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motorcyclegirlfriends · 7 years

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Kara’s Necklace

I’ve been thinking about Kara’s giving of her mother’s necklace to Mon-El since I read the spoiler on Sunday, and I think I’ve wrapped my head around something that makes it a lot less... terrible.

At first, I was furious.

Especially since that’s all I had to think about in that moment. I got the information that Mon-El was leaving (which wasn’t a shocker, I’d been saying it since they broke up like 8 times in a row that they’re rushing the course of the relationship so she can lose him at the end of the season) and I got some snippets that Lena and Mon-El made it happen and such.

And then a few hours later, I saw that Kara gave her necklace to Mon-El as he left.

Her mother’s necklace?

A part of me is still there.

Because we really couldn’t afford to lose this connection to Kara’s family. To have her give it up as a romantic gesture, when all season everything has been about this romance, forsaking Kara’s connection with everyone else in favor of it.

I would never give up that necklace.

I would tell my friends not to give up any piece of themselves for a boy.

I would tell Kara that he’ll be okay, that it means more to her and was a gift to her.

And I think it’s really a terrible thing to show girls, because they look up to Kara and might now think that they should give up everything for their romantic partners, especially after a season of Kara being used as a narrative tool to make Mon-El a better person.

But I’ve thought about it, and while I think what they should have done was have Kara learn over the course of the season to prioritize her needs instead of Mon-El’s, it’s still very much in character for her to do the things she has.

And not just because she’s a normal lovesick girl.

In fact, that’s the least important part of it.

And that idea is helping me a lot right now because while I’d have been alright with Kara giving her necklace up to Alex, having her give it up to any romantic partner (yes, this includes Lena) would have disturbed me because it’s about her family and her inconceivable loss and it’s part of what makes her her.

It represents a huge part of what draws me to Kara, and she just gave it up to Mon-El?

The writers just gave this huge depth up for some romance?

But the depth is still there, for those who seek it. I’m here to present it to you.

Some of the analyzations coming up are generous to the writers, but they are not unfounded.

I think that the interpretation I have of the season’s events is what the writers (or at least some of them) originally conceived it all to mean, but somewhere along the way they lost track of the point:

That there’s more to how Kara was and is feeling than missing someone romantically.

Though, first, she does miss Mon-El romantically.

Just to clarify, before we move forward. Jokes like “Kara doesn’t even like Mon-El” are to emphasize how the narrative hasn’t given us reason to think that she should like him, not to say that Kara, in canon, actually doesn’t love Mon-El.

While if, in real life, someone was constantly arguing and breaking up with their partner, had to be told they were into them in the first place, and who could only list positive qualities about them that they had forced their partner to acquire, we’d suspect that maybe they didn’t really like them and that something else was going on.

But the writers and performers intended for Kara to have genuinely loved him. May not make sense, but it’s canon. Like the fact that the glasses work as a disguise.

It won’t hurt your interpretation in every instance to read it like Kara doesn’t actually like him.

A fic set before he left where she chooses to break up with him, for instance. Or one where she comes to terms that she was using his relationship for something else, emotionally. But if it leads you to saying stuff like “Why is Kara acting like this? She didn’t even like him! She should be over losing him!” then I think it’s really just a safe bet for you to stick to what the canon is really saying, which is that Kara genuinely loved him.

It’s important to realize the difference between the story you are interpreting and the story they’re intending, especially when it threatens the logicality of what’s happening on the screen and the integrity of the characters themselves.

Let’s start at the beginning of the season, when we first meet Mon-El.

At the end of the two-part introduction, Kara speaks to Mon-El in his coma, saying,

“I know what it's like to be a stranger on this planet. So when you wake up, I'll be here for you. So you never know what it's like to be alone.”

Right at the start, you can see that Kara is projecting her hopes onto him.

On some level, she was projecting herself onto him. You can see that in the manor that she tackles mentoring Mon-El, trying to form him into a mini-me. And you can see it in her empathy for his experiences, and how she initially fears that he’ll be alone like she was (not that she was alone entirely, she had the Danvers’. But she didn’t have anyone like her, and this little speech was given on the back of dealing with Kal’s abandonment of her when he was the only person who could come close to understanding her when she landed.)

Kara’s empathy and experiences give her the capacity and urge to help Mon-El.

But that’s not what gives her the need to help Mon-El.

Because Kara sees herself in him (or the idea of him), but what he really represents to her is the life she lost. Lives she lost.

In one of these lives, Kara landed on Earth at the same time as Kal and raised him, like she promised she would.

But she didn’t get that chance and a part of her will always feel like she let him down. And I think that’s why- well, part of why- it’s hard for Kara to blame him for abandoning her.

She feels like she abandoned him first.

But now there’s this new person, shipped straight to her by pod, that she can look after. Who will need her guidance.

This is an opportunity for her to finally fulfil her promise to her mother, in a way.

The promise she failed to keep that she has been channeling into being a superhero instead (I think she would be one anyway tbh, but part of her current motivations are to live up to what her mother expected of her).

Now, people have already pointed out that having a child be in the pod would have served the same purpose of having Kara mentor someone.

But, I don’t think I would have particularly enjoyed Kara being in a parental role in season two of her own show.

Having Kara act like Mon-El’s mother is a problem, obviously. Especially at the same time as being her romantic partner, because it endorses the idea that women have to take care of their husbands, are replacing their husband’s mothers. He’s a grown man and should figure out this stuff himself.

But having Kara be someone’s actual mother figure would have had similar issues with shifting the focus from being about Kara to being about the child. The child itself would not be at fault the way Mon-El is, but the writers would still be doing the same thing to Kara’s story.

Think of all the times a female character has gone from being a powerful protagonist to a Power Mom™ and the storyline suddenly becomes about protecting the child- who is usually a boy, and usually prophesied to be All Powerful, when the female protagonist used to be the prophesied and most powerful one.

I think that storyline is a sneaky way to shift women into one of the roles that are used for the benefit of men. Or, if the woman is aging, a way to shift the focus to a younger woman that can ‘still be sexualized’, usually by having the baby some how be a grown up right away, or have them be a mother figure to someone just young enough.

Not that a woman having a child or acting as a mother is always used in this way, but in this case it’d be a slippery slope. Especially since the kid in Supergirl would definately have had powers and be heading toward being a hero. And with the way they handled it with Mon-El in this role, I don’t think they’d have done better if it were a kid. In fact, if it were a child, they might not have been compelled to make it a point that Kara will always be more powerful.

But this is why Kara is so frustrated in finding that Mon-El isn’t a good student, doesn’t want to be a hero. If he isn’t the best version of himself on this Earth while Kara is responsible for him, she is failing her mother all over again.

And that brings me to another life unlived, one with Astra.

Someone who could have been saved if only Kara had had more time.

More words.

The right words.

Someone who, with her gifts, could have been a hero of Earth, standing right next to Kara.

Teaching Kara.

And if Kara had been able to make her better, teach her how to fit in the world and make it better, Kara would have never lost her.

And like Astra, Mon-El was a piece of Krypton.

Just like Kal could have been.

It’s been thoroughly discussed on this site how Kal can’t be everything Kara needs from a Kryptonian because she actually experienced Krypton while he’d only been able to absorb his home planet’s culture through the fortress and through her, in small doses.

