#crossing that finish line to become the show's longest running romantic relationship | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawbeebo · 3 years

Text

~♡ Damned If I Do ♡~

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Fem! (She/Her) Reader

Warnings: ❌MAJOR SPOILERS!!❌ Seriously, if you aren’t caught up with the manga, don’t even finish reading this description lmaooo

Words: 5.5K

Genre: Fluff & Angst

A/N: this has shit that’s 100% me taking shit into my own hands and assuming the shibuya incident ends with things going well for those still alive and everyone returning to the Tokyo school for rehabilitation and mourning so ye ye ye. also i’m delving into completely unfamiliar territory so don’t @ me if it makes no sense LMAO

As always, if you enjoy this and want to see more of my work, PLEASE consider reblogging as it’s the best way for my works to get around and keepin’ me motivated to make more for y’all!

❌ MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD ❌

Gojō remembered the first time he met you, after all, how couldn’t he? It was actually a pretty funny situation, but if Nanami had a say in it he would heartily disagree.

It was his birthday, something Nanami had never put much thought into and actually preferred others to treat it in the same way. For the longest time, his birthday was just another day that happened to show that he had been on this hell of an earth for one year longer than the year before. It was a countdown leading to nothing when he had nothing he really wanted to live for, but when he met you, that seemed to change in a blink of the eye. Well, at least your relationship felt just like that, a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ type situation, but despite that, the handful of years he had spent with you felt like something he never could have even dreamed up happening.

You had met by chance, running into each other at the grocery store. It was nothing special, he had quite a few more items than you did so he offered up the spot ahead of him so that you could get through more quickly. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately so, the line was still fairly long so you decided to strike up a conversation with him following your list of ‘thank you’s’. You thought he was nice, a little bit on the serious side and not overly cordial, but you could tell just from that short conversation that he was the type of person you could sit with and not say a single word and still feel comfortable and content. He had a sort of calming, mature air about him and with a handsome face to match, you couldn’t help but think about how surely a man like that had someone waiting for him back home, wherever that was. Either way, before your conversation could go on for long, you had to turn your focus to checking out, so you thanked him once more for letting you pass him and simply went on your way, not thinking in the slightest that such a minor encounter with a stranger would change your life like it had. Your life continued on as normal and so did his and, for a few months at least, things went on as such until the two paths of your respective lives came together once more.

This time, it was at a small café that you later learned was near his place of work, so he frequented it often. You actually didn’t see him at first, he had intentionally chosen a table that was at one of the corners closer to the entrance so he could be away from the noise of the front counter, but the cafe was a bit packed that afternoon so it didn’t really matter in the end. You had only noticed him because you were looking for a place where you could sit and your disappointment in the fact that there didn’t seem to be any empty tables was soon replaced with intrigue in response to seeing that vaguely familiar face. It took you a moment, but his unique features allowed for your memory to be jogged quickly as you made your way over to him after putting in your order, starting with a small wave to get his attention.

To your surprise he actually remembered you, though that was for the better since it made you feel a little bit less creepy about remembering him. You introduced yourself, something you didn’t feel like you had to do last time but for some reason with this meeting, you felt it was appropriate. He returned the favor, ‘Kento Nanami’ was his name, something that at first didn’t seem to suit him well, but who were you to say? Your small talk continued and, while you didn’t actually have any intention of ‘using’ him for the empty chair that sat across from him, the topic of how busy the cafe was came up and his request for you to sit with him followed soon after. You turned him down initially, you assumed he was working since he had both his laptop and his phone laid out in front of him and you didn’t want to be an annoyance, but he politely insisted it was not bother for him, so you eventually accepted his offer.

You were only on your break after all, so you figured it wouldn’t be long and that if you drank your coffee and ate your chocolate croissant quietly, he wouldn’t regret allowing you to share the small table, though once again to your surprise, it was him who started up another conversation a few minutes after you got settled. You talked about your respective work, his disdain for his job being clear as day even as he seemed to try and justify it either to you or to himself, but you almost felt bad speaking of your boring day to day job that didn’t seem nearly as bad as his. Aside from work however, you spent a lot of time talking about good places to eat in the area as it seemed you shared a love for good food amongst a few other things. He was as nice to talk to as you had initially imagined he would be, to a point where you had to cross your fingers and hope that he didn’t notice your interest peak and your eyes flicker to his ring finger when he happened to mention living alone. To be honest, you had never really been one to put yourself out there unless the person who you found an interest in had a clear interest in you in return, but when you stood up to leave, you felt compelled to slip him your number written on a piece of notepad paper you always kept in your purse, telling him if you ever happened to be out at the same time, you’d like to meet up for coffee or something another time.

He, much like you, wasn’t particularly romantically focused, but he accepted the offer nonetheless. If anything, he wouldn’t deny it was nice to have some company that wasn’t his coworkers. You were polite and all, though for some reason, he felt a want to get to know you on more than a ‘small talk with a stranger’ level. He didn’t have much to go on, but that was all the more reason to get to know you more, and that he did. You had one more meeting over coffee, and then once again, this time at a different café you had told him about. He liked to stick to his routine, but it was cute how excited you got raving about how amazing their cherry danishes were, so he decided it couldn’t hurt. From there his feelings of ‘it couldn’t hurt to go’ slowly turned to him waiting to see you again, for once tapping his pen in annoyance not just because he wanted to get out of another pointless meeting, but because he wanted to see you. You had become a breath of fresh air in his mundane life, one that made all those late nights seem slightly less exhausting and after some time, made the idea of making money for himself come second in his thoughts. Your coffee dates turned to dinners out, then to him cooking dinner for you, then to nights spent together that ended with both of you being late for work the following mornings.

You had gotten more than ‘close’ over the span of a year or so, so much so that after many evenings of you commenting on how you could tell something was wrong, he decided that you were someone he could trust with the information regarding his former work as a sorcerer and eventually, you were a big part in convincing him to go back to it, something that, thinking back, you both regretted and welcomed as a fantastic idea. Despite the injuries you’d see him with, he seemed...lighter, as if something that had been previously bothering him had vanished with him returning to the objectively much more relentless work. Still, you could tell he was happy in his own way and as cheesy as it sounded, if he was happy, then so were you. A few months after that and you decided there was no point in living separately if you were spending almost every night over at his place anyways, so the two of you moved in together. Things were about as normal as you could possibly imagine being with someone who did what he did, but with you, a sense of normalcy was all he wanted.

Another year passed and he fully welcomed his thoughts making the change from thinking about how he was going to live out the rest of his life in a tedious manner to how he was going to live his life with you in it. Hell, even his acquaintances could tell you were more than just some woman he was seeing because if you were, they wouldn’t know about you at all. He was rather private like that, everything about his personal life was very much on a need-to-know basis that in his eyes, they didn’t need to know, especially Gojō, but unfortunately you had asked for a few contact numbers just for emergencies and Gojō happened to be one of them. It didn’t take him very long to abuse said connection though, and before Nanami knew it, he was walking into a private party room of a small restaurant the two of you frequented often, only this time he was met with an obnoxiously loud array of ‘Happy Birthday’s being shouted at him. Still, the sheepish smile you wore as Gojō explained he had been secretly planning this little surprise party with you was more than enough to make him ok with his birthday being celebrated in such an over the top way. More than that, something about the way you interacted with his coworkers and students made him...oddly happy. The way you handled Itadori’s numerous enamored questions about your relationship, being able to hear that loud, full on laugh you let out at the stupid stories Gojō told about when the two of them were in school, and all the little small talk in between as you got to know eachother. He hated to admit to thinking of them as his family, but he knew there was no other explanation as to why he felt so fortunate to see you all get along so well.

That night felt like it went on forever, though slowly the party began to thin. The students left first, they had lessons early in the morning after all, and eventually it was down to him, Gojō, and you. You shared a drink with them before tapping out early with an apology, you had pulled an all nighter the night before and the exhaustion was starting to set in, but you insisted he stay out a little bit longer and enjoy himself and after a quick kiss on the cheek goodbye and a whispered “Happy birthday, Kento.”, you were off to hopefully catch the last train home. Nanami knew what was coming next as he could see the knowing look on Gojō’s face before he even turned back to look at him, and maybe it was the alcohol, but he didn’t mind the conversation that he knew was about to follow.

It started with a simple comment.

“She seems awfully nice. Too good for you, don’t you think, ‘Nanamin’?~”

If he were being honest, he would have answered ‘yes’, but that wasn’t something he really wanted to get into. Instead he brushed him off, making a comment on how he sincerely hoped he wasn’t suggesting that somehow Gojō would be a far better option for you, to which he laughed in return. They talked quietly like that for a while, after all Gojō hadn’t gotten to hear the whole story yet and he was intrigued about how this seemingly normal woman managed to wiggle her way into the overly serious and stoic Nanami’s heart. He didn’t ask that directly though, instead he just listed off different harmless questions about what you did for work or what kinds of things you liked. It wasn’t the answer itself that necessarily mattered, but with the way Nanami spoke about you, he could tell that he was simply taken by you. For someone so blunt and pessimistic, when he spoke about you, even if his tone didn’t change, Gojō could practically see the passion he held for you in his eyes. Still, he couldn’t let his carefree reputation be tarnished so to hide his interest he would crack a few jokes and, as always, Nanami would respond with something clever. The night droned on like that until finally, in a slightly more serious tone, Gojō asked a question that Nanami had already asked himself many times over.

“So, you gonna’ marry her?”

It was a simple question with a technically simple answer, however it took much more pondering than one would think. The life he lived was a dangerous one, one that rarely made room for romance at all, let alone marriage, but somewhere along the way, you had helped him break from his repetitive schedule of a life that was meticulously planned and for once, this was something he was certain of even if the outcome itself wasn’t so. The two of you had already had this conversation, more than once actually since he was the one who needed some convincing, so it was really just a matter of ‘when’ rather than ‘if’. Still, he didn’t have to let Gojō know that.

