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valkyrieromanoff · 7 months

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JAMES KELLY IMAGINE: The mechanic and the spoiled princess

word count: 3.8k

warnings: age gap, praise, pet names (spoiled princess, little princess, good girl), mention of sex

summary: Your car breaks down for the tenth time and James is your mechanic.

a/n: After seeing many edits of this character on tiktok, I had to write something about it. I hope you like it, maybe it's not so faithful to the character ;)

After everything that had happened to his brother, James wanted to leave everything behind and start over, far away from New Orleans. And that's what he did. He gathered up all his savings and bought a one-way ticket to Portland, where he got a job as a mechanic in a workshop in the city center. It wasn't much, but he managed to rent an apartment and live comfortably without being haunted by the ghosts of his past.

It was a Sunday afternoon when you walked into the workshop where James works, and he smiled when he saw you. After all, in the four months he'd been living in the city, you must have visited the mechanic's shop about ten times.

"Hey, you, what happened this time?" James joked, raising an eyebrow as he wiped the oil off his hands with a cloth.

"Hi, uhm, my car broke down again," you said, biting your lip nervously.

You used to show up at the garage; your parents always brought their cars in for maintenance, oil changes, or any necessary check-ups. It was a hot day; you'd chosen a flowery dress and red sneakers, your brown curls tied up in a ponytail with a ribbon, and your eyes covered by sunglasses.

James raised an eyebrow, leaned against the counter that held his tools, and crossed his arms. "Y/n, come on. It's been a month since your last visit." "What's wrong with it this time? Is it the transmission again? Or did you forget to change the oil?"

"Do I have to change the oil every month?" You asked, frowning in confusion.

He sighed and shook his head.

"No, of course not. Do you know how to check the oil in the first place?" James asked, rolling his eyes. "I know you're young, but you should know that, at least now."

"Let me guess; you don't know how to change a tire either." He joked, leaning closer.

"I, I mean, I know how to change a tire. I've just never done it, but if I need to, I know how to do it," You said, trying to believe your own words. James narrowed his eyes and looked into yours.

"Y/n, the last time your vehicle broke down it was because you ran out of oil. You literally only need to change the oil every six months in a car. And it's very necessary for the engine."

He sighed and pinched the tip of his nose. "How did you get your driver's license again?"

"The practical test doesn't require changing a tire or oil," You retorted, crossing your arms, making the neckline of your dress more obvious. "But I filled the tire once at the driving school"

James let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. He couldn't believe that someone as beautiful as you could be so carefree. He let his eyes roam over your body and smiled.

"Well, I'm not exactly complaining." He joked, winking at you. He paused and shrugged. "Well, anyway, what's wrong this time? Let me guess, you ran out of gas again?" "No, I know when I need to fill up. I'm not stupid." You snorted softly, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't know what happened; everything was fine with the car when, out of nowhere, it started making some strange noises."

James' ears perked up at these strange noises? "What kind of noises? Is it coming from the front or the back? Or is it the engine? Give me more details, and maybe I can find out." He suggested it, raising an eyebrow. "I think the noises are coming from the front." You mumbled, biting your lip. "What if I showed you the car? Wouldn't that make it easier for both of us?" He nodded, smiling, and pointed a finger at you. "I like the way you think. Show me the car, and let's see what the problem is." James replied, winking at you.

"But there is one little problem," you confessed shyly.

He raised an eyebrow, already sensing what you would say.

“What’s this little problem now?” James replied, smirking.

"Well, my car broke down at my house, so I couldn't bring it to the mechanic." You said, looking at him expectantly. "Can you help me? Please"

James sighed and let out a groan.

“Fine, fine, I’ll help you. But you know it’s gonna be at least a few hours, right? And I swear, if I have to change the oil in your car, I’m gonna choke you.” He replied, narrowing his eyes at you. He was trying to be mad, but it was obvious that you would get him to do whatever you wanted so easily. Damn that smile.

"Thanks, James; you're the best." You said, smiling excitedly.

He let out a huff and shook his head. It was obvious that he was pretending to be annoyed. He then sighed and began putting on his jacket and grabbing his keys from his pocket.

“Just come with me. I’ll drive you to your house. And try to learn how to change a damn tire while you’re there.” James replied, glaring at you. You were absolutely adorable.

"I'm sure I'll learn a lot from you." You shrugged, running to the sidewalk where James' car was parked.

You looked adorable in your sundress, red converse, and bow in your hair. Your delicate face and innocent smile remind James that she was almost half his age.

James rolled his eyes as you skipped over to his car. He thought you were absolutely beautiful. He opened the door for you and waited for you to get in. The thought of teaching a pretty girl who looked like that to be independent made his heart flutter.

After you got in the car and shut the door, James got into the front seat and drove to your house, looking at you from time to time.

"My parents are at a neurology convention or something on the other side of the state." You commented, looking out the window, your finger tracing the rain marks on the glass of the passenger window. "Can you believe they only warned me today when I called them, asking why I was home alone." You sighed, putting your head on the back of the seat.

He was a little surprised by the fact your parents left you home alone for a few days. Although you were of age, your parents always seemed so controlling and attached to you. They kind of treated you like a child, maybe because you were an only child or something.

"Oh, and I see you’re really just a little princess. Parents go on a business trip for a few days and leave little y/n here all alone. You must be helpless without them.” James teased, smirking as he looked at you from the corner of his eye.

He then focused on the road, waiting for your reaction.

"Don't be annoying; I know how to take care of myself; it's just that I would have preferred to have been warned beforehand." You retorted, your chest rising and falling as you sighed dramatically. "My parents never even let me go on school trips; it's a bit strange that they just disappear out of the blue."

James smirked and nodded, still trying to hold on to his laugh. The image of this little princess, helpless without your parents for a few days, made him want to test your limits.

“So basically, you’re saying that you haven’t had a sleepover without your parents before? Oh, that makes you even more adorable.” He teased, winking at you.

“I was always very well-behaved as a child. And well, my focus was on getting into medical school, not hidden parties." You commented, taking off your sunglasses and biting the stem. James's breathing became tense at your movement. "Not that I didn't go to parties, I just, well, it wasn't my priority. And I kind of had a boyfriend at the time."

He let out a groan and rolled his eyes, clearly in shock.

“So you’re saying you never snuck out and went to a crazy party at 14? You didn’t have those teenage rebellious years? You weren’t grounded once for dating someone your parents didn’t approve of? Wow. You truly are a princess if you’ve led a perfect life.” He replied, looking over at you.

"I'm the good girl stereotype. I was a cheerleader, class leader, and president of the UN mock. I had better grades, and I dated the football team captain." You snorted, as if your adolescence was a long time ago, although it's only two years ago. "And well, now I'm in medical school to follow the family tradition."

James let out a low whistle, impressed by how flawless you were in every aspect. You literally were his dream girl. You were beautiful, had good grades, had a good sense of humor, and came from a successful family. You had to have some kind of flaw.

“So what’s the flaw? You can’t possibly be perfect. That would be too good to be true.” James asked, smirking. And yes, he was flirting with you. He didn't even try to hide.

"I guess I just wanted to reach adulthood. And now I realize it sucks." You muttered, looking down at your own hands resting in your lap.

James smirked, surprised to hear you curse.

“What’s wrong, princess? Can’t be a little more vulgar than that? It fits you more." James teased, smirking as he looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"My parents forbade me from swearing; I think it's still a little weird to swear out loud. It sounds wrong.” You confessed, your cheeks blushing at your honesty.

He thought it was adorable how innocent you were. It was like he was the one who corrupted you.

“Wow, so swearing is taboo in your family? I assume they don’t let you drink as well then..?” He teased again, winking at you.

"I'm 19 years old, James. You know that it's only after the age of 21 that you can legally drink here in the US." You reminded him, raising an eyebrow.

He pretended to be shocked and widened his eyes in response.

“So you mean to tell me that the spoiled little princess never snuck out and tried a sip of alcohol with her friends?” James teased, smirking at you.

He focused on the road again, waiting for your response.

"Well, I never drank. Or I went to parties in secret; in fact, my last party must have been school dances." You confessed, twirling a curl around your finger.

“You mean to tell me that you actually did have a high school love life? Damn girl, you really didn't sneak out and not tell your parents anything. You really are a good girl.” He teased, smirking. He couldn’t help but notice that his heart was beating faster the more that he teased you and made you admit to innocent things.

"Wait, what about your high school boyfriend? Did you have to hide him from your parents?"

"It was actually my parents who introduced me to him, he was the son of one of my father's colleagues." You explained, tilting your head to look at him. "We met at a Christmas party that my parents' hospital hosts every year."

“So this boyfriend of yours was perfect, huh? I assume he was on the high school football team too, right?” He teased, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Yes, he was the team captain." You sighed, raising your eyebrow in amusement. "Am I that predictable?"

“Of course, you are precious. I’m starting to think you were probably a goody-two-shoes in high school. Not a single rule was broken. Not a single bad word was spoken. No sleepovers. No kissing the captain. Not even sneaking out to be with him.” James teased, making it very clear he was teasing.

“You were a perfect angel, weren’t you?” He smirked, leaning slightly toward you.

"We did more than just kiss, if you want to know." You retorted, your cheeks turning red at your own words.

He let out a small laugh at your words, his smile wide on his face.

“So you aren’t always innocent after all. Are you more into the ‘bad guys’ then? I thought you were the princess who only dated the captain of the team.” He teased, smirking as he waited for your response.

"Well, I only had one boyfriend," You confessed, biting your lip. "I can't say I have a lot of experience"

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by her confession. “Wait so you’ve only been with that one boyfriend? You haven't even had a few no-strings-attached snogs? You’re saying you were a good girl all this time?” He teased, nudging you. James looked out the window as he drove, waiting for your response.

"Well, I dated George since freshman year" You commented, looking at your legs, playing with the hem of your summer dress. “So, I had a boyfriend, I wasn't going to get involved with other people"

He let out a groan and sighed, not even bothering to hide his smile anymore. You were just so innocent and cute.

“So tell me, what happened with George? Did you two break up or what? Or did you finally muster the ability to break out of your good girl routine?” He teased as he looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"I am studying medicine at Harvard, while George went to Yale to study law. So, we ended up breaking up because long-distance relationships don't work." You explained, the hem of your dress had ridden up due to the tightening of your belt. You tried to pull it down gently.

James' eyes fell on your legs, lingering longer than he should have.

“How tragic! So the spoiled princess couldn’t stand not being with her football captain boyfriend, so she broke up with him. I’m sure you must have been absolutely heartbroken.” James teased, smirking yet again. He took a small turn and focused on the road, waiting for your reaction.

"Actually, it was a bit of a relief. I don't know if I really liked George or just the idea of him. My parents wanted us to be together, and I think I just accepted that." You confessed, grabbing a gloss from your handbag to apply to your soft pink lips.

“So you’re telling me that you were so desperate for your parents’ approval that you never even thought about what you wanted? That you were willing to settle down with a college football star just because your parents wanted you to? That is such good girl behavior.” James teased, smirking at you. He noticed the application of the lip gloss and was fixated only on your lips for a good minute or so.

"You know, we were going to get married when we finished school. Now this seems so stupid, but my parents thought it was a great idea." You commented, giggling at the memory.

James rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Of course, the only child of very rich parents goes on to marry a college football star. Oh, I wonder if your parents will be satisfied with a surgeon as your husband. Or will you marry into a political family next?” He teased, looking at you with a grin. He couldn’t help but notice your full lips and the way the lip gloss made them look even more appetizing.

"I don't even know if I want to get married. My focus right now is on graduating from medicine and getting a good job."You murmured, moving your lips together to spread the lip gloss. Before you parted your lips to check the application.

The sight of your lips and you applying the gloss was distracting him more than it should have, especially since he was driving. He tried to focus on the road, but the more his eyes wandered to your lips, the more his heart beat faster.

He cleared his throat, bringing his eyes back to the road. He looked a little flustered as his cheeks became a soft red.

“Wow, so are you saying that the princess actually has motives and aspirations other than being daddy's girl?” James teased.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his speech.

He let out an exaggerated groan, but he was still teasing.

“I swear, you’re giving me more surprises than a box of cereal. The little princess actually has aspirations of being a doctor. Wow, I never would have thought.” He teased again, looking at you again from the corner of his eye. James couldn’t help but focus on how his tone and tease seemed to have affected you, turning your cheeks a light red. He had never met anyone so innocent. It was intoxicating.

"And what are your ambitions, James? Do you intend to be a mechanic all your life?" You asked genuinely curious.

He let out a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“Me? Oh, I don’t have ambition like you, princess. I’m working my butt off on this shitty job because I couldn't afford college, and some shits happened in between.” James mocked, looking over at you, although there was some truth in his words.

He raised an eyebrow, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“So what? Do you think I’m a loser?” He asked, waiting for your response. "For not having a fancy degree?"

You curled your lips at the amount of swear words in his sentence.

"No, I think your profession is very worthy." You stated gently. "Who would fix my car for the tenth time in a month if they didn't have you?" You retorted with a playful tone.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming in mischief as he heard your response.

“I guess it works out then, I have a princess constantly breaking her car down for me to fix. And the best part is, she’s too innocent to know how to do it herself so she has to keep coming back.” James teased, looking at you.

He felt a rush of blood going where it shouldn’t but he ignored it, refocusing on the road. What was wrong with him?

You smiled softly, looking away from the window. The journey was peaceful until you arrived at your huge and fancy house.

James pulled his car into the driveway of your house, turning off the engine. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself, when he saw the expensive-looking house. He then realized the way his heart was racing in his chest and how sweaty his palms had gotten. James shook his head, trying to clear his head, and looked at you.

“This is your house, huh? So this is where the spoiled princess calls home, huh?” He teased, smirking. His heart kept beating faster.

You rolled your eyes, opening the gate with the controller.

"Welcome to my humble home, James." You spoke, your lips curling into a mischievous smile.

He rolled his eyes again, pretending to be offended.

“Humble? Don’t you mean the Y/S manor? How modest of you to call it humble, but it does kind of remind me of a dollhouse. I wonder if this is where you play princess dress up. You even must have a pink porch!” James teased, winking at you.

"I would even invite you to my room to find out, but I think you'll be busy with the car." You retorted, with a mix of innocence and malice in your smile.

James raised an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his lips. You were going a little back and forth between being innocent and sassy. He liked it a lot. The fact that you were being playful and giving him a reaction just made him want to test his luck even more.

He stepped closer and widened his body, forcing you to lean slightly against the desk in the garage that was next to you. He stood closer than was necessary, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him.

James cleared his throat. “Oh, really?”

You parted your pink lips, your tongue sliding between them nervously. Your chest was rising and falling as your breathing became harder due to your proximity.

"Why don't you find out?" You teased him, raising your eyes to look at James.

He thought he saw a hint of lust in your eyes, and that gave him the courage to pull closer to you, his eyes becoming even more fiery. James was getting the feeling that he would be able to play with you, and you would just keep reacting the way he wanted you to.

He smirked and spoke in a low voice: “Oh, you’re challenging me, princess?”

"Only if you're willing to play." You retorted, biting your lip as you held your breath in anticipation.

James smirked, noticing you were getting impatient with him.

“Oh princess, I thought all those years as a princess you would have learned to be a little bit more patient." He teased, moving his thumb to the corner of his mouth. “Oh, and you bet I’m gonna play with my delicious little princess." He replied maliciously, winking at you.

James crashed his lips against yours, his hands squeezing your hips and pulling you closer. You closed your eyes when your lips touched. The way James' mouth moved against yours in a soft and possessive way made you gasp.

He parted his lips and deepened the kiss. One hand moved up to your waist while the other one held the back of your neck firmly. James kept you pressed against his body, feeling your warmth against him. His heart was beating even faster than before. His mind and his body were screaming for more—a lot more. His hands now trailed lower on your hips.

James felt his heart skip a beat and his chest rise. His mind was a little dizzy from your touch. He couldn’t think clearly at that moment; he could only feel you. His hands were now on your thighs and sliding up to your hips.

James was kissing your neck, biting it softly. He was getting so lost in the way your body felt under his lips and hands and in the taste of your sweet mouth. He was holding you tightly, biting down on your bottom lip, moving his hand under your sundress, kissing your neck and your ear, and whispering to you dirty words that made your cheeks blush.

James was touching the sensitive spots that were under your dress. He was getting out of his mind completely. His hands were moving quickly and passionately all over your body, touching and teasingly caressing parts that he wasn't supposed to.

But who could blame him? How could James resist the little princess, who had a crush on the mechanic?

#james kelly #james kelly x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #james kelly imagine #american aheist

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sailor-aviator · 8 months

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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Five

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, Mean girl Mandy, Flirting, Alcohol, Siren call, Supernatural elements, Kind of suggestive/smutty but not really? idk

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: Alright, alright! The ball is starting to roll! We've got a lot going on now, I think. Can't wait to hear y'all's thoughts! Also, shoutout to @goldenseresinretriever for letting me bounce ideas off of her! You the real MVP!! If you're feeling kind/generous, please consider buying me a ko-fi! Also, if you DO NOT fill out the form below (Tag List) then you will not be tagged! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

“I thought the bonfires happened the other night?” You asked Bob as the two of you made your way down the practically deserted streets. It was late, and the only people out were the young adults still looking to have a good time. The family friendly activities had ended hours ago, and now it was time for the partying to start.

“They were supposed to,” he said, eyes scanning the dimly lit street, “but they got postponed because of all the rain the other week. This was the only night that worked for most everyone around town.”

“That works out for us, I guess,” you hummed, hearing the sound of crashing waves grow closer as you neared the beach.

“Hey, thing one and thing two!”

The two of you turned around to see a grinning Bradley jogging up behind you, and you turned with a smile to greet him.

“Hey, Bradley!” You chirped. “We thought you’d already be down at the beach with everyone else.”

“I was, but I forgot my phone at the house,” he said, waving his phone in his hand. “So I ran back to grab it. Everyone else should already be down there, though.”

“We better get a move on before all the drinks are gone,” Bob mused, already moving once again. Bradley fell into step alongside you, bumping your shoulder with his.

“Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, Skipper,” he joked, casting a smirk down at you. “You been avoiding me?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you giggled.

Bradley scoffed, giving you an offended look that was made less serious by the grin on his face. “Me? Avoid you? Don’t be ridiculous. Who in their right mind would avoid a sweet, little thing like you?”

“You must not really know her then,” Bob snorted. “She practically cut my hand off when I went for the last fry at lunch today.”

“That was entirely your fault,” you huffed, sticking your tongue out at him. “You know how much I love french fries.”

“Yeah, enough to cause grievous bodily injuries, apparently,” he smirked. You scowled at him before looking back at Bradley who was also smirking at you.

“He’s being dramatic,” you offered with a shrug.

“Barely.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” you griped as the three of you walked down the stairs and onto the beach. You could see the glow from the various fires flicker in the night, groups of different people huddled around each one. “I have to set an alarm every morning to wake up before he does if I want any bacon.”

“Oh, trust me,” Bradley laughed, steering you towards a fire on the edge of the grouping, Bob in tow. “I grew up with him. I know how much bacon he puts away.”

“I am not that bad,” Bob huffed, earning identical dubious looks from both you and Bradley. You giggled when Bradley quirked his eyebrow at you.

“Sure you aren’t, Bob,” you laughed, earning a scowl from your best friend.

“You made it!”

The three of you turned to see Nat waving at you, the rest of the squad already settled in on the towels surrounding the small fire. You felt a shiver run up your spine as you made eye contact with a pair of mossy green ones. You looked away as your cheeks warmed, letting Bradley guide you across the fire and down on a group of towels, Bob on your other side.

“So,” said the brunette sitting next to Jake, blue eyes calculating as she took you in. She was just as beautiful as the last time you saw her. Tan skin glowed in the light from the fire, body lithe and athletic. She looked like she walked off the cover of a fashion magazine, and her narrowed gaze was trained on you, lips curled into waht appeared to be a permanent sneer. “You must be the tagalong I’ve heard so much about. Skipper was it?”

You shifted uncomfortably, glancing over at Bradley as he stiffened next to you, a glare fixed on his face as he looked at her.

“Yeah,” you said, offering an anxious smile as you looked back at her. “That’s what they call me anyway.”

“It’s cute,” she said, tone indicating that she most certainly did not find it cute. “I’m Mandy. You’ve probably heard of me from the others.”

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m not surprised,” she continued with a smirk. “I’ve known everyone here since we were in diapers. We go way back, you know. Don’t feel bad if you end up feeling left out in our conversations, okay?”

You shifted again, this time knocking your knee into your bag. The shells you carried with you jostled, clinking together, and you blushed when everyone looked at you.

“What was that?” Mickey asked, peering over to get a better look. You lifted your bag as you began to pull each shell out and placing it carefully on the towel.

“Oh, these are the shells and things I’ve been finding everywhere!” You smiled, running your fingers over the conch. “Aren’t they amazing? I’ve never seen so many beautiful shells in my life! And they’re all perfectly in tact, can you believe it? It’s like someone just plucked them up off the ocean floor and set them out for me to find!”

“That’s quite a collection,” Nat chuckled, shooting a smirk off to the side. You followed her line of sight, and your eyes made direct contact with the mossy green ones from earlier. Jake looked at you with an expression that could only be described as awe as he took you in, eyes peering down to where you cradled the conch gently in your hands before looking back up at you. His eyes shone in the firelight, a hint of a smile on his lips as he looked at you. You felt another blush creep up your neck, and you leaned forward to place the conch closer to the fire for everyone to see. You heard a sharp intake of breath, and you looked up to see Mandy with a look of rage and shock on her face as she stared at you. You realized quickly she wasn’t staring at your face, but rather down at the base of your neck. Her eyes darted up to meet yours and her expression shifted quickly into one of cold contempt.

“You actually carry those around with you?” She sneered, scoffing out a laugh. “What are you? Five?”

You frowned up at her, suddenly feeling self conscious as you glanced around the group. Their smiles had shifted into looks of irritation as they glared at the brunette.

“Oh, I just-”

“I mean,” she sniffed, cutting you off, “I suppose it’s fitting for someone who looks like you though, right? You’re not exactly dressed to impress or anything.”

You looked down at your clothes, a frown on your face. You weren’t normally self conscious. Sure, you didn’t look like a model like Mandy, but you didn’t think you were hard on the eyes. You had dressed for comfort though, and it was plain to see in your jean shorts, tank top, and white button up. Mandy wore a pair of cutoffs and a tight fitting tank top that showed off her figure, and her makeup was immaculate. You hadn’t seen the point in putting any on. Should you have?

“Mandy,” Bob growled, glaring in a warning.

“Oh, I know she’s your friend and all, Bobby,” Mandy continued, a viscious smirk poised on her lips. “But let’s be honest. I mean, we’re among friends, right? And friends should be honest with each other. You’d be lucky if anyone gave you the time of day looking like that. Nevermind the silly, little shells you’re carrying around everywhere. You really should have left those back at the house, you know. And tell me you brought something nice to where for the ocean dance festival. Can you imagine if you wore some frumpy shorts to something like tha-”

“Shut up.”

All eyes turned to Jake who was glaring into the fire, eyes cold as the water that lapped the shore behind you. Mandy narrowed her eyes at him, rage clouding her features.