There aren’t shared experiences to connect with, just second hand stories.

And I think she mourns Kal, the little boy from her Black Mercy dream, who she would have grown up with on Krypton.

Hell, even a Kal on Earth that she would have grown up with would do. Teaching him all about Krypton every step of the way so that it’s, if not experienced by him, ingrained within him.

But when she reached Earth, it was too late. He was already grown and formed and wrong.

And gone.

And then Astra shows up, holding a piece of Kara’s life on Krypton in her hand.

The beacon.

And she remembers what Kara remembers. She holds Krypton in her heart in the same way Kara does.

It’s a little off, what Astra tells her. Different than she remembers.

Her mother was different than she remembers. Darker.

And it crushes her, to find that her memories are wrong. (And she’s losing it all over again. She loses Krypton over and over and over again.)

But she comes to terms with it.

Accepts that her mother was not who she imagined she was, but that she has her aunt right there, living and breathing and just waiting to live through Krypton with her, if she can just get through to her.

And then she’s gone.

And her husband and all the prisoners of Krypton who were wrong so wrong but they knew her home are gone too and there’s no one left who knows it like she does and maybe it was better before when she thought no one survive because at least she couldn’t lose them again.

And then Mon-El arrives.

At first, she thinks he’s a Kryptonian. Wants him to be Kryptonian. Of course she does.

But he’s a Daxamite. And she hates him for it.

And not just because his planet is filled with crappy slave owners.

But because she could have had a Kryptonian.

A breathing Kryptonian who lived a full life on Krypton.

Who would have known even more than her about it and would have been able to share it with her.

But when he eventually does speak of things she remembers, at first, she seems more bothered than anything.

Because it’s not quite right, and she could have had someone who was just like her.

But slowly, she’s drawn in by what they share and what he could be.

He knows things.

Things Kara can never talk about with most people she meets, things the people she can talk about it with will never fully understand.

Planets they’ve both been to.

Customs they both remember.

Air they’ve both breathed.

Kara would have had a normal life on Krypton. Had her family, her work, love. Everything she is constantly seeking on Earth.

(And hey, she was doing a pretty good job despite her difficulties, if you ask me.)

But she can never shake the feeling that it’s not right, like there’s somewhere else she’s supposed to be.

Like she’s late for her real life on Krypton.

Maybe if she closes her eyes she’ll wake up and realize it’s just another normal day on her home planet and she’s not different or weird or... struggling.

She’s just normal.

Not “reporting job at Catco and boardgames with friends on Earth” normal.

Krypton normal.

And Mon-El is a piece of that life.

And so when he reveals that he is interested in her romantically, how could she not try?

Kara would have fallen in love on Krypton.

Met a Kryptonian and had children and had a purpose and lived a long and happy life.

But Mon-El is as close to a Kryptonian as she’s ever going to meet. Ever. As close to the person she would have fallen for on Krypton that she’ll ever find.

And it’s not just that.

There’s so much that separates Kara from everyone around her that Mon-El shared.

Her secret. Of being an alien and a superhero.

The loss of a planet. Family members and culture and the guilt that comes with that.

They both have powers and could so easily hurt others.

But not each other.

She won’t crush his nose from kissing him or break his toes by stepping on him.

She won’t hug him too hard because she’s excited or send him flying if she bumps into him by accident.

And so much of this has kept her from falling for anyone else. She could barely become friends with anyone, growing up, with her secret strangeness and alien mistakes she was still making.

And who knew if she thought she would ever be able to actually tell anyone the truth. Show her full self. Based on her confession to James in season one- that she didn’t think she’d ever have someone who really knows her- I’m thinking not.

And there’s more...

He’ll live.

He’s hard to kill, even in performing superhero duties, and he’ll probably live for about as many years as she does.

None of her friends will live as long as she. Nor will Eliza.

Or Alex.

Kara will be alone, again.

Survive without them all. Again.

But not if she’s with Mon-El.

All this, along with Kara’s idealization of a “normal” life that likely causes her to see a romantic partner as a requirement for a happy life, would lead Kara straight to him.

Personal issues be damned.

She can change him.

(And this isn’t even touching on Kara’s intense need to do The Right Thing. Which, as everyone kept telling her, was to forgive Mon-El at every turn.)

But for Kara, Mon-El was a sign that she was allowed to be happy now.

She’s allowed to have someone who will be with her, always. Who could fully know her and won’t leave her for any reason.

Which brings us to the end of the season.

After Kara has been with him, canonically happily for a little while.

Just long enough to feel like she almost had it all, like she could have really been happy.

Like she wasn’t going to lose it all.

He leaves anyway.

He’s leaving anyway.

And she sees him standing there, ready to go into the pod and-

She sees her culture.

The last person who knew what the food tasted like on Krypton. How the planet looked in the sky. How it’s people spoke the language.

She sees Astra.

Who could have been saved if Kara had been better.

Had more time.

But she was better this time, she did the right thing at every turn.

Time didn’t matter.

None of it mattered, in the end.

She sees Kal.

Who she failed.

Who she is failing again.

When she left Krypton, she took one last hug from her mother, and lost 24 years because of it. Lost Kal because of it. And he lost her.

For an instant, she chose her love over her duty and everyone suffered.

But not this time. This time she chooses the right thing.

She does what she is supposed to do, heart be damned.

And yet she ends up hurting someone anyway. Ends up losing the person she thought would be her redemption for that fateful failure years ago. Still, somehow, she fails.

She sees herself.

She sees herself entering that pod and leaving forever, like she did so many years ago. But this time, she’s on the other side.

This time, she’s her mother.

But she still feels like she’s the one being abandoned, in a way, even though he’s in her place, now.

Because she’s going to survive, like always.

She’s the one who gets to be safe.

And god was she so content to die for the Earth, because it meant never having to do this again. Never having to survive again.

Because she knows what survival means. It means responsibility and it means loneliness. It means being a hero and losing everything else. It means living forever and watching it all slip away when all you ever wanted was for it to stay.

But she knows what she’s supposed to do in this moment. Even as the words ring in her ear, “As long as I have this, I will never be alone.”

She knows who she is in this scene.

She’s her mother, smiling as the world crumbles around her.

And Mon-El is getting into the pod, flying into the darkness of space

So she gives him the necklace, and he’ll be safe.

Because that’s what she’s supposed to do. She’s supposed to give up everyone and everything.

He takes it and leaves.

And she’s alone.

But Kara didn’t give up the necklace for a romance, she gave it up for her mother.

Because her mother was once where she stood, sending her off. And it must have been so painful.

But she smiled, said “I love you,” and gave Kara her necklace to keep her safe.

Gave it to her so that she wouldn’t be alone.

And, in this moment, after surviving instead of so many because of her mother’s actions, how could she do any less?

And we would tell Kara, Alex would tell Kara, “Your mother gave that to you, for you to feel safe.”

But when Kara became Supergirl she told Alex,

“This is the reason my mother and father sent me to Earth.”

To which Alex replied, “They wanted you to live, Kara.”

“No, it’s more than that.”

Kara has always interpreted her parents saving her as them placing responsibility on her shoulders.

So Kara probably wouldn’t have listened to us when we told her that the necklace was for her comfort. An act of love, not legacy.