“....I’ve thought about it.”

“Uh huh. So can I see the ring?”

He should have known there wasn’t a single thing on this planet that Gojō couldn’t pick up on. With a sigh, he reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out the small black box that he had carried with him practically every day that he wasn’t working since he had bought the damn thing and placed it on the table. Gojō snapped it up almost immediately, flipping the lid open and lowering his glasses to look at the ring properly. It was simple, something that wasn’t surprising since Nanami didn’t put much meaning into materialistic things and you didn’t seem like the type to want something too excessive anyways.

“A sorcerer’s salary sure doesn’t buy much does it.~~”

The box was snatched away from him in a matter of seconds as he continued to laugh it off as Nanami mumbled about how ‘he shouldn’t have bothered’ despite the fact he knew Gojō was just messing with him. Slowly, the topic faded and after one more drink, they were back to their own personal realities which, luckily for him, involved slipping into bed with who he was sure was the love of his life.

The morning came and went and your worlds settled back into their odd sense of a different kind of ‘mundane’, one that involved curses and demons, but was saved by the comfort and love you had for one another. However even that could only hold up your spirits for so long and with every passing day, it seemed like Nanami was always coming home with worse news, and that was with him sparing you as many of the details as he possibly could. Even with him explaining it to you, there were still things you didn’t understand, but you knew that things were escalating in the world of jujutsu sorcerers and curses. The flashes of true normalcy and happy days seemed to appear so few and far in between lately, the days where you could visit him and the students he helped out with became a thing of the past as said meetings were deemed ‘unsafe’ by the higher ups.

Then, all at once, it seemed the steady decline of the situation seemed to falter just for a moment before sinking even deeper than any of them could have possibly imagined. You knew this mission in Shibuya was different from anything leading up to it just from the way Nanami spoke to you before he left. He made a point to never treat you like a child or as if you couldn’t handle the work he did, however this time, unlike before, he made a point of telling you about the amount of sorcerers that would be there and that they already had an idea of what the curses’ plans were. He was reassuring you that this would be no different than any other mission, and that alone was enough to let you know things were much more dire, but as if that weren’t enough, he held you with a lack of his usual confidence, keeping his arms locked around you for longer than usual before pressing a sweet kiss against your lips that you wished to god you could have savored more than you did. He assured you once more, told you he would call you as soon as he possibly could, and he was gone.

You didn’t even live that close to Shibuya, but with the amount of noise and the way the ground shook that night, you felt even people halfway across the world could feel the sheer amount of power that was devastating the area. You didn’t dare turn on the news, so instead you simply waited. You kept waiting until somehow, you fell asleep. You waited through your morning coffee that you could hardly stomach, waited through the calls and texts from coworkers and friends asking if you had seen the news, you waited and waited and waited. Every call that wasn’t from him became irritating, and as the afternoon passed and the sun began to set, you felt every wave of emotion fall over you. You began to agonize as night fell, calling Gojō you don’t know how many times before eventually falling asleep, no doubt due to stress.

You woke up to a call from the principal of the school Kento worked for, someone you had never even spoken to before, asking you to come to the school the following day. That wasn’t the call you were waiting for, that wasn’t who you wanted to hear, but what else could you do? How long could you reasonably wait to hear Kento over the phone apologizing for being so late and complaining about the amount of overtime these curses were running up? All you could do was agree to be picked up by one of the few sorcerers left, who oddly enough wasn’t the usual black haired man who you had seen drop off Kento on occasion. The young woman didn’t speak much aside from confirming your name, but you were glad for that as you didn’t know what you would say. Or rather, you didn’t want to ask the question that was clawing at your skull because somewhere deep past the threads of hope you were hanging on to, you knew what the answer would be. You could feel something was wrong from the moment you woke up that morning to right this second as you walked with bated breath before being asked to sit in a small lounge room.

It wasn’t long before you heard the slide of the door and were met with the familiar young face of Itadori and lengthy figure of Gojō who, for as strong as Kento had described him as, looked particularly exhausted and lacked that usual grin he always wore.

“...We need to talk.”

Never had those words made your chest feel so tight, but as the rest of his explanation spilled past his lips, you felt emptier than you ever thought was possible.

You knew from the beginning of the end that he was gone.

You knew, yet nothing could have prepared you for the words your heard cried from young Itadori’s mouth as he practically collapsed down onto his hands and knees with his head bowed to the floor as he sobbed out a whirlpool of apologies and regrets that made your stomach turn in knots. You felt cold and painfully numb, as if you were off in a dream somewhere watching all this happen, your brain scrambling for a way to prove that none of this was real. You didn’t feel in control when you got on your knees and hugged Itadori close to you, your own tears finally beginning to spill from your eyes as reality set in and yet, you still tried to mutter through your own weeping that it was ok, it wasn’t his fault, it will be okay. It felt like an eternity that you were crumpled on that floor next to this poor boy, your thoughts completely shut down by your emotions. You had talked about this so many times, sworn up and down that no matter what happened to him, you wanted nothing more than just just be with him. Now, you couldn’t remember how you convinced him of that, because suddenly you weren’t sure how you could possibly be ok with him gone. What was next? Did you even have a single faction of your future planned that didn’t involve him? Over and over your brain went back and forth, between acceptance of this new reality and ridiculous explanations as to the ‘fact’ that somehow, they were wrong. That they missed something, that Kento hated overtime more than anything else and would be waltzing in with nothing more than a few scratches and bruises and ask you what you were doing on the floor like that. It was then that you must have either passed out or dozed off as you could have sworn you felt the phantom of his embrace and his lips pressed to your forehead.

——————————————————————————

For all the late night dramas you watched on television, you could never quite understand what people meant when they said ‘it all passed in a blur’ in regards to what followed after a loved one passed away, but now you knew with certainty that description was not far off from reality. You felt as though you did nothing but cry for days, days that were spent at the school since the mere thought of going home to an empty apartment made you feel sick. Every time you thought you couldn’t cry any longer, there was always something, an item belonging to Kento being offered up to you or a question in regards to his funeral that would send you further down the spiral that you already thought you had reached the bottom of.

The numbness began to fade, slowly, but as awful as it sounded, luckily things around you seemed to be moving just as slowly due to the sheer amount of chaos there was to be dealt with. You tried your best to pull yourself back up again and you were fortunate for the lack of pressure from the others to do so because the reality was, you didn’t know what to do, so for a while, you really didn’t do much of anything. Some days you cried for hours on end, some days you were angry, some days you just didn’t feel much of anything. Days turned to months, though now some of those days were occupied by grief counseling that seemed to help the more you got used to it. You were finally able to return home, though even after another few months of counseling, it felt hard at times with how empty it was. Still, having all of Kento’s friends and acquaintances nearby helped and you all supported one another in the ways that you could.

Eventually you found yourself able to think about Kento more fondly and less about the fact that he was gone. You slowly began working again, you were lucky to have an understanding boss who didn’t have a problem with you having days here or there where you still couldn’t quite handle a normal work day. You also took your counselors’ advice of taking care of yourself physically quite seriously, though most of that motivation came from the fact that if Kento could say something to you now, he would be more than willing to scold you for missing meals or not drinking enough water. Little things like that were working their way into your thoughts more often and you found yourself able to smile again, pushing yourself forward with the idea that Kento would give you as much time as you needed, but you knew he would still hope that you’d be able to find your old flow of life once more.

It had been a while, you still felt off in regards to being social, but you had finally decided to reach out to Gojō and ask him out for a drink. To be honest, you hadn’t been keeping up with the sorcerers as of late. At first you obsessed over it, your lover had given his life over their cause after all, but it was doing you no good and eventually Gojō genuinely convinced you that he was going to keep you up to date on everything significant and let you know what was happening. As far as you knew, they were still in a bit of a recovery period, thought that was partially because the opposition had been awfully quiet while they were left with little to no leads to follow. Still, Gojō was more than happy to hear from you about something other than updates and happily accepted your offer.

He wasn’t surprised at your choice of restaurant being that same one both you and Nanami had loved, but he still felt ill prepared to face that longing look you had as the two of you met up in front of the place. You still looked worn down, but you seemed well off enough considering the situation and the amount of time that had passed.

“He pretended to be pissed off the last time we were here together, but he was really happy that day.” You started, nursing a cup of the shared bottle of sake the two of you had ordered.

“Really? I’m sure he’d deny that with everything he had.”

“Yeah,” You said with a short laugh and a tired smile. “He probably would.”

The two of you talked a bit about nothing in particular, you could tell he was avoiding any mention of his work and the current state of things, but you didn’t mind. That wasn’t why you wanted to see him anyways, though to be honest, you didn’t know exactly why you had wanted to meet up with him. Maybe you just wanted to feel close to Kento again, a part of you dreaming of a world where the three of you were chatting over drinks, just like before. Your chatter quieted, the silence between the two of you drowned by the quiet murmur of the other customers before you finally decided to speak something that had been on your mind as of late.

“I- um…” You started, the telltale tightening of your throat creeping up on you as you gently fiddled with your cup. “...I’ve- I keep thinking...or maybe daydreaming...I think about what would have- what we would have...been.” You finished, stumbling over your words in the process as you tried to fight back against your own emotions.

You knew that thinking about all the ‘what if’s’ was probably horrible for your mental state, but sometimes, when you were really alone with your thoughts, you just couldn’t help yourself. A part of you thought that maybe if you thought about it enough, if you wished for it hard enough, your dreams would somehow come true. Even knowing that in the end that could never happen, those thoughts were always bittersweet in a way. In the end you were and always would be happy for everything you had with him, even if your time together was cut short.

“This has been a topic of debate, you know.” He spoke, tapping a finger on the table a few times as if in thought. “The consensus was ‘don’t give it to her’ but I disagree and I think Nanami would agree with me for once, so I took it anyway.”