“Excuse me?” She spat, turning to face him. His gaze shifted to her, jaw clenching.

“Was I not clear enough?” He said evenly. “I said ‘shut up.’”

You hadn’t even realized that tears had gathered in your eyes until Bob laid a gentle hand on your shoudler causing you to jump. You looked over at him, sniffling as he gave you a concerned look. You wiped at the corner of your eyes, scrambling to your feet. You felt everyone’s eyes on you as you shifted from one foot to the other, avoiding their gazes.

“I’m, uh,” you gulped, trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “I’m gonna go get something to drink.”

“I’ll come with you,” Bradley said, moving to his feet and giving you a gentle smile. “I’m parched.”

You turned to Bob with a watery smile. “You want anything?”

He studied you for a second, eyes uncertain. You gave him a look that you hoped communicated your need to pretend like you were okay, and he pressed his lips together.

“Just a beer.”

“You got it!” You smiled, trying and failing to add your usual cheeriness to the statement. You gave a half smile that you were sure came off as more of a grimace as you made your way towards the line of coolers on the other side of the fires. Bradley followed you silently, and you kept your head down, feeling the tears start to stream down your cheeks.

You knew you were being silly. They were just words after all, and you were a grown woman. You shouldn’t be letting silly words get to you like this. But why did they hurt so bad? You knelt by one of the coolers, fishing out two beers and a coke. You handed one of the beers to Bradley, refusing to make eye contact with him as you pushed the lid to the cooler closed.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing onto your arm gently, pulling you so that you faced him.

You kept your head down, and Bradley let out a sigh.

“Listen,” he started, hesitating as if he were choosing his next words carefully. “You shouldn’t listen to Mandy, okay? She’s a stone cold bitch on the best of days, and, well, she’s never been told ‘no’ a day in her life. She’s always gotten what she wanted, when she wanted it.”

“What’s your point?” You muttered, glancing off to the side as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Bradley let out another sigh, taking his hand from your arm to run it through his hair.

“My point is that she’s taking her new experience with the word out on you, and it’s not fair. I know it’s hard, but just ignore her, okay? She’s just jealous.”

“Of me?” You scoffed, finally meeting his gaze. Bradley smirked down at you, casting you a wink.

“You’re pretty great, Skipper,” he hummed. “Anyone with eyes can see it. Now, come on. Let’s head back to the others, yeah?”

You nodded, and the two of you made your way back to the fire. As you approached, you noted that Jake was the only one still there, eyes trained on the flames in front of him, seemingly deep in thought. He jumped when Bradley plopped down next to him, leaving just enough room for you to slide in between them.

“Where’d the others go?” Bradley asked, twisting the top off his beer and taking a swig from the bottle. Jake grimaced, gesturing around towards the other fires.

“Take your pick.”

Bradley hummed, leaning back on the towel with his legs outstretched towards the fire. The three of you were silent for a moment, and you felt a tingling sensation on your left side. You turned to find Jake already looking at you, eyes soft as they took you in. Your breath caught in your throat, cheeks flushing. You thought you should have been been creeped out with how intensely he was staring at you, but you felt oddly comfortable under his gaze. In fact, you found yourelf sitting up a little straighter, almost preening under his gaze, and a small smile tugged on Jake’s lips as he took you in, eyes blazing as they reached your neck.

You jumped as Bradley suddenly leaned over in front of you, breaking the spell you found yourself under. A shit eating grin was etched onto his face as he looked at Jake.

“Did you know Skipper here always wanted to be a mermaid?”

You felt yourself begin to splutter as your cheeks warmed for a different reason, eyes growing wide as you peered between the two men. Bradley waggled his eyebrows as Jake’s own shot up on his forehead. A smirk graced his lips, giving him a devilish look to his already handsome features. He looked at you, smirk intensifying as he saw your flustered state. He leaned forward, smirk growing into a grin as you glanced away.

“Is that so?” He hummed, warm breath ghosting over your face.

“I will remind you that I was, like, five at the time,” you snapped, glaring at Bradley. He only chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he smirked lazily up at you.

“I think you’d make a cute mermaid, don’t you agree, Jake?”

Jake nodded with another hum, eyes taking on a look you couldn’t place, but it made you squirm nonetheless.

“Just imagine her swimming around with all her little fishy sidekicks,” Bradley teased, eyes alight with mischief. You scoffed, turning to face him.

“As if,” you snarked, “my sidekick wouldn’t be a fish, it would be a stingray.”

Jake quirked an eyebrow. “Why a stingray?”

“Oh,” you blushed, your nerves kicking up again. “Because they’re my favorite.”

Jake nodded slowly, like he was trying to commit that fact to memory. Bradley snorted beside you, and the two of you looked over at where he was smirking, eyes peeking at Jake before looking back at you.

“How could I forget?” He drawled, taking another sip of his beer. “I met Rusty when you and I were snuggled in bed the other morning.”

“That’s not-”

You were cut off by a growl to your left. You turned to see Jake’s entire expression had changed. His jaw was clenched, eyes trained on Bradley as if he wanted to take his head off. His fists were clenched so tight, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was drawing blood from where his fingernails dug into his palms. He was almost too still as he glared at Bradley, the other man looking smug as he took in his friend’s appearance.

“Are you okay?” You asked the blond, and his eyes glanced over at you, gaze seeming to soften as he took in your concern.

“Bradshaw!” Reuben called from across the way. “Get your ass over here!”

Bradley heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet. “And that’s my cue,” he muttered.

You watched as he strutted over to where Reuben and Mickey were gathered with a group of people you didn’t know, leaving you alone with Jake.

“He’s such an ass sometimes,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Isn’t he one of your best friends?” You asked him with a giggle. Jake’s demeanor seemed to relax at the sound.

“Unfortunately,” he grumbled, casting another glare over at where Bradley stood chatting and laughing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You frowned, noticing how tense he still seemed to be. He looked back at you, hesitating before letting out a sigh.

“Yeah, I guess I’m just feeling a little overheated or something,” he muttered, flexing his hands as he uncurled his fists. He moved to stand, and you followed suit.

“Think I’m going to go take a walk to cool off,” he mused, rolling his shoulders back. You frowned, rubbing a hand over your arm.

“Oh, okay,” you said, glancing at the ground, shifting your feet in the sand that covered the towel. Jake seemed to hesitate once more, chewing his bottom lip.

“Do you want to join me?” He asked you, his green eyes hopeful as you met his gaze. You felt a smile tug on your lips as you nodded.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you murmured, moving to grab your bag. You stopped when you noticed it was placed neatly on top of the towel you had been sitting on previously, shells already back inside.

“I, uh,” Jake stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want anything to happen to them, so I put them back in your bag. I guess I should have asked first instead of just moving them. I’m sorry if I-”

“No,” you smiled, “it’s okay. Thank you.”

Jake gave you a nervous, tight lipped smile before nodding. “You can leave your bag here if you want. No one is going to take it.”

You returned his nod, gesturing for him to lead the way down the beach.

The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, the ocean waves crashing off to your right, and the cool, night breeze ruffling your hair.

“Listen,” Jake started, stopping to turn to you, eyes earnest as they took you in. “I’m sorry about Mandy-”

“Oh, no, Jake,” you frowned, shaking your head. “You don’t have to apologize for her.”

“No, but I do,” he stated firmly, face serious as he looked at you. “It’s my fault she’s taking it out on you. She’s been so convinced that she and I are going to end up together, and now that she knows that’s not the case, she’s on the warpath.”

“Jake,” you sighed, “I understand feeling some kind of weird responsibility for her, but her actions are her own. You shouldn’t have to apologize on her behalf. She’s a big girl just like I am, right? We’re adults who are capable of making our own decisions and apologizing for the wrong we do. None of this is your fault.”

He didn’t look convinced, and you took his hand in yours to offer him some kind of reassurance. A bolt of electricity ran through you, causing you to let out a gasp, and a warmth rushed over you, causing you to squirm. You felt like a magnet, drawn to Jake in a way that you couldn’t even begin to understand. You wanted to feel more of him, to consume and be consumed by him. You had never felt anything like it in your life, and you looked up at him hazy eyes to find that he wasn’t any better off.

His own eyes had a haze to them, seeming to glow in the moonlight. His breathing came out labored, almost like he was fighting to maintain his composure. His eyes raked over you, a hand coming up to rest on your cheek, and you nuzzled into it without thinking.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper as he inched closer to you.

“You’re just saying that,” you muttered, leaning into him.

“No,” he stated firmly, causing you to jump just a hair. His other hand came up to rest on your hip, pulling you closer so that you were practically molded against him.

“No,” he said again, gentler this time. “I mean it. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

If it were possible, you were sure your skin would have heated up even more than it already was. As it stood, a pleasant warmth spread through you at his proximity, and the hand that was cradling your cheek slowly drifted down until it brushed the mark on your neck. You let out a wanton cry at the shock of pleasure that jolted through you at the simple touch, and Jake smirked down at you, stroking softly over the mark again and again as he drew more pleasured cries from you.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, leaning his forehead against yours, nuzzling his nose against the tip of yours. “I’ve got you.”

You couldn’t find it in you to feel embarrassed at the intense amount of pleasure you felt at the simplest of touches, too focused on the way his hands felt on you. You raised your own, one hand cradling his cheek as the other ran through his golden hair. He let out a groan as you tugged gently on the soft strands, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that spread across your face. Jake’s eyes met yours, the green of them so intense that it took your breath away. He glanced down at your lips, slowly leaning in-

“Jacob Seresin!”

You gasped, grasping at your ears at the almost inhuman shriek that pierced the night air. Jake pulled back, placing you almost protectively behind him. You peered around him to see Mandy glaring at him, blue eyes practically glowing with rage. Her gaze turned to you, and you shrank back slightly, hiding behind Jake a little more. This only served to make Mandy even more irate, and she snarled as she stomped closer to the two of you.

Jake bristled, standing taller as he continued to block you from Mandy’s warpath.

“How dare you,” she spat at him, lips pulled back into a sneer. “You’re mine.”

“No,” Jake growled, “I’m not.”

You shifted behind him, moving out from behind him slowly, and the pair turned to look at you. You gave them a sheepish smile, as you inched around Mandy, hands up in a form of surrender.

“I’m just going to head back so you two can talk in private,” you murmured. Jake looked like he wanted to argue, but Mandy’s glare had you moving before he could say anything.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you walked back towards the bonfires, already missing Jake’s touch. You had never felt anything so intense in your entire life, and you wondered what had come over you to make you act so brazenly. You weren’t one for hookups, but you weren’t even sure that’s what that was going to be. He had held you so gently, like you might break or run away at any moment. You had been so ready to give him every part of you in that moment. You knew you should have been worried at that thought, but a large part of you thought that it felt right, that you should give yourself to him. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself wanting to turn around and go back to him.

You were about halfway back down the beach when it started. It was quiet at first, distant. But then it grew louder, and you found yourself slowing to a stop, turning towards the crashing waves to your left.

The song was beautiful, melancholic. It was unlike the one you had heard before, this one sounding more animal like than human, but you still found yourself drawn to it. It called to you, begging you to listen, and you did, feeling the sound drift through your mind and pulling you in. You weren’t sure when you started walking, but you felt the sand shift beneath your feet as you slowly made your way towards the water. The fires faded from your sight, the churning waves beckoning to you like gentle hands that promised refuge. The song grew louder, all consuming, blocking everything else out but the need to answer. You felt the wind whip your hair around you, the cold sting kissing your cheeks as the crashing waves grew louder, the song more desperate. The sand beneath your feet grew cold as you ventured into a spot where the water met the shoreline. You’re almost there, the song called to you. You felt a relieved smile tug on your lips at the thought of finally reaching your goal and answering the song. You felt the water come just up to your toes before retreating back. You closed your eyes in anticipation. Just one more step.

You let out a cry as you were yanked away from the water, a strong hand on your upper arm. Your arms reached for the water, your mind still foggy as a loud, keening cry sounded from the water before disappearing entirely. You whirled around to see Javy staring at you with an intense worry, Nat just behind him, worry clear on her face.

“Wha-” you mumbled, pressing a hand to the side of your head as it began to pound. “What happened? Javy?”

“Hey, Skipper,” he murmured gently, pulling you closer, away from the water. “We’ve been calling you for a while now. You okay?”

“I…” you trailed off, glancing between him and the water. “I’m not sure.”

“How about we get you some water, yeah?” Nat suggested, wrapping her arms around you as she led you back to the bonfires. You nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” you muttered, glancing back at the ocean. “Yeah, okay.”

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rise-my-angel · 2 years

Text

Past Retribution

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 17.7k

Warnings: Violence, angst with happy ending, smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, keeping secrets

Notes: I don't know what happened with the length im so sorry. Can be read as a sequel to Confused Warmth and Distracted Mistakes, but also can be read as a standalone. Follow up Haunted Anguish.

It all felt somehow so familiar, despite how many years it had been. The stinging pain radiating through your body as the world around you seemed to spin ever so slightly. The humid air gave way to a cold you know didn’t really exist, a coldness in your bones that contrasted with the warmth around the worst of the pain. The putrid, almost moldy smell of decay mixed uncomfortably with the smell of blood.

Blood seemed to be everywhere, his all over your face, and yours pouring from your body as you sat in the puddle it was creating. The heavy smell of blood was overwhelming, so much so you could almost taste that rusted stench it gave off. Your head was leaned back against the concrete behind you, your back propped up against it as you looked at the body right in front of you. It’s unmoving silence almost worse now that it was dead, because now you could see it so clearly.

The cracked skin mixed with whatever grew all over their bodies, the colours of their skin turned along with it as what was left of the human shape disappeared. The scariest of the infection, their mutated heads twisted into nothing but a vessel for the cordyceps to spread further. If you could focus on anything but the cold dizzy world around you, maybe you could still feel it’s teeth sinking in.

Maybe you should have felt more scared. Seeing time and time again what this infection turns you into, and how much quicker it works on you if it enters from your bloodstream. But right now, your bloodstream was currently dripping out onto the floor, so it didn’t matter. If you didn’t stop the bleeding you’d be dead regardless. Just last night everything was so different, so normal. This strange feeling of family you had found with Joel and Ellie fading away the more your vision faded. Maybe you’d be more scared if your last memory of them wasn’t so comforting.

In that memory, you weren’t leaning up against a wall bleeding out. No, it was Joel's warm, protective chest that you felt behind you. His large hands held firmly against your hips as you both stood in the evening air looking out into nothing. His deep voice rumbling in your ear with stories about his own youth, “I’m not kidding, it’s almost pathetic thinking about how attractive I thought I must have been to girls. My long ass arms with zero muscle, and there I was trying to show off in a tank top like I was actually cool.”

You laughed, and you could feel the vibration in your body as Joel chuckled alongside you. “Anything would have impressed me at that point. I don’t even think I knew what a boy was yet, spent way too much time with my head in the clouds.”

Joel moved one hand from your hip to slide around your stomach, gently tugging you back into him just a tad more tightly. “So you’re basically saying nothing’s changed.” He felt your eye roll even without seeing it, laughing once more as you huffed.

“Laugh all you want, but I’m willing to bet you were the type of kid who thought pulling hair or bumping into in you in the hall was how you were supposed to show a girl you liked her.” A tiny yelp left you as Joel tugged at a strand of your hair without a seconds hesitation. His lips pressed into the top of your head no doubt in the form of a smirk.

“Yeah go ahead and tell me you don’t like when I do that.” He had the audacity to tug again, so you playfully nudged your elbow into his stomach behind you, pursing your lips to hide your own smile threatening to slip through.

“I hate you so much.” Your breathy laugh finally broke through.

Joel leaned in to catch your cheek with his lips, brushing over the skin as he mocked. “Definitely what you were saying this morning,” your elbow pushed him a little harder this time, an oof from his mouth coming out as you laughed and slipped free of his grasp. Turning to lean against the wooden railing.

You could hear Ellie somewhere in the distance approaching the house, and the sight in front of you, Joel rubbing his hand over his stomach, warm brown eyes watching you gently. He had gotten used to you being here, spending more time and more nights at his house. Living out this quiet little life out you all had wanted, but spending more of it together. It had been so long since either of you felt anything like this, that it almost seemed strange to you both. Out of place to feel like you had a house and a family to come home too at the end of the day.

You tried not to think about the word family. Still worried that you were intruding too much on Joel’s life with Ellie. As if your very presence got in the way of their growing bond as father and daughter, neither had said as much, but it felt that way to you. The feeling coming up once more as Joel’s attention shifted to the girl bounding up to the front of the house. “I don’t understand how she still has so much energy this late.” Ellie’s voice sounding exasperated and tired.

Joel raised an eyebrow playfully as his arms crossed in front of him. “If you actually went to bed before the sun comes up when you know you gotta get up early, you’d have that energy too.” Ellie rolled her eyes playfully, disappearing inside with a “Yeah, yeah.” Joel gently shoving at her back with barley a touch as she passed him.

That was the real family. Not you playing the imposter in their quiet lives. At least you wouldn’t be that way for long, not anymore. That false hope of normalcy shattered just days before at the mere sight of an old face wandering into town. The second they saw you, it was only a matter of time and just earlier today your fears were confirmed. A threat found it’s way to you, with clear instructions attached. It was either your safety, or Joels, that was the choice given to you. You weren’t going to put his life in jeopardy for something he couldn’t possibly know about.

His warm hand cupped your cheek as your face was pulled to look into his, brows furrowed as he looked at you with concern. “Hey,” his face leaned in to brush his nose against yours. “Don’t go disappearing on me, again.” This wasn’t the first time Joel caught your mind wandering off in the past week.

It tugged painfully at your heart, but you couldn’t show it. He’d stop you. He’d convince you otherwise, and you know you’d let him if he tried. His gentle embrace and quiet whispers too enticing to resist and he knew it. So you smiled, put a hand on the wrist holding you, while the other found the back of his neck. “Never.”

Pulling him the remaining distance into a kiss, his hands finding new homes on your body the more it deepened. Just as Joel teased your lips to let him in, he pulled back and moved the kiss to your forehead. The hand that found your lower back moving you to follow inside. “C’mon, it’s getting late.”

Promised him what you wouldn’t keep, and you didn’t even give him the mercy of not tricking him into thinking he would still wake up beside you tomorrow.

The night was normal on the surface. Indulging in Ellie wanting to spend increasing amounts of time with you, feeling Joel’s consistent need to have his touch find it’s way back to you. All covered in the dread of losing this, the weight of wondering if you ever even deserved it. You knew one way or the other what was about to happen to you, and as you were pressed against the wall right before Joel’s bedroom door, his mouth against your neck, thigh pressed up between your legs, your mind wandered back to if you deserved to let what happened years ago just happen then and there.

Not to tease you with this loving warmth in the same addicting way Joel’s hands teased you thumbs stroking the skin above the top of your pants. Your own hands searching blindly for the buttons on his shirt, barley letting them all come undone before you greedily traced the skin of his chest. Tracing your fingers down before brushing past his nipples and pushing your palms up against them grasping at the surrounding skin.

Joel pulled away from your neck with a hiss, his mouth brushing against your smug one as he bites against your bottom lip. “Now you’ve done it.” Pulling you inside, door closing behind him, he recaptures your lips as he positions you in the middle of his room. Shredding off the red flannel, it dropped onto the ground where he stood before he moved to tilt your head up with both hands on your jaw, one thumb tracing over your lips. “Always teasing me, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Wanting to undress him more, Joel didn’t let you. Pulling your shirt up and over your head, your bra following shortly after. His dark eyes raked slowly down from your face to your chest, his hands sliding against the sides of your chest, and down to undo your pants. Kissing you as he does so, a softer one but no less commanding. Your own lips tried to follow as he pulled away, but Joel knelt down instead, yanking your pants and underwear down in one rough pull and tossing them to the side. “Always trying to rile me up.” He kisses the skin of your stomach, pushing your hands back to your sides when you reached for his hair.

Holding your thighs for leverage, Joel sunk lower pressing his lips to your mound, “This sweet pussy always begging me to take care of it, the needy fucking thing it is.” His name leaving your mouth with a gasp as he licks right from your clit down to your entrance, wasting little time as his tongue works it’s way inside you pulling moan and whine after whine. His hands moving once again to hold yours against your sides before sliding down to rub at your clit.

You couldn’t tell if it was him or you that kept pushing your legs further and further open for him, but his mouth pulled you closer and closer to the edge. Pulling away as his other hand took his place and teased inside of you, a string of spit still connected before snapping as he looked up to your head thrown back. Your fingers clenched at your sides, his thick fingers refusing to fill you. “What do you need, sweet girl?”

His voice gruff as needy, listening to you whine out, “You. Just you,”

Standing with a grumble vibrating in his chest, Joel slipped his two teasing fingers right inside your tight pussy slick with your own arousal they slid right in with ease. His mouth bite and kissed into yours as you gasped what seemed like the start of his name, thumb rubbing your clit as his other hand was free to grasp at your body turning you to the bed.

He didn’t lay you out, instead he sat you on the edge separating from you entirely, the only touch left was his now slick covered fingers shamelessly tilting the bottom of your chin up. “You need me?” All you could do was nod, and if Joel wasn’t so worked up he may have smiled. “Come on then, you can take all of me.”

Tracing his jean belt but not undoing it. No, he was making you do it. Part of you wanted to look up into his eyes as you tugged his cock out, but you refused to look way from it. Thick and threatening to start leaking from the tip, you pulled his jeans down just enough so you could hold onto his skin.

Joel gripped his cock, even his large hand giving away how girthy it was, he teased his cock pressing and stroking lightly against your lips. “Open up, sweetheart. There we go- fuck, that’s it.” His cock siding into your mouth you had no choice in what you took. Joel fed you as much cock as he knew you could take and held himself there. Not moving, not asking or begging for you to suck him, just keeping his cock tucked away inside your mouth letting the spit accumulate until it threatened to drool out.

Your own hands siding up to his hips and squeezing the softer plushness, Joel tsked at you condescendingly. “No? You still need more?” The nod of your head shocking Joel enough to grip the back of your hair suddenly, he met your eyes, hints of watering the longer he tested how deep you could hold him for so long. “Greedy little thing,” Your fingers dug into his skin just as he pulled your head slowly off of him. “I’ve got you, I’ll take care of you.”

He raked your hair lovingly once as he pulled you off just to his tip, groaning at your tongue brushing him, soaking it with the saliva built up in copium. Finally he pushed on your head again. Sliding your head back and forth against his cock for you. Sometimes he’d let you suck him at your own pace, other times his patience wore out and he fucked into your mouth in desperation. But this was utterly purposeful.

Pushing and pulling you along his cock sucking and soaking him, not moving a bit but still controlling every move of your head. As if you were doing the work, but at his total command. But it would never last long, you begun to moan with every swipe of your tongue against him and Joel’s hips slowly matched the pace he pulled you onto him with a thrust. Your moan turned to a muffled whine, and he hissed out throwing his head back, mumbling nonsense, just terms of endearment in the form of needy rambling.