It’s a tragedy but it’s not a romance. Who it is doesn’t even matter.

Kara could be projecting all of these things onto a rock, and the result would be the same. The bare bones of the story have Kara using Mon-El as a conduit to deal with her massive abandonment issues. The story uses him as a tool to represent all of these actually important things.

But somewhere in the execution, they lost the message almost entirely. Mostly in (badly) developing this new character.

But there is still substance for us to work with in headcanons, fanfic, and our view of Kara that preserves the overall integrity of her character outside of this romantic train wreck.

#supergirl #kara danvers #anti-mon-el #supergirl meta #i feel so much better guys #if it's too long i think starting with the bold parts toward the end would be fine #also i'm very tired so forgive this if it's terrible i guess #i have more receipts for some of these concepts but this already took forever

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maddestzoomer · 4 years

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stop thinking

word count - 1,212

warnings - underage drinking, cussing

pairing - steve harrington x reader

It’s 2 am at the local seven-eleven, you’re really only there to buy bread. You need bread to make some fucking toast because your stomach will not stop rumbling and you can’t keep anything else down- and so here you are.

Bugs flicker in the yellow lights as you pull up, vision blurry with exhaustion. You haven't slept in at least 34 hours, but who's counting?

You’re hoping you won’t run into trouble- but you usually avoid seven-elevens at this time of night because of the trouble they cause. From cat-calling pervs to drug dealers- seven-eleven at night was a completely different atmosphere. Especially this one. It’s too close to the college campus for your liking, but the one by your house is closed. Of fucking course.

Slamming the car into park, you fall out of the door. Sweat sticks your hair to your forehead and your mouth is bone dry. The summer air is uncomfortably warm, causing your shirt to stick to your back.

Bread. Fucking bread. That’s all you need.

Before you can stumble through the doors, a voice calls out to you from the shadows. “Kid,” it slurs, "you ‘right?”

“Yes,” you breathe and pull on the handle. It’s locked. Fuck.

“Waddya need?” A man- a boy, really, he’s not much older than you- steps out of the shadows. His eyes are dark and heavy as they trace down your body slowly.

You feel exposed. “Jus’ need some bread,” you mutter.

“Bread?” He laughs, approaching you with a few slow but large steps. Now, in the low light, you can see he's tall and fitted with a well-worn leather jacket. You tug on the handle.

“That door ain’t gonna open, doll. Those cashiers’re screwing in the back room and they don’t give two shits about your... bread.” He tilts his head back, dark eyes glinting in the low light.

“I’m, uh, I guess I’ll just go home then,” you mutter, turning to your car.

“Woah-ho kid, where you going?” The blond boy asks, leaning against the brick wall. He tilts a bottle to his lips, spilling some of it down his chin. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“What’s goin on?”

You shrug simply. “I just don’t feel so good.”

“Don’t feel so good?” He laughs, a small smirk playing at the ends of his lips.

“Y’know what’ll fix that?”

Shaking your head, you look at the ground. You’re not sure what he wants, but it can’t be good... right?

“Here, take this,” he says, thrusting the bottle towards you, a tiny amount splashing from the open rim. You jump back, eyes growing steely.

“Woah there cowboy,” he says, chuckling. “It’s just a little tequila.”

You stare at the bottle, a headache pounding its way into your skull. Something should feel off- but somehow, it doesn't.

“Uh, yeah- no thanks-“

He rolls his eyes. “It’s not fuckin’ drugged. I just took a swill of it, you saw me.” The orange lights flicker over his face.

He doesn’t look as scary now- maybe twenty at most, and his lips are cracked and raw. His eyes are ringed with dark circles, but they’re not the narrowed predator’s eyes that you've seen before.

Just glazed, slightly unfocused, and maybe a tiny bit bloodshot. It's hard to make out in this light. His hands shake slightly, but his gaze is calm and collected.

“Here, take it,” he says, holding out the bottle again.

Hesitantly, you grasp the cheap plastic in your fingers. He looks at you expectantly.

“You know, you're supposed to drink it. It’ll help your stomach.”

It burns your nose and mouth when you bring it to your lips, taking a huge gulp. It stings as it falls down into your stomach, igniting the contented

“Jesus- fuck,” you gasp, coughing harshly.

He takes the bottle back. “Hell, fuckin' big gulp... You drink?”

You nod, willing your stomach to be strong. You clutch it tightly, hoping you won’t puke all over the sidewalk in front of the convenience store.

“Goddamn,” he laughs, throwing his head back and swigging the tequila. “How old are ya? Sixteen?”

You don’t answer, just stare at the ground as the warmth starts to flood through your veins. Tequila always burns your skin up- it makes your tongue swell and your cheeks turn red... But hey, at least your stomach feels a bit better.

“I’m Steve, by the way,” he says, sticking out a hand. You ignore it. He thinks, then asks, “...want more?”

You snatch the bottle from his outstretched hand. Your head is spinning a little faster now, the shadows are long and weird.

You stare at your hands- Fuck. You can’t fucking drive. You start towards your car, still clutching the bottle. “Woah, woah, hold on,” he says, stumbling after you.

“You jus’ had like, a couple a’ shots of tequila. You are not driving any fuckin’ car.”

“Watch me,” you reply lowly, getting into the driver's seat.

“Hold on-“ he says. “Just stay here.”

You shake your head and slam the door shut behind you, turning the car on. Stepping on the gas, you accelerate out of the parking lot- and... right into a fucking concrete divider.

The impact slams your head to the side, worsening your already aching skull.

“Shit!” You bellow sharply, slamming the steering wheel with tight fists.

Steve is there in an instant, still holding the bottle.

“I told you...” he says, smiling a bit.

“Fuck off,” you growl through gritted teeth.

Your life flashes before your eyes. DUI. MIP. Car accident. Money. Your parents are going to fucking gut you. Tears prick your eyes, then slowly sliding down onto your red cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hold on,” Steve says. “Stop. Stop. Stop thinking.”

“What?” You ask, sniffing. "What the fuck does that mean?!"

“Don’t think about that shit. I saw you doing it. It-It's not a problem. Right now, you can wait until tomorrow. Tomorrow is a good time to deal with this. Right now?” He shakes his head.

“No. Now is for getting as drunk as you can, so you don’t have to think about it.” He offered a small smile, a kind one.

You can’t argue with his logic, so you follow him out of the smashed car and to where he had been standing, taking a seat on the curb. An ice cooler runs behind you to you as you pass bottles back and forth, numbing your mind and tongue.

Steve turns out to be surprisingly fascinating for a person from Hawkins, but more importantly, he was nice. You wish you could talk to him forever...

You spend the entire night with your new friend, until you wake up, that is.

Your head is pounding from a hangover and from being violently thrown to the side... Once awake, even though your vision is blurred, you can see your parents standing over you.

Shit. Fuck. FUCK.

You crashed a fucking car at the seven eleven while you were drunk. You look around for Steve- for his support- but he’s gone. He probably left when the sun rose...

All that’s left is a number scribbled on the back of a receipt and an empty tequila bottle at your side, which you can’t even hope to hide.

