. As the world knew, Orion wouldn’t allow it.

#{.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ EDMUND & MIRANDA | oo1.#{.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ EDMUND | born to be someone's bullet.#{.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ MIRANDA | roses into the black sky.#{.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ 9 DECEMBER.#{.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ 16 DECEMBER.#murder cw #gratuitous violence cw #graphic violence cw #knives cw #guns cw #blood cw #gore cw #back injuries cw

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amoristt · 7 years

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Alive | Rick x Reader

@dinodiegos asked: Can u gimme some sick fuckin rick just protect in ur sweet ass from some zoms pls and thank you love you

Hell Yeah you can owo

im dumb and accidentally made this more into action than romance so sorry abt that FHDJFS i wrote too much to just up and toss it out. hope you like it anyways and if u want one that’s Romance Specific hmu bc i love rick

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

warning: mild language, gore

Alive

Any second now you felt like you were going to collapse against the concrete.

Your shoes, already worn down from wearing them so often, felt like they were going to fall apart and leave your heels scraping, but you didn’t stop sprinting for even a second. Garbled groans and incoherent cries of the dead sounded from everywhere, leaving your head spinning. You were surrounded.

The sun was starting to shift beneath the tree’s horizon, and it seemed what was supposed to be a short supply run quickly took a turn for absolute worst. If you weren’t so entirely focused on searching for a way out you’d be worrying about where they had all come from but right now the only thing on your mind were two things: run, find Rick.

And to think, your day with Rick originally hadn’t started out bad at all.

The first stop the two of you made wasn’t too shabby, and you found yourself with a new hoodie and a hat for when the colder temperatures would start to settle in. Rick found some baby clothes stuffed into a dresser (which neither of you thought too deeply about) and you fawned over how small the item was, telling him Judith would look adorable in the pink and red top. There was a medicine cabinet with a few leftover vitamin and motrin bottles, along with bandaids and what looked to be some sort of disinfectant. It wasn’t a whole lot, but it better than nothing. Plus you and him had rounded up some more things from your previous run two days ago, so for the moment Alexandria was good.

On the way home you felt pretty good about the day. Rick was playing Cd’s that he’d scrounged up from one place or another, and you had a hand out the window, enjoying the push of the wind against your palms. In between the front and passenger seat where yours and Rick’s hands, locked together casually. With all the years having gone by you’d learn to enjoy the good days when they came, even if the world around you was in shambles. Odd how an apocalypse can make a slightly warm temperature and no murder a ‘good day’.

Things became a little bumpier as the day progressed, however. You’d passed by a few walkers here and there, their haggled and rotting corpses trying to stumble towards the moving vehicle with no avail. Neither of you thought much of it- It was the end of the world. Not seeing any walkers for the duration of your run would have been odd. Eventually though those occasional solo walkers became more and more, their numbers growing with every mile it seemed. They hung out mostly along the sides of the road, bumping into one another by trees and ditches.

After another mile or two the numbers thinned out again, and your nerves started to die down like before. Four or five became two or three, and finally there was nothing once more.

“What do you think happened?” you’d asked, eyebrows knit in mild concern. The car was quite a distance away from Alexandria, so the walkers didn’t pose an (immediate) threat to everyone yet. However you were still worried- something must have brought them all here.

Rick sucked in a breath and shrugged, tilting his head. “Can’t say. They’re spread out, though. If somethin’ brought em’ here it was a while ago.”

“Yeah,” You leaned back and stared blankly out the windshield, trying to shake off the odd dread that was building in your gut. “Guess you’re right.”

Rick’s eyes left the road for a moment at the sound of your voice, and he took in your expression before turning back to the wheel. His hand squeezed yours lightly.

“Don’t worry much about it,” He started reassuringly, “They’re far out here.”

“I know, I just-...” You shook your head. “We don’t have the best luck when it comes to walkers, Rick.”

He nodded once. “I know that, but right now we gotta focus on this. When we get back I’ll have someone keep an eye out just incase, sound good?”

“That sounds… Good.” A small smile found it’s way to your lips, the corners tugging up as you looked back out the window.

After that the car ride was spent in another comfortable silence, and you replayed what Rick had told you over and over in your head. Despite how you tried to tell yourself it would be fine, something felt wrong. Something felt dangerous, and it left you sitting there in a state of apprehension that you kept entirely to yourself. Even if you talked to Rick about it you knew what he’d say- that there was nothing to be worried about and that even if the walkers found their way to Alexandria, there was more than enough gunpower and people to wipe them out before they even got close the gate. Still, even thought you knew he was entirely right, anxiety settled heavily in your gut.

Miles even farther away, a few businesses sat in a circle of road. It looked to be some sort of strip mall, all the signs mostly broken down and laying in piles of rubble on the cracked parking lot. There were multiple empty cars sitting idle in their spots, all of them covered in years worth of grime and rust. The car you and Rick pulled up in looked like a million dollars compared to the rest, even if it had it’s own fair share of weathering down.

“One last stop?” Rick asked you, and you bit your lip. One last stop couldn’t hurt.

You agreed, and to avoid getting trapped in the lot, Rick made the choice to pull off the main road and part in the grass a bit away. You should have listened to your dread-filled gut when he turned the car off and hopped out, you following his lead and shoving your hands into your pockets. The small strip mall didn’t look like too bad of a place to search. Clothing stores, mini groceries, pretty much a huge variety of very useful things that Alexandria could use.

It was too good of a chance to pass up, so when Rick gave you that look of his, you nodded and allowed him to lead the way with his gun drawn. At first things were quiet. Only the sound of your steps on concrete could be heard, and soon you and him split off and allowed a few cars in between. You had your own gun held tight in your hands, your mouth dry as tension on increased in your muscles. Any moment now… Things were going to go wrong.

When things didn’t, in fact, go wrong, you scolded yourself for being such a baby. Sure, you were in a life threatening situation, but there was no real reason in that very moment for you to be acting like a cautious cat. As Rick gestured that he was going to branch further away, you allowed him to and rolled your shoulders in an attempt to calm yourself down. The last thing you needed was to be spooked by a sound and accidentally fire your gun at nothing. Then you’d really be in some shit.

Thankfully something about shifting your muscles did seem to loosen you up just enough to glide past a few more cars, eyes peeled and finger flush against the trigger while you made your way closer to shop at the very end of the strip mall: a grocery outlet. Both of the glass doors were wide open and shattered, the windows spray painted with what looked like horribly drawn atomic bomb mushroom clouds. You laughed silently to yourself and shook your head before coming closer. You poked your head into the building, peering into the darkness, and a pin-dropping silence took over.

All at once everything fell apart.

A piercing siren cut through the air, destroying the jarring silence with its merciless screaming. You realized, with crushing horror, that it was your car alarm.

It wailed and wailed and wailed, the sound making you launch away from the doors and back out into the parking lot. Panicking, your fear only doubled over when you didn’t see Rick over the tops of the cars. You weren’t close enough to the road to see the car but you knew damn well that was it was- a walker must have heard you pull into the grass before turning it off and the stupid thing thought there was people inside. It had set the alarm off, and now you were alone and barely armed surrounded by a labyrinth of vehicles.

You knew all too well what was to come next, and low and behold, you were right as always.

The first walker that made way through the line up of broken down cars was a tall one missing it’s left arm. Initially it was following the noise, but when you halted to a sharp stop and gasped it took note of you in the corner of it’s eye and reached out with it’s one last hand. You grimaced and took a few steps back, aiming to turn around and dart towards where you assumed Rick was, but when you turned around your heart fell to your stomach. Walkers, nearly a dozen of them, were spilling around the end of the strip mall and making their way into the parking lot. If you hadn’t already been spotted by one you’d just shove yourself down under a truck or something, but it was hot on your heels and coming closer despite how easily it’s attention could be grabbed by the siren blaring.

Darting left and trying to hide yourself from all the walkers pooling, you cursed under your breath. Your gun didn’t have nearly enough ammo to take on this many, and shooting them could make things arguably worse. If you started shooting then Rick would start shooting and who knows how many more that could attract. Instead of opening fire you just continued trying to make your way to his side of the mall, but you were stopped dead in your tracks at the horrific sight ahead. Even more walkers. They were hobbling towards the car as well, slamming into dead cars on the way.

Along with the car alarm still howling, you could hear the disgusting moans of the dead starting to surround you. With them both behind you and in front of you, you were trapped, and you tried to wrack your mind for something to do. You didn’t have enough time to hit the dirt and slide under a car- not that it would work in the first place because you were being hunted by the walker with one arm. You couldn’t just up and scream for Rick either because then it would attract them all. The only option you could see was maybe trying to get into a shop, but if the door was locked you were entirely fucked. They’d see you make the run for it, and if you couldn’t get in right away they’d barrage you in seconds.

Heart thudding in your chest, you barely registered when a walker passed by the car you were hiding behind. It hadn’t seen you, too focused on the sound, but your jump-scared induced reaction surely caught the attention of a few more that cut across their path to find their way to you.

Not knowing what else to do, you ran.

From one car to the next you jumped over hoods, bounced off doors and hauled yourself in between them trying to get away from the ever-growing walkers compiling behind you. Everything was happening at once- it felt like you were going to pass out right then and there. Rick was still nowhere to be seen and immediately your brain started filling in imaginary blanks.

They’d gotten to him. He couldn’t make it out fast enough. He’s dead.

Moans of the dead grew closer once again and you pushed yourself even harder. Walkers still chased you like a game past the obstacles of cars, and even though it would mean heading straight for the walkers in front of you, you still tried to get close to the area where Rick had been. He was closer to the car than you were given you were on the other end of the parking lot, maybe he was trying to get inside of it to turn the ever blaring alarm off. Maybe he was hiding inside a shop like you’d considered.

Finding that dodging cars and moving around them was taking too much of your time, you opted to choosing an aisle and taking a straight sprint down the line. Cars passed by you in a blur, and you quickly found yourself at the other end of the parking lot. However, it wasn’t the right end you wanted to be on. You were still far from where Rick had parked, and you were still being chased.

You made the impulse choice to give into your natural instinct to hide, choosing a van to duck behind before moving to the truck next to it. Without a seconds hesitation you dropped to your knees then your belly, using the massive tire next to your body to help haul yourself underneath the truck. You hoped, prayed that they lost sight of you when you hid behind the van. Your heart slammed against your ribcage when you caught sight of their shuffling feet coming closer, their ripped up jeans and shoes visible as they stumbled around in search of you. Looking behind, the sight of feet surrounded you almost entirely.

Dulled out shoes of all color stepped around the truck, their actions much slower and less driven than before. You physically covered your mouth just incase you were giving off any sort of sound, and all you could think about was how easy it would be for one to drop down and grab you. In the case that one happened to see you, it would be over. You would be trapped. You would die.

The walkers continued to hang around, stepping menacingly by the perimeter of the truck. You could have cried when a few branched off and disappeared, their attention having been grabbed once again by the alarm still running. One by one pairs of feet shuffled away from you, some quicker than others, and eventually you found yourself alone in your hiding spot. All at once you released the heaving breath you had been holding, your hand coming to run through your hair. Every part of your skin was clammy, your entire body trembling with coursing adrenaline.

Unable to stand even another moment underneath the truck, you scooted your way to the side and picked yourself up on the ground. For just a moment it seemed like you’d avoided the storm of walkers, their disfigured bodies moving to swarm the vehicle quite a ways away. You allowed yourself to breath, leaning forward and holding your hands on your knees while your chest rose and fell rapidly. When you looked up, eyes frantically scanning over the tops of all the cars, you still couldn’t see Rick over the horde.

You tried to see past all the moving bodies, but something stopped you. A sharp movement right in the corner of your eye. With barely any time to react, you weren’t able to tear yourself away when a hand gripped tight to your forearm. You jumped and bit back a startled cry, and then you came face to face with that same damn walker from before. Up close it was even uglier than you could have imagined, it’s face rotted and it’s jaw hanging open awkwardly. It’s eyes were so sunken and horrid.

Instinctively your free hand came up to rip at the walkers fingers, trying to free yourself. When it didn’t let up you opted to just backing up and putting your weight into jerking away, but nothing was working. Suddenly you were more than thankful that the walker only had one arm- if he had both of them he could likely take an even better grip and keep you pinned in your spot. Your mind raced for something to do, some way to pry the walker away from you without setting off the gun in your hand. To try and stop him from taking a bite at your face, you used your other arm and pressed it to the walkers chest to keep those teeth away from your skin. It didn’t help that he was taller than you, somewhat towering over your figure with his broken jaw attempting to bite around nothing. The thought to hide returned and in one fell push, you lunged forward off your toes and managed to send the walker toppling backwards onto the ground. It thudded and squirmed, it’s one arm working to find purchase.

With the way your mind was desperately thinking about what to do, it was no surprise that your limbs couldn’t keep up with every thought that raced by. As the walker writhed on the ground you made a move to escape its view by running around to the other side of the truck, but in your absolute panic you overshot your turn and slammed harshly into the metal front. Unfortunately, the combination of your already shaking muscles mixed with just how hard you’d slammed into the truck made for a deadly turn. You fell harshly onto the pavement, hands not quote catching you in time to stop your chin from hitting the ground. Pain shot through your leg, what if you’d broken it? The walker behind you had rolled onto its stomach by now. You scrambled in your spot, bringing yourself up halfway before you were yanked back down. Fingers wrapped iron-tight around your ankle, broken nails digging tightly into the flesh barely exposed with your pants rising up your leg.

The threat of being scratched and infected became very apparent, and you made the stupid, fear fueled response to try and kick the walker's head. It barely affected the walker, not feeling the pain from the blunt hits, so it just continued trying to either pull you down or pull itself up to you instead. Your gun had clattered out of reach, resting underneath the truck where you’d once been hiding.

Fear rose like bile up to your chest. You continued kicking at it, praying that some part of it’s skull would give and allow you break free, but it never happened. Frantic, you tried to roll out of it’s grasp, but when you stopped on your back you gasped out at the sight of another walker B-lining it straight towards you. It was a few cars away but moving fast, and with your current position at being unable to stand, if that walker arrived… That would be it. You would die.

A million words screamed at you but this time they weren’t of escaping. They were of the potential aftermath- Rick finding your corpse. What little family you had left mourning for you.

One thought stuck out more than the rest. If this was how you were to die, it was going to fucking hurt. You were going to suffer immensely, and finally adrenaline rushed through you all over again. Like a rabid animal you fought, twisting, turning, sitting up to tear at the walkers fingers. In your fight the grip loosened and in that very second you ripped away your leg and sent a kick straight into the walkers face. It’s skull ruptured against your powerful kick and nothing in your entire life had felt more satisfying than the bone crushing. The walker went limp, it’s face hitting the concrete with a thud.

Free from your grip you rapidly rolled over onto your hands and knees, but you didn’t get too far. As if it were one thing after another, a shadow covered over your still immobile body. That walker was right up on you, standing merely a foot away with it’s eyes fixated it’s prey. Something about the sight of it so close while you felt so tiny stopped you. You froze. Every part of you screamed to move but you couldn’t, paralyzed in your spot even as it started to drop down to make its attack. There was nothing in it’s eyes. It’s teeth clipped together. It’s rotting fingers reached-

A shot rang out.

The walker fell like a pile of bricks right in front of you. Everything sounded like it was underwater, and you felt like you were moving in slow motion as you tried to bring yourself to your feet. When you almost fell back onto your knees thanks to your uncoordinated limbs, you were forced back into your right mind when yet another hand came to grab tight on your shoulder, the fingers sliding down to your forearm where they clasped and literally pulled you up onto your feet.

Fight kicked in once again and you turned on your heel, not taking a second look before you put your hands flat against the figure's chest before you shoved hard. It did not fall flat on it’s ass like you thought it would, but it did lose it’s grip. However, you stopped in your tracks at the sight of what it was.

Rick.

Blood spattered his shoulders and the front of his shirt, his eyes just as frantic and intense as yours probably were. At your outburst against him, he steadied himself and rose his hands to his chest, his gun held tight in his grip.

“Where were you?!” Without thinking your arms outreached, grabbing him tight by the cloth of his shirt, and you pulled him as close as you could. You thought for a time there that you’d lost him, all those horrible ‘what if’s playing tricks on your mind and sanity. But, he was right there, and he had saved your life like he always did.

“I was trying to get to you,” His arms came to wrap about you protectively, allowing you your moment of recollection, before he pushed you away and brought you down to crouch along the side of the truck. “Listen to me, listen to me. They’re gonna be coming here any minute now- we gotta find a way to get back around to the car.”

You tugged at your hair, eyes scanning over the ground as you debated what to do. “Why are there so many of them?”

“I don’t know. Somethin’ brought em here.”

“I knew something was going to go wrong-”

“Hey, hey,” He held your face in his hands to stop you from your spiralling. “I know, you were right. But right now we gotta get out of this.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded, sucking in a deep breath before taking a peek through the windows. Sure enough, the walkers were coming, but they hadn’t yet seen you. They aimlessly followed the area, growing closer but without much direction.