It was almost too much, he filled your mouth so much that his cock felt everywhere inside of you. You let him use your mouth, eyes sliding shut as your cunt pulsed with need. One hand wrapping around his thigh for leverage, the other slid behind to grasp at his ass with your fingertips. Joel stuttered a whine out and his grip on you tightened almost painfully. “That’s my girl, that’s it, letting me fill your tiny little throat.”

He wasn’t even looking at you, you couldn’t even see, the tears building up as all you could feel was the pressure of his cock thrusting deeper and deeper into your mouth. His teeth gritted as his pelvis tensed up in need, “Gonna swallow me, sweet girl? Drink up everything I fill in your mouth?”

Your own hold on him pulled him closer, forcing his cock even deeper, almost too deep. Joel gasped out at the sudden move and his thrusts became so shallow, refusing to give up your warm wet mouth. He stuttered out your name between moans, readjusting his grip onto your hair as his voice just barley cracked out, “Fuck, baby-” before his orgasm hit him. His cum spilling into you as he held your head tight against his hips, feeling the coarse hair there on your own skin as he fills your mouth up with his seed. Needy groans gasping out as you tightened your throat around him with every try at a swallow.

Letting you milk his cock as much as he could give you, Joel finally pulled out of you. Only able to get a single breathe in before he leaned down to kiss you, finally moving you onto the bed properly. Joel laid his head against the pillows, his legs spread wide as he helped you on top of him, his cock still half hard between your legs.

For a while he refused to let you go, your hands all over the others body as he kept kissing you like a man possessed with desire. You were more than happy to keep his lips occupied, but Joel ignored his once again hardening cock to stop himself. Hoping the love he poured into your mouth would be enough to keep it contained. Reasoning with himself not to admit it during sex, not now. You might not believe he means it if he only tells you when you’re naked on top of him, remnants of his cum still painted on your lips as he mixes it with whats left of your own on his.

You could feel his cock teasing you between your legs, the more you two moved against each other the more you felt it swipe along your entrance or press up against your ass as Joel grabbed at you roughly. His hair curling the more he sweat. Luscious curls you raked your fingers through as he leaned up suddenly, holding you propped up against his knees as his mouth worked your breasts. Groping as much of a handful as he could get, biting at one nipple and teasing the other with his had before swapping.

You could read him like a clock, it happened every time you sucked his cock. Feeling your mouth around him only would make him more desperate to sink it into your cunt, and while he lets his cock recover he works himself up more. Losing himself in your body, and by the time he’s ready to fuck you his energy and need is peaking once more.

His mouth lets go of your nipple and grips the back of your neck, looking up at your wide eyes before tilting you down to watch him. Gripping his cock as he runs it along you, sometimes pushing enough that his tip prods inside before he pulls it back. His gentle kiss is a stark contrast to his rough hold, but so are his eyes. “Ask me,”

Your hands falling to his neck, you whine as his tip prods your entrance once again. “Please,” It was barley a whisper but he heard it.

Not enough though. His nose nudges yours, “C’mon. Ask me properly, sweetheart.” Another thing he did often, his touch and fuck was rough but he spoke soft and prompting. Getting you to talk to him, check in and make sure his roughness hasn’t made you drop too far down. His lips press against you again as he whispers your name.

Holding his neck and another on his shoulder you leaned your forehead against his. “Please fuck me, Joel?” There was the smile. Joel pulled your lips back and fall backward onto the bed spread once more, your body following as he finally pushes inside you.

Moans covering the sounds up at first, Joel rumbles to himself about how good you feel. Slow thrusts as his cock drags along your walls, you can hear how wet you are and how soaked you’ve made him as it almost squelches when he thrusts back in. The slow pace keeps as Joel tucks his face into your neck, taking a deep breathe as if needing to ground himself before looking back up to your hovering face. “Feel so fucking good, don’t you?”

It was embarrassing how loud the sound of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy was, but your nodding prompted him further as he started to pick the speed up more and more. “You always need me to fill your pussy up so badly.” Harder he thrusted as he moved to let you sit up more on top of him, giving you more room to meet his cock back. “Such a good girl, letting me take you over and over.”

You shake your head yes fervently, the sweat on your skin heating you up the faster you fucked, your hands holding him tightly. Joel shifted his angle ever so slightly and hit that sweet spot pulling a gasp from you, watching your head tilt back, your tits flaunting his vision as you did so. Over and over he worked that spot inside of you, addicted to the moans and needy sounds it granted him. Your eyes squeezed shut too overwhelmed to even realize as you bounced back against his cock. Missing the bright loving look Joel watched you with as he fucked you.

“God, Joel. Your cock-” Almost unable to speak you were so overwhelmed by the coiling burn inside you, winding you up the more of his length you took. “It’s so, you’re- fuck,” Big you wanted to say. How ridiculously thick his cock was, and how small your cunt felt in comparison, it was all you could really think about anymore. Whimpering out all you could, “S-so thick, you feel so fucking good,”

Now leaning back down, needing to be closer, even just so you could feel his breathe on the skin of your cheek. One of Joel’s hands moved to grasp at your ass, holding onto a cheek and pushing you deep so your cunt took as much of his cock as it could take, you calling his name out so loud his only option was to let you moan into his mouth.

Shallow thrusts, Joel picked up the pace, taking the work over and fucking up into you faster and faster. The slap of his skin against yours echoed through the room, the loud smacking that he needed. Quick fucks would never truly be enough for Joel, he needed to hear your skin slapping together as he sinks his cock deep. “Open up, baby.” Joel muttered against your lips, his tongue tracing yours and in and out as you kissed, much like the in and out of your pussy. Gripping your ass so tight you knew his hand would be marked if not bruised into it.

It never took much to bruise for you, and Joel never let that go to waste, keeping reminders of his love on your body at all times even just for him to see. Adoring that you craved his marks as much as he craved leaving them.

Your neck stung in tandem with the burning hot pleasure between your legs, your hips angled perfectly so your clit brushed against the hair framing his cock, leaving a sting almost like the one his scruff and his moustache left on your neck. You could feel his cock throbbing, and you clenched tightly around him making him moan your name out. Nudging his nose at your cheek, “Gonna let me cum all over this beautiful ass, sweet girl?” He smiled as you nodded, his hand not quite slapping it, but definitely giving the cheek he held a smack loud enough to ring in your ears as he re affirms his grip, causing the walls of your cunt to hold him even tighter.

Joels own moans growing higher and higher in pitch, need whining from his breaths as he thrusted short but pounding fast. The jostle of your body against his rubbing your clit enough to catch your breathe. “Please, please...” Kissing him you finally wound up enough and let go.

Soaking his cock ever more, Joels jaw clenched as he finally reached his own. Your orgasm tensing every limb and the pleasure flowing through your veins, you cried as he pulled out of you. Gripping his cock up against the middle of your ass as he came. Painting it with his cum, his hand moved you back and forth slightly to let his cock rub between the cheeks as he spurted the last of his seed. Muttering into your lips “I’ve got you,” over and over.

You didn’t move, his hands finally rubbed against your back and hip while yours caressed his chest and waist. His heavy cock softening finally, resting on your cum painted ass as you both came down.

Not realizing it, but both of you deeply lost in thought as you held each other in your arms, nuzzling the other gently. Joel holding it back, telling himself not to say it. Not to blurt it out, not to rush it. He occupied his lips, on your own, on your neck, on the top of your head. Anything to keep him from scaring you off before you were ready.

You on the other hand, focused on the feeling of his body. How large he was, yet his skin soft and even plush at times made to fit you perfectly. How warm he was and how much you depended on it during cold nights. You had to remember, because you’d lose it no matter what.

This man right here, was what was at stake. Either you were selfish and refused to give in, and he would rip Joel away from you, away from Ellie. Or you left and let him and Ellie live their quiet lives in peace without your burden. It was better this way.

You drifted in and out of sleep that night. Each time you woke, you and Joel turned into a new position, never quite letting the other go. Just until the sun just pokes it’s head out. You stayed in his embrace until then, slowly untangling yourself not to wake him.

You sat for a moment at the edge of the bed, looking at his handsome face, peacefully asleep. Maybe that peace would be good enough to hold onto. As you quietly packed a bag, you felt the guilt of not saying anything. Not telling them what had happened, where and why you were leaving, it made you feel like a coward.

Too stuck onto the fear of what others had done to get to someone like you, and too afraid of how these two people you care so deeply about would feel. Shame you for not handing your own life over for the possibility of saving others? Would Joel and Ellie treat you that way, or was this just your own guilt trying to cope with running away in the early hours of the morning with no goodbye.

You paused at the door, fingers holding onto the frame tight as your eyes shut tightly. Don’t look back at him, all it would make you do is want to climb back into bed. Heart beating faster, you shut the door quietly and looked towards Ellie’s closed bedroom door. More guilt. You couldn’t linger in their house, it was surrounding you with temptation and it was just too much.

Finding your way onto the steps outside, the crisp morning air felt refreshing compared to the stuffy overwhelming inside. The sun finally starting to shine light onto Jackson, illuminating the empty streets. Bracing your hands on the railing, all you could do was stare down at the wood. You and Joel wrapped up in this very spot last night as if you were two normal people, but it was also the same spot you stood when he approached you and ruined everything about this small life you tried to find here.

Willing yourself too look from the wood, you only got as far as your arm. Pulling the red sleeve up, you laid our forearm out on the banister, the normally hidden underneath facing up. Eyes baring down on the scarred tissue in a mocking tone. You could still see the metal pressed up against it, the burning heat forced down as you bit down on something to keep your cries of pain muffled. The healed scarring now covering what you didn’t want anyone to know about, but it seemed it didn’t matter. No one here questioned it, but that days events still found their way back to you.

Movement in the far distance caught your eye, head shooting up as the sleeve fell back down your arm. Squinting too see through the sun shining on her directly, you saw blonde hair attached to a pretty figure. Maria.

Always up early as hell, always trying to get ahead of the mountains of work she took on, but also not the woman you wanted to speak too. She was friendly, good at making people feel comfortable but the guilt eating away at your insides wanted nothing to do with comfort. You knew she could see the bag at your feet and would say something if she suspected something was wrong. So you took a deep breathe through your nose, picked up the bag and slung it over one shoulder as you approached her.

Getting away from the one place you felt welcome in. You stood a good few feet away from her, shifting one foot to the other in awkwardness that she hopefully read as your natural disposition to not be chatty. “You’re up early, not sure I’ve ever seen you awake at this time before.”

Nodding, you looked briefly away from her face before turning back with an indifferent shrug. “Didn’t sleep well, figured I’d just make myself useful.”

“Would you like some help-”

You answered too fast. “No.” Back peddle, don’t be defensive towards Maria she’ll probe your further. “No, I’m good, not much for company this early.” Maria just nodded silently looking you over with an intention you didn’t quite catch. “Nothing personal.”

It was her time to act indifferent. “Didn’t take it that way.” There was a stark silence between you as your heart once again picked up the pace. “Well, I won’t keep you.” You nodded back and pivoted to start leaving when she called your name. “Remind Joel about coming over for dinner tomorrow would you?“.

Trying to will away the memory of his touch your hand gripping the straps of your bag tightened enough to sting. “Yeah, don’t worry I will.”

Maria squinted at you in what seemed to be distrust, if you weren’t too cowardly to look her in the eye, maybe you’d have caught her almost inaudible muttering much akin to “I bet you will.” Instead she waited a beat before changing tones. “You just know what he’s like when he gets wrapped up in something else. Still forgets to just stop and enjoy himself, he and Tommy both honestly.”

You forced a weak chuckle out, “Right.” Trying to hold a vague semblance of a smile, Maria just waved you off.

“Talk to you later, okay?”

Maybe you answered her with an “Okay” or a “Bye” but you weren’t sure. You just turned and walked away from her. Years alone never exactly did wonders to help your ability to lie, walking away was what you were better at.

Beams of the suns light waved in your face as you walked down the empty streets, giving you just a hint of warmth in the colder air. The quiet was deafening now, months living here coaxing you to adjust to the constant sound of people making your retreat more tense. You had travelled here at a glimpse of hope to find a place to rest, and it did just that. But you didn’t plan to get attached, to find people you felt this strongly for, to think you were starting to relearn what a family felt like.

Jackson was only ever supposed to be there for you to catch your breathe. You had predicted leaving not long after, but with the intention of going about your regular solitary life. Not leaving behind these people to hate you for abandoning them, and certainly not to travel and face a man unwilling to give up your past together, a past that changed your own life.

But also, a past neither you or him, had ever expected you to survive.

You didn’t know he was was in Wyoming. Hadn’t even thought about him in a long time. Not since a someone had previously mentioned to you that he was apparently with the Fireflies now somewhere in Salt Lake City. That was fine with you, that was one city you wanted to avoid, and Don was one of many people you never wanted to see again.

Parts of him were easily distinguishable, though. That’s why one day while you were sitting along Joel’s porch you heard his voice with no question. You were leaned against a banister on the top step, one foot bent on the pain porch, the other perched on the lower step to more easily lay out the rusting shotgun you were attempting to salvage. Off in the distance, you heard that high pitched nasally voice, croaking out that obnoxiously loud laugh of his.

Your head shooting up in almost shock, looking at the origin of the sound. Two men walking passed not too far to make out their faces you saw him. Whatever he had been doing in Utah was not kind to him. His hairline was as far back as his ears, and he was clearly favouring his left arm, holding it tight against his side as if it wasn’t moving along with the rest of his body.

Gripping the barrel, your knuckles turned white as you could hear your heart beating in your head. The other man he was with, a guy you occasionally worked with that you could call a friend. Well, if you made more of an attempt at being social then he might be considered a friend. But he knew you well enough to call your name happily as they spotted you. Not walking over, but loud and waving somewhat embarrassingly peppy.

It felt as it your arm was made of led, your muscles straining to lift up enough to give a half wave with a few fingers, your smile as strained and tight lipped as your insides felt. Don though, said nothing, and did nothing.

He stood in spot, body turned to face the house and looking right at you with the stillness of a statue. The beating of your heart sped up more and more, leaving you feeling sick. You could see that angry squint even from this far away, features no doubt frowning in discontempt as he put the pieces together. He was as much in shock as you were, but yours was terror.

He had left you there to die. Trapped you so conclusively that he didn’t even feel the need to stay and make sure, the way he left you? Every single other person would have died that day, you at the time assumed the same.

For a moment all he did was stare, and you back. Finally that nasally voice spat out towards you, “Howdy, always nice to meet a fresh face.”

That son of a bitch, the exact thing he said when he first met you years ago. You watched as Don looked slowly around the property you were on, back at the street he just came from until he landed back at you, this time a smug grin plastered across his face. So you just gave him the same treatment.

“Likewise.”

His grin grew. You both knew now what was inevitable. He finally turned to catch up, as you slowly stood up. The gun gripped tight in both hands as you raised, watching Don stroll casually down the street as if he didn’t just learn an earth shattering secret in one single glance. You watched and watched until he was too far away to even see anymore, but even still you didn’t look away.

Were you just staring into nothing, or was your mind trapped in the memory of the sounds of screaming, the slam of the metal door and the persistent horrible clicking and snapping of the figure in front of you.

Nothing was a solid stream of consciousness, more like flashes that came and went out of order, foggy images as if half of your sight was blacked out, and the booming noises that rung in your ears for days after. You hadn’t in anyway seen or heard Joel approaching.

It wasn’t until his hand physically turned your body to face him that your mind snapped back to the quiet present, the deep comfort of Joel’s voice calling your name. “You’ve been standing here like this for 5 minutes.” Your gaze snapped to his eyes finally, hands relaxing somewhat and lowering down as the strain in the muscles let loose. “Hey,” his hand on your waist moved to lightly cup your cheek. “Talk to me.”

Your fingers stretched and flexed out, fiddling with the shotgun before placing the broken machine unceremoniously on the ground. “Just zoned out, I guess.”

Joel’s gaze would mirror the same one Maria would give you a week later as you snuck out of town. A hesitant concern sweeping the depths. “If something’s wrong-”

You barley looked at him as you fidgeted around, leaving his warmth entirely. “Nothing, I’m fine.” You turned away and back, mouth trying to form an excuse. “Just gotta, stop by my house,” gesturing behind you, “Running out of clothes, you know?”

It wasn’t quite a smirk, but a tinge of playfulness sneaking across his features. “I think these suit you just fine.” Nodding down to the unbuttoned shirt that absolutely was not yours. He took a step closer with a playful but softer look you were getting far too used to. “Or you could just do what I talked about. Just bringing your stuff over here.”

Your heart had yet to stop pounding and everything was suffocating and heavy, filling your lungs like smoke. You needed to leave, and finally you were upset enough to just brush him off rudely. “I know, I just- I’ll be back later.” And you took off, your head too loud to hear Joel saying your name to come back.

Tunnel vision filled your eyesight as you threw the door to your small, cramped house and slammed it shut so hard that the wall shook. Scrambling into your bedroom your breathing was bordering on hyperventilating, sweat forming on your skin the more your blood flew through your veins. Yanking a small chest from under the bed, you fumbled with the simple lock keeping it sealed.

The only moment of salvation coming as you finally tossed the open lock onto the wooden floor with a bounce. You grabbed a few things, but the blade was what you most wanted, needed really. One you hadn’t used since you started travelling alone.

Would it come to that? Don worked for the Fireflies now, or maybe used too. But he had connections now to people who were all too happy to cut away your life for their own pointless experiments.

Now you walked alone, one bad over your shoulders and a rifle hanging off one. The crunch of the gravel beneath your shoes helped fill the silence. Focusing on the steady crunch beat after beat as you calmly approached the clearing. Surprisingly, it was less painful the further you went. You could feel the tension dripping out of your body with every step, and the heartache was replaced with a kind of solemn acceptance.

Out here you could pretend you didn’t leave people behind. You could pretend it was like the almost two years you spent alone, and it was just another day. The same sounds back then were around you afterall. Crunching gravel, light ruffle of leaves in the wind, the faint sound of birds high off in the treeline away from the problems of the world.

The overgrown path you walked along opened up into what likely used to be a city street. The pathways now covered in dirt with tree and plant life overtaking the open space and winding themselves into the derelict buildings that remained. The open space was large but empty, not a soul to be seen. You knew better. Don was around here somewhere. The question was was he here alone or did he get you to walk into an ambush?

The Fireflies weren’t likely to come out in aggressive force, they preferred to trick you with sympathy. Act calm and rational, feed you a story you’re likely to buy only to trap you into something you knew nothing about. Nothing you could see scanning your eyes around told you there was anyone hiding in larger numbers, so you stepped forward.

Entering the clearing with slow steps. The crunch of gravel smoothing out into a smush into the dirt, leaving the air even more devoid of life. You didn’t bother entertaining the idea that no one was here but you. Having that kind of hope was becoming something of a disappointment. The further you walked into the middle the more your fingers at your side twitched. The gun was your primary choice, but it also sat along the shoulder the same side as the knife you had tucked away. You were ready to grab either if you were jumped.

But you weren’t, not physically. In the dead air, and echoed shot blasted through the silence and shook away the birds in the trees. Merely a foot or two in front of you the dirt blasted up onto your shoes as a bullet forced its way into the ground. So he was somewhere in front of you.

You stood silently, heart treading on racing once again as your head kept forward while your eyes looked as far as they could reach. Then his nasally voice yelled out, “You alone?”

More twitch of your fingers, don’t reach for the gun. “Yeah.” You didn’t quite yell, but was loud enough to hear if he was further away than you think. It did however, strike a thought into your head as Don responded. You had without thinking, reached for Joels shirt. In trying to be silent you didn’t even notice you had picked up and thrown on the very red flannel shirt he had torn off of him the night before. It didn’t comfort you. It only made you yearn for his broad frame and cozy body heat all the more.

“Drop your gun.” When you didn’t comply he shot again, this time inches closer to your feet. “I said drop it, or I’ll drop you, you got that?”

Your jaw clenched, teeth scraping together as you shrugged it off your shoulders, plopping it onto the ground. He’d yell at you anyways, but you raised your foot just slightly over it’s side as he spoke again. “That’s right, kick it away from you.” It slid clumsily on the rough dirt, but it was enough that you’d have to go too far to grab it again. “Now throw the bag.”

You couldn’t stop yourself. “Seriously? What do you think I’m hiding in there?”

Don didn’t shoot again, but his agitation was growing. “Just throw the fucking bag.” Rolling your eyes, you slid each strap from your shoulders. Holding it dramatically in the air with an annoyed raise of your eyebrows, you tossed it even further then the gun. Dirt muffling the clang of the heavy weight slamming to the ground. “Okay now just stay right there. Don’t you fucking move, got it?”

Tilting your head slightly, it was as much of an answer as you’d give him. You couldn’t grace his hiding cowardice with a real response.

Finally the weasel barrels out of the tree line ahead, his own rifle primed and pointed at you as he came towards you. For some reason, it struck you how utterly disgusting his collared shirt dyed a dirty mustard yellow looked on him. Maybe you were finding things to look at that took away from what was about to happen, or maybe you were just starting to accept the start of the end.

His eyes wide and bulging from his sockets, he leaned to the ground as he keeps a slightly unsteady aim at you. Not even looking down he fumbles along the dirt to grab the gun without looking away, taking a few tries of patting around. Finding the metal, he snatches it back, barrel dragging across the dirt leaving an imprint in it’s path before he flings it over his own person. He then went for the bag.

“What you scared I’m hiding backup in there?” Gun pointed at you, you reminded yourself. Gun pointed at you with a man working for the people wanting you to, essentially die. Not the time for being a smartass.

Don took the higher road and just glared as his right side leans down to grab the bag, snapping it open clumsily and yanking it upside down to pour everything out onto the ground. Mostly just medical supplies, a small canteen of water, a few random supplies and a box of ammo. Don pocked those without even thinking.

Pausing before he stood back up, he looked between you and the pile before flatly picking the water canteen up and tossing it at you. Raising your eyes up in doubt he shrugged, hoisting his own gun up to keep it properly held on you. “I’m not that cruel.”

Your face felt just as flat as his looked, a complete portrayal of annoyed and unimpressed with a voice just as monotone. “Thanks. I’ll remember this always.”

Silence danced between you, waiting for a move to be made by either party, Don seemingly had anticipated a fight from you, and was almost unsure of himself now that you gave him control from minute one. His mouth opening and closing a few times as he licks his lips as a nervous tick before fixing a firm look. “We still got a bit to walk. So get to it. No funny stuff.”

How Don ever worked as security for the Fireflies was beyond you. You could only wonder where it was he was stationed that clearly didn’t require him to be in any way tough or enforcing. Maybe one of their research places. Low population, usually in some kind of a hospital that no one thought to look in.

It showed. The gun never was totally steady and unshaking in his hands for even a minute. Don gestured with the barrel and a nod of his head in tandem to force you to walk in front of him.

You didn’t say anything to him as you walked, there was nothing you wanted to say. The only thing you wanted was to ignore the overwhelming feeling of loneliness as you thought about what you left behind in Jackson, and how foolish it was of you to assume you’d ever get to keep it.