You are, officially, fucked.

an.

so this is honestly a kinda shit concept thats low-key poorly written, but whatever, that’s fine lmao

thanks for reading this! feel free to tell me your thoughts :) i may or may not do more st character x reader pairings in the future haha, but we’ll just have to wait n find out.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #my concept #my writing #eleven #mike wheeler #billy hargrove #hawkins #jim hopper #joyce byers #will byers #robin buckley #max mayfield

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mattzerella-sticks · 5 years

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In the Mind of a Writer - a Sam-centric coda to 15x04 that has Dean/Cas elements

Sam is tormented with strange dreams again. Being a demon and killing his brother was only the start. It seems night after night his mind plays a new, horrifying concept with him and his brother as the starring leads.

However one night he gets a break, and instead of being a part of the action can sit back and watch. Is it better or worse to not be included in the script? Will he learn anything new from the role of audience member? And just exactly what is the reason for these dreams in the first place?

Sam leans against the hallway, hand splayed across the wall and sliding it while he staggered towards his bedroom. Blinks bleary eyes downwards, he tracks his feet in case one decides to trip the other and send him sprawling to the floor. He stumbles when his hand skipped over a space in the hallway, Sam flailing. If it weren’t luck guiding him towards the door knob he would have fully fallen. Instead, shaken, he squeezes both the knob and the door jamb.

“What did I…” Glancing into the empty room, Sam knows exactly where he is. “ Oh .”

Cas’s room. Or what used to be of it. There’s not even a bed left, pieces remain from the night Dean dismantled it with the help of Jack and Whiskey.

He found him there, screwdriver and drink in hand, barely coherent. “What are you doing?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he drawled, stumbling over to a dresser with no drawers. Smashed to bits around his brother. “Had a totally… totally awesomeidea. Turn this into a gym.”

“A gym?” Sam asked, “Dean, we already have a gym.”

“We do?”

“Yeah… you just never go to it,” Sam frowned, cautiously approaching him, “Dean, are you -”

“Then it’ll be something else,” Dean said, swinging wildly. Narrowly dodging the tip of his screwdriver, Sam jumped a safe distance away. “Maybe a memorial room… Yeah, to r’member those we’ve lost.”

Sam liked the idea. “But here?” he continued, “Dean, this is Ca -”

“Why not here Sam?” Dean asked, surprisingly sober like he flipped a switch. Glared at him with cold, dead eyes nestled in puffy, red skin. “S’not like anyone’s using this room.”

Arguing with Dean like this is like taking tackling a demon without an angel blade. In no mood for it, Sam let him be. The curiosity of what drove his brother to demolish their friend’s room didn’t leave. So he texted Cas.

And texted. Again. And called after the fifth unanswered message.

Finally in his room, Sam checks his phone hoping Cas responded. He’s greeted by the mocking checkmark of a read-receipt on his most recent text. “Seriously,” Sam scowls, dropping his phone onto the nightstand, “why won’t anyone tell me anything .”

Dean loves talking about problems when they aren’t his own. Played nursemaid to distract from his own inability to deal with his trauma. While Sam appreciated it, he knew it wouldn’t last forever. Evidenced by the unhealthy habits Dean uses to bide his time between being a good brother.

The two buckets of greasy chicken Dean wolfed down were obvious clues he was not in his right mind.

“At least it’s not booze,” Sam mutters, pulling the thin henley over his head. After the first few nights of drinking, his brother locked the liquor cabinet and instead chose to stuff his face.

Sam walked in on a rare sight, his brother nursing a wicked hangover. Seeing only a bottle and a half of whiskey drank, his hackles rose. “It’s not like you to be taken down so easily.”

“It’s called aging Sam,” he growled, “Apparently I can’t hold my liquor like I used to…”

He sighs, shaking his head clear of the memories of his brother making coffee with the saddest scowl fixed to his face. Sam needs an empty head when he goes to sleep, refusing to allow his subconscious any foothold to create another horrible dream.

Besides the one where a demon version of himself killed his brother, there were countless dreams he had that ended as miserably. Dean, fueled by Amara’s Mark, chopping his head off. Both of them hunting as the very creatures they fought, tearing into innocent victims with no remorse. Last night Sam ripped Dean’s soul from his body so they could both be killing machines dictated by logic. He woke up after the light died in his brother’s eyes while thanking Sam for ‘fixing’ him.

Sam knows if this continues he might go crazy. In one he already was, haunted by visions of Lucifer while standing over his brother’s lifeless body.

“Not tonight,” Sam promises, slipping under his covers, “It won’t happen tonight.” Voice shaky, Sam doubts he can control what he dreams. Any answer to this problem seems out of reach since the lack of sleep muddles his mind. Crosses wires and makes it harder to think. A good night’s rest might help, but there’s no telling if that might be soon.

Not until he closes his eyes. Which Sam does, since he can’t keep them open any longer.

Unfortunately, he dreams.

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Long grass and weeds overgrown the Bunker’s entrance, vines overtaking the stairwell. From his overhead perspective, Sam sees Cas exit his truck. Unlike when he last saw him, his friend wears a black button-down over a t-shirt, torn jeans, and scuffed boots. Scars criss-cross the exposed skin of his forearms where the sleeves rolled up, and a heavy line was carved from his temple to his cheek. It enhanced the rough edges on full display.

Cas doesn’t enter, instead drifting towards the haphazardly parked car nearby. Sam hadn’t recognized it. Dean’s Impala in such a poor condition he couldn’t put two together. With mud-splattered exterior and dented hood, she looked nothing like the pristine Baby he sat in hours earlier. Interior faring no better, Sam saw discarded wrappers, empty bottles with spill stains and even more mud.

Dean would flip if he knew what had happened to her, Sam thought.

Entranced by the sorry excuse for the Winchester chariot Sam nearly missed Cas heading inside. He followed his friend inside, pausing to stare at the unfamiliar wasteland their home became.

Dim lighting didn’t disguise the dump the Bunker was. Similar wrappers to the ones decorating Baby cascaded down the stairs in a trail that stretched into the depths of the Bunker. With each step Cas took Sam’s dread inched closer and closer towards a mountainous peak and he can identify more in the main room. Like the yellowed mattress thrown on top of the world map or pages upon pages of books crumpled and balled in a piles, competing with the wrappers.

Cas searches for something in the mess. Focusing on his features, however, Sam has the sense he looks for some one .

Trickling sounds from nearby, and the closer he follows Cas the louder it becomes. “Dean?” Cas calls into the emptiness, “Dean? Are you there?”

“Right here!”

Standing in the corner, Dean relieves himself. Backside covered by his robe, Sam sees only the thick pale stream pouring onto the floor in a puddle and flooding under his feet. Nausea grips him tight at his brother’s gross display, especially when he grunts near the end. Shaking the final drops free and finishes peeing.

Dean turns and fully reveals himself.

Sam gasps at the sight of his brother, completely unrecognizable had he not answered Cas’s call. His sandy hair looks more flaxen, long enough to curl atop his shoulders. Unkempt like his crumb-covered beard. Dean only wears the robe, nothing on underneath. Obvious by the blase way he walks over with the stained garment open. A calm expression settles across his face like being naked in front of his best friend shouldn’t bother him. Except, knowing his brother, it should.