“Okay-” You tried to compose yourself by wiping over your face quickly. “Okay, they havn’t seen us yet.”

“But they know we're here,” Rick too took a glance through the musty glass windows. “Van,” He made a motion for you join him and you did, trying to follow his line of sight. “Right there. If we can cut across without being seen we can hide behind there. The walkers think we’re over here, where the sound was. They won’t know we left.”

You nodded and tried to not let the oncoming walkers psych you into acting too brashly again. “How do we get over there?”

“We run.”

You sent him a sharp glance. “Obviously, but how do we make sure they don’t see us?”

Rick took a moment to think, eyes narrowing at the stared at the van, then the walkers, then the van again. After a moment he nodded towards the walkers passing by the cars. “See that little gap?” You sprained your neck to see, and there it was. About a dozen of walkers stuck close together, and in between another handful there was a small gap that left a few cars left alone for a brief time. “When they split up, we cut across from that blue car to the red one. Now, if we stay low and move fast enough, we can make it to that van. They aren’t goin’ over there- they’ll go right by to get to here.”

Nodding, you swallowed again. This was so incredibly risky- even just one seeing you and him saunter from one vehicle to the next would be catastrophic. Still, you needed to get to your own car. It’s wailing was going to attract even more if you didn’t put a stop to it now. At your nod of understanding, Rick crouched back down again and brought you with him. His hand moved to grab yours, and even in that crucial moment, you stopped to take in his expression.

He was uncertain, fear coloring those blue eyes of his. You knew exactly what he was doing- in times like this he liked to have a ‘one last look’ of sorts should something happen. With a squeeze of assurance you nodded once more at him, mouthing the words, ‘It will be okay’. Quickly, he dipped in and kissed you once, twice. You kissed him right back, eyebrows furrowed in worry. You couldn’t lose him.

When he pulled away his eyes fixated on your hands momentarily before he plunged himself right back into his mind. In a second flat he let go of your hand and passed you, holding his hand up to tell you to stay sill behind him. Your stomach was in all sorts of knots, your legs shaking with all the movement and fear, but when he looked back at you before taking off you followed him with no regards. Instantly the two of you were behind another car, this one much smaller than the truck. Close behind Rick, he led you from one end to the other, and he stopped to peek over the hood of the car before once again darting across the opening before finding cover in another vehicle. Every single time you passed from car to car, those few seconds where you were bare it felt like you were going to either get grabbed or seen.

Eventually the horde was no longer coming right at you. They still hobbled towards where the gunshot rang out but you were on the side of them now, watching them go past. In the distance straight ahead you could see the van, it’s dirty white sticking out against the dimming daylight. Nausea settled deep within your gut as Rick stopped at the far end, waiting for the walkers to break up enough for him to make a break for it. This would be the hardest part. If you and him didn’t run at the exact right moment, if you took too long or went too early, you would be seen and chased. At that point, however, the two of you would be surrounded on either side.

You wished that you could’ve just stayed where you were, but the second half of the walkers were well on their way and unfortunately if you stayed you would be directly into their path. That van would be the only spot where you could hide without being in the way or being detected.

Still standing in front of you, hand up to keep you halted, Rick looked back at you. “Ready?” He mouthed, and even though fright had you by the throat you still nodded. Seconds dragged on like hours, your heart thudding harshly in your ears while you waited for him to make a move. The car siren only lightened your nerves up further. The waiting was agonizing; scenarios played out like movies in front of your eyes. So much could go wrong-

Rick took off. He kept low to the ground while he moved, his actions swift and precise. Everything in your mind went blank as you reacted on instinct, following his lead. Leaving the cover of the car made you feel naked, passing from car to car at such a crucial moment felt like it was taking forever. Step after step, you swore that something had seen you. The last step you made before joining Rick behind the van was much for forceful, your body nearly toppling over when you finally made it.

Rick fingers came to grab at your arms, tugging you close to him while he moved from the front of the van to the back, keeping sure to watch the walkers through the tinted glass windows. When he finally came to a stop, letting your arm fall back to your side, you held your breath.

“Did they see us?” You whispered, and when he didn’t answer right away you felt your stomach drop.

“No,” Rick shook his head and exhaled roughly. “No. They didn’t see.”

Your head fell for a moment, a breath of utter relief making its way out of your lips. They didn’t see.

Walkers passed by the van, the two of you on the other side of it watching them unknowingly pass you right by. They gathered around the dead body of the one Rick had shot, then all their eyes searched aimlessly for something to take sight of. Thankfully, you and him were gone.

As the last of them passed by to join the group, Rick nodded his head to motion for you to follow him as he made his way around the car, stopping at the trunk and taking a peek around the end before darting out of the cover. Now that the horde had been attracted to the other side of the parking lot, it was a race to get to your car before any others did. A straight shot past a couple dozen vehicles and you’d be there- and Rick knew that.

You followed close behind him, the two of you dead sprinting down the line. He was faster than you and more experienced in running but you managed to stay on his heels, legs aching when you realized you were in the final haul. Only a few more yards and you’d be there. The siren made your ears ring as you drew nearer but that didn’t stop you or him for even a second. If anything it motivated you, making your speed increase. Down the road you could see the blurry figures of walkers being attracted to the sound.

Being right next to the car made your head spin with the sound of the alarm, and you could hear Rick cursing as he shoved the key into the lock before swinging open his door and then forcing they key into into the ignition. All at once everything went quiet, the car starting up and the alarm turning off now that the key had been inserted. The very instant the doors unlocked you threw it open and jumped inside, not waiting to be properly in your seat before slamming the door shut. Rick, in a frenzy to leave the area entirely, pressed hard on the gas and made a rough U-turn back on the road. He didn’t waste a second in flooring it down the street and away from the horde. Growing closer to the walkers you’d seen earlier, he narrowly avoided running them over as he made the getaway. They watched the car barrel past thim with lagging minds, and seeing them disappear in the distance had you leaning back in your seat with a hand splayed over your eyes.

“Jesus christ,” you panted. “Jesus christ I thought that was gonna’ be it.”

“Hey,” Rick averted your attention to him, his hand coming to rest on your leg. “We made it. We’re out.” He was breathing heavy too, and you could see him checking the rearview mirror every few seconds just in case.

“Worst fucking luck ever.”

He looked at you for a moment before turning back to the road like he did earlier, but this time his features were so much harder. “We’re out.” He said, but you weren’t sure if he was saying that to help you down or he himself.

“I thought I lost you,” You whispered, resting your hand overtop his own. “I couldn’t find you, and I-” Within your chest nerves started to light up again, that feeling of fear returning. “I couldn’t see you anywhere and I really thought-”

“___,” Rick interrupted you, taking his eyes off the road to make sure you were looking at him. “I’m right here. It’s over, we’re going back home.”

“I know, I just-”

He shook his head. “You aren’t gonna’ lose me, no matter what. Stop thinking about it.”

Though you nodded at his words, you couldn’t stop. It was the only thing you could picture, the only thing you could feel. His hand squeezed you.

“Stop thinking about it. I’m right here.”

Looking up at him, you swallowed and nodded once more. “I know.”

“Good. I’m not goin’ anywhere, and neither are you. Okay?”

“Okay.” You answered, but this time you really meant it. The both of you were alive despite the terrifying run in, and now you were going home. You wiped at your eyes roughly and sucked in a sharp breath, trying to calm down. In the side view mirror, there were no walkers to be seen and there weren’t any ahead either. You’d made it out, even if your nerves were still having a hard time letting that sink in. You leaned back, eyes slipping shut and your hand once again coming to rest over Ricks. Tired, you mumbled, “Let’s not stop anywhere else.”

“Course not. We got some good stuff already. Sun’s going down- no point in goin’ out any further.”

You let out a sigh of a relief and watched the trees pass in a blur. “Sorry for making you use one of your bullets.”

“It worked out didn’t it? Gave us the chance to get back into here.” He paused to check the mirror again. “Not that it matters- I’d of used the whole clip if I had to.”

You watched him for a few seconds. Even though you expected an answer like that, hearing it still made the corners of your lips turn up in a smile. Your thumb rubbed over his knuckles, long since scarred by countless other fights. “Love you.”

From the corner of your eye you saw him look at you before turning back. After a moment of thoughtful silence, you heard him exhale into a smile. “I love you too.”

#txt #this was so weak HKJFDSFSD #rick grimes #the walking dead #twd #scenario #imagine #fanfic #x reader #imaginefictionals

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reesesxxpieces-blog · 7 years

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Chapter Eighteen : Rhys’ birth and John’s stabbing

Spencer A day of shopping had resulted in the purchases of clothes, furniture on order for later that week, essential items, and then some. Nearly everything the registries stated they needed was either on hand in the back of her car or on order to arrive later that week; the hope being that the offer on the house would be accepted that day and perhaps the house would be finalized by the end of the week and none of the bigger stuff would ever have to see the inside of Judas’ place. A little retail therapy had gone a long way for the woman after the atomic bombs dropped the night before at where the house was coming from. The thought would only enter her mind from time to time, but always pushed away quickly as this day was all about getting ready, finally. In the beginning of the day, she was moving quickly. By the middle of the day, it was considerably slower. Each hour reduced the speed at which she could manage, as well as tightened her hold on John’s hand for stability. With lunch missed, she would blame it on that, realizing far later than usual that the meal had been passed over. As the pair left the last place they set out to go, Spence paused at the passenger’s side of the car, her hand to the framework before getting in. She’d spent days having small contractions, all of which the doctor had assured was her body’s natural way of preparing for child birth. Slow deep breaths would see her through in just a couple of minutes, as they had all day long, and she’d be good to go again. Though they were more frequent today, she’d chalk it up to just the sheer amount of energy exerted throughout the massive shopping trip. A minute later, she slipped into the car, waiting for John to finish putting the bags into the back of the car so they could try to find something to eat.

John Neither of them seemed to be particularly hungry. Not noticing the lost meal considering the past few days various stress factors. Though it wasn't unlike either to completely forget the need for food which seemed of little importance. Getting the bags loaded into her car, ever grateful for the vehicle considering this trip would have been interesting with the man's motorcycle as his sole means of transportation. Closing the trunk, he slipped into the drivers side. Starting the car and the AC to combat the inevitable for the comfort of his wife. Glancing over towards her. "You alright?" He asked, having learned once that contractions were a consistent reminder at the end of pregnancy of what was approaching.

Spence As he joined her in the car, she offered a nod of her head as her hand found his thigh. “I’m good,” she promised. The spell had been longer than the others that day, but nothing she couldn’t sustain. Viewing them as an introduction to what child birth may feel like, which was a good thing as she had been weighing her options as to whether or not to allow the administration of an epidural at all. She’d need that high pain tolerance and the reminder that it wouldn’t last long if she were to actually go through this in natural form as she was highly leaning towards. “Hungry, but good,” she added with a wide smile, gently nudging her elbow against his side as if to insist they find something to eat sooner rather than later. “Unless there’s anything else you can think of that we need?” Her question was honest as John had more experience in this department than she did. All she could do was go based on lists upon lists, with no real time experience. It seemed as though the essentials and then some were covered, strange things purchased she never would have thought of, yet she would make no secret of her lack of knowledge on the subject. An only child who had only been in the presence of children on cases aside from the few nights they had been able to snag River in the last six months or so, the coming weeks would be interesting to say the least.

John "Yeah, we need a baby." He remarked honestly, as Rhys seemed to be the only thing missing for it all. Feeling her prod to his side. Knowing he'd have to feed the woman and the local diner seemed to be their normal go to unless she was feeling something different. "Honestly, I think we are good but I'm sure there will be shit once he's finally here." He remarked, thinking it was an inevitable happening that no one escaped. "So what are you feeling?" He asked curious, hand willing the car into reverse.

Spence As he mentioned them needing a baby, she could only smile as she brought her free hand there against her stomach. Four days past due didn’t look so great on the woman and she was feeling every day of it. “Someone is taking their time because their daddy asked them to hold out,” she reminded him as they were still waiting on the call about that offer on the house. “Maybe he just wanted to make sure we had the stuff to take care of him first?” She teased, though she was rather sure this baby was just doing things his own way, just like his mom and dad. As he asked her what she was feeling, she instantly spoke. “Mexican. Spicy Mexican.” Sex, spicy foods, and walking were all part of her mindset at this point as the three things seemed to induce labor and despite John’s asking Rhys to hold out, her discomfort was winning that war. “Set my mouth on fire hot Mexican,” she added, nodding her head slowly as if to convince him. All at once, her hand there at his thigh tightened as she leaned her head back against the headrest sustaining another round of contractions. Each set growing worse than the ones before, yet she couldn’t estimate the timing between them. “Salsa verde,” she added, attempting to keep that conversation going despite the insane tension in her lower abdomen.

John "Yeah, well...I wasn't expecting any kid of mine to actually listen." He pointed out honestly as that was a happening neither of them could predict. Hearing her follow up suggestion, he nodded. "Not difficult to imagine this kid is going to be just as much of a spoiled brat as his mom." He accused, hearing her fall into the choice of Mexican. He had to smirk as she continued her thought. Knowing just the place. "Yeah? What else?" He ventured, seeking to distract her on the topic of food as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Spence His mention of the child being a brat like her would get nothing more than a cut of her eyes, though a look that could kill in that moment. She couldn’t be too mad, considering she knew it was partially true, but she’d still let that look linger as he attempted to continue this distraction. “Tri-colored chips, but you have to eat the black ones,” she continued, never quite able to get over the look of them to be able to enjoy them. “And chile rellenos.” Her grip to his thigh became tighter until all at once she drew her hand back, a long deep breath there at her lips as she turned her head to the side to look in his direction. Her voice altogether calmer as she added to her requests. “Beef enchiladas, no guac, extra salsa con queso.” A sigh passed her lips as she had an unsettled feeling come over her. “This might be a list for another day,” she confessed as already she was feeling another tightness rising in her lower abdomen. There was no need for timing contractions when they were now coming one on top of the other.

John "You are racist." He accused at her refusal to eat the black chips as they all tasted the same in his mind. Willing to bet that there was no difference down to the ingredients. Hearing her continue, he was cutting his eyes to her to the side. About to ask if she was sure before she re-evaluated her priorities. Coming to the front of the parking lot where he stopped. Prepared to make that turn. "Time for the hospital bags?" He asked, not sure whether she'd rather go home and try to relax for a bit or be right off to the races as his hand reached down for hers. Locking his fingers with hers.

Spence “I am not racist! They taste different!” She argued, fixating on that topic even as the tension grew in her lower abdomen. Immense pressure was felt at her very core, but she couldn’t be sure if this was just a false alarm. “Eat a red one and then a black one and you tell me…” stopping mid-sentence as she felt his fingers there between her own, wrapping her fingers around his as her hand squeezed hard in his. Breathing wasn’t cutting it this time as she let her eyes find his. Confusion there within her hues as she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to cry wolf, but there was no denying this child was making his appearance in the near future, with or without a house to go home to locked down. “I think…” she attempted, yet unable to finish that sentence as she leaned her head back again, eyes falling closed, doing all in her power to swallow down the pain, yet falling to the conclusion that it was more than likely time. Nodding her head, she didn’t attempt to speak another word, agreeing it was time for those bags, if there was even time for that.

John Meeting the look in her eyes, he knew. The two, fortunately, had a form of non verbal communication that worked more times than not when the bottom fell out of the verbal kind. This would be no exception. "Fuck the bags, I can get Judas to bring 'em up." The two were not verses enough on this to play it by ear. It was her first pregnancy and he was hardly an expert. Hearing her speak, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Directing her to grip him through the pain as he flipped on the turn signal towards the hospital and applied his foot to the gas. Cutting into the middle lane and through a green light, allowing the car to come to speed.

Spence In the midst of everything happening fast around them, all her mind could go to was that which Judas had heard the night before. An event that might have put things into motion in this instant, and yet all she could do was shake her head. She had successfully dodged seeing him that morning and the idea of coming face to face with a man who had heard that which belonged solely to John would still disturb her. Just as she was about to argue it, a cry came forth from her lips as the pain became sharper and more focused. No longer did it matter who saw or heard what. With his direction there, she focused herself on the grip to his hand, allowing her pain to flow through the limb to inflict only a small percentage against his hand. As he shifted the car between other vehicles, making quick work of rerouting them, she’d agree to anything at this point if it meant they could get through this as quickly as possible. No amount of reading or hospital tours could have provided her ample insight as to what this would feel like in the moment; as though her insides were being ripped apart by a child hellbent on taking her down in his declaration of life. Breathing be damned as there was no room for it, pressing her free hand to the side of her stomach as she normally would do so to play with the child, only this time begging him silently to just stop for a few more minutes.

John "Breathe, Spence. Focusing on it is only going to make it worse. Breath and talk to me." He added, another squeeze of her hand. Knowing she could do better then that. Side eyeing her. His eyes back to the road. He had to stay calm for her, to talk her through it. He knew his position here and to get nervous would further make her nervous. Truth be told, he had every ounce of faith for the woman and her strength. Now he had to complete her task. To get them to the hospital and get her through it as easily as possible.