It was rare these days for anyone to be on the receiving end of Joel’s temper. He had settled into a quiet life without the paranoia jadedness that plagued him for so many years. He spent months pushing away Ellie and directing his pain into anger in order to do it, but she was still here, and so was he. The anger had simmered into a difficult acceptance of fatherhood, and it was still a process both of them were working towards. For a long time Joel had given up the idea of family, he and Tommy barley spoke afterall and now he was grappling with coming to terms with being father again, without being eaten alive with guilt and falling back into the circle of pain.

The more his quiet life with Ellie stayed calm and quiet though, the easier things became. Whatever paternal instincts he once thought he lost forever continued to come back day after day, learning how easy it was to be a father to Ellie and accepting that it was truly this internal anger and loss that planted that seed of doubt. But it had been over a year now in Jackson, and everyday it got a little easier to feel like a family.

Then months ago, on a gloomy day constantly threatening to turn the light mist into a downpour, Joel went in search of his brother to complain about a broken pipe and found a quiet but tense figure he didn’t recognize. A woman sizing him up as if his frustration on a bad day was a sign of incoming aggression. The Joel just kept seeing you around, and slowly worked your way into his life as it you were meant to be there.

It wasn’t always easy with you. You tended to be quiet and reserved, holding back your thoughts and feelings in favour of keeping the status quo, regardless if that’s what Joel wanted or not. You clearly didn’t have a lot of relationship experience, if any. Joel found it easier for him to remember what a relationship felt like then it was for you to let yourself enjoy it.

This past week though, you had been off. Not just quieter than normal, but tense. Very tense, ready to snap at any moment and constantly sneaking back to your mostly empty house hoping he didn’t notice. Yesterday you were less tense, but almost like you were gone. The afternoon you were distant and disconnected as you lost yourself in your thoughts, and Joel spent the night trying to pull you out of it. He knew all too well how fast being pulled under like that could get.

So when morning came, and you had taken not only your bag, but your emergency supplies, your weapons, and left all before he and Ellie woke up in the early morning? He knew something was wrong, he just didn’t realize the extent of it until Maria stopped by. Suddenly, that growing anger was returning.

“You just watched her leave town and not bother to ask where the hell she was going?” Anyone walking by would be able to hear the argument between Joel and his sister-in-law. Maria was growing just as angry the more Joel lost his cool.

“Do you really think she would have told me the truth even if I pried? Interrogating her would only clam her up more.” Their stances were one in the same, in the middle of his living room hands on their hips with angry eyes blazing at the other. Only Maria kept moving a hand to her forehead in exasperated exhaustion. “What was I supposed to do?”

Joel didn’t move an inch. Standing as still as a statue as an acidic mixture of anger and panic boiled up in his stomach. “How about you come in here and wake my ass up before she got too far?”

There was a sorrow in Maria’s tone. “Joel if she wanted you to know she was leaving she would have told you.”

That wasn’t an option. You were the third piece of the family he and Ellie created, you practically lived in their house now, you all needed each other. You wouldn’t get up and leave without a word just because you were done with them.

Ellie had stormed off at the insinuation you had abandoned them. Yelling she was going to your place with a slam of the front door that shook the wall. It wasn’t just Joel that felt a deep attachment to you. Returning, she flew threw the door not bothering to shut it. A panic flash over her entire face between heaving to catch her breath. “She didn’t just leave.”

Holding a small box in her hands, she rushed to kneel down in front of a small coffee table and started pulling things out. “She-it was just sitting out in the open. I think she had it hidden for a while.”

Joel knelt down next to her, a hand briefly on the space between her shoulders with a small rub as her breathing came down. He didn’t like going through something you wanted to keep personal, but it was all right there. A few trinkets were scattered about, small sentimental things like an old broken mp3 player, a necklace, and the sorts. Scraps of paper sat in a pile, gently combing through them, there were drawings. Rough pencil sketches of people and places he didn’t recognize, and near the bottom of the pile, one unfinished drawing that looked like Ellie and himself.

Joel’s thumb rubbed over the lines with a barley there touch, he didn’t even knew you could draw let alone that you were trying to draw them. “I also found this,”

Ellie handed Joel a larger folded paper, opening up to be a torn part of a map, in red was a little nowhere spot a town or so over with today’s date. Clipped to it was a ripped paper not in your writing. A large messy script that had written Joel’s name and crossed it out in a red X, below with the words ‘Just you’.

“What the fuck?” Joel’s soft muttering was enough to reach Maria’s ears, circling around the room to see what they found. Joel and Ellie met the others eyes with a wide look filled with some level of tense panic. You didn’t just walk away, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why someone was using his life as a threat to get you to leave, and moreso, why you didn’t just tell him what was going on so he could help you? Why keep something like this from him?

It wasn’t until the duo were nearly out the door that Maria’s comments finally registered. “Let me get Tommy, we’ll set up a search area-”

Ellie whipped around, her face was tense and clenched as she white knuckled the straps of her bag. “No. The sooner we leave the more likely we can catch up to her. We have to go right now.”

Lord, the ways Joel and Ellie somehow looked nothing like each other but also exactly the same would be fascinating on any other day. Joel’s jaw clenching as a determined fear blinked across his eyes. “She’s right. If we don’t go after her now, she’s just going to make it harder for anyone to follow her, and I’m bringing her home.”

Maria looked at him for a moment with understanding, before nodding. “I’ll ask around, see if anyone knows anything. If it’s someone in town doing it, there’s gotta be at least one person who has any idea.” A gentle hand squeezed Joel’s shoulder, in the short time they’ve known each other she feels like she knows him well. He and Tommy are one in the same in a lot of ways. When thing’s hurt, they wear that hurt on their sleeve. Joel briefly covered her hand in thanks before the pair left.

Ellie’s voice kept filling the air, a confused hurt that he hadn’t heard from her in a long time. Not since he himself had tried to leave her behind. “Why wouldn’t she just tell us if someone threatened her? What, she didn’t think she could trust us?” It came out angry, but it was guilt, he felt the same.

“I don’t think it’s personal, Ellie. She trusts us, but she also refuses to put any of her problems on us, like it’s not worth our time.” Nearing the edge of town, Joel braced himself for whatever they may find out there.

“But we’re family, that’s what we’re for.”

Both their voice were quiet. Joel’s heart felt a pull he had been holding back for a while now. He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke those words or even felt that towards another person like this, and the last thing he wanted was to scare you off by dumping it on you too soon. He couldn’t help but wonder, if he just said it beforehand, would you have finally trusted them? Finally understood your problems weren’t a burden?

Maybe you’d finally have understood that you’re not intruding on he and Ellie’s little family, but that you were apart of it. Instead the pair walked through the path Joel vaugley had plotted out in his head. He knew how to get there, he just hoped that he’d be able to track where you went if whoever had you had taken you somewhere else.

Turns out, Ellie was thinking exactly what he was. In the silence, she muttered out a few short words in anger. He didn’t blame her, he felt the same way. “You should have told her.”

The air was hot and stifling as the sun found it’s way up, there was little sign of life as you were marched forward. Most animals and insects seeking shelter from the heat, but you had no opportunity. You didn’t dare take Joels flannel off to cool down either, it might be the only reminder you’ll have of him ever again, as childish as it felt to say.

Don had rambled on the entire time. Telling you about his time with the Fireflies, about what he did and who he met as if any of it mattered to you. You had your fair share of run in’s with them since that day and all it did was put your secret on red alert. Painting a target on your back, and you quickly learned that said target was directed at any and everyone who was like you. Their claims were that it was necessary to protect lives, but they had taken away every single one of you they met. When did that body count outweigh whatever they were trying and failing to look for inside of you?

That day you found out still stuck with you. The further from Jackson you went, it was as if the clearer and clearer that memory became. Don had lost his wife the previous night. You had been put on watch in the dead of night, running on no sleep going on 36 hours and no food you had begged to switch shifts. You were younger than them all though, you were only told what to do.

Men had shown up at the darkest part of the night, you didn’t even see it happen. Leaned up against a tree you had heard a twig snap and turned your head just in time to meet a painful whack. It only knocked you out for a few seconds, but it was long enough that they walked into the little camp with no warning. Your vision was fuzzy, and you had fresh cuts from your skin scraping against the rocks below your feet.

The group never found out what they wanted, likely just vultures looking to take what they didn’t have, but Dons wife had been the casualty. You had staggered into the camp, blood dripping down from whatever he had hit you with at the top of your head, and vision blurred. All you could really see was her bright hair splayed out across a rock and blood painting it’s blonde colour a sickening red.

Don blamed you, and honestly you blamed yourself as well. The rest of the next day was horrifically tense between you two. Don would lash out and lose it once an hour and you were starting to realize you deserved it. Maybe now it would have been different, but it was years ago, you were younger and less capable. And you certainly were far worse at defending yourself.

You were pushed out of your thoughts all of the sudden. Literally. Don shoved your forward with the gun like a child shoves a sibling in annoyance. “You listening to anything I fucking said?”

If you clenched your jaw any tighter you’re bones were going to start cracking. “Something about how great the Fireflies are and how well they treated you.” A thought passed through you and slipped out before you could access it. “Tell me Don,” Turning your head to just see his mustard shirt, “What kind of security does a hospital need? We both know these people aren’t healing people out of the good of their hearts. What’s the point of guarding a place only other Fireflies know about”

“Wouldn't you like to know.” You had forgotten how utterly childish he was.

“What? I can’t know their secrets? You’re forcing me at gunpoint to them, I think I have the right to know before they cut me open.” He was muttering to himself, something that sounded like a question or doubt but he was too quiet to understand.

The steps of your feet suddenly were alone, the sound of his own on the ground no longer playing alongside your own. Turning around fully, Don was standing in place, gun still aimed at you but lowered casually as he ran a hand over his mouth in thought. As your eyes met, you raised an eyebrow in question only to be met with him gesturing with the gun to move once again.

He finally spoke after you figured he was ignoring you. “I was asked to go to Salt Lake City. They got an old hospital down there that they use as some research facility or something. Not much action, sometimes a few new people would show up. Sometimes they’d leave not long after, some of them never came out.”

You could feel your guts twisting, but you needed to know what you were walking into. “Whose some of them?”

Don stammered, “I-k-,” before letting a large sigh out. His voice had lowered, akin to a whisper spoken out in a tinge of shame. “Sometimes they came in already unconscious, the adults at least. The few kids I saw came in willingly, but I don’t think they really knew what was going to happen.” You could feel foam and bile pushing it’s way up your throat in horror. “Only one of ‘em ever managed to get out.”

Your fingers tensed until they turned colour from the strain, willing not to form them into fists or even dig your nails into your palm, he’d take that as a threat. But your chest burned at the implication he knew you understood. “By get out I assume you don’t mean they just held the door open as they walked out.”

Dons voice was rough, gritted out in an emotion that felt painful even to you. “No. That one uh, cost a lot of lives. Don’t even think the good ole doctor survived that one.”

You didn’t care. Truly, you didn’t care. You knew they were still doing it, still looking for answers in the same places they always failed to find them, but you sure as hell didn’t know kids were on his table as well. From the interactions you had with the man, you found yourself fantasizing it was justice. It didn’t matter how polite he was, how much bedside manner he had, or the soft spoken ways he tried to convince people that giving you up was for the good of humanity. You knew better. You knew his work, his body count, and now you knew that included children.

“So who do they have doing their dirty work now?”

A building entered your vision, a small rundown shack of a place that may once have been some small town sheriffs office. There was one cracked window covered up hastily with wooden boards and the wood was dilapidated from moisture of the plants overgrowing around it. “Few of us, finding people who may help us,”

“You mean be useful to you.”

You could hear the eye roll in his tone. “Whatever. I got told to look for doctors and convince them to join our cause.” It was hard to tell with the Fireflies if they really believed the things they said, or if everyone understood it was nothing but propaganda to fool people. Whatever righteous cause they started off as, you didn’t think they cared about much other than themselves anymore.

“So you came to Jackson.” Don begun directing you towards the building, coming more up to your side than holding you at gun point. “And told them you found me.”

Closing in on the main door, he nodded his head for you to press up against the other side as he prepared to grab the handle, but he paused, his hand hovering above it as he stared intensely into nothing. “No, not really. I told them I’d bring anyone of interest around here and I’d radio them to come and pick us up once I got you there.”

A hollow chuckle left you as you looked with disdain at him. “Is that the plan, Don? Lock me up again, but this time trust you to just hand me over?”

Still not looking at you his chest inflated as he took a breathe. He wouldn’t respond to that. He was willing to admit to what he was doing, but he wasn’t going to admit he beat up a girl ten years his junior, let her get attacked and tossed her in a locked cell for days assuming it would kill her. That’s a guilt he was unwilling to take responsibility for. “Shut up once we’re in there. We don’t know if there’s any of those fuckers hiding in the offices or some shit, and no I’m not giving you your fucking gun.”

Don hated the playfully condescending look you gave him. “Didn’t ask for it.” Guns were loud and awkward, and Don never asked you to give up any knives you may had hidden on your body.

So he opened the front door and scoped the joint right away. Enough light seeped through the wooden cracks to illuminate the room, and like he predicted there was nothing right away, but you were willing to bet if you made enough noise, you’d start to hear loud clicking coming from those closed hallway doors.

It was the loud echos of a gun that drew Joel and Ellie into a run. They knew if there was a confrontation, they wouldn’t get there in time but the adrenaline flowed through their veins all the same. The clearing indicated on the map came up quickly as they finally past the tree line.

Both panting and looking around to see no one on either sides. There was however, a mess right near the middle. Nudging Ellie to keep in front of him, Joel scoured the treeline for any sign of movement but nothing but the blow of the leaves found him.

Right smack in the middle was a tossed array of supplies. Emergency medical items, stray ammo seemingly dropped from a box, and a minuscule amount of anything to survive long lasting out here. The sickening feeling grew as Joel realized that if you never planned on coming back, judging by what you had on you, you sure didn’t intend on lasting long out here either.

Ellie’s eyes were stuck on a scattered spray of blood. Not enough to be from a gunshot wound, but someone was definitely hit here. Fingers gripping the edge of your bag tightly she almost started trembling. “You should have told her.”

It was quiet but she knew Joel heard her. His unresponsive look only upset her more, this time she yelled. “You should have told her!” Taking steps towards him she looked up at him in anger as if her short stature could be a threat. “If you just told her how you feel, she wouldn’t have just walked out on us!”

Joel was quiet. His heart brewing in his chest as the way she worded it felt more than just an accident. Walked out on us. Like they were a normal family whose other parent just left one day and didn’t come back. “Ellie, she was hiding something she thought was bigger than us-”

Standing her ground, Ellie didn’t back down. “And if she knew you loved her maybe she would have actually realized we wanted to help-”

Joel sternly gave a warn of her name more than once, trying to overpower the increased emotions from the teenager without losing his cool. Finally, he yelled it once more, leaning down to grasp at her arms and force her to look him in the eye. Her voice was quieter this time. “I know how it feels to think the people you love don’t care about you like that back. Like you’re attachment to them just interrupts there life.”

Not quite watery, but a misty glaze over her eyes stabbed at his heart. One hand moved to hold her cheek as his voice softened. “So we find her. We get her home and prove her otherwise. Okay?”

Taking a deep breath, Ellie’s composure returned and stood a little taller again. Joel bent down for a minute to gather you’re forgotten things. His low view giving him a better vantage point to look, as he squinted around to see any hint. And he found something. There were a scattered array of footprints in the light dirt around them, some of which dragged in the opposite direction Joel had come in.

He knew not much was out that way. Ellie came into his view to join. “That way?” Nodding, the two stood up to leave, but she had one last fear to voice. “Joel, what if he find her and she’s..”

The anxiety ate away at him, you were so afraid of getting in the way of their lives that you were willing to die out here just to spare them your problems. He couldn’t think that way. They’d get to you and you would be totally fine. It was a stupid hope to so desperately hold onto, but finding nothing but a corpse would only dominate his fears if he festered on it. “We bring her home, Ellie. No matter what.”

Joel told himself to focus on your feeling. How you so rarely ever touched him in any way that wasn’t filled with a hesitant wave of strong emotions, the way you reciprocated how intense he was growing to feel about you. The bark of laughter you’d give out when the cracks finally were chipped away at.

The image of you trying to hide your mouth behind a laugh or smile, and how that turned into a full smiling giggle with a roll of your eyes as Joel would grab at your hands and pull them behind your back, mumbling into your ear to “stop hiding from me, already.”

Focusing on nights, how intimate sex with you was like you craved close and meaningful as opposed to just casual and fun, and after every time, it was the only time in decades that he felt so comfortable falling asleep next to somebody.

Focus on that he told himself. Joel had to focus on that, not the gut wrenching nightmare they may find.

So far he had let you pace around freely, watching you just wait for him to make any kind of move. That sickness in your stomach never really going away. You only ever heard of other adults being brought to them, but you didn’t know kids had been as well. Kids that had never even experienced a world before everything was ravaged by infection. Demanding they give their life up for something they never even knew about.

You had seen it, people genuinely finding a way to rebuild their own lives and live in relative normalcy. You had traveled into a small community one day many months ago and found that long forgotten experience of a peaceful civilization. Maybe you were just naive, you had never actually lived in any of the closed military run quarantine zones. You just went from living a quiet unspectacular life to being pried away from your parents and forced into an existence of non stop running. Maybe it was childish to wish that kids got to have what was torn away from you.

You turned from looking mindlessly at faded, dusty frames on the wall, to the shaking end of a pistol. Face falling from impassive to bewildered, “Hey, look you have my gun I’m not trying to run.” You took slow steps towards Don, hands out to appear non threatening. “Just call whoever you’re going to call, and we’ll wait here in peace.”

You stopped abruptly, when Don shifted to point directly at your head mere feet away. “Neither of us are going anywhere.”

Tilting your head in confusion, you lowered your hands back to your sides. There was an upsetting waver to his voice that put you more on edge than you liked.

His mouth opened and closed trying to put the words inside it. “You know what I see when I look at you?” Your eyebrows raised in question but you said nothing. “I see the hazy little face of a dumb kid who let those fucking monsters come into our camp. The stupid kid who looked wide eyed and confused as I held my wife’s bloody head in my fucking lap.”

Swallowing hard, you tensed your muscles. That tingling sensation flowing through them as you braced yourself to move quick. You still didn’t speak, Don wasn’t finished and honestly, there was little you could say. Not of guilt, and not in defense. He didn’t want you for what the Fireflies thought was right, no he wanted you for something far more personal.

“I see the face of that little bitch who left your worthless ass bleeding out, hoping to god you’d get torn apart before it took hold. Now I’m standing in front of you, looking at you surviving what none of us could and deciding you don’t fucking deserve it.”

The flashes of memory in your mind became clearer and clearer. You had little reason in the last while to ever think of it, but it still wove it’s way in front of you eyes.

Don cornering you in a room drenched with the crawling of the filthy reach of the fungus. The yelling and screaming of nothing as he knocked you around, and the burning pain alighting your arm when he became loud enough to attract a clicker, and just stood and watched as it sunk it’s rotting teeth into your skin, waiting to kill it only after it was done.

You remember feeling frozen, your heart lurching in your chest constricting your breath in terror, only to have it get worse. Don had finally taken advantage of your shock, yanking you by your hair painfully, just so he could toss you in a cell and lock it behind you. Dangerous colours like moss spread around your body and blood watching the wide bloodshot-ed look in your eyes.

He never spoke a word, he just turned and opened a door you had yet to check, letting another one of those things out and abandoning you.

You had no idea how long you were in there. The world spun and faded as you were forced to face the end. The clicker guarding the outside as if just to remind you what you would eventually become. For a few hours, you sat against a wall on the floor, knees to your chest as you gripped your knife to upright against your chest. You didn’t dare move, make any sound. You wanted to feel when it happened and stop it before it was too late.

The bite wound bled, the room tinged in a musky scent of decay that should have pulled you with it’s reach. Maybe it was the shock and exhaustion that did you in, but you felt the world become dazed before falling to the side as your head slammed into the concrete.

You had woken up maybe days later, and that was it. You had woken up. Nothing had changed but dehydration. The bite in fact, was already scabbing over like it was just a scrape. Tears flowed freely down as you felt too much at once. Never once in your life had you been told someone could survive the infection, and even up until you made it Jackson you never met anyone else.

Rumours of the immune being seeked by Fireflies only found it’s way to you when one of them saw the healed bite on your arm. That’s when you scarred it over. A night spend hiding away with a fire only big enough to burn the metal blade until it seared into your flesh and hiding the evidence away from the world.

Rattling of doors brought you to the present. Had he kept talking, had he been yelling? It was as if you were entirely absent as soon as your memory invaded your mind. He was still talking, but now spitting at you to hide against the pillar opposite of him near the hallway entrance. His back was braced against the wall, with nervous hands checking his gun.

You weren’t quite sure what compelled you to risk it, but in quiet whispers, you begun poking at his resolve. “You really willing to risk your life for this?”

Dons eyes bulged from their sockets in shock, “What are you-”

“You left me to die once, what does doing it again accomplish?” You didn’t need to even peek at the oncoming sounds. Unchecked doors finding their ways open as the clicks grew loud. If you had to guess, there was at least two. “Kill me for what? To avenge a dead wife I had nothing to do with?”

He all but hissed at you, “Shut up.”

“You won’t even hand me over to the one cause you actually believe in, that how selfish you are?” Your whispers kept even, trying to stab at the part of him that would get distracted. “You’re fine with letting those people lying to people so they can keep cutting open kid’s brains, so you must just be selfish.” He’d get too loud, attract attention, force him to turn the other way to watch.

His eyes flickered between you and the pillar behind him as if trying to look through it. “You’re the reason she’s dead I don’t give a shit what they do to you?”

He finally met your eyes, “Would you have given her up if she were immune, Don?” His eyes blasted with rage the more you spoke. It didn’t feel good, slandering what you remember as a decent woman, but he took your stuff. Left you with one hidden blade and that wouldn’t keep these things off of you. “Hand her over like you did actual children? Other peoples lives don’t matter to you, right? Sacrificing kids is fine to you, would she agree? Be proud of what you’ve done? Or be disgusted at who you are-”

“It’s about making you pay!”

Too loud. Not enough to send them into a frenzy, but they clicked more. The cracking of their limbs and the groans that were left of their vocal cords screeched louder as they listened for more. Don’s anger flashed to fear in an instant. His body whipping around to finally brave a peek around the corner.

You could still feel the blood on your face from slamming into the ground, the phantom stinging of your arm as their grotesque sounds filled the dead air, the terrifying fear braced against the wall waiting for the infection to take you, and the threat of murdering that ‘fuck’ that you lived with if you didn’t meet him and do what he demanded, that he’d take away what he no longer had.

And so your fingers slowly grasped the blade of the knife. Your entire back braced against the wall and watching him to turn around as you slowly pulled it out, your grip tight, your resolve hardening. It was simple. Don either was going to kill you, the ones you love, or hand you back over to the Fireflies. None of those were an option to you. So your body inched forward slightly and slightly more.

Making your move, Don had gotten smarter then you thought. You both met in the middle, your knife held sideways across his neck and a similar feeling piercing the skin of your stomach. A silent fury brewed between flaming eyes as you fought to keep an even breathe.

You could feel the teasing poke of the tip of his own knife as if challenging you to stab him first. But that wasn’t what you planned. Your own free hand wasn’t anything he focused on, the silent creep towards his loose grip on his pistol.