For a moment, you weren’t sure if he had heard you correctly, or maybe he didn’t understand what you were saying? Your questions were quickly snuffed out before you could even ask them though as a small black box was placed down in front of you and your heart just about stopped. Your mouth hung open as you looked at him and he simply gestured for you to open the box. You did just that, staring at the simple ring with a single pear-cut opal set in the center, a stone you had commented on loving seemingly years ago. Your fingers felt tingly as you reached for it, your mouth finally closing once you finally held it in your hands. All at once your emotions began to overflow with the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes.

“I’m no expert, but I think you woulda’ gotten married. Obviously I would be the best man and Nanami would find some new ugly tie to wear.” He said with an air of reminiscence for something that never actually was.

“You’d probably look great, but that’s a given. Then you’d party and get drunk and finally go home so you could do some stuff that would end up with us having some good news a few months later….Ok maybe no kids but I’m sure the two of you could make a damn good night out of it.”

You were silent for a moment, and then you burst out with laughter that quickly dissolved into crying as he handed you napkin after napkin to wipe your face with. You wondered how Gojō could make everything sound so simple and make you somehow both overjoyed and saddened at the same time, but after a while, you were left smiling even though you still had tears running down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry that couldn’t come true.” He spoke in a more serious tone, a gentle smile gracing his features. “-But, who knows? Maybe it could, someday, with someone. Point is, you should know that all Nanami ever wanted was to be happy with you. Whether or not that was for a hundred years or two, he was more willing to ride that train through than he was with anything else. He knew there was a chance that being happy with you could only last so long, but he’d want you to keep living and loving the things and people that you do. That’s what he fought for, after all.”

You nodded, laughing once more through your most likely obnoxious crying. You knew there was no way you could ever get over that want to have lived a happy life forever with Kento, but you also knew it would break his heart if you were never at least able to enjoy the rest of your life alongside the grief you held. You wiped your eyes once more, your tears finally ceasing, and you slipped the ring onto your left ring finger and lifted your hand up to admire it and everything it represented.

“Would you look at that!~ Guess he really did have an eye for perfect measurements.”

You smiled and gave him a nod, unable to tear your eyes away from the ring that now sat proudly on your finger. This was where your life and your love had led you, mourning for the loss of everything you had and yearning for the things that you now knew would have been, yet you knew from him proclaiming it many times that if there was one thing Kento cherished, it was the fact that you gave him something to look forward to, a reason to truly live rather than just go through the motions. He would want you to live the rest of your life just the same, even if it was without him. You would love those you held dear, you would laugh til’ you couldn’t breathe and cry until you ran out of tears. You would eat your favorite foods, sleep in on your days off for as long as you could, and be sure your calendar was marked with little “X’s” for even the smallest of things to look forward to. You would live your life to what you felt was the fullest with him in your heart throughout all of it until maybe, someday, you could see him once more to finish your story with a long awaited “I do”.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #jjk

165 notes · View notes

jollyreginaldrancher · 5 years

Text

Subtle changes that would have saved certain shitty story arcs in Pretty Little Liars

Not gonna lie, this show isn’t great and shittiness is true to its form, and while the A reveals are -at the very least- memorable, there was a lot of crap writing in between that just ruined certain hold-over storylines that were supposed to pretty much be filler until the next big thing. Here’s some subtle changes that would have vastly improved some of those storylines.

1. Talia: Talia swooped in when Emily was extremely vulnerable after the dissolution of her longest running, and most serious relationship. She had the potential to help poor Emily but instead just left her more damaged. And honestly we have seen enough of Emily getting screwed, especially in the romantic department (not that way though) and getting kicked when she was down was the last thing she needed.

How this should’ve gone: Emily needed an Obi Wan, not an Ezra. In a brief span she lost swimming, Paige and Stanford. She was directionless and had no ambition. Talia (or maybe one of the moms. Ideally her own) should have taken her under her wing and helped her find a new passion. Through her tutelage, Emily should have finished her college arc and gotten into her dream school in California and for the first time in this goddamn show, had a relationship with a female character that didn’t eventually devolve into a romance.

2. Hanna returning to Caleb after he came back from Ravenswood. It was cringy and fanservicey and just horrible regression on Hanna’s part. She had a great guy (Travis) who didn’t deserve to just get tossed like that, and as a slap in the face, insta-replaced by her ex, who just ditched her and left town for a while and moved on with his soulmate or whatever the heck, and just aloofly enabled her rebellious streak when he came back.

What should’ve happened: Her identity crisis should’ve ended with her realizing she was regressing to the ideals Alison instilled in her in order to control her, (ie that self worth was tied to how much people wanted you and needing to have a boyfriend and be wanted in order to feel validated) and that being near her was messing with her head so she should have cut ties with her, in the interest of self care, even if it meant cutting ties with the other girls as well. and she should’ve picked Lucas and Mona over Alison and low-key sided with them in the fifth season’s MonAlison war.

3. Spoby: What should have happened with them is a slow burn romance that was cut short in the third season with the reveal that he was on the A team. Spencer is cautious and finds it extremely hard to trust people so she shouldn’t have jumped into a relationship with him so quickly, especially considering she spent half of season one accusing him of murder. There’s no way she would get so deep with him in like, half a season alone, let alone have that on and off relationship and yet act like they were together all along in season three. It was just a mess. What should have happened is a really slow burn with them not really coming together until season three, just before the betrayal, in order to make it sting that much more.

And ultimately, she should’ve been left jaded by his betrayal and not been so quick to trust him or anyone else, and take him back. She’s Spencer, for god’s sake, not Aria! As it stands, all he did was sook a bit in order to win her back. Dude should have grovelled for a chance with her and ultimately worked up a tentative friendship with her by the end of the show, by being consistently loyal. Show should have left off in an optimistic ‘maybe they will get back together, maybe not’ manner and not straight up "yeah, I know my twin raped him but we’re banging again and I think we might be back together”.

4. Ezria. Just Ezria. There is no way that should have lasted after HIS betrayal. Not even sorry. He should have followed them to NY, got shot, and while trying to help him, the girls should have found a notepad, pen, and a voice recorder on his person. Livid, Aria should have written a message telling him never to contact her again, and not to even think about writing that book on them, otherwise she’ll go to the police and accuse him of rape, and then crushed his recording device, and starting out a dark!Aria arc. Cut to Ezra reading the message in a hospital room and angrily chucking it across the room before a familiar figure approaches (A) and draws his attention.

5. There should have been more focus on mental health, especially after critical meltdown points for the characters. Instead of just “Yup, went to the doctor and I’m fine now” they should have delved deeper into these traumas. Emily KILLED a person. Spencer blacked out in the woods out of grief. Paige was clearly suicidal! Mona’s mental state is so vague and someone should have diagnosed Alison with narcissism at the very least, years ago. The dollhouse should essentially have been followed up by at least half a season where they’re desperately trying to recover but failing because they’re rushing or just not dealing with what’s wrong up there. Radley should have played a more prominent role then, and maybe some or all girls should have been moved there for their own protection from that point on.

6. Alex Drake should not have been Spencer’s twin. At the very least it should’ve been Alison’s twin. Maybe passed it off as Spencer after extensive surgery OR by utilising those damn masks that have been showing up since about season three or four for no goddamn reason.

7. Alison trying to whitewash her story and play the victim, and Sara Harvey trying to do the same should’ve sent alarm bells shooting off in Emily’s head. She honestly should not have trusted her, and especially after all the crap she pulled, she should NOT have trusted Alison. It should have been a clue that she was A all along because her having feelings for Emily was just never on the table and they did not do the groundwork to set up an Emishit endgame at all. Alison wasn’t a love interest and she wasn’t a liar and she wasn’t a relative or a friend either so the only reason to show her as much as they did was if she was A herself, so they HAD to go that way OR kill her off. That’s literally the only way to rule her out at this point because of how they handled her in general.

8. Ezra should have come back as a villain who’s mad he didn’t get to finish his story, and not stayed on as Aria’s romantic interest indefinitely. That was ridiculous. He should’ve teamed up and provided surveilance and become obsessed with Aria and the girls and finding ways to cross them and ultimately he should have been killed off in an ironic way that involves a lot of cameras or something along those lines.

9. There were too many creeps and too many cops and too many creepy cops in Rosewood and honestly Garrett was just pretty superfluous. And the whole ‘Spencer should not make assumptions and jump the gun all the time’ message they tried to send with Ian being killed off didn’t really stick because of his involvement in the NAT club so I think instead someone else should have been responsible for those tapes like Jason perhaps, or Garret, and Ian’s name should’ve been cleared when he died, because it rings differently when an innocent man dies because of a misunderstanding than when a creep does. A lot of people tried to justify it with “yeah but he kissed Spencer” and maybe if he had an excuse like that he was blackmailed or threatened by Alison then his death would have been more dramatic. Jason for example, kept showing up but being a red herring and being generally irrelevant for the most part and this would have tied him in a bit better. It could have been a revenge thing or a ‘expose the town’s evil’ thing. He was an angry, disenfranchised young man who had substance abuse issues. It’s less of a stretch honestly for him to try to do a project where he tries to name and shame people around town for looking down on him for being a stoner, especially his sister. And he had those creepy ass pictures of Aria which hint at him stalking her, which he tried to explain away as Alison’s doing. It could be that he took them as well as the video of the girls changing, because he had the hots for her and just didn’t have the guts to tell her because she was younger and his sister’s friend.

10. Nate St Germain. Killing Maya off was bad enough but hinting at it being tied to the rest of the mystery through “Maya knew” and then coping out of it was just terrible. Maya should’ve just taken the greyhound out of town after waiting for Emily, and leaving her a ‘goodbye’ note that subtly revealed she was being stalked but didn’t leave enough information to find her or her stalker, and Nate should’ve come to town pretending he’s her cousin, and looking for her BEFORE her ‘death’. In fact her death should’ve alltogether been avoided, with Emily eventually managing to get in touch with her and finding out she’s hiding in that lighthouse and bringing Paige and Nate with her to find her and bring her home, but being led there by A in a failed attempt to get her away from him in order to warn her, by pretending to be Maya and that she wants to talk to her alone. Her recklessness should’ve caused Paige to get stabbed defending her and Nate being taken out by a cop while Maya thanked her and Paige and apologised for getting them involved, and explained that her family was moving back home and she was going with them, and her and Emily cutting things off but remaining friends, while Emily realises what a champ Paige is and how low her self esteem that she would take a knife for her, and forcing her to promise to never do anything like that again. Paige and Emily should have been trying their best at being friends at this point and working overtime to deny their chemistry, and with this scene where Maya and Emily finally end things for good, should have given Emily the closure she needed and finally enabled her to be honest and open with Paige and start something new again with her.