Spence It was easy enough to say to breathe, it was something else entirely to attempt to do it. But the man was right. Focusing on that which was happening was only amplifying everything, though she didn’t have enough sense about her in the moment to think that way. Needing it to be pointed out, she nodded her head, drawing in a breath though it would bring her no relief in the slightest. Again, no relief. “It isn’t fucking working!” She declared, the contractions just too strong. If breathing wouldn’t work, perhaps talking would, but what was there to talk about exactly? “This is the point that I’m supposed to tell you to call people, and maybe there are people, but I don’t want them, okay? I want me and you and Rhys and that’s it. I don’t want my mother and I don’t want my father and I don’t want your mother and I don’t want anyone in that place that has anything to do with anything. I just want us. Okay? Can you promise me? Judas brings a bag and he leaves. I just want us. Promise me?” Finding something to focus on, though it might not have been the best time to iron out this little request of hers, but it was the first thing in her mind. If she was isolated from her family, then they could find out through the grapevine that this child had been born. She didn’t want them there. Nor did she want anyone else who hadn’t been around or at all supportive. Judas literally stood as the only exception to that, yet that which he had heard the night before had put the woman on edge as to him being anywhere in the vicinity should he hear her scream, knowing damned well he had heard a scream or more the night before. Just beyond that focus, a deep breath was found, forced to happen as she exhausted her breath to speak, not quite realizing yet that this was why those two things would work together. Another deep breath and the pain started to ease a little, evident in her hand finally loosening in his slightly.

John "Okay, okay." He agreed, willing to give her whatever she wanted in that moment. He'd call the presses or remain radio silent. Whatever she wanted, she'd get. A rare opportunity with John get her pregnancy and labor had earned her such. "I tell Judas and he leaves. Just you and me." Demonstrating that he understood. What happened afterwards would be debatable. Not to mention whether River would be brought to meet his brother. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles. Another green light as the hospital began creeping into view.

Spence Hearing John agree to that which she asked for would bring a weak smile to her features. “Please don’t hate me for it,” she asked, the emotional side of the woman slipping through there in the moments beyond the pain. “If you want someone there, they can be there, but just… not where they can see or hear or anything… a waiting room or outside the hospital awaiting your call… but just I don’t want to know, but you get a say too and that’s not fair for me to say no one. It’s not just my choice. I don’t want to be a bitch, I just want it to be us.” Attempting to meet him halfway, knowing there might be people he would want there to meet his son soon after the birth, allowing her own feelings of abandonment to take over moments before yet she would attempt to rectify them now. Feeling that kiss of his lips to her knuckles, she tilted her head to the side as she looked over to him. “Will you stay though? No matter what? And forgive me for anything I say or do and tell me you love me even though people might hear you? I’m going to forget public code words and I’m going to out it if you are there but I want you there and I don’t want you not there, but will it be safe and okay if they hear that? If I can’t keep it inside?”

John "Oh, stop." Seeking to stop that rant about what he wanted before it even started. He shook his head through it all. He didn't surround himself with people. He was a loner through and through. The only person he stood close to was his brother and she had already made her feelings very clear on that. A vacant waiting room would be more hurtful to her then it would be to him yet he knew it would damage his brother beyond repair to not be told. He had opened his doors to them, did everything he could to make them comfortable, offered his time and money and to not be told when Rhys was born would be a blow he wasn't sure the two would ever recover from. Those thoughts retreated for the time being. Hearing her ask if he'd stay and her onslaught of questions. "You got nothing to worry about." He added simply, besides from the obvious, of course.

Spence “John, I have everything to worry about.” Her statement was honest as she was saying so many things and thinking so many other things and in the midst of it all a child was coming into a world that was too dangerous for ‘I love you’. A place where they had to rely on code words and nonverbal cues to one another. A place where family wasn’t family, but family was the enemy. A place where people paid people off to make them disappear. Where heartache was bought and paid for to manipulate those they claimed to love. A child was being brought into a world sicker than most. Not once in her entire pregnancy had the weight of that fallen upon her shoulders until that very moment as the hospital was in view ahead and her husband sat reassuring her she had nothing to worry about. Only then would she realize just how much there truly was to worry about. Falling silent, she didn’t trust herself to speak any further. Instead just keeping her hand there in his as she did her best to rest between the sets of contractions before the next would set in.

John "No, not now you don't. All the other shit don't matter. I love you, I love him. I will stay with you, hold nothing against you and be there every step in the way. You are going to see after he is born how everything will change. All the shit that seemed important, won't be. All your energy and focus will be on him and all the politics and bullshit won't matter. It'll just be the three of us." He stressed, knowing she'd just have to wait and see how this would work. To look back and tell him that he was right. "Only thing you gotta concern yourself with is this baby. The rest will work itself out." He added, car approaching the hospital.

Spence As if he knew she needed to hear those things, spelled out for her in long form, to have those words to hold on to, they came forth from the only person she knew she could trust anymore. “I just want us to be happy, John.” A confession there at her own lips. A promise she had offered him a year ago, yet couldn’t be sure she’d ever fulfilled. An oath to pass a naïve woman’s mouth as she promised something in a world she didn’t rightfully understand. Words that should have held hope, words that she meant beyond any others she’d ever speak, and yet after seeing the hell on the inside, she wasn’t sure anyone within had ever seen happy, nor could she be sure that they ever would, despite her best efforts. There had been that bit about her, right up until the time her father made her a business transaction. Within her, fighting like hell, was a little boy who might change all of that, or it would be one more person for her to try to show happy to, yet fall on her face in the process. Her spirits were up and down, but she was wise enough to keep her mouth shut on the matter, if only for the onset of another set of contractions that would tighten within her. John’s name came forth from her lips as she gave in to the pain as it took her, shaking her head as she leaned forward, hand finding the seatbelt to unfasten it. As if she had been through this before, she just knew, they were out of time.

John Hearing her statement, he remembered once the confidence in her voice as she told him that he would know happy. That they would know happy. Now she understood the life he led. The way the world treated him. How hard happiness would be to achieve. "We will be." He returned, just in time for another set of contractions as he drove the car in front of the emergency room doors. Figuring this to be the easiest and quickest way to get themselves inside of the maternity ward. Shifting into park. "Wait until I get to the door to move." He stated, pulling out of the drivers side.

Spence His assurance was one she wanted to believe in. She had once been so sure she could show him happy and there were moments she thought it was close enough to taste, yet they would be stolen almost as soon as they had shown themselves, never allowing the couple to feel true happiness for too long before something else came along to steal it. Up until now, they only had themselves to worry about. River was safe with his grands. But now, adding a baby into the mix, she wasn’t so sure they could do what needed to be done for him. She knew either of them would die trying, yet what kind of life would the child have without one or both of his parents? As John got out of the car, coming around to her side, she reached for her door handle, opening it just in time for him to be right there. “John… I don’t want to do this… he’s safe inside… but if he comes out… he’s not safe anymore. I don’t want to do this.”

John Hearing her statement, he shook his head. A nurse meeting them outside with a wheel chair, brakes applied as he reached in for her hand to help her out under her own power though he was prepared to shift her legs. Visible by his other hand helping her negotiate her legs. "He will be safe." John promised as it was a little too late for all this. "He's certainly got a lot more goin' for him then I did." He reminded her, in a round about way of reminding her that he could be worse off. "Two parents provide a blanket, a shield. We got this, Spence. You just gotta trust me. Think you can do that?"

Spence It was a little late for her to suddenly be thinking she didn’t want to do this, but it was all happening so fast. The call hadn’t come in for the offer to be accepted. Rhys was already walking into this with no grandparents and no true family unit to be seen outside of herself and John. She was definitely worried about what that would look like and how they would do this and manage to keep the child safe, but as he asked her to trust him, she’d nod her head as her hands met his shoulders, coming forth from the vehicle. “I trust you,” she promised easily as there were no truer words than those in that moment. He was the only person she trusted and there was a part of her that didn’t mind that one bit. As she felt the wheel chair to the back of her thighs, she eased down within it as her hands fell from his shoulders. It would take but a moment for the nurse to turn the chair, instantly drawing for information from Spencer while in route to the double doors of the emergency department. Name, how far along she was, how frequent the contractions were. All the while, the contractions were coming stronger and stronger, her hands gripping to the armrests of the chair, digging her nails against the padding as she answered between contractions.

John Helping her physically was easy but emotionally took some effort. Still, he knew what he had to do for her. A more model spouse would not exist here. Helping her down into the chair before the nurse was taking over. Closing the door of the passenger door. He'd be back in a minute as he hopped into the drivers side, leaving her to her own devices for a moment as he found a parking spot a few feet away. Shooting Judas a text that he'd need those bags as he was walking into the hospital to catch up with her. Keys in hand.

Spence The next few minutes would be a complete whirlwind as Spencer was taken through the emergency department directly to the labor and delivery unit without a stop along the way. While John parked the car, an i.v. was started, her arm band was applied with one matching for John’s wrist as soon as he would return. Once brought into the delivery room, the nurse was helping Spencer to the table where her lower half was exposed and a sheet was draped across. Within minutes she was checked only to find the baby’s head already within the sight line. While medical professionals were calling things out around her, it became clear there would be no long build up here. All of the contractions she had pushed throughout that day had led to this moment as she laid on the table, feet in stirrups, as true fear set into her hues. Her choice for an epidural was never prompted as it was simply too late. “We have to wait for John,” she pleaded, to which the doctor was quickly telling her waiting for anything was no option here but that he would be directed to her room the moment he returned from parking the car. Being told to push on three, she shook her head no, simply refusing to proceed without the man there at her side.

John A nurse was quick to intercept the man, guiding him to the proper room and giving him the run down of how all this was going. Shocked to find that she was this far along and grateful he had changed his mind about stopping for bags figuring they still had several hours to work with. Entering the room already thick with activity, he was finding her side as his hand reached out for hers. Eyes finding the doctor who he'd have to trust with her life and the life of his son. No further waiting needed as he leaned in, pressing his lips to her forehead.

Spence The moment John appeared in the doorway of the room, she could feel his presence there. In a room filled with strangers, all calling out medical terms left and right, he was her rock. As he found her side, leaning over her to press his lips to her forehead, her hand swept to the back of his neck. An off comment from the doctor, asking if she’d agree to push now that he was there, she nodded her head as she lowered her hand from his neck, exchanging that hold to add to their already joined hands. Two nurses lifted her ankles from the stirrups, bringing them to the crease of their shoulders as instructions were given for her to push against them, she tightened her hold on John’s hand, literally grasping his single hand with both of hers. The idea of pushing was foreign, and yet she naturally knew what to do as her body demanded it happen now. A ten count was given from the doctor, to which she was to push throughout. A place where a scream would be expected, the woman focused all energy into that push, without the need to exhaust herself in the scream. As the number ten passed the doctor’s lips, she was told to relax for a couple of minutes and they would try again. Tears passed her eyes as the pain radiated through her, not wanting to take that break, but feeling the need to keep going.

John Feeling her grasp his hands, he wanted to feel her pain. That pain. To know that she was not the only one suffering here. It was arguably the most useless feeling as a man to stand here in attempt to help while knowing he could only do so much. Watching as her ankles met the stirrups as it was go time. Listening to the doctor before the woman put her all into that push and was given a break. He used his free hand to brush her hair from her eyes. Reaching down to brush away her tears, sure there would be more as the pressure had to be immense but he'd be sure to wipe away each one. "Keep breathing." He reminded her softly, keeping his eyes on hers as he hovered just a few inches above her face. Giving her that space yet the ability to lean into him.

Spence Blocking out all of the sounds in the room aside from John right there before her, it gave her the ability to pretend it was just them, as she had wanted. All she’d ever wanted was just the two of them, without any fuss or outside involvement. The two did best when they just did things their own way and though in this circumstance, they needed the medical professionals gathered at her feet, she needed him. While he remained close, the sound of another telling her it was time to go again, that one more strong push should do it, she released his hand as she grasped for his neck again, pulling the man closer as she found comfort in that place there against the curve of his neck. A place she had buried herself a million times before would now be used as she heard the ten count begin again. Her nails there to his neck unintentionally as she bore down, forcing the child’s shoulders through as the feeling of complete relief followed as all tension was suddenly gone. Her hand remained there to his neck as she leaned back against the pillow of the bed, finally able to take full deep breaths as the child was held in the gloved hands of the doctor, slightly lifted upwards as a nurse suctioned his mouth and nose. Scissors were offered in John’s direction by the nurse, offering him the honors of severing the tie between mother and child as those first screams echoed through the delivery room from the lungs of a healthy baby James. Tears filled Spencer’s eyes as she eased her hand down from John’s neck, allowing him the freedom to do what was his right as well as receive the child for the first time the moment he was wrapped in a blanket.

John His palm found the hospital bed as she gripped at him, allowing the full body grip as her nails found his skin. Encouraging her. Feeling it intensify before falling, feeling her lean back as the sound of his cries filled his ears. Just as he had hoped. Loud, abrasive, strong. He smiled softly, pressing his lips to her forehead. "You did it." He reminded her, the mere sounds of his cry forcing moisture to his eyes. Reaching up where he wiped off her tears before his own. A moment of time with her before he would be wrapped up in the baby. Pulling back only slightly as his eyes found the baby for that first time. The most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Bright eyed and aware. Healthy. Already his hopes had been answered as his chord was clamped off and he was offered the scissors. With the doctors instruction, he made the cut and severance into the tissue. A nurse following behind a moment later where he was wrapped in his own blue blanket and offered to him. The man smiled softly as he glanced down into the contents of that blanket, offered him as he formed his arms to receive him. Aiding the nurse in the smooth transition as he kept his eyes down towards the aware little man. Tears only welling further, unable to help himself at his most vulnerable as he did not steal him too long by himself. Pressing a gentle kiss to his head before he was stepping back towards Spence.

Spence In those moments directly after, Spencer watched as John took the baby into his arms, seeing emotion there on his face as she felt the same falling from her own eyes. It was perhaps the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen to see a child taken from her own body and placed into the arms of the man she loved. The two most important people in the world right there at her side, transitioning them from a couple to a family. Within seconds she felt herself start to tremble, the shock of the birth taking a moment to set in on her. Lifting one hand to John’s side, not wanting to hold the baby herself for fear she would drop him, yet joining in that moment with him as they met their son for the first time. “We did it,” she finally corrected through that raspy tone of hers, confirming this was not a one person job in the slightest. She couldn’t have done it without him, of that she was sure. A nurse stood by, waiting to bring the child to have his vitals officially checked with the promise of returning him within minutes, as Spence’s needs were handled beneath that sheet. “He’s so little…” she whispered honestly as she wasn’t quite sure she’d ever seen a baby so tiny or perhaps it was just that he appeared as such against his father’s broad chest. Lifting her hand from John’s side to find a tiny foot there beneath the blanket. A foot that she had played with for the last several weeks, she pressed her palm against the bottom of his foot, just as she had a million times before. The continued echo of the baby’s cries continued throughout the room, by far the best sound she’d ever heard in her life. Nothing like that which she had expected, far higher pitched than any child she’d ever heard crying in a store or office. That call to life as he let his arrival be known.

John “I don’t know how much I did…” he confessed, watching the nurse let them have their moment as he remained holding the baby instead of handing him off to her. Understanding her hesitation. Hearing her mention how little he was, he had to smirk softly. He was a tiny little guy as they were all supposed to though he’d be curious to see what he came out to. Watching her seek out his foot as he continued at it. A bit startled and John could understand that. “His war cry…” he noted, free hand hooking his finger just at the blanket underneath of his chin. Palm gently resting over his chest as his fingertip grazed the baby’s cheek. The soft skin as he attempted to comfort him the best way he knew how. Knowing that his time was drawing thin before he’d have to separate from him for what would seem like an eternity.

Spence “I love it,” she whispered in regards to that cry. The cry that signified everything was okay and their first attempt at protecting him had been a success. Feeling the push of the baby’s foot to her palm brought a tired laugh from her lips as it resembled the game the two had played before as she watched John there attempting to comfort the little one. John’s entire hand seeming to span the contents of that blanket as the nurse came closer, her own hand slipping beneath the baby’s bottom to signify they needed to take him for stats and to clean him up now. “He’ll be back,” she offered to John, expecting him to be hesitant to let the child out of his sight. “Ya know, why don’t you go with him? I’m alright,” she promised, urging John to stay with Rhys or as close as he could, knowing neither of them would be incredibly comfortable without the child now that they had been with him. “I’ll feel better knowing he has you,” she added, her hand slipping there against John’s for a firm squeeze in an attempt to convince him she was sure.