It all happened in a moment. You yanked it from his own hand, and in return he slashed at your stomach. A long lash deep and harsh enough to force a cry of pain to yell from your mouth. The screeching roared in an instant, both your bodies exposed in the halls entrance.

Your guess was right, there were two, and both had their own targets to pursue. For a brief moment you only could watch one lunge past in a blur towards a now flailing back Don. A moment lasting long enough for the other clicker to come up behind you.

Trying to move back away from it, your footing wasn’t steady enough and send you flying to the ground, the knife clanging against the floor away from you as the pistol dropped next to you much harder. It didn’t hesitate.

Clickers only had one goal, the same goal that had once consumed their own lives. Cordyceps didn’t seek blood or violence or even food, they simply saw a host. And in the spinning world as you fell, it followed and sunk it’s mouth into your side. It’s only goal to spread it’s fungus to more and more hosts. Their teeth were sharp and unforgiving, as you could feel a firing burn splash across your skin like acid, and the mix of two open wounds bleeding in tandem.

Your hearing fell to the pounding of your heart, unable to hear Don’s own cries or even what existed around you. But you had still gotten what you pried from his person. Mustering enough to kick at the creatures body it pushed back far enough to give you a chance to grab the gun laid beside you. It’s teeth ripping part of your skin out as you did so forcing another cry.

It let out the very sounds you were once terrified of becoming, it’s mutated head baring blood soaked teeth at you before you pulled the trigger, watching more of it’s own blood splatter across your face and fall to the floor.

The other made a similar sound, now lunging towards you only to find the same shot forcing it to the ground with an unforgiving slam.

For a moment you were both quiet. You on the ground, trying to lean against the wall as you found yourself soaked in blood not just the clickers, feeling the wound scream at you in agony. Don was partially against a table, holding a bloody hand to his neck, eyes soaked with fear and a watery gaze.

The silence between you so heavy that not even the desperate need to gasp or cry came out, just a painfully silent feeling of pain. Don tried to say anything. Muttering softly, he called your name out to get you to focus on him,

“”I-,” another shot rang out. Your arm weakly outstretched as a final bullet plummeted into his stomach. Whether it was shock or physically unable to speak, Don said nothing. Just slid to the ground looking down at his stomach, hand weakly falling to his sides as a bleeding wound much like your own on his neck.

You just looked away. There was a brief concoction of distressed noises softly coming from him before they gurgled and stopped all together.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there. Body sitting and soaked in a pool of your own blood. The thick air could make anyone feel sick. The stench of whatever toxicity flowed through the clickers reeking the air and mixing horribly with the overwhelming rusting scent of your own blood.

There was no way of guessing how long you sat there, maybe fading in and out of consciousness, it was hard to stay present. Lulling your head to the side finally you braved a look. Don was motionless, limp and not breathing.

Should you feel guilty? Maybe. But twice now you sat with a burning pain from the bite of a clicker as he left you to die, only this time he had died first. Avenging a wife you never intended to be harmed many years ago. A man who told you, truthfully but with little remorse, that his new found group of rebels murdered not just you, but innocent children. All for a chance to look for a hint of a cure that you knew they already never have found.

You thought of Joel. A memory strange to think of in this moment, but it was clear as day.

Both of you sat side by side on his front steps, arms, shoulders and legs brushing up on the other with no space between you. From your view his scruff showed off the mixed in greys of the dark brown that matched his dark hair, just slightly curling in the summer heat.

Weirdly enough you could clearly see the outside of his face, a softness to him that was often hidden by a harsh glare. The strong angular nose framing his side profile in a way you previously never knew could be handsome or attractive. For a while you remember staring at him, before his deep voice pulled you back. “If I had a camera, I’d tell you to just take a picture.” His face looking at you to show off his looks face on, even if that's not what he intended. “Instead how about you tell me why you’re gawking at me like I’m a zoo animal.”

Joel’s face held a slight smirk, a lightness in his eyes that even he still was getting used too. All you could do was shake your head with a small smile and turn away again. His shoulder purposely bumping into yours. His voice warm in your ears as he had leaned in closer. “You gonna tell me what’s stirring through that head of yours?”

With a breathe, you looked down at nothing before flickering your eyes up to where you could barley see Ellie off in the distance. “Just not used to it, is all.”

“Used to what?” Joel’s voice was comforting even when he didn’t intend it to be.

With a half shrug you nodded over to where you had been looking. “All this. Being around people this way again.” Your fingers toyed meaninglessly with each other in distraction to his deep gaze. “Feeling like I belong.”

He was silent for a beat before nodding his head out to her. “I never thought I’d feel this way ever again. Not after everything.” From your peripheral vision you could see Joel’s hand toying with the watch always on his wrist. You had sort of talked about it, about Sarah, but you never brought it up yourself. She was his daughter, his loss, it wasn’t your place to ask about her unprompted. “But having that girl in my life? It helped me remember how much family really means, how much we all need that feeling deep down.”

Your brows furrowed, refusing to look up at his thoughtful gaze. You didn’t mean to imply you had intruded on his little family, that’s what you had been trying not to do, not to force yourself into their lives when you didn’t belong there. “She’s good for you. You’re good for her.”

Not saying anything at first, Joel raised his hand to cup the side of your head, pulling you into his space as he kissed the top of it. “So are you. You outta remember that.” You could feel his lips mumbling against your hair before one last smaller kiss and he stood up. His hand trailed along your head in a slight caress until it was too far.

You just watched as he joined Ellie, and how quick they turned to smiling and joking together anytime they were near each other. You weren’t sure how you felt, if you longed to be apart of that, or if it was guilt for wanting to intrude on it.

You still felt that now. The bleeding wasn’t pouring so severely, but you trembled and every muscle weighted down with lead. Your gaze had remained on the blade when you started to move. Crawling across the floor, face tight in a grimace of pain as your blood smeared along the path.

In the only other pocket you almost didn’t remember you had, you pulled out a dinged up lighter. It was agony, trying to pull yourself up enough to pull the fabric of your shirt away from the bite, it bled more than the gash to your stomach, so that’s all you could even focus on.

Your breathing was heavy and bordered on hyperventilating as you took hold of the knife. The blood left in your veins rung in your ears as you barley could see anymore. Enough to see the bright orange of the flame licking across the metal. You hoped you remembered how long it took last time to do this. The last time was to hide the healed bite, but now you’d settle for stopping the bleeding before the blur became too much to stay awake for, maybe alive for.

Your breathing was quick and light headed inducing as you hovered the knife’s flat edge over your abdomen. Your eyes squeezed shut as tension coursed through your body.

This time you had no memory of it. No chance to think or wonder, just the gasp of what felt like a scream, the tiniest register of searing burning, and then nothing. Passed out from shock, you saw nothing in your dreamless state. Just the vaguest dream of a deep voice, one full of such warmth and concern with the slightest of a Texas twinge, but maybe it was simply a dream of a better life.

It wasn’t clear to you how much you slipped in and out of consciousness. Sometimes you felt hands on you, pressure and pain on the bite wound you tried to cauterize, large and rougher feeling ones usually closest to the pain, and smaller ones floating around you. Other times you were awake enough to register the voices belonged to Joel and Ellie, other times you were weakly trying to bash their hands away from you too close to being pulled back under to recognize them.

By the time you had woken up, it was just starting to get dark. Ellie was no where to be seen, but you could see her backpack sitting by one of Joel’s packs. Your vision was still somewhat blurry from sleep, but you could still see enough to make out Joel solemnly in thought as he read something on a piece of paper.

Your muscles felt weak sore, but much lighter and the burning pain in your side toned down. It took you a bit more effort to push your torso up from the palms of your hands as you winced in a bit of pain. Before you really knew it, Joel has breathed out your name and knelt by your side. A large hand supporting your back and another on your hip to help you move in general.

His brown eyes bore into your face with a hardened look, not quite anger but certainly a degree of frustration. A flash of held back concern as you sighed out a breathe of relief as you were upright, but quickly was swallowed down with a shake of his head. His hands left you while he looked to the ground collecting himself before his head shooting back up to meet your eyes. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

Weirdly enough, his bluntness was comforting. Your mouth opened and shut as many things zoomed past your field of thought too fast to catch one. Lucky for you Joel wasn’t finished. “Why didn’t you just tell me what was going on, or ask me to just help you?”

Pressing your hands up to rub your eyes, as if when you reopened them you’d magically have a good answer. You didn’t. “It wasn’t your problem to deal with.”

His hands flying up grasp at the sides of your face, almost shaking you as he did so with his teeth slightly baring as he did so. “You went and almost got yourself killed, of course that’s my problem. What did you want, me to leave you there and bleed to death?”

One of his hands slipped away as you turned to look away for a moment. Fingers gently tracing along your now bandaged side. You could feel Joel’s gaze following, there was no way he didn’t see. You know the shock overtook you before it could be burned over. His hands clenched into fists at his sides now. “When someone threatens your life over something you had no part in, yeah I decided getting you involved would be selfish.”

Your jaw clenched, teeth biting the inside of your cheek as Joel looked with tense eyes still on your side as he nods his chin towards it. “Does that part have anything to do with the bite you already got healing over?”

You didn’t say a word. Nothing good ever came from telling someone, and it didn’t matter how much you trusted Joel with all your heart, that instinct to keep the secret to yourself felt stronger. Reaching for your arm, his thumb trailed over the long healed scar tissue, brows furrowed as he did so. “How long have you know..about..” his eyes flickering between the healed burn and the bandaged one.

“A couple years. He uh, Don, was the reason I even found out.” Relaying what happened that day, you couldn’t spend much of it looking Joel in the eye. Heaping with guilt for your actions and shame for not trusting this man with that information. Finally, you looked up and off into the distance nothing in direct mind, but far away in thought, you talked about the Fireflies. What they wanted from you, what you learned that had been doing, and that all you wanted to do was keep him and Ellie away from that. “You two don’t deserve to get wrapped up into it.”

The second you mentioned the Fireflies, Joels free hand clenched tightly. A wavering crack in his steadfast demeanour. Your name passed his lips with force, as if he had to push the word from his mouth calmly instead of breaking free. “This is bigger than just you. I can’t just let you go off on your own, family are supposed to protect each other.”

Flickering to meet his eyes, you were surprised to see a softer gaze, one with an indiscernible softness you still struggled to identify. So you looked away again, down to the thumb now pressed against the scar issue. “I was trying to keep you and Ellie out of it, you two are family you shouldn’t have come after me, you were doing fine protecting each other.”

“And what does that make you?” You looked up at him, Joel’s face a mixture of many things, confused, maybe even offended. “You said Ellie and I are family, do you really not think you’re apart of that by now?”

You didn’t want to get upset, but your heart and your mind swirled around you too much. “I’m not-”

Finally, his hands encompassed your face once more, this time a small smile sliding across it in affection. “If you don’t realize you’re family to us by now, you might not be as smart as I thought you were, sweetheart.”

A breathy laugh left you, wincing as you did so. Joel moved to steady your waist just above the wound shushing you to take it easy. Covering the one on your cheek with your hand, you met his warm brown eyes. “It felt wrong, trying to intrude on your lives just because of how I feel.”

Pulling your head lightly into his, Joel pressed his lips against your forehead, leaning back only to press your foreheads together in a small moment of quiet peace. “Think you got it the wrong way around. If I recall, I’m the one who dragged you into our lives first. You’re family. To me, to Ellie, you are family, okay?”

Nodding against his own head, you two stayed for a moment. He just found out your biggest secret and all he had to say was he’s upset you didn’t let him help you before running off? Sometimes you just didn’t understand Joel Miller.

You two stayed like that for a while, taking in the other’s closeness and finding comfort in his touch. It wasn’t until enough time had passed that you realized a certain someone hadn’t yet joined you. Pulling away you squinted looking around before looking back to Joel. Joel with a hesitant look on his face.

“Where is Ellie?”

He let a sigh out. Mumbling your name before finally finding a seat on the ground beside you. “She’s here, she uh, needed some time alone to think while you were in and out.”

He had to pull you back down as you stood to go find her, “Joel,” another wince of pain. “I should go talk to her-”.

Joel moved to stretch one arm over your legs to rest his palm down on the other side, finding a more direct look in your eyes. “Listen, before you do...there’s something about her, about us that you deserve to know about.”

By the time you joined Ellie at the small cliff side, hardly a cliff, mostly just a meter or so drop down the sun setting was glowing a beautiful array or yellows and oranges in the sky. A bright contrast to the forgotten emptiness below. Joel had gently pushed at your lower back as you stopped in place staring at her.

You now knew what they had been through, what she was, and what Joel was keeping from her. You understood why. You couldn’t very well judge him for keeping a huge secret from the people you love to spare them from possible pain or danger, but you also were beginning to realize that the longer those stayed a secret the harder it weighed on you.

Ellie didn’t look up at you as you sat next to her, joining her shorter legs in dangling over the edge. Her own gaze was the same as yours the morning you left. Sleeve pushed up, only able to look at the reminder of what was so different about you. Only on Ellie, there was no mistaking the completely healed over bite mark.

You let the silence flow between you, letting her approach however she felt comfortable. This was a rare moment for both of you. When she did speak, her voice was drenched in a held back waver. “Why didn’t you ever tell anyone?”

Briefly you looked at each other, Ellie’s eyes flashing with upset and a watering glaze you know could spill at anytime. You didn’t get far into your sentence before looking off into the distance again. “I did actually. Some people I admitted it too, others just found out when they saw my arm. It never ended in trust. It just ended in me having to run, leave people behind because they were always going to look for people like us.”

Feeling her still looking at you she asked, “They?”

You had to approach it carefully, it wasn’t your place to tell her about the events of the day Joel went in for her. That was going to be something they had do do themselves. She’d get over what he did to save her, that much you knew. It was being lied to by the man she’s grown to see as her father that’s going to hurt the longer it goes on.

“The Fireflies aren’t who you think they are, or who anyone thinks they are for that matter. They play nice as long as they eventually get what they want from you. Those people will gain your trust, and throw it away as soon as it can be used against you.”

You pushed your own sleeve up, turning your upper half towards her as she did the same, slowly moving to line your marks against the other. Yours healed over from a burn and hers out for everyone to see if she chose to do so. Your fingers gently touched over hers and she did the same.

Neither of you had ever met another immune person. “There aren’t many of us, but the Fireflies will hunt down whoever is left. I didn’t tell anyone because ultimately your life means nothing to those people if you let them.”

Pulling back Ellie’s hands dropped into her lap, her brows furrowing in a similar fashion to the broad man leaning against a tree behind you both. “Marlene told us something inside of me might help find a cure, but that they couldn’t find anything viable.”

Clenching your jaw, you squeezed your eyes shut for just a second of composure. It wasn’t that they didn’t find anything, they never got a chance to even try. Don had mentioned a bunch of people at a Salt Lake City getting killed, and that an immune child escaped.

Ellie called your name, “If they’re not good people then what did they even want with me?”

Your face didn’t chance, a strong amount of effort and will to not give away what wasn’t yours. All you could do was raise your hand, and stroke the back of her head with a light touch. “They want us, Ellie. Any of us that exist out there, and they will lie to you if they need to.” She was looking up at you, a mixture of some degree of upset and a strange kind of affection trying to overpower the other. “You’re life is more important then what they want, Ellie. Both of you. You two are family, that’s all that matters now.” Your head nodding over to the side where he watched.

Ellie looked tired by now. “You’re family too, you know?”

That made you smile, and a deep chuckle floated close behind you as Joel came up stand just behind where you sat. You raised an eyebrow, finally your amused look giving her permission to relax, remember what normal feels like again. “You two sure you’re not actually related? ‘Cus you sure sound like it.”

Joel finally sat down next to you, the feeling of his hand once again finding it’s home on your lower back. “Don’t I know it. Why do you think we never get anything done without a debate?”

You shook your head, your little smile matched by either side of you. “Most stubborn duo I’ve ever met.” For a while you all enjoyed the lowering sun and the disappearing golden light shining in the evening sky.

Ellie’s head at some point had fallen into your lap, too much action, too much fear and way too big of a revelation between you two wearing own the smaller girl. Your hands raked through the lose strands of her hair sitting past her ponytail. Watching the unbothered face lost in a dream where maybe thing’s were less harsh and cruel outside this little bubble.

Joel ‘s voice whispering close to your ear. “I’ll tell her eventually. I know it’s right, I just can’t find the words for it without worrying she’ll resent me for it.”

Your heads leaned against the other as you moved it close to his, “She won’t. It’ll upset her, you can’t get away from that, but she needs to know. The longer you hide it, the more painful it’ll be when you do tell her, or worse. She finds out without you.”

“Just like it hurt to wake up and realize you took off because you thought leaving us in the dark would hurt less than knowing the truth?” Boy he got you there.

Your whisper was all the energy you could even summon. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Joel’s hand slid to cup the back of your head, his other gently letting his fingers grasp the bottom of your chin. His lips brushing over yours as his breath heated the skin it blew onto. “Hey, just remember. I’ve got you. We’ve both got you now.”

Your free hand awkwardly moved to find the back of his neck while trying not to disrupt Ellie. “You-” It wasn’t the right time, not for that. You had no experience on when normal people even felt that for their partners, but it didn’t seem right in this moment, but honestly, you suspected Joel read right through you anyways. “You mean a lot to me, Joel. You really do.”

Leaning, he soft as anything rubbed his nose down yours and then back again. “You mean everything to me too, sweetheart.” Finally his fingers pulled your chin the tiny space and pressed his lips against yours.

His soft lips fit you like they were fated that way, soft kisses turning into intimate swipes of his tongue on yours, but never to escalate. Just a need to feel you as much as he could, make sure you were still there with him. He was a man whose lost too much, and he’d keep your lips against his if it meant always knowing you were still there with them.

The Fireflies, the immunity, none of that was discussed that evening or the day after. Staying at that small cliff clearing to let your side heal as much as possible before the journey back. Ellie was curled up in front of you, her eyes finding your arm and your side many times before falling back asleep. Finding comfort in another person just like her.

Joel was pressed up against your back, an arm wrapped around your front, pulling you constantly into him closer and closer, and resting just above your wound not to agitate it.

It was weird, thinking you had a family in Joel and Ellie, but if they thought that way about you? Followed you out here to find and protect you? Now, it was now your responsibility to start protecting them too.

You three were family, and that’s all that matters in the end.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal x reader

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calliesmemes · 20 days

Text

PINTEREST QUOTES WITH POTENTIAL

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS pulled from various quotations I have seen on Pinterest while creating boards for my muses.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

❛ Who’s a heretic now? ❜

❛ If I stay here, trouble will find me. ❜

❛ What’s it like to be so free? ❜

❛ I watched the whole world fall apart. ❜

❛ I am teaching myself how to be free. ❜

❛ The only solution is to stand and fight. ❜

❛ There’s something tragic about you. ❜

❛ You were never a saint. ❜

❛ To be a woman is to perform. ❜

❛ l speak in verses, prophecies, and curses. ❜

❛ Now I know what I was born for. ❜

❛ There’s a light in all of us, trying to get free. ❜

❛ There is nobody innocent here. ❜

❛ Look who’s digging their own grave. ❜

❛ Come a little closer, if you dare. ❜

❛ Family defines you, even if it demands sacrifice. ❜

❛ History does strange things to dead women. ❜

❛ I can’t believe the things I’ve done. ❜

❛ Hubris is a bitch. ❜

❛ It’s all in your head. ❜

❛ I keep my visions to myself. ❜

❛ We could be heroes. ❜

❛ Take my hand, and I’ll protect you. ❜

❛ Open your eyes. This is the revolution. ❜

❛ I am so much more than they told me I was. ❜

❛ Let me be your muse. ❜

❛ I’m not just a pretty girl. ❜

❛ Your fear of looking stupid is holding you back. ❜

❛ I wish I could be the perfect daughter. ❜

❛ I am not who I was before. ❜

❛ I won’t just be a puppet on a string. ❜

❛ If I can still breathe, I’m fine. ❜

❛ Straighten up, little soldier. ❜

❛ Am I a monster, or a victim myself? ❜

❛ This isn’t the way normal people live. ❜

❛ Your impression of me is wrong. ❜

❛ I wish I could let all this anger go. ❜

❛ I wasn’t born to be soft and quiet. ❜

❛ If I hadn’t fallen, I wouldn’t have met you. ❜

❛ Maybe there’s a hero in me after all. ❜

❛ I am happy anywhere that I can see the ocean. ❜

❛ They should be terrified of you. ❜

❛ I have seen the future. ❜

❛ Let go of the illusion that it could’ve been different. ❜

❛ My father is a good man. ❜

❛ I went to war with myself for you. ❜

❛ I care too much in a world that cares too little. ❜

❛ If it makes you happy, then it’s not a waste of time. ❜

❛ Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes. ❜

❛ You make everyone around you feel seen. ❜

❛ If you feel nothing, then why are you shaking? ❜

❛ Let’s run somewhere far away. ❜

❛ You carry your last name like a burden. ❜

❛ You are at war, even in your dreams. ❜

❛ We met for a reason. ❜

❛ I designed my own catastrophe. ❜

❛ You and I are the same thing. ❜

❛ Never let another soul tell you what to fear. ❜

❛ I have always loved the sea. ❜

❛ I didn’t say I liked it — I said that it fascinated me. ❜

❛ You will never be forgiven. ❜

❛ No one ever really dies. ❜

❛ Your son is gone. ❜

❛ Death must exist for life to have meaning. ❜

❛ Your mouth is full of white lies. ❜

❛ Loving me is a death sentence. ❜

❛ There is a thunderstorm inside of you. ❜

❛ Beauty is a weapon. ❜

❛ You haven’t even seen my bad side yet. ❜

❛ How do I stop the guilt? ❜

❛ I am a victim of introspection. ❜

❛ Love is what gives me strength to survive. ❜

❛ There is nobody innocent here. ❜

❛ You’ve seen too much too young. ❜

❛ I am not of mortal men. ❜

❛ Tell me what it’s like to conquer. ❜

❛ I like who I’m becoming. A lot. ❜

❛ I don’t believe in promises anymore. ❜

❛ Parents kill more dreams than anybody. ❜

❛ You are woven into my veins. ❜

❛ You are a diamond. They can’t break you. ❜

❛ I must not hope. I must not cry. ❜

❛ It’s no wonder that you can’t sleep — you’re haunted. ❜

❛ You are made of destructive magic. ❜

❛ You are so unique. ❜

❛ I myself am a haunted house. ❜

❛ You comfort others with the words you want to hear. ❜

❛ You’ll find love, kid. It exists. ❜

❛ You talk like a book. ❜

❛ You are one of God’s few mistakes. ❜

❛ I’m not capable of saving you. ❜

❛ Curiosity often leads to trouble. ❜

❛ I have crossed oceans of time to find you. ❜

❛ I can do this. Even if I can’t, I have to. ❜

❛ I can’t go back there! ❜

❛ Forests have secrets. It’s practically what they’re for. ❜

❛ Can you remember who you were? ❜

❛ Are you proud of who you have become? ❜

❛ I see in you an old soul with young eyes. ❜

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme #rpc help

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poisonlove · 10 months

Text

Blood and Love | t.c

Tara was aware of the secret that haunted her sister: being related to Billie Loomis.