More will probably follow.

#mine #pll #pretty little liars #ideas #changes

4 notes · View notes

lenfaz · 7 years

Text

Time Upon Once, Ch. 5 (5/?)

Summary: Killian Jones is a bailbonds man, living in Boston and doing his own thing. But on his 29th birthday, a kid knocks on his door and claims to be his son. What happens when Killian is forced to face his past along with a mystery prophecy about his own purpose in life?

Rating: M (eventually)

A huge thank you to @tnlph @businesscasualprincess and @blessed-but-distressed for beta duties and @shady-swan-jones for the banner!

I really want to dedicate this chapter to @tnlph on the upcoming occasion of the birthday. thank you Sarah, for being such a great support alway <3

Tagging a few people that showed interest in this story: @lk0622 @nowforruin @sambethe @xemmaloveskillianx @l-e-x-a-xd @profoundlyfadedprincess @once-uponacaptain @icecubelotr44 @poetic-justice-96 @allietumbles (want to be tagged? let me know and I’ll do it)

on Tumblr: I II III IV

ao3 ff.net

A/N; this is like 8.5k

Chapter V

“We need code names,” Henry announced the next morning as they were walking towards the school bus stop. Killian had spent half of the night tossing and turning in his - new and quite comfortable - bed, debating whether or not he should be antagonizing Regina so publicly by walking the lad to the bus. He knew he should lay low, set some boundaries, and try to maintain his distance.

But he didn’t want to.

It had been the entire purpose of his stay to ensure Henry’s well-being - he could now add helping Mary Margaret overcome her disappointment to that list - and Killian couldn’t do that if he was hiding out in Mary Margaret’s guest room. So he was done hiding. Regina could come looking for him if she wanted to and perhaps - perhaps- he could explain again what his purpose was.

“Isn’t ‘Cobra’ our code name?” Killian asked, confused.

“That’s the mission. I mean us. I need something to call you.” Henry’s voice was small at the end, his eyes darting insecurely to Killian and he knew the lad wasn’t talking just about the mission. He swallowed hard, clenching his jaw and fighting with himself against the urge to give Henry what he wanted so desperately. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

“How about you call me Killian for now?” The disappointment on Henry’s face almost tore him apart. How many times could a heart break and still work? Killian’s heart had broken a decade ago, but then it had remained dormant for such long time he’d almost forgotten how it felt when the pain reached inside him and made it almost impossible to breathe. Yet, in the last three days his heart had been awoken, and quickly resumed its usual task of bringing him nothing but ache at every single decision he made.

Henry nodded, his head hanging low in defeat for a brief second. But he was a brave lad, his boy - Emma’s boy- and Killian could see the kid’s walls building back up before he gave Killian a dashing smile. “Okay, then. I’ll see you later, Killian.” The last word might have been his name, but the intent in which he pronounced left nothing to his imagination. He could hear the word Henry wanted to say resonating in his mind as the lad hopped on the bus.

It was only the sirens of the patrol car what shook Killian out of his musings, as it sped past him, before turning abruptly into the mouth of the alley in front of him. It stopped there, and the sheriff stepped out, his sights set on Killian.

“Was the siren really needed? Do you feel the need to overcompensate for something, mate?” Killian asked, cocking an eyebrow at the sheriff. Perhaps he shouldn’t be pulling Graham’s leg like this, but he needed a distraction from his own mind.

“Funny, Jones.” Graham shrugged. “I just felt it was a good way to get your attention, you seemed a little lost in your own thoughts back there.”

Killian didn’t appreciate the way Graham was able to read his mood so quickly. “Are you arresting me again? Did the Mayor found another local ordinance I’m infringing? It can’t be a law against leather jackets,” he said, pointing out Graham’s attire. “Unless it’s against black ones?”

Graham chuckled and let a few moments pass. “Are you done?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow and Killian nodded. “I’m here to thank you. For your help finding that coma patient. We all owe you a debt of gratitude.”

Killian couldn’t believe his ears, but Graham’s tone was sincere. It made him uncomfortable and he simply resorted to his usual method to avoid any type of closeness to people. “What do I get? A beer at the local ratty bar and a chance to play your wingman as you try to get a date?”

“How about a job?” That clearly got Killian’s attention. “I could use a deputy.”

Bloody hell.

“I have a job, mate.”

“There isn’t much bail bonds work going on here.”

“There doesn’t seem to be much sheriffing going on either, if you can spend all this time chasing after the newcomer in town,” Killian pointed out.

“There’s work to do around here and, honestly, I could use someone like you at the station.”

“Someone like me?” Killian cocked an eyebrow at him - this was fast becoming an eyebrow-cocking contest, he noted -, not sure if he liked the implication of Graham’s words.

Graham lift his hands in a placating manner. “You’re street smart, and you think fast on your feet. Those are helpful traits to have in a deputy.” He reached for his wallet, pulled out a card and handed it over to Killian. “How about you think about it? It might be your chance to stay put for a while.” He nodded and took a step back, heading back to the driver’s seat of the patrol car.

Killian stood there, contemplating the card that he held in his fingers, a strange sensation running through him.

/-/

After leaving Henry on the bus, and for the lack of something - anything - better to do, Killian sat at Granny’s, perusing the local newspaper, a hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon in front of him. Clearly this was Small Town America ™ if the awakening of the coma patient had made the front page headline.

The doorbell jingled and he heard the distinctive click-clack of designer heels on the linoleum that could only announce the arrival of one person. “How was your walk with Henry?” Regina asked, waiting a heartbeat to give him a knowingly smile. “That’s right – I know everything. But relax. I don’t mind,” she finished almost smugly as she sat down opposite him at the table.

“You don’t?” Killian asked warily, the change in Regina’s attitude raising goosebumps on him.

“Because you no longer worry me, Mr. Jones,” she announced nonchalantly. “I did a little digging into who you are. And what I found well, let’s say it was quite soothing.”

He swallowed hard, his voice almost breaking at the words he spoke. “It was?”

“It all comes down to one simple number: Seven.”

“Seven?” Killian had an idea where this was going, but he still refused to let her see it was affecting him. He’d been masking his feelings for more than a decade, he could certainly put up a mask for the adoptive mother of his son.

“It’s the number of addresses you’ve had in the last decade. Your longest stay in a place was two years.” Regina quirked an eyebrow, as if she was rejoicing in the conversation. “Really, what did you enjoy so much about Portland, Oregon?”

It wasn’t a what. It was who I was looking for.

He clenched his jaw, feigning indifference to her words as he played with the newspaper. “I have found accommodations in town,” he said in a small voice, almost ruminating the words.

“With Miss Blanchard?” Regina gave him a condescending chuckle. “That is going to grow old quickly, don’t you think? She doesn't seem like the type to catch your attention for long.”

He wasn’t sure which one she wanted to insult more with those insinuations, if his lack of commitment to a romantic relationship- or any type of bond, for that matter - or Mary Margaret’s inability to find someone that cared for her.

“That is not what this is-” he started to defend himself, but Regina cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“You still don’t have a lease. There’s nothing tying you here.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned on the chair. “In order for something to grow, Mr. Jones, it needs roots. And you? You don’t have any. People don’t change. They only fool themselves into believing they can.”

“You don’t know me,” he said calmly, trying very hard not to let his emotions get the best of him.

“No, I think I do. All I ask is, as you carry on your transient life, you think of Henry and what’s best for him. Perhaps consider a clean break. It’s going to happen anyway.” She stood up, pleased with her words. “Enjoy your cocoa.”

“I’m here for Henry,” he said, hating the pleading tone in his voice. “Look, I’m not trying to do anything- I just want to help,” he finished, his eyes almost begging her to show some compassion.

But it seemed compassion was not on the list of Regina’s personality traits as she gave him one last look. “Sometimes I wonder… exactly how long did it take you to walk away from the mother of your child after you found out she was pregnant?”

He didn’t realize he’d punched the table with his fist until he felt the warm liquid of his cocoa splashing against his shirt. Ruby rushed to him with a cloth, but his button down was already past saving.

He sighed, his anger quickly turning to frustration with himself. “Do you have a laundry room I can use?”

After Ruby pointed him down the corridor, he wasted no time in making his way there, removing his black leather jacket and tossing it over the washing machines as he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it in in one of the available ones. He looked around for something to wear, his eyes landing on a light blue shirt hanging on a line. He hadn’t stolen clothes in twelve years, but bloody hell, old habits die hard, and it seemed today was not the day in which he was raising the bar.

It was only once he’d pulled the shirt over his shoulders that he noticed the wrecked sobs coming from somewhere behind him. He whirled around, hastily buttoning the shirt, to see a young girl sobbing in the corner while holding an armful of pink sheets.

“Are you okay, darling?” he asked politely.

“They’re pink,” she sobbed.

“Have you tried bleach?” he pointed out the obvious while trying to focus on his own things. It wasn’t like he wanted to get involved in yet another thing in this town. The girl shifted and it was then that he noticed her swollen belly. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, a sensation of dread rising in his throat.

“Oh,” he whispered.

“Last night, I felt contractions and the doctor said that the baby could come any day now,” she said.

He turned around, pouring soap and activating the washing machine, trying to battle the memories and sensations that were coming to him.

“Wonderful,” he offered in a small voice.