John A tempting offer yet as the nurse slipped off, he’d have to be parted with him for the moment. Allowing her to take him yet, she was on the clock as he found her side. “I’m sure they’ll take good care of him.” he commented honestly, pressing his lips back to her forehead as his fingers brushed another wayward piece of hair behind her ear. Lips finding her temple a moment later as he took her in. Finding a new love and appreciation for the woman who was now both his wife and the mother of his no longer “unborn” child. Pulling back only when he was lifting his fingers at the collar of his shirt, dragging it over his face to wipe the fallen tears from his face.

Spence As he opted to stay with her over going with Rhys, she couldn’t even be mad. Feeling him come over her once more as he had in the heat of the moment not too long before, that kiss to her forehead now meaning so much more than it ever had before. As he pulled back, lifting his shirt to dry his eyes, she could only look up towards him with a tired smile. It was a rare occurrence to see such expelled from his eyes, and yet she couldn’t think of a more appropriate time for such a thing to appear. A small hand to the hem of his shirt as she tugged at the fabric, willing him to come down to her once more. The room began to empty out, leaving just the two of them within with the promise of their son being returned to them shortly, she offered a nod of thanks to the doctor and nurses as they slipped out of the room. “I didn’t say I hated you or anything, did I?” She teased with a questioning tone to make sure, the last half hour a complete blur in her mind, although she was fairly certain that kind of thing only happened on bad t.v. shows.

John Leaning forward and towards her, he heard her question and shook his head. “Not yet.” he remarked honestly, as there was still the task of dealing with a newborn and her healing process ahead of them which would be no easy task. He’d allow a bit more time onto the clock and her window to open. Taking in a breath as the moment settled with them. Everything had changed now. He couldn’t help but to think that going forward, nothing would be the same. Just that quickly, the window had slammed shut. None of the other shit mattered but the three of them. “How’s your head feeling?'

Spence His remark of not yet would bring a smirk to her lips, though she couldn’t imagine it got any worse than that which her body had just undergone. With Rhys only gone for mere minutes, she was already ready for him to be brought back to them, proof to the fact that everything had in fact changed drastically. “Like the worst headache I’ve ever had in my life,” she remarked honestly, though a suitable amount of pain meds would likely be offered in the near future to take care of just that, as well as any other number of pains she wouldn’t mention in that moment. “How’s your hand feeling?” she asked, only able to imagine how much she had inflicted there as well as the back of his neck, transferring her pain through him in the heated moments that led to the child’s arrival.

John Quite meaning to ask about her mental state, he’d let her have that. Was she feeling better, was it still a doomsday scenario? Did she understand what he meant by it all changing? It was a conversation for another day. “Tired?” he asked, knowing that had to be mixed in there somewhere and knowing she’d soon be rolled out of the delivery room once the doctors were done with her and she’d be able to get some medicated rest. Brushing the back of his fingers over his hairline, hearing her ask about his hand. A shake of his head. Not comparable. “I’m fine.”

Spence As he asked if she was tired, it was a given. Answered with the nod of her head, she confirmed the fact for him beyond the shadow of a doubt. Perhaps the most exhausted she’d ever been in her life, but she’d play it down if only for his benefit. “A little, but I’m alright.” Hearing him confirm his hand was alright, she trusted it to be truth as the man was about the strongest individual she’d ever met in her entire life. Something to aspire to. Something she had kept in mind during those pushes as she refused to scream out in pain. She’d be stronger, as she could only imagine he would be. Never telling him just what an inspiration he was to her in those moments as he endured something of his own there, watching her in pain, only able to begin to imagine what that must’ve been like for him. “Never got my salsa verde, though,” she teased, releasing the hem of his shirt where she had tugged a moment before, covering her mouth as a yawn passed her lips.

John "You will...your first big meal back." He seemed to promise, giving her something to look forward to. Another kiss to her forehead before the nurse was returning with the boy intact. Cleaned up and tightly swaddled. Finally calmed and looking just as tired as his mother as the nurse handed him off. "21 inches, 8 pounds." She concluded, causing John to look down. Having not expected that as he glanced back over towards Spence. "So he's little yet not all at once." He confirmed, looking down into those light eyes. No way of knowing whether they'd stay or go yet he was quite relieved to find his hair was much darker than his. Another thing that may change yet John had been transparent about the fact that he hoped Rhys would take more after his mother.

Spence Hearing that promise, he’d receive a tired smile from his wife as she laid there against the bed just as their son was brought back in. As the stats were quoted, she was quite surprised as he didn’t look 8 pounds. Just the sound of it made her wonder how he had passed through her, although it did explain why she couldn’t sleep the last few weeks as the boy was truly running out of room within his petite mother. The nurse explained that within the next few minutes they would have her transferred into a room where the family could room in together over the next twenty-four hours, at which point as long as everything was good with mother and child, both could be discharged as soon as the twenty-four hour mark was passed. It sounded a little too good to be true until it settled in on her that they hadn’t heard about the offer on the house yet, and the plan had always been to bring him to his permanent home. Needing to believe that would work itself out, she released a deep breath, thanking the nurse as she left the three of them to their own devices until her room was ready. “If you promise you won’t let me drop him…” she prompted, her way of letting him know she wanted to hold the baby for the first time, even if she didn’t trust herself to do so quite yet.

John "I won't let you drop him." He promised in return but knew she would not. Yet, knowing it was important for him to know his mother. Her scent, her warmth. To bond with her as nature intended. Glancing down to find that his eyes were beginning to close. Exhausted from the journey as his eyes were back to hers. Reading her comfort level and what all she was prepared for.

Spence Hearing that promise from John’s lips, she knew she could trust him to make sure that didn’t happen. The last thing she wanted was for that slight tremble she was experiencing to harm their baby in any way, but the desire to hold the child, to view his tiny face up close, was just too much to ignore any longer. Her hand slipped to the side of the bed, pressing the button that would allow the upper part of the bed to sit upwards where she could provide more stability to be able to hold him. Once the incline was at a place she was comfortable with, she brought her hands just beneath where John held him, one where his head could rest, the other to support his bottom as she brought the bundle into her chest, looking down on the sweetest face for the first time. Her smile was instantaneous as she took in that mixture of her own features and John’s. “Hi, Rhys,” she whispered, bringing her lips to the little one’s forehead, pressing a soft kiss there that she would hold for a moment, referring to him by his given name for the first time face to face. As she lifted from that kiss, her eyes were instantly to John’s, never before a fuller smile on her face as this moment right here made it all worth it. “We made this,” she marveled as if she couldn’t fathom just how it had all happened, truly in awe of the little one there in her arms.

John Handing off the baby as his hands supported her arms, reaching for a spare pillow to the side of the bed. Guiding one gently under that arm of hers that supported his head. Assuring he was supported and she was comfortable. Hearing her speak his name for the first time. Placing a face to the name. "We did." He agreed as he leaned his shoulder to the side of her bed. "Worth the 9 months, huh?"

Spence “Absolutely worth the nine months,” she confessed easily as in that moment, she’d take back every complaint over a sleepless night or her clothes not fitting or the emotional rollercoaster she’d put them both through. Instantly, it was all more than worth it. As she looked down at him, she could silently promise him to never hurt him in any way, and to never put her own pride over his happiness. There in those moments of holding him, seeing their flesh and blood up close for the first time, it would settle fully on her the sins of her own father. As she looked down into her son’s eyes, the tears welled up in her own. Her tears could easily be mistaken for joy by any who would see them, and perhaps some were for that fact, yet the thoughts wouldn’t leave her of how her father could attempt to ruin this, to take away something his own daughter loved. With the support of that pillow beneath her arm, she brought her other to John’s. Linking her fingers through his as she gripped his hand tightly. Finally speaking words she had imagined herself to say in the process or even immediately after. Instead, they were reserved for a time the three of them shared the room for the first time completely alone. “I love you.” The statement offered as she leaned her head against the man, not taking for granted this first true moment as a family until she’d realize the family was not complete. “You want to call for River? He should be here,” she whispered, eyes glancing to John’s, knowing it would take a lot for John to make that call that ordinarily she would make, only hoping River’s grandmother would be receptive to this idea as the only way this was complete was with John and both of his sons there together.

John Watching as the new mother linked into the child she had carried for these nine months was an experience he could only marvel at. Nat wasn't like this. Not even a little bit. The bond had not been made. Thus, it was easily severed. As she spoke, it took him a moment to even register the words. "I love you to. Two." He emphasized, glancing down towards Rhys as she mentioned River. He met her eyes. A nod. A bit nervous about having to speak to them in the first place but he was ready. "When you get settled in a recovery room, I'll go outside and make the call."

Spence With a nod of her head, she agreed to his plan of calling for River once they were set up in their room for the night. It was probably the better idea considering then he would have a room number to offer. Truth be told, she had already spoken with River’s grandmother weeks ago about this, just in passing, but given as a heads up that they would like River to be there to meet his brother. The woman hadn’t agreed or declined, but it was enough that it wouldn’t be asked in a cold state. “When Judas comes with the bags, he can come in,” she offered, feeling a lot more comfortable with the idea of it now that the baby was there, knowing she couldn’t offer Rhys her own family, nor could she offer him some of John’s, but he should at least have what he could have and for now, that was Judas. Though she wasn’t keen on that which Judas had heard the night before, a single event couldn’t undo all that Judas had done for them. In her state of discomfort an hour before, she couldn’t see that, but now, she could. “And if he happened to bring some Mexican food with him…” she offered, her brows lifting as she slowly nodded her head, flashing a smile in John’s direction before her eyes drifted back to the little one in her arms, not able to not look at the boy for very long.

John Hearing her opinion change, becoming a tad bit more logical, he was relieved. He didn’t want to hurt his brother. To fracture that relationship. Somedays, they were all that one another had. He wouldn’t test his luck for the meantime but he knew Jade would be interested in meeting the little guy as well. Hearing her mention Mexican food, he smirked softly. “I’ll see what I can do.” he added, knowing one way or another, she’d get it. Be it from Judas’ hand or his own. Looking down at Rhys with her, a small smile as his free hand gently rested over the top of his capped head. “I don’t know, mommy…sure is looking a lot more like you than he does like me.” he added, a tone of gratitude for that fact.

Spence A thankful smile was flashed in John’s direction as he agreed to attempt getting her some Mexican food. Never able to keep her eyes from Rhys for too long there, watching as John’s hand came over the infant’s head. “You think so?” She asked, studying the child’s features as she couldn’t quite see it. “He has your eyes, that’s for sure,” she commented, both in shape and color. It was clearly her own nose, but as for the rest she couldn’t place any of it as being hers or his. “I think he’s perfect,” she whispered, nodding her head towards Rhys. “I do. Absolutely perfect,” she added, her voice altering as many did when speaking to a baby. It took a moment there for it to settle in that John had just called her ‘mommy’. A word she had wondered what it would feel like to be called, and yet she hadn’t much imagined it coming from John’s voice. When it did, it would take her a minute to process it before she’d shift her eyes up to him. “You have given me the greatest gift of my life. Thank you.” The sincerity there in her words was undeniable as she was truly grateful for that which he had given her, the opportunity to be a mother, to have a child, to start a family. All of which was never in the cards for a pair who had met exactly one year before, trashed in a hotel room. Their marriage was never meant to be what it was, and yet it was all at the same time, and for that she was thankful. “Rhys, close your eyes,” she instructed, though the child’s eyes were and had been, tugging against that hand of John’s as she pulled against him to steal his lips with her own.

John Hearing her thank him, he had to shake his head at her. “You did this.” he reminded her, refusing to take credit for it unless it was the initial start that was literally his extent of it. “I just helped.” he confessed. Though he supposed he did have his eyes, at least the shape. The color was yet to be seen in truth. Her mention of his perfection was met with a hum in agreement. She had done that though. All of that. He expected nothing less. Watching the two and her bidding the baby to close his eyes, he had to laugh softly. “He’ll get used to it.” he warned, leaning in where he pressed his lips softly back to hers, free hand reaching up for her cheek before he was pressing his lips to the tip of her nose. A few nurses entering a moment later to instruct them that her room was ready.

Spence Finding his lips there at her own for an all too brief exchange, a smile stole her lips as his kiss found her nose, only to be interrupted by nurses entering the room to help the family shift to the room they would call their own for the next twenty-four hours or so. “Caught in the act,” she whispered, as if they had been fully engaged in one another, not like it wasn’t anything these nurses probably witnessed multiple times a day as the birth of a baby brought out the emotions in most couples, uniting them to express it in soft kisses and tears. The baby’s nurse came to her side, slipping a band around his ankle that would be activated on the recovery floor, explaining that she and John would wear the same bands, allowing them to hold him without any alarms sounding. Should the baby be in another new parent’s arms, the alarms would sound. Furthermore, if the baby was to be removed from that floor, the doors would auto lock and the hospital would go on lock down until the infant was located, thus preventing anyone from taking him. Spencer nodded her head in understanding, pleased there were precautions in place as they were given the option to have Rhys room in with them or be taken to the nursery. Her eyes drifted to John, quickly checking with him to see if he agreed that Rhys should be with them every available minute, not fully trusting the idea of him being in a room with other newborns, thus opening the window for something to go wrong there. Not answering until she sought out his opinion, though her own was fairly evident that she didn’t want to be separated from the child.

John “No, he’ll stay with us.” already interjecting at the suggestion, even if Spence was sleeping. Knowing they’d have the rolling bassinets present as he still had to run out to make that call eventually and do so while she was still awake. Eyes back to Spence, even if he wasn’t who he was. Without even a legal last name yet but sought after on either sides, he would decide this. Yet, his newborn son wasn’t going anywhere. He’d show her without meaning to why losing River was so painful as he had been equally attached to the little bundle when he had him ripped away from him.

Spence Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, a nod was instantly there at her head as she fully agreed. She didn’t want the boy away from them for any extended amount of time. The matching band to Rhys’ was added to the other bands on Spencer’s arm, then to John’s as well, attaching them to Rhys for easy identification. A moment later, the nurse slipped her arms beneath Spencer’s, taking Rhys and placing him in the rolling bassinet, instructing that any time they were to be walking around, the child should be placed within for safety. Spence nodded as her own nurse was there to help her sit up, a wheel chair already there to her side. Even with the nurse’s help, her hand was there to John’s for that stability, trusting him as she always did, knowing he’d sooner go down first than to let her hit the ground. Once transferred into the chair, she couldn’t help but look down, finding the swell of her stomach nearly depleted, almost amazed at how it had done so. “Suppose it was really all baby,” she teased, bringing her hand there against where the child once was, already realizing it would be a hard habit to break as she had frequently held the baby both in body and hand.

John As Rhys was placed in the bassinet, John was already preparing to help Spence. Getting her into that chair his first and only objective as she noted what had happened with her body. “Told you.” he reminded her, as he had told her a million times over that she was all baby and would take advantage of it in this moment. “But /somebody/ wouldn’t listen…” pausing, lifting the brakes on both sides of the chair. All too familiar with these considering his grandfather was confined to one more days than not. Hands at the back of the wheel chair and prepared for further instruction as the nurse explained where they would be going.

Spence “Yeah, yeah,” she argued, hearing his reminder of that which he had tried to tell her. She couldn’t hear him before, mostly because she saw what she was sure he was blinded to, only to find out that it was her own blindness to a situation as she couldn’t see beyond the immediate on this one. “You were right,” she offered, cutting her eyes up over her shoulder towards him, flashing him a quick grin. As the directions were offered, the pole at Spencer’s side was slipped into her hand to continue her i.v. fluids as they made their way out of the room. Rhys’ nurse with him there in front of them, where the new parents could keep their watchful eyes on the child at all times as her own nurse was there to her own side, should John need relief with that chair, giving the couple information they would need in the next room. How to call for a nurse for her needs or the baby’s needs, what to expect with the frequent interruptions with nurses checking mostly on the child, and instructing it to be best for Spence to get up and walk around the room with assistance often as it would help her recover faster. Only hoping John was keeping up with all of the information there as she was finding her mind drifting to the baby in that bassinet far more often than actually listening to the nurse’s instructions.

John Listening, attempting to catalogue it all though they both knew that she was better at this sort of thing then he was. Recording it all the best he knew how with prior experience as a foundation, focusing on wielding the chair around the winding maze of halls and doors that would never make any sense to him. Though he had spent quite a bit of time in a hospital once. This one to be specific, a few floors up. Now he especially hated this place. Eyes wandering briefly towards the baby who had not gotten any peace and quiet since being born yet he could only hope that he wouldn’t come to expect it. This world was no place for peace and quiet.