But she could have never expected to receive a late-night call that would change the course of her life.

I enter the hospital room with my heart racing wildly in my chest. My breath is ragged as I search for Tara's gaze. When her eyes lift and meet mine, I see fear and relief mingling in them.

—T/n—she whispers, her voice like a fragile thread of silver holding together tumultuous emotions.

I approach her bed with determined steps, though my insides are a storm of emotions. I sit beside her, my gaze fixed on her as if I want to shield her from any harm. I gently take her hand, trying to convey a sense of security through the touch.

—Tara, how are you?—I ask with a soft voice laced with concern. Her lips curve into a muted smile, but I still see the shadow of fear in her eyes.

Tara gazes at the hospital ceiling as if seeking comfort in its simple whiteness. —T/n— she begins, her voice trembling, —it was such a strange and terrifying call.— She takes a deep breath before continuing. —The phone rang, and I answered without thinking too much. There was this distorted, almost mechanical voice asking me unsettling things.—

I look at her, my eyes fixed on her, trying to imagine what she must have faced. —What did it ask you?— I inquire cautiously, dreading the answers that might come.

Tara nervously wets her lips. —It asked me how I was... and then it asked about my mother.— Her voice cracks slightly, and I sense her fear through her words. —It said it was watching me and my mother. It was so unsettling, T/n. It made me feel like I was being observed.—

I squeeze her hand with a bit more strength, trying to convey my silent support. —You must have been so scared—I say empathetically, feeling anger course through my veins. I wish I could confront the responsible person with my own hands, but now my role is to be there for Tara.

Tara nods with teary eyes, tears pooling in them. —And then... then the questions got creepier. It asked me what I thought about Steb.— She sighs, and I know it's a delicate topic. —Steb is the movie that... well, it's about everything that happened with my mother. It was a terrible part of my life.—

Her words shake me, but I keep holding her hand to offer my silent support. —Did you answer those questions?— I ask with curiosity and concern. I know it can't have been easy for her to confront these painful memories.

Tara nods, her voice trembling. —Yes, I answered. Then... then it happened. I heard a noise from the front door, and when I turned, he was there... Ghostface.— A tear rolls down her cheek and falls onto the hospital sheet. —He started shouting, saying terrible things. He was so menacing, T/n. He had a knife, and... and he hurt me.—

Anger and disgust well up inside me as I listen. I wish I could erase the horror she went through, make her fear vanish. I squeeze her hand even more, trying to transmit all the affection and support I feel. —We'll get you out of here, Tara. And together, we'll find a way to cope with all of this.—

Tara's tears stream down her face as she looks into my eyes, seeking comfort and security. I hold her hand affectionately, knowing I can't erase the past, but I can be here for her now, in this moment of fear and vulnerability.

The images before my eyes are a mix of pain and helplessness. I look at the oxygen tubes in Tara's nostrils, the bandages on her hand, and the wounds on her legs. Seeing her so vulnerable, so far from the strong girl I knew, tightens my heart.

I can't help but feel a lump in my throat as I watch her. My mind goes to the times we laughed together, the long and deep conversations we shared, and every moment I tried to hide what I felt for her. And now, here, seeing her like this, I feel even worse for never having found the courage to confess my feelings.

I pull the chair as close to her bed as possible, trying to offer some comfort with my proximity. I gently take her non-bandaged hand and give it a light stroke with my thumb. —Tara— I say softly, —I'm so sorry you're going through all of this.—

Her eyes shift to me, and even though they're teary, I still see strength in them. —Thank you, T/n— she murmurs gratefully. —You're here for me... and that means more than you can imagine.—

A sad smile forms on my lips as I try to find the right words. —I'm here because you matter to me, Tara. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now.— My heart beats hard in my chest, but I know now is not the time to confess everything.

I take a deep breath and try to push away the sadness that threatens to overwhelm me. —We're strong together, Tara. We'll face all of this together—My words are a commitment, a way to tell her that she'll never be alone in this fight.

I glance at her wounds again, and anger towards anyone who hurt her burns within me. But now, in this moment, my priority is to be there for her, supporting her and trying to bring some comfort to that pale face marked by fear.

Amber's entrance shatters the bubble of intimacy I tried to create around me and Tara. My gaze shifts towards her as she enters the room, but I can't help but notice the disdainful look she directs at me.

Her cutting words, laced with sarcasm, pierce the air. —Oh, look who's here. The shining knight in armor coming to rescue the damsel in distress— Her voice is a mixture of sarcasm and mockery, and I can feel the irritation she's trying to convey.

I deliberately ignore her, continuing to keep my gaze fixed on Tara. Amber can think whatever she wants, but now isn't the time for her jealousy games or taunts. I have an important person to support and protect.

Amber sits next to Tara and looks at her gently, trying to offer comfort with her gaze. I can see genuine concern in her eyes as she tries to be there for Tara. I nod slightly towards her, appreciating her effort to support my friend in such a difficult moment.

However, the sense of tension doesn't ease with Sam's arrival and the boy by her side. As soon as the boy enters the room, I immediately sense that something is off. His expressions, the way he looks around with a certain detachment... everything seems out of place.

Amber might not have noticed right away, but I can't stop watching this boy. Something about him makes me uneasy, and my attention is divided between him and Tara. I keep lightly holding Tara's hand, a silent sign of support, as I try to better understand who this boy is and what he's doing here.

Emotions swirl within me: concern for Tara, suspicion towards this boy, and a growing determination to protect my friend at all costs. I know this moment could be crucial, and I need to stay vigilant for any signs of threat that might come from him.

Sam approaches Tara with concern. —Tara, how are you? I'm so glad to see you.—

Tara smiles weakly. —I'm trying to be okay, Sam. Thank you for being here.—

Sam gestures towards the boy at her side. —This is Richie, my boyfriend. Richie, this is Tara.—

Richie smiles gently. —Hello, Tara. I'm glad to finally meet you.—

Tara returns the smile. —Hi, Richie. Thank you for coming.—

I take a step back, ready to leave them alone.

Tara urgently grabs my hand, looking at me with teary yet bright eyes. Her grip on my hand makes me pause. I look at Tara, noticing her determined expression. Words aren't needed; I can feel her need for me to stay here with her. With a reassuring smile, I nod slightly, indicating that I'll stay by her side.

—Maybe we should let her rest for a bit— Richie suggests, addressing Sam.

Sam agrees with a nod. —You're right. We'll see you outside, Tara. I'll go talk to Hicks.—

As Sam, Richie and Amber leave the room, I stay by Tara's side.

Tara timidly yawns. —Sorry, I suddenly feel so tired.—

I smile gently. —Don't worry, Tara. Maybe you should close your eyes and rest.—

Tara looks at me with sweet, indecipherable eyes. —T/n, could you... could you get in bed with me? I'd just... like to have someone close while I sleep.—

—Of course, Tara. It'll be my pleasure.—

With gentleness, I shift from the chair to the bed, careful not to disturb the bandages and tubes. I lie down beside Tara, keeping one arm under the pillow to prop myself up slightly. —Is this okay?—I ask, looking at her with concern.

Tara nods with a shy smile. —Yes, perfect. Thank you, T/n.—

Carefully, I wrap my arm around Tara, pulling her gently closer to me. We embrace tenderly, and the warmth of her body is reassuring. —Rest, Tara. I'll be here as long as you want.—

Tara closes her eyes slowly, relaxing into the embrace. —Thank you, T/n. You're truly amazing.—

—And you're an extraordinary person, Tara. Goodnight— I whisper.

As the embrace grows more intimate, tranquility fills the room. Tara can finally close her eyes and find some rest, knowing that T/n is there with her. Her breath grows calmer, and sleep gently envelops her as T/n remains by her side, protective and loving.

(...)

From the initial attack to the current situation, many weeks have passed, and things have changed drastically. The sense of normalcy has been disrupted, and trust among us has been shaken. It's hard to believe that the people I've known for so long could harbor such dark secrets.

Relationships have shifted, and every look, every word seems to be under a magnifying glass. Mindy, with her keen horror enthusiast spirit, has only fueled the existing suspicions. Whenever someone seems to step out of line, her playful voice becomes an eerie reminder of the truth lurking beneath the surface.

And then there was that conversation where she excluded Liv from suspicion. Her playful tone only heightened the tension. But in the end, every laugh was accompanied by a shade of doubt. All of us are trying to decipher the puzzle, but the pieces seem to keep changing shape.

I find myself in a situation where I need to keep an eye out for anyone who might be hiding something. The friendship we had shared has become fragile, and there's a sense of isolation I can't ignore. I wish things could go back to how they were before, but I know that reality is much more complex now.

I find myself wandering amidst doubts and uncertainties, trying to balance my fear with the need to uncover the truth. Trust has been compromised, but I hope we can find a way to overcome this situation together. Amidst suspicions and tensions, there's still a part of me clinging to the idea of restoring normalcy among us, even though the future seems dark and unpredictable.

The tension seemed to increase with each passing day, and the sense of paranoia was taking over everything. Sam, in particular, seemed more paranoid than I had ever seen her. I was deeply concerned for her, but I understood that the environment we were involved in could make even the closest people doubt.

The arrival of the old survivors of Steb in the town of Woodsboro had triggered a series of even more bewildering events. The shadow of the past seemed to envelop everything, and there was an unsettling feeling in the air. Fear was growing as we tried to figure out if this was just a coincidence or if there was a deeper connection to what we were facing.

Wed, who had feelings for Tara, was one of the initial suspects. However, fate seemed to have other plans for him. The arrival of Ghostface had led to a tragic ending for Wed and his mother, Sheriff Judy Hicks. The news of their deaths had hit all of us, and the sense of threat was reaching new levels.

My mind was a mix of worry, anger, and confusion. As I tried to navigate through suspicions, new clues, and old ghosts, I knew we had to find a way to cope with all of this together. The truth was still buried beneath a layer of secrets and lies, but we had to stay united and determined to uncover what was really happening in Woodsboro.

As I stood at the crime scene with Sam, something in the context seemed off. Observing the evidence, the atmosphere was growing even more eerie, as if there was something escaping our notice. A sense of concern grew within me, and thoughts of Tara only intensified it.

That's when I felt a shiver down my spine, like an alarm indicating that something was wrong with Tara. My eyes landed on Riley, the cop, who was approaching. Without a second thought, panic gripped me, and I ran towards him, my eyes wide with fear.

—Riley!— I called, my voice filled with anxiety. —You have to help us, you have to come to the hospital with us. Tara is in danger, I feel that something's wrong.—

Sam joined me shortly after, and together we appealed to Riley. We asked for his help sincerely, begging him to come to the hospital with us. His decision seemed to come without hesitation, agreeing to accompany us without asking questions.

Without wasting time, we headed to the hospital with Riley by our side. The run seemed endless as anxiety grew within me. Tara needed us, and I knew I couldn't allow anything to happen to her. As the tension in the air grew denser, I knew we were doing everything we could to face this challenge together, hoping to protect Tara from whatever threat surrounded her.

As we were on our way in the police car, my phone suddenly rang. My anxiety reached its peak as I checked the caller ID, and my heart filled with relief when I saw Tara's name on the screen. With a trembling breath, I quickly answered.

—Tara?— I called out, trying to keep calm despite my heart still racing. Then I heard her voice, fragmented by sobs and tears. —T/n... help— she said, and her fragile voice broke my heart.

—Tara, I'm here— I responded with a gentle and concerned voice. —We're on our way to the hospital. Stay strong.— As I continued to talk to her, my mind was filled with anguish and determination. I needed to get to her, I needed to protect her from whatever was threatening her.

And then, as Tara's words continued to flow between tears and sobs, she revealed something that left me speechless.

—I don't want to die—she whispered, and the intensity of her emotions hit me like a punch in the gut. —And especially not without ever telling you how... how much I've been in love with you for so long.—

Her words resonated within me, and the world seemed to pause for a moment. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but the sound of her broken voice was real and sincere. My heart was filled with conflicting emotions: concern for Tara, anger towards whoever hurt her, and surprise in the face of her revelations.

I apologize for the confusion. In this situation, with Ghostface present next to Tara, the idea of diverting Ghostface's attention was even more critical.

—Tara— I said firmly, —try to keep Ghostface engaged. Ask him questions, make him lose time.—

The anxiety I felt was growing even more, but I knew this was the only possible option. Tara had to do her best to keep Ghostface focused on her and out of suspecting that we were coming to save her. Our priority was to protect her, and every second counted in this critical situation. As the car headed towards the hospital, I knew we were facing a challenge that required calmness, courage, and collaboration.

—I'm coming to you, Tara— I reassured her, trying to convey all my determination and affection through my words.

—I won't let anything happen to you. And as for what you said... we can talk about it when I'm there. For now, hang in there.—

The car continued to rush towards the hospital, and Tara's words stayed with me, a fragile thread of connection between us growing amidst all this confusion and fear. We had to face this situation together, protect the truth, and above all, protect each other.

As we stepped into the elevator, the tension in the air was palpable. Sam received a call from Tara, and our hearts skipped a beat as we heard Ghostface's distorted voice on the other end of the line. His words, "Tara or her boyfriend," echoed in our ears like a dark threat. Anxiety mingled with anger as we listened to those sinister words.

I saw Sam frantically press the button for Tara's floor, her face expressing determination and a sort of challenge towards Ghostface. When I heard his taunting grin and her bold response, I couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for her strength. It was clear she was trying to buy time, to keep Ghostface at bay as much as possible.

—Maybe I'm wasting your time, asshole— Sam said firmly, openly defying Ghostface.

The elevator doors opened in a moment of palpable tension. The cop, Riley, had managed to intervene, firing towards Ghostface. The echo of the gunshot filled the air, as fear and adrenaline seemed to mix in a whirlwind of emotions. The bullet missed the target, but its effect was tangible: Ghostface moved away from Tara, momentarily distracted by the sudden threat.

Without hesitation, Sam and I rushed towards Tara. The adrenaline coursing through our veins fueled every step we took. In an instinctive move, I lifted Tara in my arms as if she were a bride, holding her gently yet firmly. The sensation of her fragile body in my arms made me feel a mix of protectiveness and urgency. We needed to get to the elevator, away from Ghostface and any danger threatening us.

Richie, who had been assisted by Riley, joined us as we headed towards the elevator. The cop ensured that the situation was under control, allowing us to focus on Tara. The path to the elevator seemed endless, but each step took us further away from the threat.

Tara clung to me in the embrace, and I felt her ragged breath against me. The warmth of her body against mine reassured me that she was safe, that we were finally moving towards a place where she could receive proper care.

The sensation of her embrace strengthened my commitment to keeping her safe, to doing everything in my power to make her feel protected.

Finally, we reached the elevator, and the doors opened for us. As the elevator closed, I noticed that Riley wasn't entering with us. I barely heard his words— "the head"—a warning that seemed to escape his lips in a breath. His next move was clear: he loaded his weapon and headed towards Ghostface, ready to confront the threat directly.

The emotions that swept through my body at that moment were a mix of apprehension and admiration. Riley was risking his life to face the danger and protect us. His determination struck me deeply, and I felt a knot of gratitude tighten in my throat. We were all united in this challenge, each with our role to play in ensuring our safety.

As the elevator continued to descend, I knew that Tara's fate, all of our fates, hung by a thread. But we were determined to do everything in our power to come out of it, to defeat Ghostface and shed light on all this darkness. Holding Tara even tighter, I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to gather courage and hope as we headed into the unknown.

Sitting in Tara's hospital room, Sam and I found ourselves in a quiet corner. I looked at Tara with concern and said firmly—Tara, I know you want to get out of here as soon as possible, but you have to consider your safety. Running away might be the best solution right now.—

Tara looked at Sam and then at me, anxiety evident in her eyes. —I know I just want to forget all this— she said with a trembling voice, —but it seems so risky to stay here. What if Ghostface finds us again?—

—I understand— Sam responded—but maybe we should consider the possibility of leaving the town for a while. We could go somewhere where Ghostface won't easily find us.—

Just as we were about to leave the facility, we encountered Sidney Prescott and Gale, two survivors of experiences similar to ours.

Sidney followed Sam with concern.

—Running away might not be the solution. I've learned that Ghostface will always come back unless we confront him once and for all.—

—Are you asking us to help you kill him? Are you crazy?— Sam asked, confused.

—Hey, be careful how you talk, young lady. She's the original, you know? The first survivor of Ghostface...— Gale said, joining her friend.

The car with Richie at the wheel arrives. —Um... hi, I'm Richie... we've met before...— he closes his eyes and sighs. —Sam, T/n, get in... we're leaving.–

I looked at Tara with shining eyes and sighed as I opened the car door, sitting down beside her. —I'm sorry, but we have to leave town... it's for Tara's safety—Sam said, and then got into the car.

During the journey, I felt Tara's proximity. Every brush of her fingers against mine sent a shiver along my skin, and when I glanced at her, I noticed her shy and uncertain expression. Her gaze seemed to hold a world of unspoken thoughts.

My heart beat faster, knowing there was something she wanted to share with me. I accepted her touch, trying to convey reassurance through that contact. —Tara—I said gently, —if there's something you want to say, you can. We're here together.—

Her shyness was palpable, but she finally found the courage to speak. —I told you on the phone that I didn't want to die without telling you... without telling you that I've had feelings for you for a long time.— Her voice was barely a whisper, but her words resonated in my heart like a sweet and intense melody.

I kept my gaze on her, trying to communicate that I was listening carefully and that her words mattered to me. I felt a delicate smile form on my lips. —Tara—I replied, —you don't know how grateful I am to hear these words from you. I too... have had feelings for you for a long time.—

Our gazes met in a moment of deep connection. It was a secret we had kept hidden for too long, and now that we were facing this threat together, it seemed like the right time to confront our feelings as well. I felt that our bond was further strengthening in that moment, and I knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it all together.

I felt the gentle touch of Tara's bandaged hand on my cheek. It was such a sweet and intimate gesture that seemed to envelop us in a protective bubble, isolating us from the outside world. Despite her wounds, Tara still found the strength to seek my touch, to share that moment of intimacy.

I felt overwhelmed by emotions, by thoughts that I had kept hidden for so long. It was incredible how everything was coming together in that moment: the danger we were facing, the feelings we were revealing, and the sense of unity that was binding us even more.

Despite our intense private moment, I knew that Richie and Sam were there, curious eyes watching through the rearview mirror. I decided to ignore those glances and focus solely on Tara. Our connection was what mattered, and nothing could tarnish that shared intimacy.

I felt my heart beat with a certain urgency as I continued driving along the road. Every now and then, a small smile appeared on my lips, a reflection of the happiness and gratitude I was feeling in that moment. I couldn't predict what lay ahead in the future, but I knew that regardless of everything, we would face every challenge together, our bond growing stronger and our hearts open to whatever the future would bring.

Tara's smile was like a sweet melody, a prelude to what was about to happen. As she leaned in closer to me, I felt my heart beat with a mixture of excitement and tenderness. Her lips met mine in a sweet and deep kiss, and it seemed like the world around us dissolved, leaving just the two of us.

It was a kiss filled with emotions and meaning, a way to express everything we were experiencing in that moment. It was as if our feelings were being transmitted through that intimate contact, saying things that words alone couldn't convey. Her lips were warm and soft against mine, and I surrendered to that moment of sweetness.

During the kiss, I felt Tara shifting, as if she was trying to find a more comfortable position. It was then that I realized she was freeing herself from the seatbelt. I saw her straddle my lap, and I smiled against her lips. It was a bold and intimate gesture, but I felt that our bond made it perfectly natural.

We continued to kiss, our contact growing more intense and the world around us fading even more. We were united in that moment, connected by deep feelings and a bond that seemed to transcend time and space. Nothing else mattered except the two of us and the kiss we shared, a kiss that seemed to encapsulate everything we felt for each other. Richie's sudden cough interrupted our kiss, causing us to break apart with a mixture of embarrassment and smiles. Tara's cheeks were flushed, and her lips slightly swollen from the passionate kiss. We locked eyes, her gaze bright and full of emotion, and I felt my heart beat with uncontainable joy.

—Sorry— Richie said with a small embarrassed smile —but it seemed like you were so focused that I could have driven for miles without you noticing anything.—

Tara and I exchanged a knowing look and then burst into laughter together. It was true, we had become so lost in our own world that everything else seemed to fade away. Now, with our cheeks warm from embarrassment and our hearts still racing, we realized the absurdity of the situation.

—That was a bit embarrassing, wasn't it?— I said with a playful smile, turning to Tara.

Her lips curved into a shy smile as she nodded. —Yes, but it was also... nice.—

I felt a wave of affection for her as I knew that we had shared such an intimate moment together.

—Where's my inhaler?— Tara's worried voice filled the car as she began frantically searching her bag. I could feel the tension growing in the air as she looked anxiously inside her bag, hoping to find her precious inhaler. It was clear that she was realizing that her inhaler wasn't with her, and her agitation was palpable.

Sam turned slightly in her seat, looking at Tara with empathy. —Maybe you left it at the hospital by accident?— she suggested, trying to find a rational explanation.

Tara shook her head, continuing to search. —No, I'm sure I put it in my bag before leaving the hospital— she said with an anxious voice.

I turned to her, trying to convey a sense of calm. —Maybe it slipped between the seats?— I suggested, thinking of every possibility.

Tara leaned down to look under her seat, but she didn't seem to find anything. Her expression was a mix of frustration and concern. —I can't believe I forgot my inhaler— she said with a sigh.

—Take a deep breath— I said, trying to reassure her.

Tara suddenly brightened as she remembered something. —Wait, I have a spare inhaler at Amber's house!— she exclaimed with a hopeful expression.

The news shed light on the situation, and a sigh of relief spread through the car. Sam and I exchanged a reassuring look, reassured by the fact that there was a solution available. —Seriously?— I asked, seeking confirmation.

Tara nodded with a smile. —Yes, I remember leaving it there a while ago— she said. —It's been a bit chaotic, and I didn't think I'd need it out here.—

—That's good news then— Sam commented, visibly relieved.

—Absolutely— I agreed, gently taking Tara's hand and giving them both a reassuring smile. —Let's go to Amber's and get your spare inhaler. We don't want you to have any issues because of this situation.—

Tara nodded, visibly grateful for our support. The road ahead of us seemed less complicated now that we had a solution. Tara's safety and comfort were our priority, and we knew we would do everything in our power to ensure she was safe and well. With a lighter heart, we continued our journey to Amber's house, ready to face whatever challenges awaited us.

***

As soon as we entered Amber's house, we were greeted by a whirlwind of sounds and movements. Music blared loudly, while people laughed and danced. It was clear that a party was in full swing in honor of Wes, which seemed to add another layer of complexity to the already tense situation. As we moved through the crowd, I kept an eye on Tara, making sure she was okay amidst all the chaos.

All around us, people seemed oblivious to the tensions and worries that were happening in our lives. It was strange to see the normalcy of a party amidst all this, but somehow, it also helped to take our minds off the difficulties we were facing.