“It’s just that, um, when the… When the baby comes, no one thinks that I can do this. No one thinks I can do anything. Maybe they’re right,” she sounded so young and small and broken that it broke Killian’s heart in return.

He’d often wondered how Emma had felt when faced with the challenge of being pregnant at such young age, if she’d sounded like this when she decided she couldn’t do it.

He slowly turned to face the girl. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” she answered.

Killian gave her a small smile. “I was the same age. Henry’s mother - biological mother - was eighteen.”

There was surprise in the girl’s look and Killian gave her a reassuring nod. He didn’t want to relive the moments that led to his decision to consent to the adoption, the pain and regret still soaking deep within his bones; but perhaps something good would come out of all that. At least he could help someone else.

“Everyone will have an opinion, lass. They will tell you what you’re capable of and what you’re incapable of - especially if you’re with child. But ultimately, the decision is yours: whether you keep it or you decide to give it up for adoption.”

“It’s not as easy as it looks.”

“It never is,” Killian sighed, running his head through his hair. “But if you want things to change, you have change them yourself. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets --- that’s what my Papa used to say.” He gave her a final reassuring smile before he finished rolling up the sleeves of his borrowed shirt and grabbed his black leather jacket.

/-/

The rest of the day had gone by relatively uneventfully and the next morning finally brought to town the three boxes he’d asked his coworker to pack and send his way. He’d had to drive out to the nearest town to pick them up, as they didn’t have direct deliveries to Storybrooke, but nevertheless, it gave Killian a new sense of security.

He sat on the floor, his hands caressing the box that held his fondest trinkets and tokens, including his embroidered baby blanket - the one thing he had from when he’d been found as an infant.

“It feels so bloody good to have my things here,” he commented, as Mary Margaret came to stand next to him, setting a plate of snacks down on the table.

“That’s it?” she asked curiously.

“What do you mean?” Killian asked, getting a little defensive.

“Is the rest in storage, or is this really everything?”

“This is all of it,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and reaching to scratch behind his ear. He’d been so used to keep his things to minimal possessions, so used to moving from one place to the next without time or space to carry much, that it’d been something that had stuck, even at an older age. Besides, he didn’t need to carry much, nothing was meaningful enough for him not to leave behind. “I’m not sentimental,” he offered as small explanation, hoping Mary Margaret was able to read between the lines and drop it.

She did. “I guess it makes it easier when you have to move,” she provided in return, a soft and understanding smile on her lips that made Killian feel better almost immediately.

There came a knock at the door, a development which seemed to confuse Mary Margaret - it seemed she wasn’t used to visitors on the weekends - and her confusion seemed to only grow when she answered the door.

“Miss Blanchard,” a voice that Killian couldn’t recognize said. “Would Mr. Jones be at home?”

The sound of his name made Killian stand up and quickly stride to the door, coming face to face with their visitor. He remembered him from the first night he’d spent at Granny’s, the man that was there to collect the rent. Killian had learnt later that he owned a pawn shop - and half of the town apparently.

“My name is Mr. Gold,” the man introduced himself, extending his hand. Killian took it and give it a firm shake, not liking the way it made him feel, as if something dark and poisonous had entered the room.

“I remember,” he said shortly, standing by the door and waiting for the other man to explain the reason of his appearance at his doorstep - well, Mary Margaret’s doorstep.

“I have a proposition for you, Mr. Jones,” he started, a small and polite smile coming to his lips. “I - I need your help. I’m looking for someone.” There was shyness and self-deprecation in his tone, but Killian didn’t buy it. You didn’t end up owning most of the town with niceties.

“Really?” he asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest in a protective stance, his eyes darting to Mary Margaret. She looked from him to Gold for a quick minute before she spoke again.

“You know what?” Mary Margaret said, sensing the mood shifting in the room. “I’m going to - jump in the bath, or something.” She was out of the open space and hidden in the bathroom in no time, and Killian had to admire how quickly she’d been to get the bloody hell out of the situation.

“I have a photo,” Gold said as he pulled a folded picture from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. It was only then that Killian noticed the cane he had - he seemed to briefly recollect seeing it the night he met him. He opened the door wider and allowed the man to enter the loft, and his hand closing on the photograph Gold gave him. His eyebrows shot in surprise as he recognized the young girl he met yesterday in the laundry room.

“Her name is Ashley Boyd. And she’s taken something quite valuable of mine,” Gold finished.

“Why don’t you go to the police?” Killian asked, his hand tracing the photograph as he closed the door and turned to face Gold.

“Because, uh… She’s a confused young woman. She’s pregnant. Alone and scared. I don’t want to ruin this young girl’s life. But I just want my property returned.” There was something off about the man. Killian couldn’t tell for certain he was lying, but something wasn’t right.

“What is it?” he asked curiously. Whatever it was, it had made Ashley desperate enough to break into the shop whilst nine months pregnant, and clearly Gold cared enough to have her tracked down for it.

Gold looked behind him, as if he were making sure that Mary Margaret hadn’t materialized all of the sudden. “Well, one of the advantages of you not being the police is discretion. Let’s just say it’s a precious object and leave it at that.”

Oh, and the plot thickens.

“When did you see her last?” He could do this, he could get technical and professional in his questions and not get attached. It was just a potential case, after all.

“Last night. That’s how I got this.” He lifted his hair to show Killian a bruise and small cut on his forehead. “It’s so unlike her. She was quite wound up. Rambling on and on about fighting for what she wanted. I have no idea what got into her.”

Bloody hell. Amazing job, mate.

Gold looked at him expectantly, “Mr. Jones, please help me find her. My only other choice is the police, and I don’t think anyone wants to see that baby born in jail now, do they?”

Buggering hell. There goes keeping unattached, Killian thought, his mind playing scenarios for him he didn’t really want to revisit.

“No, of course not. No one should go through that if it can be avoided,” Killian said, clearing his throat.

“You’ll help me then?” Gold asked eagerly. Killian still didn’t like the man. He knew it was an act, but yet he couldn’t pinpoint what the angle was.

“I’ll help her,” he clarified, his hand still holding the photograph.

He didn’t have time to read Gold’s quirked smile before he got distracted by the door opening suddenly behind them.

“Hey, Killian. I was thinking we-”

The face on Henry when he spotted Gold was priceless. Killian would feel bad for the lad if he didn’t think this was a good lesson for him to learn. Never show up unannounced, especially when you’re sneaking in and everyone knows who your mother is. Henry still had a lot to learn, it seemed. Killian just wasn’t sure those were things he should be teaching him.

“Hey Henry, how are you?” Gold asked cheerily and Killian liked the man even less.

“Okay?”

“Good,” Gold said, as he started towards the door. “Give my regards to your mother. And, good luck, Mr. Jones.”

Killian nodded and watched the man leave, before moving on to finding a change of clothes from one of the boxes.

“Do you know who that is?” Henry asked

“Yeah, I do now,” Killian said, digging out a blue Henley and a pair of combat boots.

“Who? Cause I’m still trying to figure it out.”

Oh.

“I meant in real Storybrooke,” Killian said shrugging.

Henry noticed the boxes, his head tilting to the side. “Is that all you brought?” There was something in his voice that made Killian feel undeserving, as if he were coming up short somehow. It was a very familiar feeling that he didn’t like to revisit. Not from Henry.

“What are you doing here, lad?” he asked in a clipped tone.

“My mom’s gone til five. I thought we could hang out.”

He wanted to, he really did. But right now, there was a very confused pregnant woman for which Killian felt responsible. Not to mention, there would probably be a paycheck in it for him if he found her. And he could use the money as he wasn’t planning on living off Mary Margaret’s hospitality for free much longer. He wanted to at least contribute with his share of the rent and groceries. “I wish I could. But there’s something I have to do.”

/-/

Henry had persistently followed him outside the house and into the Bug, pleading to be part of Killian’s search. He’d refused at first, claiming it would be dangerous, but that only seemed to increase the boy’s enthusiasm. Killian felt cornered, a frustrated sigh coming to his lips when Henry pulled the one card that he knew would have him caving; a small voice claiming that he just wanted to spent time with him. He shook his head all the while he and Henry climbed into the car, wondering how he’d been bested by a ten year old. Then he turned on the ignition, and they got to work.

He decided to start with Ruby, as he’d heard she and Ashley were close. Ruby wasn’t much help - he could tell she was purposely keeping herself busy and avoiding his questioning - and only had only filled him in a little on the situation before she got sidetracked by the local mechanic delivering her car back. There had evidently been some damage to the crystal wolf she had hanging on from her rearview mirror. She seemed quite attached to the token - and the mechanic - and Killian had to clear his throat once or twice to get her attention back.

“Do you think her boyfriend might be involved in all this?” he asked blatantly.

Ruby rose an eyebrow in a dismissive manner. “Uh, let me think: that would mean he’s involved with her at all, which he isn’t. He left her in the lurch, right after they found out they were expecting. Hasn’t spoken to her since.” She stood tall and proud, a menacing expression in her features, as if she were judging him as much as she was judging Ashley's boyfriend. “I’m pretty sure that’s what you did.”

The barb hit him hard in the chest, the painful memories surfacing once again. He didn’t appreciate her tone - or her judgement - especially not in front of Henry, who still didn’t know the circumstances that led to his adoption. Henry hadn’t asked and Killian hadn’t told him, and he wasn’t planning to, not anytime soon. Some things were better left buried. Nevertheless, it wasn’t Ruby’s place to make any assumptions about him on the mere basis that she was pissed off at how her friend had been treated.

“Actually no,” he said in a clipped tone, a defiant look coming to his eyes. “Not at all.”

Ruby seemed to realize how her words had affected him and she gave him a sheepish smile. Killian took the chance to pressure for more information. “What about her family?”

“She has a stepmother and two stepsisters that don’t speak to her. There’s nothing there…” she trailed off.

“Stepmother? Stepsisters? Wait!” Henry said and Killian could spot a mile away what he was going to say next. No, the lass was not Cinderella. No bloody way.