“Dean,” Cas starts, a darkness settling over his features, “I… I had heard but… seeing it -”

“Seeing what?” Dean asks, skewing his head to the side in an innocent mirror of his friend. Somehow Cas’s stare hardens further.

“What… happened ?”

Sam wants to know the answer - needs to. The more exposure to this version of his brother, the more he notices. Like the softness of his body exposed by the gentle swaying of the robe. Belly round and extended, muscles hidden by extra cushion. More than usual. And all of it is covered in streaks of dirt and grease and other smears he dare not name, like Dean hadn’t showered for an extended period of time. If he could smell, Sam believes it would knock him to the floor.

He keeps ticking off more boxes that raise Sam’s hackles.

Dean thinks longer than necessary before speaking. His eyes flicker slightly as a thought connects, and an easy smile crosses his face while the green dims to a pale, lifeless moss. “You know what happened, Cas,” he says, dragging a chair forward and collapsing in it. Slamming his gross feet onto the map, nudging the bed slightly, he swipes a half-eaten sandwich from the floor and tears into it. While he chews with his mouth open Sam studies his food. An inkling of recognition tickles him. “Chuck did it,” Dean continues, crumbs spraying, “brought back the Leviathan to wipe away his work and then packed up - onto the next universe. And when they came they did with a vengeance… picked up where they left off…”

Sam remembers. Looking at the sandwich he now notices the grey blobs oozing from the sandwich.

“No,” Cas shakes his head, lips trembling, “No, Dean, that… I know it’s been too long but how could this have happened? This… what happened to you ?”

“Shit, Cas what didn’t happen?” Dean chuckles, “You were there for some of it… Dick running for President. Secret service men with all that extra teeth… Sam dying -”

“Sam? Sam’s dead?”

“Yeah, like a while ago…”

His heart beats loudly in his ears, unsure whether from finding out he’s dead in this nightmare or because of the flippant way Dean mentioned his death.

Cas reacts though. Sobs brokenly, shoulders shuddering like they might collapse. In the next second he shoves the sadness down. “How?”

“Like everyone else we knew,” he shrugs, “We stormed a compound, took down a few of the toothy bastards. Tried to free a few of the captive cattle. Sam was helping this woman, fighting her to get her to budge, but she wouldn’t… and that’s when a Leviathan snuck up and ganked him. Blood… everywhere!” Grey drops fly with how wildly he swings the arm holding his sandwich. “I watched the whole thing, man. Like, ten of ‘em piled on and ate him right there. Nothing left when they finished. After all the fat they were probably in the mood for some lean meat.”

If Sam could vomit he would. Already he imagines the scene as Dean described, feels teeth marking his skin and ripping it from his bones. Maybe that’s why he is nothing more than a silent voice among his family.

“And so you gave up?” Cas asks, “Without Sam you couldn’t go on any longer?”

Dean pouts, tapping his sandwich to his chin. Smearing juices against the beard. “Nah,” he says, “It hurt when I saw it, I think? But y’know what I remember more? All the other people who were watching… doing nothing. Sitting like it didn’t matter… because it didn’t . Not caring because they weren’t able to, man… that’s the dream. It’s awesome . The chick Sam was 'saving' ended up drenched in his blood and she didn’t even scream. After that I guess I reconsidered what I wanted and… it’s not that bad being cattle. Eat as much as I want until one day I get eaten? Turns out I’m more okay with it than I first thought…”

“It’s not okay, Dean,” Cas pleads, closes the distance between them and kneels at his side. Lays his hands over Dean’s thigh, digging into the soft flesh. “Humans were made for more than this. You’re more -”

“Sure,” he scoffs, “And what did we do with all that more ? This is exactly what we deserve -”

“You’re not in your right mind.”

“I feel like I’m thinking clearly for the first time ever. And if I’m not who cares ?”

“I do!” Cas screams, “Because knowing what the Leviathan has done to Sam, has done to you … it fills me with so much anger . You should be just as angry as I am.”

“Anger leads to nothing,” Dean tells Cas with nihilistic wisdom, “Everything leads to nothing . Our story’s over, man. Chuck made his ending. Why should we carry on with the plot if the author doesn’t want to?”

Cas’s expression dips into righteous fury. “We continue for the people we care about, for ourselves. I know Sam is gone Dean but there are others you care about right? Who you love? Don’t you care about yourself ?”

“Maybe once,” he says, crumbling the wrapper into a tiny ball and tossing it at Cas’s face. Laughing, he leans back in his seat and stretches. “But the only thing I care about now is that I’m hungry .” Dean stands, ignoring Cas on his way towards the exit.

“Dean!” Cas calls after him, “You need to keep fighting. I… I need you.”

Pausing at the foot of the stairs, Dean cranes his neck to meet Cas’s gaze. Grinning with acted mirth, Dean says, “Needing people is overrated. I thought I needed Sam… Hell, I thought I needed you . I never needed anyone… love? Fake. You don’t love me and I don’t love you. I never have… you were just there. You were there until you weren't, and that's the same for everyone. We’re all trying to fill a void… the Leviathan found how to exactly do that.”

During his speech Cas’s features shattered into heartbreak, Sam being buffeted by the shards from where he watches.

“Want my advice? Hit up Biggerson’s… since you’re human it’ll be fine. Grab a sandwich and move on .” Dean trudges up the stairs to the door, slam echoing after him.

Physically alone, Cas finally crumbles. He curls into a ball on the floor surrounded by Dean’s filth and garbage. Sam shudders, hit with the heavy-handed symbolism. As a tear slips past Cas’s chin Sam feels a tugging from the side.

Cas’s sob sounds far away. When Sam blinks, his friend looks smaller than he did before. He realizes too late that he is being dragged from the Bunker. Sam fights to stay with Cas, to comfort him. To prop him up, encourage him that there’s still hope. Dean can still be saved.

A voice whispers from behind. “No more happy endings…”

Sam leaves the Bunker. Flying higher in the sky he sees Baby swerving lazily on the road, her frame becoming tinier and tinier. When she’s nothing more than a speck of black against grey, his vision whitens.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Sam wakes, gasping against his sheets. Twisting, he sits up and splays his hand across his chest. When his heart beats a hasty rhythm for his fingers, he calms slightly. The more he breathes, the calmer he becomes.

Another nightmare. Dragging his hand across his face, Sam curses the latest hellscape he created for himself. Remembers the broken figures of his brother and best friend. Normally their jagged edges fit together perfectly. Only there, the remains were too incompatible.

They all end the same, tonight’s being no different. Death. Sadness. Hopelessness .

Why his dreams can’t stick to a plot, Sam can’t imagine. If they repeated, after a time Sam could prepare. The spontaneity of their content keeps him on his toes in the worst way possible.

He scratches at his gunshot wound, it irritating him more than usual. Sam yawns and shifts off the bed, moving towards the door.

If he cannot sleep, then he’ll do something else. It’s worked every other time.

Sam doesn’t think about what will happen once he runs out of distractions.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Chuck pushes away from the desk, scrubbing his hands down his face and heaving a tired sigh. Glaring at his work, he forcefully shuts the laptop with a thought. “Don’t know what Becky was talking about,” he growls, standing. Pacing across the workroom from the Roadhouse to the Bunker. “Adding Cas never does anything… can’t drive the story where I need it to go…”

He pauses, considering his story from another angle. “Or maybe she was right?” he asks himself, “The Leviathan… weren’t good?”