Richie spoke up, grabbing the attention of Sam and Tara. His voice cut through the music and the party noise. —A bit of attention, please— he said seriously. —Sam and Tara have been attacked twice by the killer. I think it's best that everyone goes home for your safety.—

There were various murmurs of disapproval, but they obeyed the request and started leaving the house, leaving only Tara's friends and Richie behind.

Tara looked at me with a small smile before turning to Amber. —I'm going to get my spare inhaler—she said. Amber nodded. —I'll come with you— she offered, walking alongside her toward the stairs.

I found myself walking down a corridor, seeking some space and tranquility. As I walked, I noticed Mindy in a rather interesting situation: she was kissing a girl on a couch.

Their intimacy seemed to contrast with the overall situation, but I knew that everyone was seeking a small escape from reality in different ways. The situation took a turn when Richie intervened, asking the girl to leave. It was clear that Richie was concerned about everyone's safety, and his reaction was understandable given the circumstances.

—Um, can someone accompany me to the basement?— Richie timidly asked, gripping the doorknob.

I shook my head, and Mindy smiled nervously. —You tried, handsome, but I'm not going down there—Mindy smiled, and Richie chuckled weakly. —You're right... you know, with the Ghostface situation...— he murmured before opening the door and descending the stairs.

I sat down next to Mindy, trying to create a small moment of calm and tranquility amidst all the tension. Our gaze landed on the screen, where "Steb," the movie he was playing, was showing. Mindy seemed to be enjoying making fun of the characters' choices and naivety, perhaps seeking a temporary escape from the troubled reality surrounding us.

Watching the movie together, I could almost forget for a moment the worries we were facing. It was as if we had entered a different world, far from the horrors we had experienced and the complex interpersonal dynamics emerging. The sound of laughter and the flicker of the screen seemed like an anchor of normalcy in a time when everything seemed topsy-turvy.

Mindy seemed to enjoy the playful aspect of the film, laughing heartily at some situations and character choices. Her laughter was a small glimmer of lightness in an otherwise tense situation. Observing Mindy, I realized how important it was to find ways to lighten the weight of the emotions we were dealing with.

The scene suddenly turned into overwhelming chaos when Mindy turned and found herself face-to-face with Ghostface, poised to strike. Without thinking twice, I instinctively moved between Mindy and the killer, taking a stab to the shoulder that made me emit a groan of pain. Confusion and fear gripped the room.

Mindy and Sam rushed toward me with concern, trying to calm me down and assess the severity of the wound. Blood was flowing from my shoulder, and the sensation of pain spread throughout my body.

Tara and Amber joined the scene, with Tara struggling on crutches due to her injuries. Her eyes expressed concern as she approached me, trying to understand how badly hurt I was.

Amber, on the other hand, observed the scene with curiosity and suspicion. —I don't know what you were all doing, but I was with Tara— she said agitatedly.

Amidst all this, Richie made his sudden entrance. —Where the hell were you?— Sam asked him agitatedly, looking at him with panic. —I was getting a beer! But no one wanted to come with me— he muttered agitatedly.

The situation became even more tumultuous when Liv entered the room again, this time crying out of stress and fear. Her hands were stained with blood, an image that struck all of us with a sense of terror and unease. It was evident that the situation was spiraling out of control, and danger seemed to be surrounding us from all sides.

—Stay back!—Amber whispered, and Liv continued to cry. —I found Chad— she said amidst tears.

—Chad?—Sam asked timidly.

—You're a damn liar!—Amber said with disgust.

—No!—Liv denied, shaking her head.

—You're the killer!— Richie said.

—No, it's not me...— Liv mumbled in panic.

—Liv, stop— Amber said, extending her hands toward Liv.

—Liv, stop!— Amber repeated impatiently.

—Fuck you, Amber. I'm not the damn killer—Liv muttered, emphasizing each word.

My eyes landed on Amber's hand, disappearing behind her, retrieving something. —I know— Amber replied, and my eyes widened when I saw Tara's best friend place a bullet in the middle of Liv's forehead.

—Welcome to Act Three— Amber said, pointing the gun at me.

Mindy, who was close by, struck Amber's arm, deflecting the shot.

The shoulder wound was painful, but the adrenaline pumping through my veins gave me the strength to scoop Tara up and seek shelter. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Sam and Richie heading toward the basement, while Mindy seemed to be busy distracting Amber. It was an atmosphere of chaos and panic, but I had to focus on keeping Tara safe and addressing the situation.

With quick and silent steps, I climbed the stairs to the upper floor, carrying Tara with me. We found refuge in a room, and without hesitation, we squeezed ourselves into a relatively small closet. As my heart raced, I placed a hand over Tara's mouth to quiet her and urged her to slow her breath. The silence in that cramped space was stifling, but I knew it was necessary to avoid attracting the killer's attention.

I felt Tara's rapid heartbeat against my hand, and her eyes were filled with fear.

—Tara, I know you want me to stay here with you, but I need to go down and try to resolve the situation outside.—

Tara shook her head. —No, T/n, I can't let you go. I'm afraid you'll get hurt, that you might end up like Wes.—

I gently held her face in my hands. —Tara, I promise I'll be careful. I don't want to put myself in danger, but I also have a duty to help others. We need to find a solution to this situation.—

Tara squinted her eyes slightly. —I don't care about the others right now, I only care about you. I don't want to lose you.—

I held her hand and looked into her eyes. —Tara, I understand how worried you are, but I can't let anyone get hurt. I'll try to come back to you as soon as I can. You have to promise me that you'll stay safe here.—

—I can't promise that if I don't know what will happen. T/n, I don't know what I would do if something happened to you—Tara said with a trembling voice.

—Listen, I know it's difficult, but I have faith in you. If something goes wrong, try to find a safe place to hide. And when I come back, we'll be together again. Don't let fear make you take irrational decisions.—

Our gaze locked, and in the silence filled with emotions, Tara leaned closer to me. Our breaths mingled, and I felt her gentle touch on my cheek as she drew closer. Her kiss was intense, as if she wanted to convey everything she was feeling at that moment.

I felt every part of me respond to that needy and meaningful kiss. It was as if we wanted to share everything we felt for each other, in case we didn't have another chance. Our lips moved with passion and tenderness, and as we parted, I could read everything in her glistening eyes.

—Come back to me— she whispered, and I could hear the concern and longing in her voice.

—I promise I'll be back— I replied, trying to convey all the determination and affection I felt.

We exchanged an intense and meaningful gaze before I slowly pulled away to descend the stairs. I had a mission to complete, but the thought of Tara and her warm embrace would accompany me in every step I took.

I hurriedly descended the stairs.

The scene in front of me was unfolding incredibly fast and violent. Confusion mixed with horror as Sam pointed the gun at Amber, Sydney urged her to shoot, and Richie approached with determined steps.

My heart was racing as I tried to comprehend what was happening.

—Thank God you're okay— Richie's words resonated in the room, and I felt myself freeze. With wide eyes, I helplessly witnessed the horrifying scene: the knife lodged in Sam's side, Richie embracing her, making the situation even more dreadful. —Because I wanted it to be me to kill you—Sam whispered almost breathlessly.

Richie's gaze shifted to me.

—Don't move, T/A— I remained frozen in place as I saw him aiming the gun at me.

Sydney stared at me in panic.

Richie handed the gun to Amber, causing her to point it at Sydney's temple. —Come here if you don't want me to kill Tara— Amber whispered seriously.

Reluctantly, I approached.

Amber struck me in the face with the gun's butt, causing a cut on my eyebrow.

—I can't believe it worked...— Richie said, smiling, revealing the inhaler that Tara had lost. —I know... it's a pity it's me— Richie said with gleaming eyes, tossing the inhaler to the ground. —But it was the best thing for the movie— he added, using a voice distorter.

—This isn't a damn movie— Sam muttered through clenched teeth. —I know... but it will be— Richie said, smiling.

—Right, Amber?— Sam's ex-boyfriend asked playfully.

—Absolutely, darling. Third-act bloodbath. Done—Amber said, smiling, pressing the gun against Sydney's temple. —Killers revealed. Done— Amber murmured next, looking at me with gleaming eyes.

Pouting, the girl aimed the gun at my legs and shot me.

The pain hit me suddenly, like a lightning bolt tearing through my body. My legs gave way beneath me, and I fell to the ground, feeling the sharp, throbbing burn radiating through me. The entire world seemed to slow down, and my breath became labored as I tried to grapple with that excruciating sensation.

My hands clenched around my legs, searching for any point of support. Tears welled up in my eyes from the pain and surprise. I couldn't believe what was happening. I looked at Amber, trying to fathom the reason behind that violent and senseless act.

—Why?— I managed to whisper, my voice cracking from pain and confusion. My mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions: anger, fear, betrayal. I couldn't fathom how anyone could inflict such pain on another human being.

I hoped someone would intervene, put an end to this madness. As the agony consumed me, my gaze met Sydney's. I pleaded for help with my eyes, imploring someone to halt everything before irreparable harm was done.

—Let's take them to the kitchen— Amber murmured, ignoring my question. I struggled to stand and followed them, blinded by pain.

—Someone needs to save the franchise— Richie exclaimed with enthusiasm. —No one's made a Steb film after the first— Richie pushed Sam. —No one at all— he affirmed, giving me a kick.

I gritted my teeth and tried to hold back tears.

Amber jumped up and down excitedly. —Darling, could you fetch Gale?—Richie asked kindly, pointing the gun at Sam. —I'm going!— the psychopath muttered enthusiastically.

Sam tried to escape, but Richie stopped her.

—Sydney Prescott...— Richie murmured with a smile on his lips. —You know... I'm a big admirer of yours— he timidly exclaimed.

—Screw you, psycho— Sydney retorted venomously.

—Did you watch the latest Steb?— Richie asked, tilting his head. —I don't like horror movies— Sydney replied.

—Well, anyway, it was awful... Is it possible they don't take us seriously because we're enthusiasts? Is it possible they won't listen to us?— Richie said angrily. —So we decided to lend a hand... you know... a real Steb is based on real events— he added, pointing the gun at Sam.

Amber arrived with Gale and had her sit on a chair.

—Did you do all this to make me the hero of your stupid movie?— Sam asked disgustedly.

—Darling... you're not the hero... you're the villain— Richie said playfully.

—The daughter of Billy Loomis, haunted by eerie visions of her killer father— Richie murmurs, placing the tip of the gun against Sam's throat. —Sydney Prescott killed your father... you... did all of this to bring her back to Woodsboro—Richie smiles at Sam.

—Do you know what the main problem with Steb films is?— Amber says innocently, playing with the gun.

—That there's no Michael Myers or Jason Voorhees— Amber moves the gun along Sydney's face. —No recurring villain in all the movies— she states with a smile.

—But the illegitimate daughter of the original villain? Now that's one damn good villain—she whispers with a chuckle.

—How do you know?—Sam asked.

—Darling... this is a small town, and your mother is a drunk— Amber said, amused.

—I met Richie on Steb forums... I immediately realized we think alike... I had this obsession when my parents bought this house— Amber said.

—Wasn't it difficult to find you in Modesto— Richie sneered. —Sleeping with you wasn't hard either— he muttered weakly.

—Fuck you!— Sam exclaimed angrily. —So you're just quoting the original— Richie said with amusement.

—We didn't only need you, Sam... but we had to bring back the main Steb characters— Amber said.

My eyes shifted to the knife on the table.

—You can't have Halloween without a Jamie Lee!—Amber said excitedly.

—That's why we had to kill Riley— Richie said, —for once we enthusiasts will win.— Richie approaches Sydney. —And I'm sorry, Sid. But you'll have to die... we can't let you survive anymore... it would be ridiculous— Richie muttered.

— Amber, go get Tara from the closet. We need to set up the bodies— Richie said with a smile.

Amber hesitated in place.

—Did you put her in the closet?— she timidly asked, and Richie gave her a furious look. —No, you were supposed to! Damn it! Go find her!—the guy said, clearly angry.

The phone began to ring.

—It's for you— I said with a half-smile on my lips. —Yes... as if Tara's limp was the problem— Richie said, amused.

—Amber, look for her everywhere! She couldn't have gone far!— Richie yelled, pointing the gun at Sam.

—I can't find her!— Amber's screams echoed in the distance.

Sounds of struggle in the distance distracted Richie. After Sam tackled him to the ground and attempted to disarm him, she finally managed to take the gun from him and escape to another room, taking one of the two Ghostfaces with her.

Meanwhile, Gale and Sydney confronted Amber, given my inability to walk. Despite their hostile and dangerous opponent, Gale and Sydney embarked on confronting Amber and trying to control the situation. With a seemingly inexplicable force of will, I managed to lift myself off the ground despite the searing pain. I grabbed a bottle of hand sanitizer and, without wasting time, hurled it at Amber with all the remaining energy I had. The liquid hit her body, and I heard her scream in pain as she recoiled, temporarily defeated. Gale and Sydney seized the opportunity, stepping in with determination to fight her. At that moment, I realized that my determination was becoming a crucial factor in this battle against Amber.

—I didn't do anything! It was his idea!—Amber exclaimed in panic after being cornered.

—You killed Riley, my friend—Gale said, aiming the gun at Amber.

—And he cried like a child— Amber said with a smile, provoking Gale's anger.

The fight continued, and after being cornered once again, Gale decided not to fall for it and shot at Amber. The girl fell against the kitchen and caught fire.

Sydney put an arm around my waist and led me out, seeing that Sam had killed Richie in the meantime.

Still in shock from the unexpected turn of events, a piercing scream echoed from the kitchen. I turned around in panic and saw Amber, half-burned, advancing towards me with a knife in hand. Everything seemed to be heading for the worst, but a sudden gunshot rang through the air, and Amber fell to the ground, motionless.

—Don't touch my girlfriend, you bitch— Tara said breathlessly, gripping the gun tightly.

Comments please

#jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream #love #guns n roses #gunshot #sydney prescott

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amusingmusie · 2 months

Note

Is Evie canon to the Yours Truly universe? I absolutely love her already, and I can only imagine the kind of hell she put poor Nel through growing up. Al would be so proud. Good on Nel for starting a law firm, too! That’s our queen!!!

But also the general heartbreak that Nel must have felt as every day Evie looked a little bit more like the man Nel thought she knew. Just looking at her daughter one day only to see someone completely different but so familiar staring back. :(

I’m also so curious how the realization that Nel was pregnant went down. Not well probably. Was it before or after Al died? How would Al have reacted if he was alive (He very clearly didn’t want kids). How on earth would he have behaved around a pregnant Nel?? Also not well probably.

And of course I can’t forget about the extended family. Where’s Grace, my beloved, in all of this??? The absolute agent of chaos that she is, she and Evie would cause so much havoc — I just know it. And I can’t tell if Marie would be ecstatic up in heaven or rolling around in her grave at the news lol. I’m assuming by this point in time she’d have passed away, but to know she just missed the big news — damn. Poor Grandma Marie. Nobody thought Al had it in him 😔

Sorry for the giant block of text lol. I adore Evie and she’s got my brain in overdrive rn. Your writing is amazing, and Yours Truly is genuinely such a wonderful read! Also don’t feel pressured to answer any of the questions if you don’t want to or if it’s spoiler territory — I just had to get all that off my chest :)

Stay safe out there and take care of yourself!!

No PLEASE send me asks about Evie I fucking love her and barely ever get to talk about her because I've kept her so private for so long!

Evie is "canon" to Yours Truly but not in the way you might think. She is never going to be born, she doesn't exist, but she will eventually have a small cameo in a later chapter. The rest is a mysteryyyyyyy for now. However, I love thinking about the au where she's alive since I LOVE family drama and angst.

The girl is a menace. She's a strange mix of Darla Dimple, Jessica Lovejoy, and Heather Chandler but also can be oddly endearing? There’s a strange innocence to her. Yes, she did stab that man but she hugs her momma extra tight when that haunted look comes over her face. There are a lot of layers to the silly gay girl that VERY few people will ever see let alone notice and process.

If Al was around for Nel actually being knocked up and aware of it, he'd be annoyingly overbearing. 100% he'd treat her like she's made of glass even though she's trying to bite his throat out for being so condescending. It would be a giant clusterfuck of Nel randomly crying cuz her hormones are raging and she’s too big to bend over and buckle her shoes, and then Alastor is staring at her like she’s insane because it’s Nel, crying. They’d make it work though. Well, in another universe at least, because in the drabble-I-posted-verse uuuhh….he wasn’t really around to know that he has a child kicking around on earth.

But heeeeey she and Grace are BFFS! They definitely gang up on Nel together while she smokes 28 packs of cigs with a thirst for blood in her eyes. Little shits of a feather flock together.

If Marie was around, she would SPOIL that child. Her only grandchild, and a little girl??? Whatever Evie desired Marie would deliver and you wouldn’t be able to tell that child no without her granny defending her. It’s probably for the best that they never met since Evie would be worse than she already is.

Thanks for asking more about her cuz I like to yap :D I can't really say too too much since I don't wanna accidentally spoil YT, but man do I adore this strange child of whimsy.

#my asks #shoutout to poor Gem for listening to me holler about this child for so long in DMS

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 2 months

Note

Alright, and here's request #2

May I ask for Fives and Fox

with Prompt 14: Last Words

Where Fives is haunting Fox after his death. Where "the nightmares are over" is twisted to "the nightmare has just begun".

Girl, you helped me come up with this, you know what to write, lol

❤️ - @vodika-vibes

In Your Head

Fox

Summary: Fox has a hole in his memory that he can't seem to fix, and when he starts hallucinating about the clone he killed, it leads to dire consequences.

Pairing: none

Characters: Fox, Thorn, ghost!Fives

Tags & Warnings: character death, alcohol, drunkenness, hallucinations, paranoia, minor suicidal ideation, violence, whump

Word Count: 6.2k

Author's Note: First of all, I'm going to apologize for how long it's taken me to write one of these requests. Second, all of the requests are still sitting in my ask box. I haven't gotten rid of any of them and I still plan on writing all of them. It's just gonna take me a bit. To be honest, this fic is more Fox whump than Fives whump, but eh, it's still whump and it still includes one of the 501st boys, so that counts, right? As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @beating-a-dead-plot

Fox sits hunched over his desk and anxiously raps his stylus against the side of his data-pad. He's read the report five times now and each pass yields the same results. His CC number is littered throughout the paragraphs, but for the life of him, he can't remember any of it. He looks up at the chronometer again and shakes his head. Time has moved, but he hasn't. He's been sitting here at his desk doing flimsi-work since early morning, but the report states otherwise.

It's not just the strange lost time that concerns Fox either, or the fact that his CC number is in a report. That's normal. What bothers him about this report is the fact that it clearly states in paragraph four, line six, that he shot and killed a clone. And no matter how hard he racks his brain, he can't remember it. He hasn't moved from his desk, and yet, the timestamp puts the incident at an hour ago. An hour ago he was at his desk. An hour ago he was doing flimsi-work.

Fox raps his stylus faster and taps his foot to match the rhythm, the nervous energy in his body escaping through the repetitive movements. He wouldn't shoot a clone without a reason, would he? The Coruscant Guard has stunned countless rowdy and reckless, and even dangerous clones, but a brother doesn't shoot another brother with the intent to kill. That's not part of their culture. Even bad clones deserve to explain their actions, but those are few and far between.

It must be a mistake. A typo. There has to be a logical explanation as to why his CC number is in the report even though he wasn't there. Still, he has this odd sinking feeling scratching at the back of his mind that it might not be a mistake. The clone he allegedly shot was from the 501st, from Torrent Company. One of Rex's men. Fox sent a simple comm message to Rex, offering his condolence, but Rex's silence worries him. It's not like Rex to leave a comm unanswered.

Fox drops the data-pad onto his desk with a loud clack and his chair creaks when he leans back. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and brushes the damp curls out of his eyes. It must be a mistake. There is no other explanation. He doesn't have an explanation for the lost time, but there must be a reason for that as well. Maybe he fell asleep. It's not impossible since he doesn't get the best sleep. His caf is cold, so obviously time has passed since he last filled it.

The data-pad dings and Fox leans forward to see what the notification is for. He sighs and taps on the icon to open it, and his brows furrow as he reads the new information. A surveillance holo-recording of the incident is now available and has been attached to the report. Fox huffs. This should clear up everything. He taps the icon to play the recording and watches intently. It was probably some trigger-happy shiny that he'll have a stern talking to later on… but it's not.

Fox's breath hitches and his eyes widen. That's not some random corrie. That's him. That's his armor. He has the fleeting thought that someone stole his armor and impersonated him, but he quickly realizes he's still wearing it. He hasn't taken it off since he put it on this morning. Panic rises in his gut and he continues to watch the recording. He flinches at the moment he pulls the trigger. A blaster bolt leaving the barrel instead of a stun bolt. He killed him. He killed a brother.

That explains why Rex never commed him back. Rex's emotional plea, Fox don't, stabs him in the heart, turning his innocent condolence message into him just rubbing salt into an egregious wound. The report noted the clone killed as ARC-5555 – Fives – one of Rex's best. Fox only remembers the name because Rex sent him a holo-photo of his two new ARC troopers when they graduated. Rex was so proud. Then he lost one on Lola Sayu, and today, he lost the other.

Fox has seen and read enough. It was him, he knows that much, but he still doesn't remember being there. He doesn't remember aiming his blaster, or flicking the safety off, or giving a warning, or pulling the trigger. It's like he was sleep walking, even though not a single clone out of millions has ever been noted to do so on record. He finds it even more odd that he was on scene for the shooting and then left. It's not like him to leave a scene without getting statements or starting his report. Now that he thinks about it, he didn't even write this report. Who did?

Fox yells in frustration and kicks the leg of his desk. Why can't he remember? How could he forget he shot and killed a brother. How could he forget Rex's voice begging him not to? How could he forget leaving his office and coming back? Fox feels sick. Not only did he kill a brother, he killed one of Rex's. A beloved brother. With Rex's radio silence, he probably lost Rex too. Fox doesn't blame him. Not after watching the footage. He would hate himself too, and he does.

Fox pulls a ring of keys from his belt pouch and inserts one into the lock on the bottom desk drawer. It clicks and he pulls it open, revealing a small stash of alcohol resting against the back. The glass bottles clink as he searches for a specific one. Finding it, he pulls it out of the drawer and places it on his desk. He leans down to grab a glass, hesitates, then closes the drawer without taking it. He twists the cap off the bottle, grabs the neck, and tilts the opening to his lips.

"Fox?" Thorn whispers as he peeks into the dark office. "Are you in here?"

Fox groans in response. His torso rests on top of his desk and the side of his face lays on the cool surface with one hand loosely wrapped around an almost empty glass bottle.

Thorn sighs and shakes his head. "What are you doing, Fox?"

"Go away," Fox slurs. His body twitches at the sudden exertion.

Thorn ignores Fox's inebriated order and pulls up a chair to sit opposite Fox's desk.

"Talk to me," Thorn says.

"Nothin'... to talk about," Fox answers.

"You're drunk while on duty," Thorn says. He grabs the bottle out of Fox's loose grip and sets it out of reach. "Why don't we start with that?"

Fox slowly picks his head up to look at Thorn, and he struggles to keep it steady. "Usen'ye," he says, then lays his head back down onto the desk making the room stop spinning.