Spence Entering the recovery ward, through large doors that were surely what was mentioned previously with that band on Rhys’ arm, she heard the nurse instruct that he could not be taken past that point, though Spencer and John could feel free to move about the floors as they wished, just not with the little one in tow. A moment later, they were turning into their own room where they would call home for the next day or so. The layout was far more spacious, allowing for visitors they wouldn’t be having. The brakes were applied to the bassinet there near the bed in the room as the nurse went to the sofa on the side of the room, indicating to John how to transform it into a bed, should he decide to stay the night with his wife and son. Beyond this, the family was left to their own devices once again after Spencer was moved to the new bed, refusing to lay down, but wanting to sit up for a little longer first. Sleep meant not seeing Rhys and that was simply not acceptable to the woman in the immediate future, seeming to lose sight of the fact that she’d get to see him for years upon years to come. It didn’t matter to her in the slightest. Told that as soon as their bags arrived, she could feel free to change into her own clothes and out of the gown she had been wearing the last hour or so, she was already thankful. As the door closed behind the nurses, she glanced over into that bassinet, not wanting to let the child sleep and yet knowing it was probably the right thing to do all at the same time. Bringing her eyes back to John’s, hand reaching towards him with a smile he would easily recognize. “So… about that kiss…” she whispered, seeing as it had been interrupted previously, prompting him to try that again.

John As the door was closed behind them and they were left to their own devices, he was left looking at Spence. A shake of his head to follow. “You ever get to feeling like they’ve done that a few times?” he asked honestly, as it was certainly starting to feel that way to him as he watched her reach for his hand. Allowing it as he moved forward and sat down on the bed at her side. Hearing her whisper as his head turned. “All in good time…you going to take a nap now or later?” he asked, not asking whether she was going to but when she was going to.

Spence “Rejected,” she pouted as he sat on the edge of the bed, refusing her kiss and instead prompting her to nap. She must’ve looked tired to bring out such a question, but she’d nod her head in response just the same. “I will eventually,” she promised, knowing it was inevitable at this point, yet not wanting to go to sleep as it would mean she couldn’t see Rhys. “After you call for River, maybe? But you can’t let him or Judas come in here while I’m asleep. Don’t want them seeing drool running down my face or something,” she teased, though it was mostly true. She didn’t expect to look like herself at this moment, but she’d at least attempt to minimize just how bad she did look at the same time. “Have people running around saying John’s wife drools in her sleep… no.” Leaning back as she gave up on that kiss entirely, situating the blanket over herself as her hand found his thigh, eyes shifting there to that plastic bassinet. “Denying my kiss though… that’s a punishable offense,” she whispered, though she was in no form ready to take on the man, nor did she look like any amount of a threat at all.

John “I didn’t deny anything.” he reminded her simply as she gave him her own terms. Shaking his head at the suggestion of no one being able to be around while she napped or was waking up. Thinking she cared entirely too much and hopefully exhaustion would take root and make her no longer care. Watching her pull the blanket over herself, reaching over to see it over her body entirely. Leaning in where he stole the words from her mouth, pressing his lips back to hers.

Spence Before she could argue that he had denied her that kiss, she felt it there on her lips, silencing the woman in perhaps the best way possible. Bringing her hand there to the side of his face, a gentle touch as she had nothing more within her, remaining there at his lips for a long moment before she would allow her hand to fall, her fingertips grazing his cheek until they disappeared entirely. Sealing that kiss at his lips entirely more satisfied than she had been when their previous exchange was interrupted. “Just an hour,” she requested, knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep in much longer intervals than that in this bed as it simply wasn’t theirs, nor would they be uninterrupted for long periods of time between her nurse and Rhys’ nurse that would be steadily coming through to check on the both of them. “Just one…” she paused, a yawn passing her lips before she could continue, “hour.” Her hand there at his thigh, eyes shifting to his as she let another pass her lips. “I’ll stay awake until you get back from calling River’s grandmother though… then the hour can start,” she managed, sleepy eyes saying something entirely different, but knowing she’d be able to manage at least for that short period of time.

John Hearing her request at the conclusion of the kiss, he nodded. Glad she was seeing reason as the baby would be fine. Watching her yawn causing him to smirk. “Just one day.” he concluded before she could get to hour, as the woman deserved the rest and would most likely end out for several hours. He nodded, knowing he needed to make that call. Feeling his phone in his pocket as he also knew Judas was on his way. “Okay…” he stated as he stood to his feet, getting ready to make that move outside as he turned to face her. “Think you can make it that long?” he teasingly asked, though with the baby sleeping and the constant movements of the nurses in and out, he wasn’t too worried whether she could or not. “Because I don’t think you will…”

Spence Hearing him challenge her on her ability to stay awake, he was right in doing so as she was that tired, but now with the gauntlet thrown, she’d strive to do it even harder than perhaps she would have previously. “Bet your ass I will,” she teased, eyeing him as he made his way for that door. “I’ll be awake, throwing a party in here while you’re gone. Me and the Rhyster, getting security called on us for all the noise.” Flashing him a tired smile as she lifted her hand, shooing him out the door as she reached over, her hand easing there at the infant’s side, already feeling the weight of her eyes contradicting nearly every word she spoke. “Go on, already. Someone thinks he’s an only child here and we need to make sure he knows otherwise as soon as possible,” she teased, loving the idea of Rhys never feeling like an only child as she herself could speak to the horrors such a thing encompassed and festered in a child’s mind. Directing her eyes back to Rhys, speaking directly to him though her tone would change from that which she used with John. “Yeah, you want to meet your big brother, don’t you? You can’t do that until daddy makes that phone call though, right?” Cutting her eyes back to John, smirking all the while.

John “Re.lax.” he emphasized, as he was getting there. Still lingering in the room to press his lips to her temple. “You just want to go to sleep without losing this bet of yours.” he accused, shaking his head as Rhys was hardly an only child. He’d know his brother. Hoping that he’d be given a chance to make it all right. To prove that maybe he could be changed or show that maybe he had never been so bad at all. Her speaking for Rhys made him smile though, the idea of being called ‘daddy’ without hesitation was an appealing thought all itself just as it was her being called mommy. “Okay.” he answered, not wanting to leave that room but knowing he had to as he leaned in and stole a kiss from the baby.

Spence A tired laugh was there at her lips as he told her to relax, shaking her head no as she didn’t much know the meaning of the word and he knew it. “I just want you to hurry up so you don’t miss him saying my name or anything,” she teased as though the child was just that brilliant to be able to speak an hour after birth, or the mention of him saying mama before dada, as everyone knew dada was phonetically easier to accomplish. As he agreed to leave, though she sensed some reluctance there, she watched as his lips passed their son’s forehead. The one and only way his lips could touch another without inciting pure rage from his possessive wife. “You are pretty lucky, Rhys,” she whispered, keeping her voice low as John exited the room. “You happen to have the best daddy in the world that is going to love and protect you almost as much as your mom will.” Teasing still, as evident in her tone, knowing there was a good chance John could still hear her, saving her actual sentiments for after that door would close and she would get serious with the child instead of teasing at John through her conversation.

John Hearing her as he finally left the door, walking down the hallway. Not wanting to be away from that room for even a moment. Maybe losing River had made him worse. He wasn’t sure. Yet, the pangs of separation made his chest heavy. Thinking it quite pathetic but the attachment was immediate. Making his way out of the complex wings of hospitals and button operated doors, he was finally emerging from the other side and into the warm summer air where he walked from the front doors deeper into the parking lot. Slipping his phone from his pocket where he read a text from Judas alerting him that he was close by with the bags in tow. Using the opportunity to find the number belonging to River’s grandmother, pressing the call button and holding it to his ear. Attempting to get his ‘nice voice’ on though he wasn’t sure he had one.

Spence Once the door to the room closed, Spence was sitting up in that bed again, only having laid down for the moment for John’s benefit as truly she wanted to be closer to their child. Eyeing him as he laid asleep in that bassinet, fingertips burning to get her hands on him, but she’d refrain aside from the single hand that laid against his chest, feeling it rise and fall beneath her hand. In complete awe of the baby as he was everything she never knew she wanted, though he terrified her all at the same time. “See, we’re alright,” she whispered, nodding her head as though there was any chance they wouldn’t be alright. “You know you really are the luckiest kid in the world. Your mom and dad are going to make mistakes, but we’re going to do our best to do right by you always. You just gotta do one thing for me, alright? Try not to pee on me?” A smile was there at her lips as she had heard the horror stories, yet she knew even if he did she wouldn’t hold it against him. A soft noise there from the baby’s bed had her heart melting instantly as she truly heard her first baby noise. The innocence wrapped in a blue blanket in a world that seemed to be so perfect around him, she couldn’t help but feel the need to apologize to him that it wouldn’t always be so. Instead, she kept those thoughts to herself as her fingertip brushed the tiniest of cheeks, resolving to let him sleep, even if her desire to hold him only grew greater by the moment.

John Ending the call with River’s grandmother who seemed happy enough to bring the slightly older baby to the hospital, realizing he’d have to decide who he was talking about when he said “the baby” as both of them were babies and more than likely always would be. He hung up. Amazed that they had gotten to this point. Granted, it was still formal. Hardly warm. But she was working with him. The same woman whose husband had wanted him dead, whose every encounter with him was an accusation and a curse. He didn’t seem to have good track records with the parents of his baby mama’s, did he? He shook his head. Hearing his brother’s muscle car roaring in the distance as he looked down at the phone. A moment of reflection. Rhys was in the hospital, his wife was with him. He was now a married father of two. The house had been closed on, not telling Spence if only to surprise her with the truth of the matter and that Rhys would be coming home to a finished home. Feeling his eyes mist again, he was quick to lift up his shirt to keep those tears from seeing the daylight. As he cleared his vision, he heard a voice behind him. His name. “Johnny.” The unfamiliar yet familiar tone, turning around. He watched as the man pulled himself from his car. Taken aback. His brows furrowed. How did he know? Spence’s father was approaching him. Closing the car door, a smile upon his lips. “Congratulations.” the man bid. Johnny was left awe struck. The last time he had saw the man, he was sliding an envelope of money towards him. Johnny had betrayed him. Yet, the man walked towards him with arms spread. Approaching the biker where his arms eclipsed his shoulders and he held him in tight. “I’m a grandfather.” the man acknowledged, pulling back slightly with only one hand remaining at John’s shoulders. Still left dumbstruck. How would he explain this? He had said nothing. The man must have had people on the inside. Yet, the man remained smiling and just as Johnny went to speak, he drew in a breath. A breath that was interrupted with a violent and sharp pain to the front of his ribcage as the sharp and thick blade the other man wielded drove into him. Sharply pushing within him, twisting for damage before he’d withdraw and force it again. The same smile upon his face as John drew back violently. The other man’s hand on his shoulder assured he got another hit. Driving the knife back into his chest only inches from the first cut against his ribcage. The pain was blinding. Yet, he reached. Grasping him by the neck in attempt to defend himself. Hand gripping, Knowing he did not have long yet nothing was on his mind but that searing pain. Hearing the gurgling as he drained the oxygen from the other man’s throat only for him to take the last ounce of energy he had and dig his blade into Johnny’s side again sharp causing him to drop as it all slipped away.

Spence Finally resolving herself to at least lay back, she had to let the baby rest as he had been through far more than she had that day. His entire environment having shifted there, coming into this world against his own will, it was only right to let him sleep. As she laid staring through the side of the plastic bassinet, her eyes never fully closing, though they would ease in that direction every few moments. Unable to fully commit to the act of sleep, yet knowing her ability to stay awake was quickly fading. Wanting nothing more than to win in that little dare John offered her, yet she was quickly failing to do so. As a nurse came into the room, it was just enough to stir her as they did a quick check to Rhys and then to Spencer, encouraging her to get up for a few minutes before falling asleep as walking would help her to heal faster. Spence reluctantly agreed, though she’d far rather be supported in such by John, but she agreed just the same. Bringing her feet to the edge of the bed, finding the floor in socked feet, she rose with her hands there on the forearms of the nurse. Hearing her tell her just to take a slow step forward as she felt ready to, Spencer did as she was told, though her eyes were constantly shifting towards Rhys as he was being tended to by his nurse. A few feet completed around the room and she was returned to her bed, sitting there to the edge as she acknowledged that she felt fine, just sore. A dose of pain meds were offered, to which she would refuse, not wanting to be under the influence of anything until John returned, knowing she needed to be fully alert for Rhys.

John By the time that Judas was pulling into the parking lot, nearly hitting Johnny with the car in the process. He was launching on the brakes. Spotting his brother laid out in a pool of his own blood. The knife dropped. A calling card to the man's identity as he seemed to want this crime. As Judas was out of the drivers side, the older man was already in his. Fearing less of being caught then being beaten to death yet he'd find nothing from Judas in that moment except scrambling towards Johnny's side. "John. John. Hey. Open your eyes." Gripping the dead weight by his shoulders to pull him onto his knees, he'd get no response. Already unconscious. Shirt ripped and distinctively drenched with the blood as a bypasser to it all had called into the E.R. Several nurses running out with a stretcher to follow. Judas quickly removing his shirt to press to the side of his ribcage yet not daring to inspect the damage. Not sure he'd bare to see it as John's breathing slowed.

Spence Within the room, Spencer was quickly losing her ability to win the battle with sleep, her own body failing her as she wanted to wait for John to return before allowing her eyes to close. The nurse assured her that even if she were to sleep, she would wake easily to the cries of her child and if she were to need help it was right down the hall. Spencer nodded her agreement as the nurse instructed her the best way to make it through the first weeks was to sleep when Rhys did. Hearing Rhys’ name on another’s lips sounded foreign, but she liked it just the same. The boy had an identity, a name stronger than he would know for some time to come. Laying back, she gave in as she heard the door close, one hand on the infant’s chest as she brought her other hand beneath her own face, committing to doze off, but not permitting herself into full sleep either. She’d let John hassle her when he returned over her inability to stay awake, though she’d argue it when she would wake with every opening of that door. In just a few minutes, the phone beside her bed would ring. Jolting her from that bit of sleep she had stolen, she reached over, pulling the phone to her ear. “John?” she answered, only assuming it would be him since no one else should have been calling. Hearing the voice on the other end of the line, she quickly hung up the phone without another word. Tears filled her eyes as she felt unable to speak to the caller, still unsure of what involvement they might have had in that which had earned them the down payment for the house, even if she didn’t yet know if the offer had been accepted. The ringing began again, to which she’d lift the receiver only to hang it up again before she was calling the nurse’s desk to request certain calls not be allowed back. Only permitting calls from John, River’s grandmother, and Judas, declining any others and asking that they be asked to leave a message instead.

John Helping them load Johnny onto the stretcher, it was normally him doing this to Judas. By his own choice. His overdoses. His mistakes. Yet, here his brother was. His protector. Laid out on the streets like the common thug he was not on a day that was meant to be one of the happiest in his life. The nurses were quickly interfering. Pushing him off and the stretcher. Resolved to keep up with them as they hit the emergency wing and he attempted to descramble what all was being said as a doctor joined in. Ripping open his shirt where Judas was forced into the understanding of how bad this was. Three gapping wounds. One of which landing at his side, around his lungs. If not in it. The nurses tending to that wound in particular before he was wheeled off into the operating room and he was stopped. Out of breath. One nurse standing directly before the doors. Explaining to him what she could. His vitals were slowing, internal bleeding suspected and a possible punctured lung. They'd need to get him into surgery as soon as possible.

Spence Dragging the receiver of the phone back into her hand once more, this time to dial out herself one of only three numbers she knew by heart. As John’s phone rang, it quickly went to voicemail, at which she could only imagine him to be on the phone with River’s grandmother. “Hey, it’s me. You’ve been gone a while and maybe you’re just waiting for River downstairs, which is fine, but my mom keeps calling… I’ve asked them to not forward her calls to the room and… you know what, this is stupid. I’ve got it handled. I’ll see you when you get back. Yeah…” Her yeah indicative of their code, not daring to leave a voicemail on his non-encrypted phone that said anything more than just that. Hanging up the phone, she laid back in the bed, attempting to close her eyes yet now all she could do was think. Perhaps her mom wasn’t involved in the bribe her father had offered, yet how could she not be. Her last sighting of her mother was one in which she was demanding to be able to see Spencer, to talk to her, yet had been refused. She had to have at least known about it, if not been the brains behind it. Trying to weigh it out, she couldn’t let one of her parents in and not the other. If her mother had wanted to be there for her, she would have reached out before now. But she hadn’t, which to Spencer was enough to peg her with guilt for the bribery as an accomplice at the least. If she couldn’t sleep, she’d at least lay with her eyes closed, counting the minutes until the door would open to reveal the doting father John was, and then once again all would be right in the world, but in the meantime, she was left only with that feeling of utter abandonment by the two people who were supposed to love her more than life itself. What had once been the greatest storybook upbringing had gone to hell in a hand basket, only leading Spencer to be more determined to never make Rhys feel the way her own parents had made her feel in the last few months.

John Left with nothing to do but to walk outside. By then, the cops were on their way. Sirens blaring. His car still idled and running before the pool of blood, knife and the phone his brother had dropped. Grabbing the blood soaked phone that he wiped off on his jeans. He was left complacent. He didn't know what to do. Pulling his car into a space by the time the police had arrived. Naturally quick to give his statement. What he had drove into, what today was, who he had seen leaving, whose police crested knife sat on the concrete. The panic attack was creeping up on him yet suddenly the realization of Spence hit him like a stack of bricks. The woman was somewhere in that hospital waiting for her husband. He couldn't bare being away from that operating room yet wasn't allowed away from the cops yet but couldn't tell her what had happened until he understood. Quickly calling Jade, he knew better than to call his mom though he desperately needed some back up. An extra hand before he lost it with this creeping realization that his brother may not pull this off. Somewhere in the operating room, they were attempting to stabilize his vitals. His lung had been punctured by the blade and rapidly filled leaving him unstable. Breathing difficulty achieved as they sought out the source of the bleed in attempt to stop it all.