“Not now, Henry,” he commanded before he gave Ruby another pointed look.

Ruby shuffled her feet a little, genuine care and concern in her features. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but it’s wrong. Everyone thinks she’s not ready to have this kid, but she’s trying. Taking night classes, trying to better herself… Trying to get her life together. Can you understand that?”

“Aye, I can,” Killian sighed.

“Then maybe you should leave her alone. She’s been through so much already.”

“I just want to help her, Ruby,” Killian pleaded and Ruby’s face softened.

“Then try her ex. He lives with his dad.”

Of course he does.

/-/

By the looks of the house, Sean and his family lived a comfortable life, and one more piece of the puzzle fit in Killian’s mind. He knocked on the door and waited politely. A young man answered, he couldn’t have been more than nineteen - much like Killian when Henry was conceived.

“Sean Herman?”

Sean nodded. “Who are you?”

“I’m Killian Jones,” he introduced himself. “I’m looking for Ashley? She seems to be in quite a predicament and I thought she might have come looking for you-”

“My son doesn’t have anything to do with that girl anymore,” a commanding voice spoke from the entryway to the garage and Killian turned to see a man that must have been Sean’s father coming their way. Well, that certainly explained a lot.

“You forced him to break up with her,” Killian didn’t even bother to pose it as a question, it was quite clear from where he was standing how the situation had unfolded.

“I’m not going to let my son throw away his entire life over a mistake.” The man stood next to his son, drunk on his privilege and self-righteousness. It made Killian sick to his stomach to even think what Ashley might have gone through.

“And the right choice was to leave her to fend for herself?”

“What are they going to do? Raise the child in the backseat of a car?” he asked sardonically.

I’d have gladly raised mine in the back seat of the Bug if I’d had the chance.

“Some people only have that,” he said feebly.

“And that’s a pity on them, but I’m not letting that happen to my son. I’m protecting him. It’s sad that others don’t have that, but it’s the way of the world.”

Killian wanted to punch him. It would be so easy to clench his fist and just connect with the man’s jaw, letting actions explain the frustration and rage he was feeling right now. But as mad as he was at that moment, he knew most of it had nothing to do with Sean’s father. It was the memories that this was bringing to the surface, leaving him raw.

“Dad, maybe we should help him look for Ashley. If she’s in danger-” Sean started, and a small flicker of hope lit in Killian, maybe not all was lost.

But it was soon put to an end by Sean’s father. “It’s a waste, Sean.” She’s a waste.

“Sean, if you want to come, come. Ashley runs away with this baby, she’s going to be in some serious trouble. You should fight for what you want, lad,” He pleaded, giving Sean one chance to do the right thing, his heart beating frantically in his heart. “Lad, trust me, you want to be part of this. I know I would do everything to have been able to be there for the mother of my child.”

It didn’t work. Sean’s father ordered him inside and Sean obeyed defeatedly. Once Sean was out of earshot, his father faced Killian again, showing a little concern in his demeanor. “Believe me, if I knew where she was, I would tell you. I went to a lot of trouble to get her that deal.”

“Deal? What deal?” he asked confused. No one had mentioned any deals to him.

“You don’t know? Ashley agreed to give up the child. And she’s being paid very well to do so,” he explained, giving Killian a puzzled look.

Killian’s heart dropped to pit of his stomach, leaving him almost nauseous. “She sold the baby?”

“You make it sound so crass. I found someone who’s going to find that child a good and proper home. Something it wouldn’t have otherwise.” He sounded so sure of the choices he was making that it made Killian want to punch him again.

“Who are you to judge whether she could provide that or not?”

“Look at her. She’s a teenager. She’s never shown any evidence of being responsible. How could she possibly know how to be a mother?”

“You don’t get to decide for her. Maybe all she needs is a chance to prove herself,” Killian said, holding his ground.

“That’s what everybody says and it never works out that way. It’s the way life is, Mr. Jones. You should know that better than anyone, wouldn’t you?” Sean’s father gave him a pointed look. “I found someone who’s going to pay Ashley extremely well. Someone who’s going to see to it that everybody’s happy.”

And the final piece of the puzzle finally clicked on Killian’s head. “Gold,” he all but spat the name.

“Well, isn’t that why you were hired? To bring him the baby?”

Bloody buggering hell.

/-/

The thoughts were tripping in his head as he drove hastily back to the diner, the picture forming in his mind as to what was happening. He wondered if this is how Emma had felt then, if she’d had people telling her she couldn’t do it, that she was too young, too broken to take care of a child. He wondered if him being there next to her would have made a difference. The words from her letter still haunted him.

We can’t do this, Killian. I can’t do this. He deserves better than the life we can give him. He deserves better than being raised by two screw-ups who can’t get it right. Let’s give him the chance you and I never truly had.

He’d ceded to her wishes there, holding onto the hope that she’d been right, that their son would have a better life. But as he looked at Henry, pleading for him not to double cross Gold, a ten-year old that lived in a fantasy world and ran away from his mother any chance he got, he was starting to doubt himself.

Oh, lass, perhaps we made the biggest mistake of our lives.

He barged into the diner and confronted Ruby directly, not really in the mood to sugar-coat this any longer: he was tired, this case had gotten him way over his head and he really needed a drink - or five - right now.

“Why didn’t you tell me she sold the baby?” he asked bluntly.

“Because I didn’t think it was important,” Ruby shrugged and moved to clear one of the tables in an attempt to dismiss him. But Killian followed her and held his ground.

“Really? Because it seems that’s the reason why she’s running away.”

“Look, she’s my friend. I don’t like people judging her.”

There was truth in her words, but not all of it. Killian could tell she was hiding something from him. He scanned the room, stopping short when he spotted the little crystal wolf charm resting on one of the counters. He turned to check the street and noticed that Ruby’s car had disappeared.

“Ruby,” he said, clenching his jaw to try to reign in his temper. “Where’s your car?” Ruby’s expression was all the answer he needed. “You didn’t send me to Sean to help me find her, did you? You just wanted to give her a head start,” he concluded.

“I’m trying to help her,” Ruby insisted stubbornly, and Killian felt himself at the end of his patience.

“So do I. She’s in more trouble than you think, lass and I don’t want her to deal with Gold on her own,” he pleaded.

Ruby hesitated, but her eyes quickly darted to Henry. “I won’t talk in front of him. He’s the Mayor’s son.”

“Hey! I’m on your side!” Henry protested but Killian knew he’d never get anything out of Ruby if Henry was still there. He gave a sign to Ruby to give him a moment alone with Henry and he crouched to meet the lad’s eyes.

“Lad, I need to find Ashley. And for that to happen, you need to go home. Ruby is not going to trust me with any valuable information if you’re around. Go home, please.”

Henry looked at him for a brief second and then nodded. “Okay,” he said and turned around. That had been too easy and part of Killian protested that it didn’t seem realistic for Henry to accept his command so easily - he never had before - but at the moment he had more pressing matters to attend to, and he wasn’t going to kick a gift horse in the mouth. He waited expectantly for Ruby to come back. She placed a used dish on the counter and turned to back to face him.

“She left town. Said she was going to try Boston. Thought she could disappear there.”

Boston. He could track her down in Boston. It was his city after all.

“How long ago?”

“About half an hour.”

/-/

He should have listened to his bloody instincts around Henry instead of accepting the lad’s willingness to leave. Which had only ever been a ruse, as Henry climbed out from the trunk of the Bug and demanded to know what Ruby had said. Killian wanted to kick himself over and over. The lad was his and Emma’s son, for bloody sake, of course he wouldn’t listen to any order he was given and would just do whatever in the blazes he felt like doing.

He suddenly had a new respect for his late parents and every single foster family - albeit not many - that had tried to order him around and failed.

“Henry!” he admonished. “I’m going to Boston. You can’t come with me.”

“You can’t go to Boston! She can’t leave,” Henry said agitated. “Bad things happen to anyone who does. It’s the curse.”

Bloody curse. “Lad, I don’t have time to argue with you over the curse. I have to drive you home and then I need to find Ashley before she gets in more trouble than she already is!”

“We need to reach her before she gets hurt!” Henry sounded so convinced. “If you turn back to take me home, we might not make it in time. And Gold might call the police and he’ll send her to jail.”

The thought of Ashley giving birth in jail was too much for Killian’s fragile state of mind. He’d have to deal with Regina’s rage later if she ever found out about Henry going with him. “Buckle up, lad.”

It didn’t take them long to find the car, and Killian had to fight the sense of dread when he saw it that it was crashed in a ditch by the town sign.

“Ashley!” Killian called for her as he exited the Bug and ran towards the other car. But the lass wasn’t there. “What have you done, lass?” he asked. It was then he heard the scream nearby, and he ran in the direction of the sound. He found her lying in a patch of weeds by the side of the road, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

“My baby!” she said, voice laced with pain. “It’s coming!”

Brilliant.

He managed to carefully help Ashley get back into the passenger seat of her car, ushered Henry on the backseat, before they set off for the hospital.

“Breathe, lass, we’ll be in the hospital in no time,” he tried to offer soothing words, but it only seemed to agitate Ashley even more.

“No! Please! Take me to Boston, I can’t go back there.”

“I don’t think we have the time to make it to Boston, Ashley,” he said. He didn’t have much experience in the matter, but it did seem like the baby was coming now.

“He’s going to take my baby,” Ashley sobbed in between contractions and Killian’s heart went out to her.

“I won’t let them take that baby away from you if you want it,” he said fervently, his eyes fixated on the road, trying to make up now for the mistakes of his past. “If you keep it, are you ready? If -” his voice broke and he wished Henry weren’t there to see him admit to his own shortcomings. “I know I wasn’t, and neither was Henry’s mother. If you want to give the child its best chance, you have to be ready. The baby will need someone that is ready, someone who accepts that their whole life is going to change, and that they can’t never - ever - leave. No more running. Time to grow up.” He looked back at Ashley in the rearview, waiting for his words to sink in and giving her time to ponder them.