Thorn taps his fingers against the desk's surface next to Fox's head and Fox flinches at the magnified sound. "I read the report."

Fox groans, but this time with more indignation.

Thorn crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. "I've got all night."

"You're so… annoying," Fox slurs as he slowly picks his head back up to look at Thorn. "You know… that?"

Thorn smirks. "Part of my charm."

"Karking… banthas… have more charm," Fox says, his head swaying as he tries to keep it upright. "You're ugly… too."

Thorn rolls his eyes. "You're getting off topic."

"Why… are you… even here?" Fox asks. He reaches for the bottle and Thorn leans over to move it again.

"You killed a vod," Thorn says.

Fox huffs. "What... do you… know about it?"

"Nothing," Thorn says. "That's why I'm here. To talk to you about it, because clearly it's affecting you."

Fox reaches for the bottle again and Thorn moves it. "I'm… not effective."

"Yeah, I can see that," Thorn raises an eyebrow. "You can't even talk straight."

"Blow it out your… exhaust port," Fox sneers, then reaches for the bottle once more.

"Really?" Thorn asks, as he lifts the bottle up out of Fox's reach. "If I give you the bottle back, will you talk to me?"

Fox smirks through hooded eyes. "Sure."

Thorn places the bottle back down onto the desk and pushes it towards Fox. Fox grabs it, sits back in his chair, and shoots the last burning drops down his throat, then slams the empty bottle down onto the desk.

"Talk," Thorn says. "Why'd you kill a vod?"

Fox chuckles. "I don't know."

Thorn's eyes darken. "This isn't a game, Fox."

"Nah," Fox says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Games… are fun. This... This isn't..."

Thorn tilts his head to the side and studies Fox for a moment. Even drunk, Fox usually makes some sense, but this particular time he's making zero sense. It's not that hard of a question, but his avoidance in answering it is making Thorn worry. There's something Fox isn't telling him and he needs to know what it is in order to help him get out of this slump and back to normal. Having a drunk Marshall Commander leading the Coruscant Guard is going to get them nowhere fast.

"Fox," Thorn prods.

"Don't Fox me," Fox spits in response. "How'd you… like it… if I said your name? Thorn. Thorn. Thorn. Thorn–"

"Alright, I get it," Thorn interjects. "Just tell me what happened."

"I don't know," Fox lazily shrugs.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Thorn asks.

"I don't remember," Fox says.

"You don't remember shooting a vod?" Thorn asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Nope," Fox says, making a popping sound on the second consonant.

Thorn pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "You have to remember something? You killed him. Don't you remember that? Were you drunk then, too?"

"No, I wasn't drunk," Fox says, his agitation growing at the continued questioning. "I just don't remember!" He pounds his fists on the desk, making Thorn flinch.

"Easy, vod," Thorns soothes and reaches out a hand to try and calm him down. "It's okay."

"No!" Fox yells with a jerk as he weakly bats Thorn's hand away. "Is not. I shot… a vod. I killed… a vod, and I can't… kriffin' remember!"

Thorn realizes he's not going to get anywhere with Fox being this drunk and worked up, so he decides to cut his losses and try again later. "Get some rest," he says before getting up from his chair. He looks down at Fox's dilapidated state, shakes his head, then turns to leave.

"Bring me… more booze," Fox demands.

Thorn turns around and scoffs. "You don't need any more of that."

Fox grabs the empty bottle and throws it towards Thorn, but it hits the wall by the door instead and shatters into a million pieces. "Shabuir," Fox snarls.

Thorn sighs. "We'll talk again when you're sober." He turns back towards the door and leaves Fox alone in his office.

Fox grumbles and lays his heavy head back down against the cool desk. He's not really angry at Thorn, as annoying as he is. No. He's angry at himself. Angry that he can't remember what his own two hands did. Angry that he can't remember where his own two feet took him. Angry that his brain won't put all of the pieces together or fill in the blanks. Where did his memory go? Did it grow legs and walk away from him? Did it leave him or did he leave it? Is that even possible?

Fox would stay laying against his desk all night if he could, but the ache in his back is beginning to overpower his drunken haze. Part of getting old, he guesses. He needs to try and make it to his couch where he can stretch out and fall asleep. At least while asleep he won't have to think about it. That was the idea behind the alcohol in the first place; drink to forget, but it didn't have the effect he was hoping for. If anything, it only made it worse. Then Thorn butted in and ruined it.

Fox tries to peel himself off of his desk, but his body is heavy. He manages to sit up, but then slumps back into his chair, whacking his head against the back of it. He groans at the pain and rubs the spot. When he opens his eyes, the room is spinning, and it makes him feel sick. Well, sicker than he already felt before he was drunk. He chuckles to himself. The good stuff was really good. He hasn't been this drunk since he was a shiny new commander hot off Kamino.

Trying again, Fox plants his hands squarely on his desk and rocks to push himself out of the chair. He tries once and can't get it. He tries twice and still can't get it. He tries thrice and finally he's on his feet, although he uses a little too much force and falls forward onto the desk. Maybe it's better if he crawls to the couch instead of walking there. He lets the weight of his lower body slide the rest of him off the desk until he's sitting on the ground and leaning against the desk.

He leans past the desk and turns his head to see where the couch is, but he leans a little too far and slumps over onto the ground. He groans. This was a terrible idea. He wishes he could get Thorn to come back and carry him to the couch, but that would bruise his ego into an irreparable state. No, he has to make it on his own. With a little wiggle of his hips, Fox rolls himself onto his stomach and crawls towards the couch. Usually, it's closer, but right now it feels klicks away.

Maker, he's tired. Why did he have to put the couch so far away from his desk? Or better yet, why can't it come to him? You'd think someone would've invented a moving couch by now, but no, the Galactic Republic is too busy making clones to do anything of real use in his lifetime. And yet, Fox continues to crawl towards his couch, cursing it every time he scoots closer. With one final push, he makes it, but accidentally bumps his head against the leg. He curses it again.

Now, it's just a matter of hoisting himself up onto the stupid thing so he can finally go to sleep. Once again, something that used to be so trivial is causing him grief. Why is it so high up? Why is the floor so far down? Why won't the room stop spinning? He wishes he could steady himself long enough to get a grip, but his body is heavy from the alcohol. However, with a little more effort and a lot more cursing, Fox grabs one of the cushions, pulls himself up, and flops onto the couch.

Thank the Maker, he finally made it. Fox rolls off of his stomach and situates himself with his back against the back of the couch so he doesn't suffocate himself within the couch cushions. Although, at this point, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. He chuckles to himself about the thought. Thorn would kill him. He would find some way into the afterlife and kill him again for being such an idiot. Although, to him, it's a comforting thought; Thorn coming after him like that.

Even if Fox hates to admit it, Thorn is still his best friend. Some days they absolutely can't stand each other, but when push comes to shove, there's no one he'd rather have his back in this war. Perks of growing up together, he figures. Fox releases a wide yawn that makes his stomach churn, but he's happy that his body wants to rest. With a few slow breaths, he lets himself drift off to sleep, wondering if he'll wake up and finally remember or if his memory will still be adrift.

Fox groans as he stirs from his sleep. He slowly opens one eye and sees that it's still dark out, which means either he slept until the next evening or he barely slept at all. He doesn't feel drunk anymore, so maybe he did sleep for a while; an absolute miracle. Even more surprising is the fact that no one bothered him while he slept, which also means Thorn kept everyone away and covered for him. The idiot. He'll need to apologize and thank Thorn the next time he sees him.

Fox carefully shifts to sit himself up, holding the side of his head as it pounds from the hangover. He hasn't had a hangover like this in a very long time. He'll have to look at the label on the bottle and get himself another one of whatever it was. Blinking a few times to get rid of the glaze over his eyes, he looks around the room, but frowns when he sees the broken glass by the door. Oh yeah. I broke it. Guess he won't be buying another one of those anytime soon. What a shame.

With a deep breath, Fox hoists himself up off the couch and grabs the arm to steady his shaky legs. He doesn't feel woozy, but his body still feels heavy, like there are rocks in his head weighing him down. He rolls his neck, then his shoulders, and then arches his back to stretch it out. One of his vertebrae makes a popping sound and he groans. Even though he tried to lie down in a good position, couch-sleep is still not as nice as a bunk. He needs some ibuprofen.

Fox hobbles his way to the refresher connected to his office, and is, once again, thankful for the amenities he has access to as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. It would be embarrassing to walk down to the guard barrack's communal refresher to compose himself. Thorn would get a good laugh, though, the jerk. He'd say something stupid just to piss him off. But that's the game they play, because Fox has embarrassed Thorn on multiple occasions too.

Fox steps into the refresher without flipping the light switch on, and twists the faucet knob to run the water cold. He cups the rushing water in his hands and splashes it onto his face. The cool water feels good on his hot skin and soothes his throbbing headache. He does that a few more times, and then one last good splash that he smooths over his unruly curls. He pats his face with the towel and stares at himself in the mirror, except something about his reflection is… off.

Fox rubs the towel across his face again, thinking he has some water stuck in his eyes making his vision blurry, but the reflection still looks odd. He then uses the towel to wipe down the mirror, leaving small streaks of water where he swiped, but that doesn't clear it either. Refusing to play with it any longer, Fox opens the mirror cabinet and grabs the bottle of ibuprofen. He pops a few and swallows them dry, wincing as he feels them go down his throat, then closes the cabinet.

Hi Fox , a voice says.

Fox startles and stumbles back, crashing against the opposite wall with a loud thud. "Kriff, Thorn!" Fox exclaims. He turns his head towards the refresher door to rip Thorn a new one, but he's not there. "Thorn?" he calls, but there's no answer. He peeks his head out of the refresher to see if there's anyone in his office, but it's still dark and empty. It's just him. He's never had a hangover that made him hear things before… he thinks. Fox's heart races with adrenaline.

Fox , the voice says.

Fox flinches at the sound of his name, and whips his head around to try and figure out who's calling him, but there's still no one there. "Thorn," Fox says. "I swear to the Maker, I will kill you."

So, you like to kill, huh? the voice says.

Fox freezes, his blood running cold. He didn't just hear that, did he? The sound of another clone talking to him, but he's still alone in the refresher. His instincts are screaming for him to run and find Thorn, because clearly he's hallucinating, or sick, or dying, or all three at once. He shouldn't be hearing voices, or at least he doesn't think he should be hearing voices. Fox closes his eyes and takes a couple deep breaths to calm himself and just hopes that whatever it is will go away.

It's rude to ignore people, you know , the voice says. Especially dead people.

Yup, he's crazy. He's one hundred percent certified crazy now. Not only is he hearing voices, but he's hearing voices of the dead . What did he do while he was drunk and asleep? Conjure a demon? Summon a spirit? Invite a deity to chat over some caf? How did he even do that? The other option is that he's still plastered and is hallucinating being sober. Honestly, both ideas sound equally as insane, but do they really make any less sense than him hearing voices?

"Whatever you are," Fox begins with a nervous voice, "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm going back to bed now."

Fox pushes himself off the wall and walks towards the refresher door to leave, but it slides shut before he can exit. He stares at the closed door and takes another deep breath, then releases it slowly. He slides his hands over his holsters, but the blasters are missing. They must have fallen out while he was sleeping and he didn't notice. He kicks himself for being so absentminded to leave them on the couch, but in his defense there aren't many who'd attack him in his own office.

Fox runs his tongue across his teeth and puffs his chest out before turning around to face whatever it is that's messing with him, but when he does, there's no one else in the refresher besides him. He bites his lip and nods his head. It must be a dream. He's living in a dream and he can't wake up. That has to be the answer. There's no other explanation. Once he wakes up, he's going to find Thorn and make him get rid of all of his liquor, because this isn't worth the trip.

I'm still waiting , the voice says impatiently. Are you gonna answer me or not?

Fox grits his teeth and thinks for a moment. If he answers the voice of the dead, is something bad going to happen to him? It's not like his life could get any worse. He's a dog of the Republic, he's shot and killed a brother, and he's probably the most hated commander in the GAR. There's not much else they can do to him. Fox startles at a sudden realization. The voice of the dead… a dead clone. Voice of the dead… killed. Fox's heartbeat pounds ferociously in his ears.

He takes a few steps towards the sink and peers into the mirror, the same mirror where his reflection didn't look right. He was so groggy when he first came in the refresher that it didn't dawn on him what in the reflection was off, just that it didn't look right. He stares at his reflection, and tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he studies the image, but his eyes grow wide when he realizes that the reflection didn't follow the tilt of his head. He moves in closer.

Boo , the reflection says with a smirk.

"Kriffin' osik!" Fox screams and out of reflex he punches the mirror, cracking it. He heaves in his breaths and pulls his fist back from the mirror, his glove protecting his skin from getting cut by the broken shards.

The reflection sighs and side steps into the part of the mirror that isn't as broken. Really? the reflection asks.

Fox is on the verge of hyperventilating. Fear and adrenaline taking control of every muscle in his body. His reflection is talking to him. It's moving without him. But it's not even him. He can clearly see that now. Fox takes a moment to study the image in the mirror. The armor is white, like a shiny's, their head is shaven, they have a goatee, and an Aurebesh tattoo on their right temple not far from a small linear scar. Fox's jaw drops. It's him. It's the clone he shot and killed.

Figure it out yet? the reflection asks, almost bored.

"You're…" Fox tries to speak, but he's still unsure of what he's actually seeing.

The name's Fives , the reflection says while tapping his Aurebesh tattoo. You should remember, since you killed me.

Fox is speechless and wide-eyed. He feels sick to his stomach. He knows who Fives is, but he still doesn't remember shooting him. He's never met him, and the only images he has are of him in his ARC armor, not whatever it is he's wearing now. Fox thinks back to the recording that was attached to the report, and remembers seeing himself shoot the white-armored clone. He did find it strange at the time, and it made him wonder why, but not enough to hallucinate about him.

"This isn't real," Fox says as he backs away from the mirror. "You're not real! You're dead !"

The reflection snorts. What? No remorse? No, sorry I killed you?

"I don't remember killing you!" Fox yells, half in shock and half in self-defense. His back touches the hard durasteel wall and he slides down it until he's sitting on the floor.

Don't remember? the reflection asks. You shot me! How could you forget that?

Fox pulls his knees to his chest, clasps his hands over his ears, and squeezes his eyes shut. "Just leave me alone!" he yells again, trying to make the voice go away. "I said I don't remember!"

I'm not leaving , the voice says. Not until you remember what you did to me.

"Go away!" Fox practically screams. "Leave me alone!" His breathing becomes labored and he feels like he's going to pass out. "This is… a nightmare."

Oh, Fox , the reflection chuckles, then pushes out of the mirror and folds its arms to lean on the edge of the sink and stare down at Fox. Your nightmare has just begun.

The next rotation has Fox feeling insane. The voice inside the mirror isn't just a voice anymore. It's a full body apparition that follows him around wherever he goes. He can't even take a piss without that thing watching him. He still wonders if it's the actual Fives or if it's just a figment of his imagination; maybe the subconscious part of his brain conjured it up because of the guilt he feels for killing the clone. He wants to tell Thorn about it, but even Thorn has limits on disbelief.

Hour after hour, the apparition asks if he remembers killing it yet, and hour after hour, Fox still has the same answer – no. Maker, he wishes it would just take a hike and go haunt someone else, even if it's just for a couple of minutes. There's nothing worse than trying to work or sleep while it watches him from across the room with its dark, cold, dead eyes and smug expression. If this is the real Fives, then he doesn't understand why Rex liked him so much.

Although, today has been strangely quiet. The apparition is nowhere to be seen, or heard, and Fox is taking the much needed alone time to catch up on the reports he's been neglecting since it first appeared. It must have been a figment of his imagination brought on by stress or something along those lines. There's always a logical explanation for everything, or so he thinks. Fox looks up from his data-pad when he hears a soft knock on his office door frame.

"I brought you some caf," Thorn says with a friendly smile. "Can I come in?"

Fox nods.

Thorn walks into the office, places the cup down in front of Fox, and sits on the corner of his desk.

Fox grabs the cup of hot, black caf and deeply inhales its alluring aroma. "Is this a peace offering?"

Thorn snorts. "You should be bringing me a peace offering for all that name calling."

Fox winces at the vague memory, then takes a sip. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted," Thorn says. "You're still a di'kut, though."

"So are you," Fox smirks.

Is he a friend of yours? the apparition asks as it appears next to Fox.

Fox startles and accidentally drops the cup of caf onto his lap. "Kriff!"

Thorn also startles and jumps off the corner of Fox's desk. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Fox sighs. "Just grab me a towel, will ya?"

Thorn walks off towards the refresher to grab a towel.

He seems like a nice vod , the apparition says as it watches Thorn with interest. Is he your best friend?

Fox chooses to ignore the question and the ghost.

You know , the apparition continues. It hops up on the desk to sit in front of Fox, its legs dangling over the edge. I had a best friend once – actually two. They're both dead, now… Like me. Must be nice to have yours still alive, huh?

Fox glares at the apparition and snarls. "Don't you touch him!"

The apparition chuckles. I'm a ghost, remember? I can't even touch you. The apparition reaches out to touch Fox, but its hand goes straight through him. See? I'm not going to hurt your friend.

Fox continues to glare, not fully trusting what the apparition says. Thorn is his best friend, but this is his issue to deal with, and he's not going to drag Thorn down this insane hole of guilt and self-loathing with him. Even so, it would be great if Thorn could see the apparition too. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so crazy about the whole situation. A little validation goes a long way in his mind. He just needs Thorn to see it once, then he can feel safe again, feel normal again.

"Fox?" Thorn asks in concern while handing him the towel. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Fox grabs the towel and pats himself and the chair dry. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Thorn isn't convinced, but doesn't argue.

I'm not fine , the apparition says. I'm dead .

Fox wants to say something in rebuttal, but Thorn's lack of comment about the elephant in the room makes him wonder. He turns his head to the apparition and then to Thorn, and then back again. "You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" Thorn asks, a confused expression on his face.

"Nothing," Fox sighs and tosses the towel onto the desk before slumping back into his chair. "Nevermind."

"Fox," Thorn begins hesitantly. "I think you should see a medic. You've been acting strange lately and I'm worried."

Yeah, Fox , the apparition adds. You should see a medic for that missing memory issue . Maybe they can tell you why you killed me.

"I don't need a medic!" Fox exclaims. Thorn flinches and Fox bites his tongue. "Sorry. I'm just tired is all."

Thorn still isn't convinced, but he sighs and shakes his head. "Alright, I trust your judgment."

I don't , the apparition says. You shot me .

"Thanks," Fox says. His eye twitches. It's hard enough to keep his thoughts straight, but it's even harder when he has two people talking to him at once and only one of them is actually there.

"I'm here if you need me," Thorn says as he places a hand on Fox's shoulder. "Even if you just want to talk."

You can talk to me too , the apparition says.

"I appreciate that," Fox says, trying to give him his best fake smile.

Thorn throws Fox another look of concern, but turns and leaves his office all the same.

Fox immediately turns his attention to the apparition. "Can you just shut up?!"

No , the apparition says. That's the whole point of haunting. I'm supposed to be annoying.

Fox drops his head onto his desk and yells in frustration.

The apparition hops off the desk and kneels so it's face is on Fox's level. Just tell me why you killed me, Fox, it whispers. And I'll go away .

Fox clutches the sides of his head. "I'm trying," he chokes out. "But I can't remember."

It's been a week and Fox is on the verge of losing himself. He can't sleep. He can't eat. He can't do anything. The reports are piling up and questions are being asked. Thorn continues to check on him, and he appreciates it, but he wishes he'd stay away from him. Every time Thorn comes into his office, the apparition stares at him like he's a piece of meat. Fox knows the apparition can't hurt Thorn, at least, that's what he's been made to believe, but what if he's wrong?

He can't let it get Thorn, too. It can torment him all it wants, actually, it can even kill him if it wants, but he will not let anything happen to Thorn. Thorn is too good for this kind of torturous hell. Thorn hasn't killed any clones. He probably hasn't killed anyone . There's no reason for Thorn to be brought into this. It's him that the apparition wants. Its blood is on his hands, not Thorns. Thorn has nothing to do with any of this and Fox will do anything to protect him.

Hi Fox , the apparition says while leaning against the door frame of the office.

"What do you want?" Fox sneers from where he sits behind his desk.

The truth , the apparition says with a smug grin. You've been keeping it from me.

"Like I've said," Fox says. "I still don't remember."

Not good enough , the apparition says as it pushes itself off the door frame and approaches Fox's desk.

"I won't let you hurt Thorn," Fox says as he stands up.

What are you talking about? the apparition asks.

"Don't play dumb with me!" Fox exclaims. "I know you're going to hurt him to get back at me."

Are you alright, Fox? the apparition taunts. You seem a little off today.

"Get out of my head!" Fox yells as he clutches the sides of his head. "I know what you're doing!"

What's the matter? the apparition taunts. I've never seen you so unhinged before.

"Leave me alone!" Fox yells.

C'mon, Fox, the apparition walks closer. Tell me.

Fox draws one of his blasters and points it towards the ghostly figure. "Get away from me!"

Whoa, there, the apparition says, putting its hands up and taking a single step back. There's no need for that.

Fox breathes heavily. "I'm warning you!"

You won't shoot me, the apparition smirks. You have no reason to shoot me. Put the blaster down, Fox.

"I won't let you hurt him!" Fox yells, then fires a single bolt through the same spot as before, on the apparition's chest, through its heart. He watches as the apparition falls to its knees and clutches at its chest. That'll stop it. That'll shut it up. That'll make it leave him alone. That'll keep it from hurting– Thorn?

Fox pants with exasperation as his senses begin to clear. The vision of the apparition slowly dissipates, leaving behind the image of Thorn grasping at the hole in his chest. A look of pain, shock, horror, and confusion painted on his face as he looks at Fox. No. No, this can't be happening. He didn't. He couldn't. Did he shoot his best friend? It was the ghost. The ghost was right there. It was talking to him. It was taunting him. It was going to hurt Thorn.

"Fox," Thorn gasps. "Why?"

At the sound of Thorn's voice, the gravity of what Fox has done hits him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widen and his voice quivers. "Thorn."

Thorn collapses forward onto the floor and Fox rushes to his side.

"No, no, no, no," Fox rambles as he pulls his brother into his lap and applies pressure to the wound. "I need a medic!" he yells. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I didn't know it was you. There was a ghost and it was in my head and I couldn't remember." Tears begin to well in Fox's eyes as he tries desperately to explain.

Thorn reaches up a hand to touch Fox's cheek and Fox grabs it with his own.

"I'm… sorry," Thorn says weakly. "I… wish… I… could've… helped… you…" Thorn's hand drops as his body goes limp and he breathes his last breath.

"Where's my medic!" Fox yells, tears now streaming down his face unabated. "Hang on, vod." He pulls his brother's lifeless body close to his chest and rocks him back and forth. "Please, don't go. Don't leave me."

The apparition appears once again, crouches down in front of Fox, and looks apathetically at Thorn's lifeless body. It shakes its head. And to think all of this could've been avoided if you would've just told me what I wanted to know.

Fox looks at the apparition with murderous intent.

A vod for a vod , the apparition says with a smirk. At least you'll remember this one.

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