Spence The longer John was gone from the room, the more unsettled Spencer became. After her mother’s blowing up of the room phone, then the realization of just how long it had been that John had been out of the room, she couldn’t imagine John deciding to wait downstairs for River, nor could she imagine him downstairs with Judas shooting the shit when his son laid in that room. Something wasn’t right. Though it took a while for her to realize it, it was right there before her. Deciding to try John’s phone again, not caring if it made her out to look pathetic. At this point, everything within her said something wasn’t right and the key to that was some form of contact with John. Had he been stopped at the nurse’s station? Was something wrong with Rhys but no one was telling her? Had his mother shown up, demanding to see her grandchild? Her mind spun with possibility. Though she had made it clear who she wanted to be there and thus leaving out the rest of the James/Reese clans, did someone show up that she didn’t want there and he was attempting to hold them off as best he could? A sea of questions were there in his mind as she pressed the last digit to John’s number from the room phone once again, only hoping he would pick up this time. Still not thinking anything was necessarily wrong with the man, only what he may be going through to honor her wishes, or if he was waiting for River who should be well in transit now. It was then her thoughts took an entirely different line. What if River’s grandmother declined bringing him? After all the headway they had made there, perhaps the woman was suddenly refusing. This would likely send John into a rage as he was putting himself out there, contacting the woman directly himself. Her mind grasping for any reason John wasn’t in that room as she heard the phone begin ringing there in her ear, waiting for his voicemail, hoping for his voice instead.

John As John's phone rang, he looked down at the blood spread screen. A swell of anxiety hit him as he walked back into the hospital. Stopping in the waiting room. He had to take this. Accepting the call, a shakey hand brought it to his ear. "Spence?" He asked, not thinking, in a moment of stress-based anxiety that it could be anything differently. "Hey, it's Judas...I..." glancing back into the parking lot, the O.R. doors still not moving. The car belonging to River's grandparents stopped by police. "Fuck..." he sighed into the receiver. "I'll come talk to you in a few." Hanging up the phone, a jog to the parking lot where the mere sight of his nephew being pulled out of his car sight caught the man to break down from how much the kid looked like his brother.

Spence “Judas?” It was in this moment she knew something wasn’t just wrong, it was terribly wrong. Why would Judas have John’s phone? It didn’t make sense. Hearing the expletive there at his lips, her heart raced as she prompted for information. “Judas, where’s Joh—“ Before she could finish her question, he was telling her he would come see her in a few minutes. Then all at once, the call was gone. “Judas??” Hearing the blank tone on the other end of the line, she slammed the receiver down in its cradle. Perhaps never feeling as trapped as she did in that moment, stuck in that room, needing to know what in the world was going on, yet with no ability to do so. Laying back in the bed, staring at the ceiling as she attempted to make sense of absolutely nothing more than Judas answering John’s phone, cursing, then promising to come see her soon and hanging up. It didn’t make sense. Still not thinking to phone Ryan to check in with p.d. on anything, yet the longer this went on, the more her mind would drift in that direction.

John After a brief break down at the sight of River, the poor kid never being more terrified or brought into a worse situation. The police explaining more than he could and that John was in the O.R. and his wife was upstairs with their new born. Only when he pulled himself together in front of a woman who he never wanted to see cry, was he taking River. She explained that he helped most things. He looked just like his brother before the world had gotten to him. Acted like him to. Gentle, soft, quick to cry. Everything that he should have been before the world and their mother took it from him. “Let’s go upstairs and be there for her.” The Russian woman in her broken woman explained though Judas would decline. He needed to be with John, she could go up as a virtual stranger with River and tell her what she knew as Judas remained near the O.R. Desperate for updates. Willing to send Jade upstairs when she got there but for now? He would play the part of sentinel as he went inside. Desperate for an update as River and his grandmother went upstairs to the maternity ward.

Spence The list of who Spencer wanted in the room was there with John on an operating table, with no way for it to be honored at this point in time. It was evident as River and his grandmother entered the room. It was meant to be only River and Judas, and even that had taken some time to bring the woman around to, but now she was face to face with River’s grandmother… instantly telling her there was far more wrong than she could have known for John was not to allow her there. The first offense telling her John was clearly not in charge here anymore. Someone else was. Someone else who didn’t know her wishes which meant this room just became a free for all. Spencer’s relationship with the woman was professional at best, never letting the woman see the true side of her as she was too busy being the kind of person she would permit the child around for the betterment of John and River’s relationship. When the door opened, her eyes shot to the door, instantly expecting John, perhaps with Mexican food which would explain his absence. When she saw River, all of her own fears had to be put to the side as she was faced with introducing the boys to one another alone… in a moment she knew John would want to be there for, yet there was no way to put it off. Questions of how she was were asked, to which she gave her best fake smile, acknowledging some pain though she was still refusing pain meds until John’s return. River was placed there in her lap, instantly a hug placed around her neck by the seventeen month old as the two had grown quite fond of one another. “Hey big guy… your dad had to step out for a few minutes, but… we were pretty excited to have you meet your baby brother. Should we wait for daddy or you want to…” Before he could answer, she was shaking her head no, prompting River to do the same as the woman stood to the end of the bed, visually pitying the woman as she sat clueless in that bed. Sitting River over to the side of her, she reached into the plastic bassinet to withdraw the tiny baby from within. “River, this is your brother, Rhys. Rhys, this is your big brother, River.” With introductions given, Spencer drew the infant close to her chest, cradling him in her arms as she brought one hand to River’s, drawing one finger out as she instructed him to slip his finger into Rhys’ grip. “Be gentle,” she instructed, eyes shifting there between the boys to River’s grandmother, questioning hues though she couldn’t ask, nor could she be offered much with River there in the room.

John As Jade arrived to the hospital, he chose to put her on the doors. Still hearing nothing which left him with a horribly unsettling feeling about what was going on within as he decided to brave the elevator. Terrified of them, yet, he had to get over it to get upstairs and into the maternity ward. Soaked in blood that was not his. John’s phone in his pocket as he found the correct room. Slowly slipping within the doorway as he stopped there. Not wanting to disturb progress as River and Rhys met. Swallowing hard as the sight of River was a difficult one at that point but the baby. Laying his eyes on his nephew for the first time. Stepping forward into the room like he had seen a ghost. he approached. Eyes locked on the baby. Not saying or doing anything else but looking at him. Finding himself completely unable to speak yet the blood on his shirt might have spoken for itself.

Spence As Judas entered the room, Spencer’s questioning eyes drifted from River’s grandmother’s straight to Judas’ face, then his shirt. “What do you think of your broth—“ Immediately her breath was stolen from her mid-sentence as she attempted to ask River what he thought of Rhys, trying to hold her shit together, but the moment she saw Judas’ shirt, there was no keeping anything together. Spencer’s arms went weak to which River’s grandmother was quickly there to grasp the baby she had no right to hold, bringing him to her chest as she brought him back to the bassinet before asking River if he’d like to go to the gift shop and get something for baby Rhys. In the interim, Spence was already in tears, with no possibility of holding them back. A gentle hand from the grandmother was at her back as she pressed a kiss to Spencer’s temple, assuring her all would be okay in Russian to which Spencer wouldn’t understand, nor would she attempt to. The exit of River and his grandmother was quick as she knew now was not the time to have River in the room, the first time ever the boy would be exposed through Spencer to anything aside from the greatest time with his dad. “What in the fuck… what is… that’s John’s… tell me where… what…” Her own distance from Judas didn’t matter in that moment, only the fact that he knew something she didn’t. Not a thing coming from her mouth made any sense, though these ramblings would be familiar to John as she often lost her ability to complete a thought when her own emotion took over. Reaching out for Judas’ shirt, she grasped it tightly in her small hands, pulling him towards her without a moment of pause. “What happened to my husband?!” She screamed through her tears, finally completing a single sentence as she made no secret of her emotional attachment to the man many thought to be nonexistent.

John As the two left, he swallowed hard as he glanced down towards her trying to piece things together. Feeling her at his shirt wet with his brothers blood as she pulled him forward and her voice found his ears. “He…uh…” pausing, knowing he needed to get this out. A moment of hesitation meant to suggest he was dead. He wasn’t. “He’s fighting.” he managed, eyes still closed before he glanced down towards her. Inhaling a shaky breath as he looked down towards her. Biting down at the quiver of his bottom lip. “I drove into the parking lot and I almost hit ‘em. He was just laying there. I tried to get him up but he was out and your dad…he was-fuck, your dad…” not meaning to go that far with it. “The knife. The knife with the fuckin’ cop emblem on it. I have his phone and the knife. The cops took the knife for evidence but I have the phone…” he emphasized, pulling it out from his pocket where the dried and bloody remains still laid over the device. Not sure he was making sense either.

Spence That brief moment of hesitation there spoke volumes to the woman as a loud ‘no’ left her lips, her hands only tightening in his shirt. By the time he confessed John was fighting, she was sobbing into the blood of her husband still damp in that shirt. Not able to look up from that shirt as she heard him continue on, mentioning her father. “My dad… my dad what?!” She demanded as he went on to describe a knife she knew all too well. Her hands in fists, pulling at the shirt, as if it would make things any better. As the phone was pulled from his pocket, she didn’t want it. She didn’t want anything in that moment but to be wherever John was. Using her hands there in his shirt, pulling herself from the bed with little to no regard to the trauma her own body had been through just two hours before, not caring about the gown she wore that was quickly absorbing blood from Judas’ clothes, she rose to her feet. “You take me to him, right now. Get someone in here with Rhys and you fucking take me to him. Fucking take me to him NOW.” Leaving no room for argument, her hands pounded against his chest as she kept her fists there in his shirt for stability. “Get Detective Ryan here and get me to John and don’t tell me that I can’t. Tell those nurses to let no one near this baby and you take me to him now, Judas, please.”

John “I want to be with him to.” he reminded her as his voice broke, he couldn’t get her to him and he couldn’t get to him. He was in the operating room around a half dozen doctors all attempting to do the same thing. John would just about kill him if he knew he was letting his wife get restless this long after delivery. “I have Jade downstairs at the doors. When she knows, I’ll know and you will know. The only thing we can do for him right now is this. So please, sit down.” If he sounded like he was begging, it was because he was. He couldn’t take anything else at that moment. Already yearning for some kind of chemical substance to chill him out right now. “Please, just sit down.”

Spence “You come in here, wearing John’s blood, and you’re going to ask me to sit down? To sit fucking down? You sit fucking down and you play happy uncle and I’m going to get some god damned answers!” Literally screaming at the man as she would have anyone else who dared try to keep her from John, she shoved her fists against him, making a quick turn for the door to the room. “Sit down. Like fucking hell I’m going to sit down. I’m not waiting on any fucking phone call.” As the words continued pouring from her mouth, she was reaching for the i.v. there in her arm, literally ripping it from her skin as she left it to fall on the floor as she made a quick line to the door. Her feet unsteady as she took those first unassisted steps, quickly grasping to the end of the bed for stability, denying the fact she wasn’t physically able to do that which she was setting forth to do. Reaching forward for the door before her hand would slip, her foot to follow, falling to her knees there in the entryway to the room. Without pause, attempting to find her feet once more, determination to be reckoned with as the words continued to pour out from her lips as the tears soaked her face. “He is my husband and I am supposed to be with him! So you can help me or you can stand in my way, but either way, I am getting to him. Do you understand me?” On her knees as she attempted to find her footing again, pressing one foot to the floor as she attempted to rise, pausing there on one knee as the reality of it all set in on her. There was nothing she could do for John. Her father had tried to pay him to leave her and when he realized John had not gone through with it he attempted killing him to make his point. As it all fell on her, she was weighed down to the floor, unable to continue her mission to rise, instead bringing her head there to her thigh, pressing her face to the fabric of the gown she wore, realizing the happiest day of their lives had just been altered by the hand of her own father, willing to go this far as to face murder charges which she would make sure would be pressed by the state, taking whatever chance there was at redemption and throwing it all away with his need to make John disappear.

John He was no stranger to outbursts, thus, as he landed himself one at the hands of his sister-in-law, he saw it coming. Feeling her fists as she went to the door, knowing she wouldn’t get that far. He had her stuck in this room whether she realized it or not. Allowing her to get some aggression out before she’d get back to that bed one day or another. Watching her rip out her I.V. “And is that going to help him?” he finally barked back. He was a moment behind her as she reached her knees. Already gathering the attention of the nurses in the hallway. Catching up with her as she attempted to rise and his hands were finding her upper arms. “He is my fucking brother and he is your fucking husband.” he reminded her, not one to sit back and take the hits like John was. He’d speak to it as his own strength took over. Grabbing the nearby wheel chair that he pulled towards them, hitting the brakes on it as he was slowly and carefully lifting her to sit down it with the help of a few nurses within quickly attempting to take care of her now blown I.V. “I have been with him since the day that someone brought me up to one of these rooms and showed me to him just like you just introduced River to Rhys. I am his older brother. I was supposed to protect him.” feeling the weight of it himself, making her realize that she was not the only one with something to lose here. “But there is nothing that either of us can do right now…we both now how strong he is. He’ll fight until he cannot fight anymore. This is all we can do, Spencer.”

Spence In a manner that only John would understand, the woman went silent. All that was left was her tears to speak to her mindset there as she was moved against her will. Within the chair, she felt as the nurses attempted to start a new i.v. line in her other arm as Judas spoke before her. She would never see it that way, no matter what was said to her. All she saw was another person standing before her, telling her she couldn’t be with John. She couldn’t see the logic in it, nor would she ever. She had felt the distance from Jade as she went on about her life, not bothering with the friendship she and Spencer had seemingly developed. The same was true for Gia. Nearly every person donning the last name James had either made an attempt at separating she and John, saying John was cheating on her, or distanced themselves from her. Judas had been the one and only exception to this, but even that was only developed when she took the life of a blonde making claims similar to most of the others. She couldn’t rely on her parents. She couldn’t rely on anyone but John and now she saw Judas as nothing more than another person standing in her way to get to John. Knowing she had but one choice here. To sit in that chair, allow the i.v. to be started again, play it silent until finally everyone would realize she’d not engage them. Ultimately they would all leave her be and then she could do what she felt was necessary to do, get to John’s side one way or another. Be it with or without their help. Once the i.v. was in, she was wheeled back over to the bed, to which she’d push helping hands away as she made that transition herself, refusing to be babied any longer. Sitting in the center of the bed, refusing to lay back, refusing to take it easy, refusing to attempt to be comfortable in the meantime, taking her vow of silence until she could find a way out of that room even if it meant discharging herself against medical advice to do so. Knowing just enough to be dangerous at this point in time as she could not be held against her will, but she’d let it be thought that she was contained, at least for the time being. All the while, her tears were not ceasing, as it was the one thing she couldn’t control at this point in time.

John She could fight him on it all she wanted, he knew what he had to combat it with. The two were blood. Inseparable. The only reason he was keeping it together right now is because he knew who his brother was. What he would want. He’d tell him to wipe his fucking eyes and go take care of his wife who needed someone there. Look after his kid. The same way John would if the tables were turned. Watching her at least sit down though clearly not wanting to do so. His phone rang. Momentarily confused of which one it was but answering his, his sister’s name across the front. Lifting it to his ear, hoping for good news. “Jade?” he asked, taking a step towards the bed where she sat. Preparing. “‘He is coming out now. The doctors think they have everything. Apparently he got knifed three times. The two hit his lungs. They have the bleeding stopped but they have him hooked up to a machine breathing through a tube in his chest. The doctors wanna’ keep him under a medically induced coma to make sure that nothing pops or gets yanked out. Also under a high risk of infection but…” closing his eyes, taking in a deep breath. It brought them into another battlefield but leaving that initial one. “Okay, thanks Jade.” hanging up the phone, he looked down towards her. Sure she’d been able to hear a lot of that.