“I’m ready,” she said finally, her tone determined. “I want my baby.”

Aye, and I’ll make sure you’ll have it.

/-/

Killian paced back and forth in the hospital waiting room, running his hand through his hair. He’d offered wondered who - if anyone - had driven Emma to the hospital. If someone had held her hand as she went through labor. Told her she was bloody brilliant and she could do anything.

If someone had been for her in all the ways he couldn’t.

“You know,” Henry’s voice took him out of his own head - he’d been doing that a lot lately - and made him stop. “You’re different.”

“I am?” he asked with confusion.

“You’re the only one who could do it,” he offered whimsically.

“Break the curse? You keep telling me that. I’m aware, lad,” Killian sighed.

Henry shook his head. “No, leave. You’re the only one that can leave Storybrooke.” He seemed so small and insecure when he pronounced the words.

Killian crouched to his eye-level and gave him a small smile. “You came to Boston looking for me, lad.”

“But I came back. I had to. I’m ten,” he pointed out. “But if anyone else tries to leave, bad things happen to them.”

There was something else hidden in there and Killian was starting to read between the lines. “Anyone but me?”

“You’re the savior, Killian. You can do anything you want,” his voice was broken with despair. “You can leave Storybrooke,” he finished shyly but Killian could hear the words he didn’t say.

You can leave me.

He was about to speak, trying to figure out how to address the fear he saw in Henry’s eyes -a fear that was so familiar to him, the one that had been with him for his entire life- when one of the doctors approached him. He quickly stood up.

“Mr. Jones, the baby is a healthy six-pound girl and the mother is doing fine,” the doctor confirmed.

The small relief he’d felt soon vanished when he saw Mr. Gold round the corner, the tap of his cane marking his approach.

“What lovely news. Excellent work, Mr. Jones,” he said in a voice that was dark and made a shiver ran down Killian’s spine. “Thank you for bringing me my merchandise.”

He couldn’t believe a baby was being referred in such terms. He should have known better, as most of his life he’d been treated as a nuisance, an object, nothing but a number, a case to address. It hurt then - it still hurt now - and he refused to treat another child like that. “A baby. Your merchandise… You should have told me.”

“You didn’t need to know at the time,” Gold replied smugly.

“Perhaps you feared I wouldn’t have taken the case?” He would have anyway, if not for Gold, just to try to help the poor girl.

“On the contrary,” the other man pointed out, circling the waiting room with his steps, the cane making a metallic sound against the floor, “I thought it would be more effective if you found out yourself. After seeing Ashley’s hard life, I thought it would make sense. Do you? I mean, if anyone could understand the reasons behind consenting to give up a baby, I assumed it would be you.”

He really didn’t want to have this conversation near Henry. He knew how fragile Henry’s state already was, their most recent conversation just now revealing a whole new layer of fears the lad held, and Killian wanted to spare the child this ordeal. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with Henry. He wasn’t ready to have it. But what was done was done and he needed to focus on what he could try to fix.

“You’re not getting your hands on that infant,” he insisted.

“We have an agreement and my agreements are always honored. If not, I’ll involve the police and that baby ends up in the system. Which would be a pity, don’t you think? You didn’t enjoy your time in the system, did you, Mr. Jones?” There was something really dark in that man, something that made Killian want to recoil, but he knew he couldn’t. If he didn’t protect Ashley and her baby now, no one would. She’d lose her baby girl. She’d lose hope. He had lost hope years ago but he’ll be damned if he let someone else lose it when he could have prevented it.

“It’s not going to happen,” he stated.

“I like your confidence. Charming,” Gold said, his eyebrow raising on the last word. “But I’ll press charges for her breaking into my shop,” he threatened with a polite smile.

Killian didn’t balk. “Probably to steal the contract, right?”

Gold shrugged, “Who knows?”

Killian tilted his head. He hated men like Gold. He really did. They were the embodiment of everything he despised growing up, of every bully that had taken advantage of someone that was in a lesser position. Of everyone that exerted their powerful position to reap another benefit they didn’t need instead of reaching out a hand to help.

“No jury in the world will put a woman in jail whose only reason for breaking and entering was to keep her child.” He spoke loud and clear, with a confidence he didn’t quite have but he needed to muster anyway. “I’m willing to roll the dice that contract doesn’t hold up. Are you?” He let the words sink in for a moment before he delivered the final blow. “Not to mention what might come out about you in the process. Somehow, I suspect, there is more to you than a simple pawnbroker. You really want to start that fight?”

He braced himself for Gold’s angry retort, but the man only gave him a condescending smile. “You’re good at this, Mr. Jones. I like it. You’re not afraid of me.”

Killian shrugged, “Why would I be?”

“That’s either cocky or presumptuous. Either way, I’d rather have you on my side,” Gold finished with a shrug of his own.

“So she can keep the baby?” Killian was quite sure it wouldn’t be that easy and Gold’s face confirmed that for him.

“Not just yet. There’s still the matter of my agreement with Miss Boyd.”

“Break the contract.”

“That’s not what I do.” Aye, there was definitely something sinister in Gold. “You see, contracts – deals – well, they’re the very foundation of all civilized existence.” Gold slowly approach Killian. “So, I put it to you now. If you want Ashley to have that baby, are you willing to make a deal with me?”

Killian clenched his jaw. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I don’t know just yet.” The man certainly had a taste for dramatics. “You’ll owe me a favor.”

Every fiber of his being rebelled against the words. He knew it was a bad idea. But he had no choice. Ashley had no other choice.

“Deal,” he said, reaching over to shake Gold’s hand.

/-/

Killian and Henry made their way into Ashley’s hospital room. She was rocking a tiny little bundle in her arms and she looked tired but happy. Killian’s heart broke again, going back to the moment he’d missed in his own life. His hand went absentmindedly to ruffle Henry’s hair, his throat suddenly dry.

“What’s her name?” he asked in a strained voice, trying to muster a smile.

“Alexandra.”

“A name fit for a princess,” Killian said, the smile coming easier to his lips as he witnessed Ashley’s smile down at her child.

“Thank you for getting me here,” she said sincerely, her eyes meeting his.

Killian shrugged dismissively, “It was nothing, lass.” He took a deep breath, tilting his head. “Gold was outside.” He noticed her eyes widening in fear and he hurried his next words. “I took care of it. She’s yours to keep - and raise.”

“She is?” she asked in disbelief and Killian nodded. “What did you do?”

“Made a deal meself. Doesn’t really matter, love. You have the chance you wanted.”

You have the chance Emma and I never got.

“Thank you,” Ashley said, emotion in her voice and the tears coming to her eyes and Killian simple swallowed. He wanted to stay, grab that little baby in his arms and pretend for a moment that the time had gone back a decade and he was welcoming his own child to the world.

But history couldn’t be changed. There was no magical pen to rewrite a different tale. He’d missed his chance. This wasn’t his chance, this wasn’t his family. This was someone else’s chance and he could only hope he’d take it.

He tugged Henry’s jacket sleeve, bringing his attention to him. “Come on, lad, we have to get you home.”

The fact that he and Henry ran into Sean coming in while leaving the hospital made Killian think that perhaps this story would have a happy ending.

/-/

It was still a few minutes before the clock struck five o'clock when Killian pulled up outside Regina’s front gate. The lad had been quiet during the drive and Killian could sense that the events of the day had gotten to him. He took a deep breath as he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out the photograph he kept there. The edges were a little faded, but it was still in good shape. He’d taken good care of it for a decade, and it was one of his most prized possessions.

“Here,” he said, handing it over to Henry. “I don’t have much from your mo- from Emma, but I have this.”

Henry took the picture, his eyes drinking in the image. “Is that her? And you?”

“Aye,” he said as he took one last look at the snapshot of him and Emma from his eighteenth birthday. Her blacked rimmed glasses hanging a little low on the bridge of her nose, her eyes looking at him with nothing but love and hope. Gods, he’d loved her so much.

He still loved her so much.

“Hook,” Killian said suddenly and Henry tore his eyes away from the picture to give him a quizzical look. “My code name can be Hook. That- that’s what your mother used to call me.” He smiled as the memories came to him, hitting him like a wave.

She’d been his everything.

He knew it had been a terrible idea to come to this side of the town. The docks has always been shady and at this hour even more. He’d wanted to come alone, but Emma had insisted on coming with him, determined to listen what August had to say.

But August had never showed up and on their way back to the Bug, a couple of men had come for them. One had grabbed Emma and the other had tried to restrain him. Killian couldn’t remember much more than that, other than the blind rage that had welled up in him at the mere idea of Emma getting hurt. His hands searched frantically for anything he could leverage against the attackers and that was when he’d felt his fingers grasp cold metal. He’d grabbed the tool and simply swung it back and forth, slicing the man’s arm. In the meantime, Emma had already broken free and was leveraging a wood plank for her defense - she was a tough lass, after all.

The men had decided to retreat and soon Killian was pulling Emma in his arms, frantically asking if she was okay. She’d nodded, sinking into his arms a little further.

It could have been hours, but it was probably a few minutes by the time they pulled apart. Her hand held his wrist and she examined the hook he was still holding in his hand.

“A hook? Really?,” she’d asked in disbelief. “What are you, a pirate?”

“It was the first thing I could grab,” he’d said sheepishly.

“It suits you,” she tilted her head and cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’d think that is what I’m calling you from now on: Hook.”

“Why did she call you that?” Henry asked eagerly.

Killian swallowed loudly, trying to find a way out of that question. He didn’t want to lie to Henry, but the truth was a little too dark for his taste. In the end, he settled for a sanitized version of the truth that wouldn’t betray the spirit of what he and Emma were.

“Some nonsensical things about us being like pirates, living by our code or something,” he said.

Henry nodded, his eyes studying the picture again before he motioned to give it back to Killian.

“Keep it,” he said. “I want you to have it.”

“Thanks,” Henry said, his hands holding the picture as if it were a treasure. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked hopefully as he exited the car.