As soon as it enters his mind Chuck crushes it into ash. Shaking his head, he grins. “They were good, Chuck,” he says, “with all those teeth… how couldn’t they be? But maybe they’re not final draft material…"

Returning to the desk, Chuck opens the laptop. Knuckles cracked, he begins anew. “The perfect ending is in here somewhere…”

#Supernatural #Spn #Spn15 #Supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #Spn fanfic #Sam Winchester #Chuck Shurley #Leviathan #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic

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peaches-of-1 · 6 years

Text

Last Chapter

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Before we get started, I just want to thank all of you who have been reading this from beginning to end. This will be a memorable set because of the OTP becoming canon and then mistreated but that’s another story. So thanks and I hope to write more Pentagon soon.

Competition day was finally here and everyone was busy warming up and doing their makeup even though you didn’t have to perform until later. As the lead, you were nervous. You weren’t the only one, so everyone had done a full run through before breaking for lunch.

Even though you Hyojong different meals, you both ended up sharing most of it, and everyone rolled their eyes when you fed each other. It was two hours until show time for the co-ed groups since the males and females performed tomorrow. You had so much built up entergy, so you wanted to get it all out in order not to overdo it on stage.

E’Dawn gave you a back hug and asked how you were feeling. You weren’t completely sure to be honest.

[3 Days ago]

After checking into the Lotte City Hotel in Jeju, everyone got ready to explore the city until curfew. You and most of your friends went to a nearby park to do some k-pop in public where a decent crowd formed. In the crowd was a guy who was like hella gorgeous who came to talk to you afterwards.

He bowed and greeted you, “I’m Woosung, but you can call me Sammy. You guys were all amazing! I wish I could dance like that.”

What was it with fucking blonde ass Koreans? He was platinum as fuck, and you were digging it.

“(Y/N).” You introduced yourself as Hyojong and the others looked on. “We’re just in town for competition.”

“Oh, really? Me too. Well, my younger bro’s competing, but I’m here to support him.” He removed a leaf from your shoulder. “You’re not from here, are you?”

“Nah, U.S.A.”

He switched to English, “Same here. Where from?”

You told him and you guys spoke a bit. E’Dawn said that you’d all better head to the mall if you wanted time to shop before tomorrow and get some practice in before it got too late. You rolled your eyes since you were still upset with him, but he was right.

“Wanna come with?”

“Yeah, I’m meeting my brother and his friends there anyways.”

Sammy was wearing a shirt covered in white roses that you really liked a lot, and he said that he’d give it to you if you won 1st place. You laughed. He was a really sweet dude and you liked hanging out with him even though you had just met. He got along well with Matthew as well.

Once at the mall, there was a lot of window shopping. You wanted to save your money for food. Hyojong told you to come with him because he wanted to show you something. Not wanting to go alone, you told the others that E’Dawn wanted to go somewhere specific.

“I know we’re not on the best of terms right now, but I still wanted to give you this. I ordered it ahead of time, so that it’d be ready when we got here.”

Half of the group and Sammy went with you to see what Hyojong wanted and you ended up at a Build-a-Bear. He went to the counter and showed a code or something from his phone, and the man smiled. He went to the back, and you were not believing this.

“Dawnie, did you really...make a bear for me?”

He nodded, “Yeah. I wanted something as cute as you but that I sorta made for you to have. It’s silly, I know, but still.”

The man came back out with a light blue bag. You took the plushy out yourself and couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. It was a Pikachu dressed up as Peter Pan.

“It’s Pika Pan.” He said.

“OMG, I love it!” You hugged it and then caught yourself. You still hugged it but loosened your grip, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Thanks, oppa.” You didn’t look at him as you put a receipt on the counter.

“I was pretty sure they were ordered for a couple, but coincidences exist.” The employee laughed and nodded, returning to the back.

Everyone was confused, and your cheeks were on fire. He came back with a green gift bag. Inside of this one was a Buneary in a blue dress with a blue ribbon tied around it’s ear.

“Wendeary.” You said.

“Just fuck each other already, my god!” Kino said, just loud enough for the group to hear.

Everyone laughed and Sammy asked why you guys chose those specific costumes, and you said it was your concept. It’s not like he was competing against you guys.

“Hyung!” A cute smaller boy with brown hair called out to the group. “We gotta get back to the main group now!”

“Ok, I’m coming!”

Sammy said farewell to the group and said the he couldn’t wait to see you guys on stage. You all then went to go eat, and the others were going to make you two air your grievances and finally talk to one another.

You went first. “How come you didn’t say I was your girlfriend when everyone was drooling over you? It had to be obvious what I was feeling especially with all the questions I was asking you.”

He shook his head, “Not really. Well, sort of because I know you, but I was nervous you’d loose interest. I wasn’t sure that you actually wanted to date me since you’re so amazing and--”

Everyone stared at him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jiwoo said. “You weren’t sure if she actually wanted to--” She was fuming.

“Dawnie, I swear to god, you’re adorable but stupid af.” Lisa added.

Matthew nodded, “Dude. Really? You’ve gotta be kidding.”

“But then when everything was done, instead of talking to me, you went to go party with Mr. LA and crew.”

You shrugged, “Well, yeah! You weren’t giving me anything, so I decided to go chill with friends. You didn’t even call me if you were so curious or concerned or whatever about me.”

“Cuz my phone fell onto concrete and the screen shattered!” He didn’t yell, but he was very expressive. “I couldn’t text if I wanted to, which I did by the way.” Hyojong pouted.

You pouted in return and played with your salad, “If your phone was broken, how were you able to call me the next day? Also, why not just get one of your friends to text me or in the group chat that it was broken?”

“I got it fixed the next day and called as soon as I could. I went to go watch your story, and it showed you having a good time. I called you to ask how it went and BM picked up. He said you were sleeping in his bed.”

“You saw my story! It showed all the other ones drunk as fuck! Matthew was the only one sober enough to care for a person. The others just went home and he was worried about me.”

Matthew added, “She doesn’t know Korea as well as the rest of us. It was safest for her to come home with me instead of trying to take a bus home by herself. Her friends were probably already asleep. I was only trying to help.”

“Well, I didn’t know all of that . The last snap didn’t load.”

Hui sighed, “So, is everything out now? Did everyone say what they needed to say?”

“Almost.” E’Dawn said. “I really am sorry that I didn’t try to talk to you properly. My anger and jealousy got the better of me.”

“And I was just being petty cuz you hurt my feelings, so I’m sorry too.” You replied.

Somin nearly jumped out of her seat, “Finally, omg.”

Amber agreed, “Like seriously, holy fuck.”

“So, titles?” You asked as soon as he had put food into his mouth.

“Soon.” He replied. “I want to make it special when we make it official.”

You rolled your eyes and the nine of you finished up eating before returning to your hotel rooms. There was about an hour left before it was time for curfew, so a couple of them decided to head to the pool that had a glass wall that was part of the gym nearby. Matthew went to the gym and pulled BamBam with him.

Hyojong, Amber, Hyuna, Somin, Hui, and you all went to the pool. Somin wore a tank top with her bathing suit as did Amber who was also in orange swim trunks and red flip flops. Hyuna went into the hot tub since she had slept wrong the night before and needed to loosen up some more since it still sort of hurt.