Spence As Judas answered the call, coming to sit beside her on the end of the bed, she could hear the voice of a woman she had not heard from since before she was even sure she was pregnant. All of a sudden it felt as though James’ were coming out of the woodwork, filtering information down to her instead of allowing her to be there for him at all. Isolated from him in a manner she was sure at least half of them were more than likely always gunning for. Her own father managing to steal today from them and if it hadn’t been him, it would have been someone else because John James of South Philly wasn’t allowed to be happy. He wasn’t allowed to be there when his sons met. He wasn’t allowed to be there with his wife in those first days as a family unit. She couldn’t handle any of this. Judas had been kind enough to take them in when she did something that she’d forever regret, taking a life that she’d not have to pay for, and yet even he wouldn’t let her go to her husband. Unable to see it in her or Rhys’ best interest as she had been conditioned to feel this from day one. A man sitting there beside her who she had been accused of using John to get close to. Too much damage had been done to allow her to truly rely on anyone aside from John and yet John was the one paying for it all at the hands of her own father. Continuing her vow of silence, she resolved to the fact that any and all information on her husband’s condition would come from someone else, not even given the common courtesy to be spoken to by a doctor as his next of kin. He didn’t need her when he had his protective siblings to trump her yet again. Her mind swirled with anger and fear as she sat there on the bed, her eyes glassed over as her lower lip quivered, feeling as if she truly had no one. A moment later, River’s grandmother appeared in the door again with River there, to which Spencer simply shook her head no. She couldn’t play step mom. She couldn’t be excited for the boys to meet and River to give his gift to Rhys. She couldn’t do or say anything when all she felt was separation. Luckily, River’s grandmother understood, carrying River over to place the stuffed bear at the foot of the bassinet before telling Rhys, Spencer, and Judas they’d see them in a few days when he was at home. Spencer had to bite her tongue from telling the woman they didn’t have a home. They didn’t have anything anymore. Only offering a nod to the woman as River called ‘buh bye’ repeatedly on his way out the door with his grandmother.

John He stood up from the bed, knowing she didn’t want him there and that was okay for him. The separation was evident. Drawing places in the sand. As the mutual party he had always been was now being lumped into his last name. He stood over the bassinet which was the only place he’d be able to find any form of happiness as he looked down into the little face. “He has John’s eyes.” the man noted specifically, maybe speaking to himself. He wasn’t sure yet. But hardly a moment later, as if he knew he was being spoken about, those same eyes were opening. Mouth doing the same as he began a few practice whimpers, cries. Letting it be known that he was about to lose it as the infantile cry left his lips. The volume of which was nothing short of surprising. Glancing over towards Spence as he was not quite sure what to do with him in that moment. “Do you want me to pick him up?” he asked her, not wanting to touch him if she did not want him to. Much less while covered in the blood of the baby’s father who should have been here instead of him. Thinking that the kid was probably hungry by now.

Spence As Judas moved from the bed, over the bassinet, Spencer watched him as she attempted drawing deep breaths, though rather unsuccessfully. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Judas there. She was the one that had said it would be alright for Judas to be there, actually the only member of the James family she was alright with being there, though she’d never confess it. As he spoke, his words were true, bringing a fresh round of sobs from the woman once more. He did have John’s eyes, through and through, as she and John had established not too long before. Before everything went to hell. The sound from the child was heart wrenching, starting out slow before it would hit the heights she heard moments after his birth. Though everything in her wanted to tell him no, that he couldn’t hold him, and that he and Jade could leave, she knew it wasn’t what she actually felt. She knew enough to know that her problem wasn’t with Judas or even the absent Jade who she once thought to be her friend. Her problem was being away from John. Her problem was her father’s endless attempts at severing her marriage to John. Her problem was that her husband was floors below her, fighting for his life, and she was imprisoned in this room, supposed to be happy, supposed to be enjoying those first hours as a mother, completely unable to do so as her heart was downstairs. “Yeah…” she managed, the first spoken word from the woman in some time, the full rasp of her voice on display there as she had aggravated the natural problem she held there in her tears and not using her voice in so long. A part of her feeling that she couldn’t do this without John, almost thankful Judas was there in that moment to lift the child, to comfort him, when Spencer was complete incapable of such things in moments where it was she herself that needed comforting that couldn’t be offered from the infant. Two premade hospital bottles there on the shelf of the cart, though she had yet to determine if she’d nurse him or if she’d bottle feed him, now wasn’t the time for her to be making such decisions. She could find no joy in the child as she had not too long before. Now only able to think of how she had put that knife in her father’s hand by not finding a better way to ease her father into things, by blocking her parents out months before when they made a scene in that same hospital, by betraying her father for the man she loved. “There’s a bottle if he’ll take it,” she offered, feeling as though these things should be occurring between she and John, and yet there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.

John Picking him up carefully, Judas cradled the little boy. Knowing that the first few hours of his life should not be riddled with such things. Yet, he'd attempt to be as happy for his arrival as he could as he continued his cry. Showing that he was indeed hungry. Hearing her mention the bottle, his eyes flickered towards it. Back at her and then the baby. "You need to feed him for the first time." He insisted, refusing to deny him of this as he brought the baby before her. "I know it's hard to see the forrest through the trees right now but...Johnny might be downstairs but he's here also." He explained, glancing down towards the little guy with the same eyes. "He's in his blood. He needs you more than ever. Johnny has a theory that our mom didn't bond with him. He was born with blond hair and just like his dad and my mom couldn't bare to even look at him. Much less hold him, feed him...he'd want you to feed him. To bond with him..."

Spence As Judas moved towards her, bringing Rhys before her. Her arms formed to take the child though a part of her couldn’t bear to do this. As his weight was felt there in her arms, she recalled the last time she held him, at John’s side, the baby placed just into her arms just as Judas was doing now. The cry from the woman coming straight from her gut as she nodded her head, knowing Judas was right, even if none of this felt right anymore. With a shaky hand, she reached over to the cart at her bedside, taking the bottle from the shelf as she brought it to the child’s mouth, literally going through the motions at the willing of Judas’ instructions. Her sobs were unceasing as she looked down into the eyes of the child that were directed straight up to her own. Light eyes of his father, pinned to her own hazel hues. Her tears dropping from the curve of her cheek to the light blue of the blanket he was swaddled within. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, repeating it time and time again as she apologized for what the first hours of his life looked like. “I’m so sorry,” she continued, allowing herself to feel every bit of what was happening. Trying to remind herself that John was down there, fighting for her, fighting for both of his sons, fighting to get back to them though every part of her felt as if she was robbing him of all of the first moments she promised him he would have, together with her and their son. Not wanting to lean on anyone, as she truly felt as though the only one she could trust was John, she was left with no other choice as she propped the bottle there against her chest as her hand reached to Judas’. Not separating his fingers as she would have with John, but rather her fingers folding over his hand at the hook of his thumb. Silently thanking him for being there, but also asking him to stay all at the same time. She was tired and knew there was no way she could do this on her own, even if a part of her was already thinking in that direction. If John didn’t pull through, her parents would assume this would send her running back to them, which she was sure was the end goal here, but in all actuality, she knew she’d take this child and run as far away from them as she possibly could, finding a way to do it on her own as there was no possible way she could leave this child. In the past, when she had been told of John’s inability to stay true to her, she had plotted her own death. She knew without him, she’d rather die than continue. But as she looked into those light eyes of this child, leaving this world if John wasn’t in it was no longer an option. Now she had to stay for him, if for no other reason. Tightening her hand in Judas’, though it felt foreign in her hand, thanking him without words before she’d retract her hand entirely. A gesture meant to apologize at the same time for the things she had said, for lashing out, though if ever her relationship with John had been brought into question, Judas had now seen first hand what that man downstairs meant to her. He wasn’t a place holder. He wasn’t a good time. Her love for him ran as deep as love could possibly run and Judas had just watched as a woman’s heart was ripped to shreds. She’d still need to get out of that room. She’d still need to get to John herself, to be at his side, willing him the strength to fight this fight, but for now, she’d sit in the bed, feeding their child for the first time as the tears freely fell against her face and the soft fabric of a blanket in her arms.

John "It is going to be alright, Spence. The worse is over." He stated, a gentle squeeze of the woman's hand. Now that she had let Judas in, he could work with her. "I'm on your side here...but if I don't look after you and him right, he's gonna come kick my ass." He reminded her, attempting a bit of humor as if there was anyone who could lay Judas out, it was most likely Johnny. They had come to blows many of times but never to the point of having an actual winner as both lost in that situation. "You just gotta sit tight and the nurses will probably let me get you into the wheel chair and see him in a bit." He reminded her as she went ahead to feed Rhys, reaching out for a few tissues at the bedside table as her hand moved. "And I'm going to make sure he gets the best doctors money can buy so he's back on his feet and back with his baby and his wife where he belongs. You can quote me on that."

Spence The idea of a nurse bringing in a wheel chair to allow her to be brought to John was just the light she needed to see in that moment. She had been encouraged to walk around, to move about the hospital freely at any time she wished as long as the baby was checked into the nursery and not taken from that floor, to which would allow for something of that sort to occur. She nodded her head as Judas offered he a promise she knew he couldn’t keep for no other reason than the fact that it sounded every bit like what she needed to hold on to. “I’m holding you to it,” she offered in return to his willingness to be quoted. She didn’t want a quote. She wanted words that would hold water, something that would hold weight, something that would get her son’s father and her husband back to them in the condition he left them in. Still a part of her there that hated all of this, as it would be for some time, facing the unforeseeable future without John there, all of the promises in the world wouldn’t stop her tears from falling. “I’m going to need you to do me a favor, if you don’t mind… there’s cops downstairs that will be working this case, more than likely camping outside John’s I.C.U. room, waiting for him to wake up to get his statement. I need names on them. I want you to request Detective Kenneth Ryan be put on this case. Then, I want the lead detective sent up here for my statement,” she added, taking a deep breath as she attempted to find something here that she could do. Not sure if Judas was in the know of what statement it was Spencer could offer there, yet she was the one that held the information to provide true motive in the case which would land her father behind bars sooner rather than later. “Then I need you to go to the quarters John and I have been staying in. In the top drawer of the nightstand is my gun, cuffs, and my badge. You can’t get caught with these or you’ll be brought up on charges of impersonating an officer. But I need both. Then I want Ryan notified that the moment I’m released, we are going to my father’s apartment and I’m making that arrest myself. I have eighteen more hours before they’ll release me and that is more than enough time to get an arrest warrant after my statement is taken, even without John’s.”

John Hearing her mention a favor, his brow was cocking. Only able to imagine what this woman had in mind. He knew it wouldn’t be something casual. A trip for food, go home and grab a movie. It had to be something big. Listening to her, the initial sounded easy enough. To push the case in one direction or another, it would need to be if there was to be justice. Regardless of the fact that his brother laid downstairs and her father was off somewhere, his brother was a biker. His last name made him notorious and her father was a cop. The system always swayed towards the latter, no matter what crimes they committed. No matter how red handed. Though, he began to understand the favor as the reason why she needed her badge. A low breath. “and you what happens if I do this and somethin’ happens to you because you overexerted yourself 24 hours after giving birth? Then what? He’ll fuckin’ kill me. You ever look Johnny James in the eyes when he’s pissed?” he asked, only able to wonder if she understood what he was risking here.

Spence Knowing what he said was true, she had looked the man in the eyes when he was pissed. She’d been on the receiving end of that very thing a time or two, though she’d never divulge those details to another soul. Easily able to remember the flash of rage in the man’s eyes the night he caught her with a blade on their sofa, she’d nod her head as she acknowledged that she knew what it looked like. “You ever look Spencer James in the eyes when her father tries to kill her husband on the day of the birth of their child and try to tell her she can’t get justice for her husband fighting for his life downstairs where she can’t get to him?” She asked rhetorically as it was the equivalent of what he had offered her. She had seen what he was talking about just as much as he was watching her do what she could from that bed. She might not have a lot of anything on her side, and it might’ve been all her fault at the very core of this, but she’d do what needed to be done there and if a shot or two were fired from her gun in the process of the arrest, it was nothing that her partner wouldn’t lie away for her on. “Just please do it. I swear to you, no overexerting anything but my trigger finger and my cuff latching finger. Two fingers are all that’s at risk,” she assured as it was really that simple to her, already knowing it would be the trigger finger that would get the best work out on this one. “Justice is mine on this one, Judas.”

John “I have, but you don’t got a killer left hook.” he pointed out, as she was not nearly as scary as he was. Not to say she wasn’t scary on her own but Johnny took it. Hearing her continue as she mentioned her trigger finger, he had to shake his head. “See, no. You can’t be shootin’ anyone. You are on the job. You got witnesses. Two wrongs don’t equal a right here. I am not against killin’ people…” he acknowledged, letting her simmer on that. “But if you are gonna’ do it, you need to do it right. So you can go out there and arrest him and bring him to justice or you can figure out what you wanna’ do with him later but you can’t just go around shootin’ people as a cop. This is how you get yourself locked up. There is more at risk right now then vengeance. It is not gonna’ taste sweet from a jail cell. He needs you.” he reminded her, gesturing down towards the feeding baby in her arms not even 24 hours removed from her.

Spence She already had it worked out in her own head. If her father made a play for her gun, or if it appeared he had one of his own, she could easily use self defense, to which her partner would lie and swear to it under oath. She wouldn’t get locked up for this, at the very worst she’d be put on probation until an investigation was held, but by then her father would be paying for his crimes against her husband, her son, and herself. Releasing a held breath as she glanced down to the baby there in her arms, asleep with the bottle not moving against his lips, she withdrew it, bringing the newborn to her shoulder as she gentle rubbed his back. “When John wakes up, I want to be able to tell him that never again will he be ambushed or blackmailed by my father and I want to mean it.” She stated almost calmly, her voice still breaking under the weight of the tears she had shed, yet somehow feeling a little less helpless in the situation. With a soft release of air passing Rhys’ lips, she lowered him carefully back into her arms, eyes lifting to Judas’. “If you want to help me, I’ve told you how to do it. If you don’t, I’ll find another way. One year ago today, I met your brother. Was at one of your shows with Gia. Wanted to meet you, actually. At an after party, Gia was all set to introduce us until I saw John. He was standing over against the wall, doing the whole dark and scary thing, taking care of you from a distance. Instantly, I wanted to know him. It was magnetic the way I was drawn to him. I don’t know if you remember, but Gia introduced us that night, but even as I spoke to you, I was fixed on him. We hooked up that night and four days later got married. Granted, it might not have been for love, but the chemistry was intense and there was no denying it. That night changed my life as I put him above me and he put me above him. We did what had to be done to protect ourselves and one another. This time, John can’t protect us, but I can.”

John Smirking softly as she mentioned doing his “dark and scary” thing. That which he did so well in contract to Judas’ light and charisma. They were different, but he’d be damned if he didn’t love him for it. He had a mind like a chessboard. Each move to the next. Methodical. Defensive. Like he had led armies to war and victory before. If there was one man he wanted protecting him, it was Johnny. Never had any harm come to him. Nothing like what Judas had allowed to happen to him. As she went onto speak about their magnetism, he knew it to be true. “I’ll help you.” he stated simply. “but only with the reminder that if something gets fucked up that you hurt him twice over. He might kill me if I help you with this but the betrayal will kill him.” he reminded her, as the emotional pain of this could be beyond repair. The destruction, the schism. “So just keep that in mind as you try to keep your ‘trigger finger’ under wraps…” Judas concluded, much more of the gambler than his brother ever was.

Spence Hearing Judas agree to help her, it would only be then that a hint of what might be a smile somewhere within the woman would show the tiniest hint. “Thank you,” she whispered, placing that bottle to the shelf it had come from, saving the rest for later. Now, she had to get through the next seventeen and a half hours while she waited on a formal arrest warrant so things could go into motion. “I’ll do my best,” she agreed, though she already knew her trigger finger was not to be controlled in the slightest as she trusted her partner whole heartedly to have her back on this one if he didn’t take out Brock Reese on his own before she got the chance to. “Nothing is going to get fucked up. Promise.” She didn’t make promises she couldn’t keep and she didn’t offer them to just anyone, so the fact alone that she was promising him spoke volumes to just how much she had come around, though in all actuality it was all just something for her to focus on, to feel that she was doing something. She was not okay, nor would she be okay, as she sat there, seemingly calm as she plotted the death of her father as though it were any other individual in the world. Disassociating from herself in that moment as she drew all focus and drive into that single event that she already knew would not result in handcuffs being used.

John As the day ended and the night wore on, Judas wasn’t going anywhere. Guarding the room like a soldier as he took to the couch that had previously been promised to John. Sprawled out upon it. Attempting to get some rest as he had gotten himself a change of clothes and a shower to wash away the blood. Yet, the trash bag containing them in the corner of the room remained in his vision. Not sure whether the cops would want them for evidence or not. He had gone down and did his part. Speaking to the cops, pressuring them to put her Detective on with no prior knowledge of who he was as well as going home. Getting himself some clothes and bringing her bags into the room with the addition of her gun and badge to the bottom of the bag. Only stirring with a knock on the door that lured him to his feet, opening it where the detectives were present to finally take her statement.