“Aye,” Killian confirmed. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” son. He finished the sentence in his head as he witnessed Henry make his way into the house. He put the car in gear and left, driving the few blocks until he arrived outside the loft’s building. He grabbed his phone and took out the card he’d been given. His fingers fidgeted a second before he dialed the number.

“Hello?”

“Sheriff Humbert, I was wondering, is the job offer still open?”

“You can call me Graham and yes, it is.”

“Is Regina going to be okay with this?

“My department, my choice. I’ll see you Monday morning.”

“Please don’t tell me I’m on doughnut duty…” he joked and Graham chuckled. “See you on Monday, Sheriff.”

He disconnected the called and exhaled deeply.

Killian Jones, Deputy. That would be a thing to see. Emma could probably had a field day with that - if she ever knew about it.

He sighed, dragging himself towards the loft, the prospect of a night in a comfortable bed and the hope to keep the memories at bay.

But he knew the second part was only wishful thinking.

#cs ff #lenfaz fics #time upon once #captain swan #canon divergence

50 notes · View notes

doctorwhonews · 6 years

Text

Torchwood: Aliens Among Us - Part 2

Latest Review: Written By: Christopher Cooper, Mac Rogers, Janine H Jones, Tim Foley Directed By: Scott Handcock Cast: John Barrowman (Captain Jack Harkness), Alexandria Riley (Ng), Paul Clayton (Mr Colchester), Sam Béart (Orr), Jonny Green (Tyler Steele), Kai Owen (Rhys Williams), Tom Price (Sgt. Andy Davidson), Eve Myles (Gwen Cooper), Murray Melvin (Bilis Manger), Rachel Atkins (Ro-Jedda), Ramon Tikaram (Colin Colchester-Price), Ewan Bailey (Duncan), Kerry Joy Stewart (Maddy), Diveen Henry (Sandra), Ellie Heydon (Andrea), Marilyn Le Conte (Patricia), Luke Rhodri (Rowan), Charlotte O'Leary (Poppy), Sacha Dhawan (Hasan), Sarah Annis (P.C. Nicki Owen), Rick Yale (Lorry Driver), Laura Dalgleish (Newsreader), Kristy Phillips (Stacey), Aly Cruickshank (Student), Richard Elfyn (Takeaway Man), Sanee Raval (Xander) Released by Big Finish Productions - October 2017 After an eclectic opening boxset pitting its titular team of ‘secret’ agents up against sentient hotels, vengeful brides, increasingly destructive terrorist cells and an extraterrestrial gangster newly appointed as Cardiff’s mayor, what could Big Finish possibly have up its sleeve next for their self-proclaimed fifth season of Torchwood? That’s a fair question, and with Aliens Among Us – Part 2 comes the adrenaline-fuelled, alien STD-carrying answer. “Love Rat”: If James Goss’ brilliantly-named sophomore instalment of Season Five, “Aliens & Sex & Chips & Gravy”, didn’t seem enough like a quintessential Torchwood outing, then “Love Rat” more than fits the bill. From its unashamedly risqué opening moments, involving Captain Jack’s not-so-romantic run-in with an unknown courter, to its hilariously absurd consequences witnessed throughout the hour, “Love Rat” is about as adult, gag-ridden and downright ridiculous as the show’s ever been under Big Finish’s stewardship. As one would expect at this point, though, the play’s ever-delightfully energetic cast take the increasingly bonkers events depicted here in their stride, with John Barrowman naturally relishing the opportunity to transform Jack into the ultimate sexual provocateur for one hour only, while Eve Myles’ bemused Gwen and Jonny Green’s stern yet susceptible PR agent Tyler both suffer the consequences with gut-wrenchingly comedic results. Those hoping for scribe Chris Cooper to push on with Season Five’s underlying secret invasion plot arc might need to take a chill pill here, since barring a cameo or two from Rachel Atkins’ still gloriously malevolent arch-foe Ro-Jedda, there’s little in the way of narrative substance or deep thematic exploration to be found amidst all the coital antics. But even so, complaining seems churlish when, by letting its hair down for once, one of Doctor Who’s darkest offshoots to date offers up such a constantly entertaining hour as this. “A Kill to a View”: That said, anyone concerned that Torchwood’s latest run might follow the traditional US TV model – and indeed arguably Miracle Day’s approach – of marginalising any major plot arcs until its final instalment, especially as we reach its halfway point, can breathe easy as they stick on Aliens Among Us’ sixth chapter. As teased by his familiar silhouette gracing Part 2’s cover, Season One antagonist Bilis Manger has returned to wreak havoc upon the lives of the Torchwood team, his intentions no less sinister than before. Murray Melvin, true to form, once again injects this mysterious adversary with all the understated menace and enigmatic omniscience for which fans knew and loved him back in 2007. It’s thanks to his accomplished performance that as Bilis adopts the role of a kindly Caretaker at the tower block where Mr. Colchester and his partner have coincidentally moved in of late, listeners can’t help but perch themselves at the edge of their seat in nervous anticipation of the turbulent conflict and inevitable tragedies to come. Placing Colchester centre-stage doesn’t do “Kill” any harm either, affording Paul Clayton’s constantly courageous yet endearingly vulnerable – and, thanks to his rather unique work-life balance, multi-faceted – civil servant with some much-needed development, as he realises to a harrowing extent the devastating personal consequences which come with taking the deadliest career path available to Welsh job-seekers. How this compelling character arc will resolve itself by season’s end remains to be seen, but we’re just as curious to see this develop as we are to discover what ominous teases of another old foe’s arrival portend for the second half of Season Five. “Zero Hour”: And what of Ro-Jedda’s doubtless sinister machinations behind-the-scenes? Evidently unwilling to allow Aliens Among Us to lose the gratifying plot momentum gained by Episode 6, Janine H. Jones dives headfirst into this mystery via a topical tale of exploitable employees forced to work inhumane hours just to earn a living. Enter Tyler Steele, whose work at the mayor’s office – and intrigue at noticing the peculiar habits of a delivery worker – sets him on a collision course with the unsettling truths behind Cardiff’s otherwise welcome upsurge in employment rates. Just as Green’s undeniably flawed wannabe journalist served as our entryway back into the covert, casualty-laden world of Torchwood in the season premiere, “Changes Everything”, so too does “Zero Hour” offer listeners the opportunity to experience the latest weekly threat to the Welsh capital’s fragile sanctity from the perspective of a relative outsider, as Tyler soon finds himself in treacherous waters with little-to-no help available from Gwen while she tackles toddler troubles or Jack while he investigates matters further afield. Thus we’re afforded a far deeper insight into a morally complex rogue who’ll cross almost any line to survive, yet shows visible dismay at witnessing his city on the brink of societal collapse. Meanwhile Gwen’s familial woes at home highlight another ongoing character arc which could so easily get forgotten amidst all of Part 2’s other hi-jinks – namely her possession by a still ambiguous alien entity driving Mrs. and Mr. Cooper further apart by the day. No doubt tensions will come to a head in the final four episodes of Season Five due for release next February, but it’s rather frustrating how frequently such a pivotal journey for one of the show’s longest standing protagonists ends up side-lined so as to allow other plot threads to breathe. At this rate, the true feisty heroine whom Myles usually portrays to great effect might not re-surface for most of the run, a crying shame given how Aliens Among Us supposedly marks Torchwood’s triumphant full-scale comeback. “The Empty Hand”: Last but by no means least, Aliens’ second mid-season finale takes the underlying political messages seeded within the previous seven episodes and amplifies them tenfold, namely by bringing ideas such as #BlackLivesMatter and hate crime to the fore as Sergeant Andy Davidson appears to gun down an innocuous immigrant worker in cold blood. As ever in a series whose mother show straddles the line between sci-fi and fantasy, there’s far more than meets the eye in this instance, but the increasingly relevant issues at hand lend “The Empty Hand” a greater sense of moral gravitas than most Torchwood romps can muster. Writer Tim Foley admirably never trivialises his weighty subject matter, allowing his characters to discuss the implications of Andy’s actions at length and affording Tom Price’s oft-befuddled police officer a long overdue extra layer of moral nuance in the process. Thankfully, though, he’s similarly aware that such intricate discussion points can scarcely receive closure over the course of a single one-hour drama, his focus primarily on how the Torchwood team’s struggle to resolve what soon becomes a citywide crisis feeds into Ro-Jedda’s long-term game-plan, and – after a belated intervention from the eternal Time Agent – the lengths to which Jack will go to protect humanity at all costs. Any fan will attest that the latter thematic strand has often proved a narrative goldmine for the series, particularly as Children of Earth drove the man who’d bested gas-mask zombies, Daleks and the son of Satan himself to take the life of his own grandson in the process. Similar to how that fateful decision carried major ramifications for Jack’s role in Miracle Day, so too do the actions taken here by the once and future Face of Boe indicate that life at the Hub might never truly be the same again. Of course, anyone who’s finished the boxset will know a further crucial reason why Part 3 promises to potentially uproot our understanding of Torchwood’s past, presence and future, and anyone who hasn’t will need to pick Part 2 up to discover as much for themselves. Speaking of which, in case it’s not already glaringly obvious by now, Aliens Among Us is fast shaping up as one of Torchwood’s finest hours to date, making the series a must-listen for any devotees who’ve longed for the show’s return to TV. It’s safe to say that Season Five has a hell of a lot of dangling plot threads to tie up in Part 3, from Gwen and Rhys’ fractured relationship to Ro-Jedda’s endgame to that plot twist awaiting listeners at the end of “Empty Hand”, but based on the opening two-thirds of Season Five, finding out how events reach their climax will doubtless prove one of the biggest early highlights of next year. February 2018 is apparently where everything changes, and we’re certainly ready. http://reviews.doctorwhonews.net/2017/10/torchwood_aliens_among_us_part_2.html?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

#TORCHWOOD #BIG FINISH #{s{BFAliensAmongUs02}}

0 notes