E’dawn jumped into the deep end while doing a cannonball. You had put your hair into a swim cap because you didn’t want it getting wet and taking forever to dry even after you washed it tonight. This way, you didn’t get any sort of water in your hair. You screamed as you were grabbed by the sides by an unknown source. Hyojong came up smiling and laughing.

You splashed him, “Oppa!” You called out, annoyed.

He started splashing you back and everyone got out of the way of the to playful lovebirds. Then everyone piled into the hot tub with Jiwoo. Even the boys came to the tub after washing off their sweat. Other teammates came out and the jacuzzi was able to fit 14 people into it total with nearly everyone sitting comfortably and two people in the middle. Then everyone dried off and went to their rooms before they got into trouble.

[Two Days Ago]

It was competition day. Everyone was doing warm ups and getting their makeup done. You were nervous as the lead, but you knew this was coming for months now. Luckily, even after the holiday season, everything still fit like it was supposed to. Before lunch, everyone performed the whole show real quickly and then the crew went out to eat on a ferry.

Hyojong and you ordered two different meals, but you two ended up sharing most of it. The others rolled their eyes every time you fed each other. Still, they were happy you two were still somewhat officially boyfriend and girlfriend.

Well, to clarify, this was competition day for co-ed groups. The boy and girl teams would perform at different times tomorrow. It was two hours until show time, and you were rocking on the balls of your feet to get out your built up energy. You didn’t want to overdo it on stage.

Hands slid around you waist and you almost jumped. You checked to see that it was E’dawn. He smiled at you and asked how you were feeling.

“Nervous. We’re the first group to go on since the team won last year, but being first is...I feel like my hands are shaking.”

He grabbed them, “I’ll hold your hands still for you then. We’re gonna do great, so don’t worry about it.”

You smiled as he came around and put his forehead to yours. He was such a huge comfort. Then he was called to go behind the small window set that was made for the show. You then got into the bed with Hui and J. Seph before being rolled out onto the stage.

Grown up Wendy and her children were waiting off stage opposite the bed. When the music started, they came on with Wendy holding a book. She was reading and began dancing with her oldest, a girl in a blue onesie. Then they kissed her cheeks and went “off to bed” passing the actual bed. Adult Wendy then looked at her Peter Pan book and slowdanced with it before looking at her bed and then going off stage.

Next song begins and there’s a knock on the window. the main part begins. You’re nervous, but you emote as you open up the window and get surprised by Peter Pan. You really are happy to see him. Hui and J. Seph are woken up by Tinkerbell Jiwoo who laughs at their surprise. The five of them dance together as the setting changes and the bed and window are taken away.

The story plays out with the Lost Boys being rowdy and lifting up the new guests and performing tricks for them to Skrillex. It was a great show that got a lot of gasps from the audience. They ain’t seen nothing yet. The scene soon changed to Hyuna Lily and girls in orange and turquoise hanboks doing their sword dance which allowed a break for the leads.

Lisa and the other girls looked so fierce with smiles on their faces and blades resting in the crook of their arms and somewhat on their forearms.They always had different practices until they got the hang of it. Then they had to perform in front of the others where proper spacing was learned. No once got sliced.

Then it was back on your feet for the battle with Matthew Hook and Somee. It was so much fun, but getting to do stylized capoeira was the best. After winning, more just wild partying and then it was time to go back home. Hyojong Pan helped your Wendy down and the two of you kissed even though it wasn’t part of the choreo.

You blushed and then waved at him as he jumped out the window and then you and your siblings ran off stage and past the bed. You were able to watch E’Dawn knock on the window and Adult Wendy wake up. Blackout. Everyone did a quick bow before running off stage and changing as quickly as possible to watch the other competitors.

It was over before you knew it. Ten groups were in this category, but only five stood on stage. The other ones didn’t make it to the top 3. Third place was given to a group that had done Hansel and Gretal.

A famous actor was calling out the prizes all night. It was finally time for him to announce first place.

“And coming in first, all the way from Seoul is Urban Shine! Applause!”

Everyone clapped and you turned to hug the person nearest you. Thinking it was E’Dawn, you were surprised when it was Vernon. In all the commotion, you had turned the opposite direction you had meant to for a hug. You both sort of shrugged since he had hugged you back. He motioned to Hyojong who you hugged tighter, and he grabbed the mic from the actor.

“I said I was gonna do this if we got first place here, so (Y/N), will you officially be my girlfriend? Titles and all?”

You nodded since this is what you wanted. You were his girlfriend. He was your boyfriend. The two of you were an official couple, and you weren’t going to miss this chance.

Amber leaned over into the microphone, “Fucking finally.”

Everyone laughed and he kissed you deeply. It was the greatest moment of your life other than getting accepted into college. First place and a boyfriend. That night, the whole crew went to go eat. Afterwards, it was straight to bed. You and your oppa were both very tired, and fell asleep texting each other.

[Today/Now]

After getting a tie for second place with the all girls team and the boys placing second alone, you all headed back to the hotel for the last night to get ready for the Dancer’s Banquet for all of the top five placing groups from every category. It was formal wear this year, but you said that you hadn’t brought anything particularly fancy.

It was more like you were nervous that the two outfits you had worn weren’t good enough despite what your roommies thought. Amber said she had you covered. From her suitcase, she pulled out several pink dresses and rompers since pink was the color picked this year. Everyone and their mother was confused as to why she had those with her.

“I like to be prepared, ok? Pick one.” A small blush was seen in her cheeks.

Her legs were badly chafed, so she wasn’t wearing going to be wearing the black suit she had brought. After you chose the frilly pink romper, she grabbed the longest dress and then realized she had a back up suit that was a lot looser. Then hair and makeup, jewelry and shoes. You undid your twists since you had kept them in so long for performances.

E’Dawn nearly died when he saw you and Amber as Jiwoo and Somin where whisked away by other boys who recognized them from earlier and had formed quick crushes. Hyojong was standing between Hyuna and Hui in the conference room where the banquet was being held. She nudged him and pointed to you. His heart wouldn’t start again but still heard the thumping in his ears.

A cutie by the name of Jimin got to you first in a pink pinstriped suit. He was in the boy group that got first place. He complimented you and said that he saw your performance yesterday, being a bit nervous.

You smiled and thanked him, smiling even bigger when you recognized E’dawn coming up beside you. He kissed your lips and you introduced Jimin to him. The two boys then started gushing about how talented the other was in the competition earlier.

“I literally do not know how we got first place.” Jimin said.

“Because you’re amazing, that’s how!” Hyojong replied.

“But we messed up so much! I messed up a bunch and you guys were so fucking clean!”

He shook his head, “I won’t have you saying you messed up. You talking about clean, and you guys were spotless.”

Jimin was then grabbed by the wrist from one of the other guys in his group and told about the chocolate fountain on the other side of the room. The two quickly scampered off to go see it.

Even as you two went to meet up with your closest friends in your groups, other people came up to praise your performances as Wendy and Peter. You also complimented them when you remembered who they were. If not, their outfit was the thing given praise.

Once you all got to the others, Hui smiled.