Spence Sleep was again a luxury that Spencer could not obtain. It was hard enough to imagine she’d be able to do so in that bed with John there at her side, where she knew she’d beg him to lay with her instead of on that sofa, but now to do so alone, knowing he was downstairs, waiting on updates through two filters, getting third party information where she felt less and less like his wife and more and more like some distant relative, sleep just wasn’t happening. Her body took what it demanded, a half hour here and a half hour there. Woken by every sound of passing footsteps outside the door, every entry of a nurse into the room, every soft noise from the newborn she was meant to be enjoying. Now successfully able to move about the room herself, having showered herself and dressed in her own clothes, she laid with her eyes closed, appearing asleep though true rest would never come. In the morning hours, the knock at the door would instantly have her sitting up, knowing it wasn’t a nurse as the half-knock was always only paused after a moment before the door was opened. This was different, telling her it was either someone she didn’t want there to begin with or it was the lead detective she had requested via Judas be sent to the room. As he walked through the door, her own sergeant there before her, not having expected such a high ranking official on this, it changed her mind on everything. The way she had it all planned out in her mind, making sure that her father either died or was in prison for the rest of his days, now was all out of her hands as the man that stood at the foot of her bed was one she knew would stop at nothing to protect her and the baby, even if it meant doing so for a man he would only now come to find out she had married a year before. The two conversed as old friends for a few moments, allowing the sergeant to meet the child at least visually that had taken his detective from his unit to desk duty before they would get to her formal statement. “That knife belongs to Brock Reese, former police chief in McKinney, Texas.” Her father had been off the force for many years, after being injured in the line of duty. Though his name would mean nothing to any cop in Philly, it meant something back home. “I bought it for him Christmas of 09. On the inside of the blade are his initials, B.R. Six months ago, he and John had an altercation in this hospital as my father did not want me married to John, much less having a child with him. It came to my attention two nights ago that he blackmailed John with more than ten thousand dollars to step away from me, leaving me in whatever manner he so chose. This happened several weeks back. John accepted the money, but never intended to go through with that which it meant. Though I didn’t witness this, I can tell you without a doubt that this is your motive.” The sergeant looked on in shock as Spencer detailed out the reasons her father would want to commit such a crime, asking her if she was sure she wanted to do this, giving her the opportunity to pull back from her statement. “I’m sure,” she offered, taking the pen from her sergeant’s hand, etching her signature in full form against the form on his lap. “And I’m willing to testify against him.” The sergeant took the form, nodding to Spencer as he glanced over to Judas then back to her once more, offering the form to Judas to sign as a witness. Assurances were granted that this was more than enough motive for an arrest warrant, along with a side promise that her father would pay for this. It was then the dampness would appear in the corner of her eyes, nodding her head in gratitude that not only would she not have to do what she had planned to do here, but that it was truly going to be handled as she could trust this man to not let her father go regardless of how decorated a cop he had once been.

John Many of this was news to Judas. While he and his brother were close, they had been distracted the past few weeks. With Spence being close to having the baby and Judas narrowly grasping onto the threads of his sobriety only to fall off, he perhaps had not been as attentive as he should have. Yet, hearing that his brother had taken the money was somehow a surprise to him. Had he considered doing it to back out? Was it for money? Was he that hard-up? Those thoughts took him to being prompted for a signature. Taking up a pen where he signed off his name and handed the pen back. Only able to wonder if she’d be content leaving this in someone else’s hands or whether she was still hot on the trail of getting him herself. Losing track of what was true and what was cover. He resolved himself back to the couch. Not belonging in this world as he was merely there to make sure she was alright while his brother was down.

Spence Once the form was signed, the sergeant would spend but a few more minutes there, asking Spencer to rest and try to enjoy that new baby as best she could, letting this fall into his hands as he assured her there would be justice served. For the first time, she felt as though that might actually be true without having to get her hands dirty in the process. Slipping a card to the table beside her bed, he bid his farewells to both Spence and Judas before he was seeing himself out. Once it was all said and done, she leaned back in the bed, glancing over to Judas as she attempted to read a man’s face that she barely knew. “What you signed is true,” she offered, giving at least some peace to the man that he had not just signed his name to a falsehood of a testimony. Drawing the blanket back up over herself, she laid silently for several minutes until she’d release a heavy breath. “John won’t be here to sign the birth certificate,” she whispered, knowing that along with other release forms were just a few hours out.

John “I wonder why he took it then…” the man hummed, wishing he hadn’t. Wishing his brother would just let him help him. “You know…it ain’t even really like help. He worked for me for all those years without collectin’ a real paycheck. He stayed on the tour bus, we ate together. I shared my cigarettes and my clothes with him but he didn’t get a paycheck at the end of the week. If anything, I just want to reimburse him. I could help youse out. A lot.” showing that it did upset him that he couldn’t just fix it all. “Like…I’ve been helpin’ out with the house and all. I ‘loaned’ him a few grand for paint and shit but I know he is gonna’ pay me that back.” he remarked, not knowing he wasn’t supposed to let the cat out of the bag on that one. That the house was theirs and the paint was drying on many rooms as they spoke. That the little guy’s room was finished and now just airing out. Hearing her mention the birth certificate, he had no idea how it worked. He just knew his brother would sooner be dead then not get his name on his birth certificate. “How does that work? You can’t just put his name there since you are his wife and all?”

Spence “He took it because it was mine,” she confessed, not getting into the details of just how much money she had filtered to her father over the last five years, or that it was all dirty money though only John and Kenneth knew it. Not wanting Judas to feel at all responsible for it, though she understood why he would. Listening as he spoke about his brother and what life before her had looked like, she drew a breath, unable to picture John in those scenarios. As mention of the house was made, money for paint that John would be paying back, there was a tilt there to her head. Hearing his question of the birth certificate, she’d explain that part later, but for now she was fixated on the statement of the house. “He borrowed money from you to paint the house that we don’t yet know if we got?” She asked, clearly not in the know on what was going on there. The day before had been spent shopping together, awaiting that call that never came, but now she was finding that the call had more than likely occurred days prior. A slow smile slipped across her face, the first true smile she’d had since John left that room the day before. “He got the house??” Nodding her head, she instantly was sure, taking one thing off the long list of things she had to be worried about.

John Hearing her confession, it made even less sense to him but he didn’t think it would. The woman was already stuck, making him realize that maybe it would be a surprise. Yet, it was already out there now. Too late to backtrack. Glancing over towards her, he nodded at her question. “Yeah…we painted Rhys’ room like 2 days ago, some of the other rooms like 2 days ago. Usually when he said he was goin’ to work. The rest of the house doesn’t need it but his room and the bedroom look really nice. Carpet in the baby room, hardwood in the bedroom. Crown molding. The works. The other rooms don’t really need to be repainted, you guys can decide if you want to do that shit later. He just wanted it to be move in ready. Now youse just need furniture. Rhys’ room is done completely but like I said, waitin’ for the paint vapors to lift.” he explained as he rubbed over his bearded cheeks.

Spence The furniture was one of the things they had taken care of the day before, at least for Rhys’ room, all pending delivery once they were to get the final word on the house, only leaving her to wonder if John had arranged delivery of those items behind her back at some point during the day. The smile became more and more genuine as it became clear that John took care of almost everything, just like he promised he would. Her amazement was written all over her face as she gave that all a moment to set in on her, John taking care of them both even when she didn’t know it. Easily recalling how she told him it was important to her that at least Rhys have a room to be taken from the hospital to, even if the house wasn’t ready to live in. She still wanted his first moments beyond that hospital room to be in his real room in his real house where he’d grow up, even if it took time for them to fully move into the home. Now though, they were hours from the discharge of both her and the baby, but yet no closer to John being able to cross that threshold with his wife and son. Either demanding she give up her dream of him going to his room immediately, or giving up John’s right to bring his family home for the first time. “So yeah, I can put his name, but without his signature, it’s not official,” she managed, bringing the conversation back around to that birth certificate. Still entirely in awe of all that John had done for them. Rising from the bed, she stood beside Rhys’ bassinet, looking down at the little one that had inspired so much work from both John and Judas, only wishing John had been there to see the surprise on her face when she put it all together. “Think there’s any chance they’d make an allowance for this whole ‘he can’t leave this floor’ business to maybe go help wake his dad up?” She asked, eyes cutting to Judas’ as she made her first true attempt at getting out of that room to go see John now that she was steady on her feet, only wanting to do so with Rhys before he was officially discharged. Knowing it was a long shot, but it couldn’t hurt to ask considering.

John “No, they ain’t lettin’ that baby get no where.” he stated honestly. A good thing, if nothing else. Knowing their security risks. Knowing that Rhys was secure and safe here if nothing else. “But I think, with all things considered, you and I can at least get down there. I’m sure they have some medical shit they gotta’ get permission for anyway. So far, they have just been operating on his best wishes but now, some decisions will start to come into play.” he reminded her. Giving up a yawn that nothing would come from. Judas was nothing else if not an insomniac. Needing to get absolutely wasted or high off of his mind to really sleep. Neither of which was an option. Thus, she’d be stuck with him. “You just think you are ready to see him?” Judas finally asked, eyes lifting towards Spence as /he/ wasn’t sure he was ready to see Johnny. Not out of a desire to not be there for him but just to actually see what all had happened after the fact and the way he was being sustained.

Spence “I think it doesn’t matter what I’m ready to see or not ready to see. I think that’s my life down there, fighting to come back, and if I don’t walk in there and give him something to come back to, then he might lose the will to keep trying,” she spoke honestly as her hand found that button to page for Rhys’ nurse for the first time. Willing to let him go to the nursery, to get his circumcision done, to do whatever needed to be done so she could get to John and give the man the only reason to fight she could think of; his wife and his sons. “If you want to stay with Rhys, I won’t judge you in the slightest, but that man needs me and I need him.” Her statement was crisp and straight from her own convictions as truer words may have never been spoken. Truly believing she and Rhys held the keys to being able to bring John through this, for she knew the strength of the bond they shared that none other were privy to. She’d never be ready to see John in the condition she knew he was in. She’d been a cop long enough to see many in that condition. It wasn’t hard for her to already imagine what it looked like. She was just about as ready as she was ever going to be, which wasn’t saying much, but his needs would come before her own emotions regardless. “You in?”

John “I know.” he stated, as it wasn’t his way of backing out of anything or saying that he wasn’t ready to see it or that he wasn’t okay with seeing it. Just a way of preparing them both as those things were more difficult than people would confess to. “He’s never gonna lose the will.” he reminded her, as the man she was dealing with was not the sort. Yet, seeing her would help. “But no, I’m coming…I don’t want to see him go to the nursery but…” glancing down towards Rhys back to sleep in the bassinet, he frowned softly. Standing up, leaning in where he was pressing his lips to the baby’s cheek. “Yeah, I’m in.”

Spence “Good,” she whispered, knowing if she got weak in the knees, she’d have to trust him in a way she’d trust John, even though it wasn’t entirely possible. She’d put her best foot forward if for no other reason but for John’s sake. A moment later, Rhys’ nurse was there in the room, offering to take him for shots as well as the inevitable to which Spencer nodded her agreement. “We’ll be in I.C.U., Johnny James’ room if anything is needed,” she offered, to which the nurse nodded. Everyone on that floor knew that which the family was going through, having offered to take the child many times during the night though each would be refused. A buzz about the nurse’s station in surprise that finally Mrs. James was allowing someone to take the baby from the room. Leaning over the bassinet, she pressed a kiss to Rhys’ forehead as she whispered something so softly none could hear before drawing back, finding a deep breath as she nodded towards Judas, letting him know she was ready to do this.

John Reaching for the wheel chair as she watched, lips tightening in his round about way of saying that they couldn’t take any chances. “So we can get there sometime this century?” he asked, again, an attempt at being playful as he popped the brakes on and guided it towards her so she could sit down. Knowing it was a bit of a walk and it would be easier for them both. Not to mention, easier to guilt them into submission with the sight of her a few hours out of childbirth.

Spence “No wheel chair,” she stated quickly, refusing to go in there any other way than on her feet, needing to feel strong, not weak. She’d been on her feet off and on throughout the night and doing just fine, so she wasn’t about to go backwards now. “I’m fine, I promise.” If something were to happen on the other end and a chair be needed, she knew it would be handled at a later time, but she’d be walking into her husband’s I.C.U. room on her own two feet. “Thank you, though,” she added, walking there to the door, pulling the handle opened for herself as she slipped through, eyeing him as though he were the one holding up progress now. “Anytime you’re ready…” she teased as he had to her a moment before, flashing him a smirk as she headed towards the elevators with or without him.

John "This is going to take forever." Quickly complaining as she wrote off the wheel chair, a groan to follow. Tucking a briefly open middle finger for her into his jean pockets but knowing she sat it as she rushed him along. Eyeing her smirk as he caught up with her at the elevators. "Look at you, fertile turtle kicked it into rabbit mode." He hummed, hitting the elevator button that brought about a swarm of anxiety for what laid within yet he was always good at hiding it. Only able to imagine what he was to walk into. Usually it was him in a hospital bed. Usually it was him attached to the tubes. Not Johnny. It was something he hoped to never see again.

Spence “Shut up,” she complained as he name called in her direction, catching sight of that finger, yet making no mention of it. Her mind was in one place and one place only and she didn’t have time for the games with him. She’d been dying to get out of the jail cell of a hospital room for far too long now and she wasn’t going to waste any more time than she had to in order to get there. As the doors opened, she was slipping inside, leaning back against the wall without a clue as to where the I.C.U. was located, forced to let Judas lead the way from here. “If you would be so kind,” she prompted as though he were an elevator attendant, eyes shifting to the buttons there within to designate which floor they’d be stopping on.

John "Yeah..." he answered dryly, hitting the appropriate button to see them from the maternity ward and down the main sect of the hospital that would lead to the I.C.U. Watching the doors close and his own personal torment begin. Leaning back against one of the walls, closing his eyes in order to combat the claustrophobic movement. Counting backwards in his head. Every weapon that therapy had given him to combat this phobia yet nearly running out as the doors opened.

Spence Her eyes set on the floor indicator, watching as it moved lower and lower until it stopped, it was only then that she’d glance over to find Judas displaying coping mechanisms. Making no mention of that which she saw, his secret was safe with her as she stepped off the elevator to find the desk before them. Before she could ask for the room, she’d spot two officers outside of a doorway, knowing instantly where her husband was. Unable to bring herself to pause for a moment, she made those steps down the hall where she’d catch that first glimpse of her husband in the bed, wires coming out of his gown left and right. It stole her breath as she waited there for Judas, not making it clear if she was waiting for him out of respect or if she had lost her ability to move forward, either way just standing, frozen for the moment as she closed her eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, reminding herself he was going to pull through this, though it was hard to stay so positive now that she saw first hand that which her father had done to the man.

John There were about a dozen different machines going off in that room. None of them harmonious. All clashing. Entering the room a moment after her, perhaps a bit better prepared considering what he had drove in on yet never prepared enough as he looked over the man. A tube in his chest regulating his breathing. The freshly stitched gashes proof of where all that blood had come from. Eyes closed. Deeply asleep as if he didn't know any different. Glancing down towards Spence, he offered his hand for support. Not rushing her.

Spence It would be at the will of Judas’ hand that she’d take that step through the doorway she had frozen within. Hating to ask this, but turning to look up at him, relying on a silent language the two did not share before she’d realize she wasn’t communicating with John, but a man who barely knew her. “Do you mind if I…” she asked, requesting a few minutes there by herself with John. Not wanting to push the man off in the slightest, but needing to have that privacy to truly be vulnerable to all she was witnessing. Already her voice was sticking to the back of her throat as she attempted just that much of her sentence, hoping Judas would understand her request without getting his feelings hurt in the process.

John "Yeah, that's fine...just..." grabbing a nearby chair, pushing it to the hospital bed. No hurt feelings. He'd have his time after. "Just do me a favor and sit." He insisted, letting her hang on that request as he glanced over towards his brother. Leaning over where he pressed his lips to the encouraging warmth of his forehead before he was pulling back. Eyes at Spence, a nod. Excusing himself and closing the door behind her to give her that time. The enclosure beeping wildly with working machinery all intended to keep him in that medically induced coma along with hydration and the proper medications awash in several IVs pumping away in his arms.

Spence Finding the chair Judas asked her to take, she’d ignore it to find her own way, as usual. Her hands resting to the back of it as she let her eyes survey the wires running in and out of the gown he wore. “You’d hate that thing,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the pressure of the words. Tugging at the back of the chair to drag it off to the side as she glanced to the doorway again, making sure no one was there to see her. Finding the coast to be clear, she stood at the side of the bed, lifting the edge of the blanket as she took careful note of every wire that ran down his side, a bite there to her lower lip as she attempted to assess the risk here. One knee to the edge of the bed, she leaned down, finding a way to lay there beside him, her hand over his against his thigh as she lightly rested her cheek against his shoulder. There were no words she could offer in that moment, finding instead pure silence as the sounds of the machines around them echoed through the room. Not feeling the need to speak as she felt her presence would be stronger than her words, letting her eyes fall closed as she laid against him, keeping her weight there to the edge of the bed and off of him, only attempting to be as close as she could without doing any harm to him. Realizing at this point, these machines may be all that was keeping him alive, now that she was there beside him, there was a good chance no one would be able to pull her from that bed where she finally felt as though she was reunited with her other half.

-May 31, 2016

#bookofjames #chaptereighteen #tildeath #jkhrist #rhyster #2016 #riv

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