“Looks like everyone wants to be your friends.”

Hyuna smiled, “Or they hate your guts.” She pointed to a group of guys who were seething.

E’dawn had his hand around your waist, “It’s probably because I’m a drama queen. Asking you to be my girlfriend like that was really over the top. I’m sorry if it stressed you out.”

“It’s fine! I promise!” You said. “It was really sweet. A bit extra, but it made me happy.”

You kissed his cheek and he gave your lips a peck, holding you closer. Throughout the night, there were dance contests and fun things to do after eating the main meal. At some point, Hyojong asked if you wanted to go outside on the balcony.

It was getting hot inside, so you said yes. It was a nice view as the sea was right there and the waves were rolling beautifully. They crashed against the sand with a gentle roar. This side of the building didn’t have many lights other than a few lamps here and there.

You laughed.

He looked at you, “What?”

“I remember the first time I truly fell in love with you. It was when we were looking at the stars that night when I found Vernon making out with another girl. You didn’t tell me to just get over it but you comforted me.”

“Of course. We were friends first. Yeah, I had a crush on you ever since the first day I saw you walk into the library, but I still think your feelings should be cherished because they’re real no matter how fleeting.” He smiled softly. “Also, I was hella worried about you, so there’s that.”

You giggled, “I know this is gonna sound stupid, but I was actually thinking about leaving Korea because of that. I was just an emotional wreck but I--”

Hyojong kissed you and held your hand, “I’m really glad you stayed.”

Squeezing his hand, you replied, “Me too.”

Amber groaned behind you, exasperated, “Stop making out and come back inside!”

“Yeah,” Hyuna added. “You have some fans that wanna talk to you.”

She nodded towards the busy room. You and your boyfriend smiled and joined the party. You were glad you stayed, so very glad. It wasn’t the easiest life to have since it was just being made. Still, as you looked around at all the friends you had made you only had one thought.

So far, so good.

#Pentagon #Triple H #E'Dawn #Kim Hyojong #Reader x E'Dawn #E'Dawn x Reader #Black!Reader #Female!Reader #fluff #Pentagon fic #Pentagon fan fic #Pentagon fan fiction #Pentagon fanfic

4 notes · View notes

aviationfiction · 7 years

Text

XXVI

Dante St. James

“Your total today is five thousand four hundred and thirty two dollars and forty cents. How will you be paying sir?” I passed my American Express Centurion card off to the Apple sales technician while doing my best to concentrate on the e-mail I’d opened up on my phone.

I achieved what I deemed to be the impossible by signing on Apple for the sake of collaborative work in public relations and marketing. Over the course of three days of grueling meetings with Tim Cook and a team of seven other executives, where I did far more listening than speaking, I presented arguably one of the best business proposals of my career in hopes of even having a narrow chance to work with the number one hardware company on the globe. Unlike anything I’ve ever dealt with before, I allowed them to pick apart every line, bullet point, concept, and strategy I mapped out for a time frame of five to seven years. Aside from internet fodder that anyone has access to and can speculate about, I’ve never been behind the scenes or apart of any of their immensely classified meetings for their highly renounced products so there was quite a bit of improvisation meshed in with a ton of research I’d done to pull together this vision for sole dominance in every promotional avenue possible. I’d always known Apple to be a easygoing company in terms of approach and marketing style, but the pensive expressions on their pale faces left three days worth of sweat beads trickling among my neck. I never expected the applause, smiles, handshakes, and even welcoming hugs I received once we were in agreement about figures and myself being the sole partner and consultant for the account on the A&M side. In two weeks, I’m heading out to their new multi billion dollar campus headquarters in Cupertino, California for an official welcome and tour of the state of the art facility.

“Would you like your receipt e-mailed to you, printed, or both?”

“Uh. Both, I guess.” I used my finger to sign my signature on the digital receipt and quickly responded to yet another one of Mike’s text messages summoning me to the nightclub. It was the third one he sent within the last half an hour so I have no choice but to rush over there. I’d already been on my way but decided to stop once I drove past an Apple store. I haven’t physically been with Autumn since the morning after my birthday celebration and that was eight days ago. That morning, we were playfully fondling one another and she dropped her iPad on the marble flooring in my apartment and shattered the screen. Though she shrugged it off and mumbled that she’d replace it at some point, I made a mental note to grab her another one whenever I passed by one of the simplistic yet easily noticeable stores in the city. While here, I remembered her saying she left her laptop in Miami so I had Megan, the sales tech, add in the latest Macbook Pro with the iPad Pro I’d already picked out. Of course, she wouldn't be a great saleswoman without finessing me into grabbing the Apple Pencil for the tablet, Apple Care for both products, and additional physical protective accessories.

“Well, here’s your receipt Dante. Thank you so much for shopping at Apple today.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your service. You were a great help today Megan.”

“You’re so very welcome.” I stuck the receipt down into the bag and pulled the strings on it until it was sealed while making my way out of the store and over to my Aston Martin. I didn’t have a chance to rest in the seat and get my seat belt on before Mike was sending over another text message pondering about my whereabouts and what was taking me so long. Just as I was about to laugh off his urgency as him being purposefully dramatic, his follow up message about Issac Dupont showing up caught me off guard and left me riddled with confusion as I took off into the traffic filled New York City streets. Over this week of being apart, Autumn and I spoke a few times through FaceTime and phone calls, but for these past three days of meetings our few text messages back and forth turned into silence on both ends as I became consumed in trying to close that Apple deal and her with taking on the role of planning Meridian’s annual Christmas party. I can recall just about every word of every conversation we’ve held over the week and aside from the Christmas party, she never mentioned Isaac so his pop up is certainly nothing more or less than random.

“Come on taxi driver.” A huff slipped past my lips while I watched him move at a snails pace to get back into the passenger seat of the mustard yellow vehicle and drive off. I’d been driving fifteen minutes longer than I should have been just to get to Chelsea. Rush hour would be starting in another two hours and yet traffic is already hell. It’s times like this when Mike’s persuasive rants about why I should buy a house in New Jersey enters my subconscious but when I add in the reality of myself living in such a large space alone just like he is, I toss his idea out of the imaginary window yet again. I have Marv for those days when my patience for these streets are thin.

My car replaced the taxi driver’s in the usual spot I park in when I’m at the restaurant or club and I swiftly exited the vehicle. While adjusting my tie, I tossed the bag full of Apple products into the trunk of the car and disappeared behind the upper level golden door. As soon as I descending down the stairs, I spotted Issac standing at the bar with a glass of what I could tell was nothing more than juice and an expression of frustration written all over his face. Mike was no where in sight and that within itself was odd. He’s a people person and on any other day, he wouldn’t dare leaving anyone standing alone within our establishments if they were here to speak to Fredrick or myself. Something had to have been said or the vibe must have completely threw him off to the point of him needing to walking away.

“I’m not sure how long you’ve been waiting for me, but I’d just gotten out of a business meeting and I had something else to handle before I could make it over here. My apologies for the wait Isaac.” He nodded instead of acknowledging my sentiments verbally. His hand gripped the cocktail glass to the point of the tips of his fingers reddening and the tension radiating from his frame caused both of my eyebrows to rise in curiosity.

“You’re screwing my sister.” I’d pictured this moment in my head in multiple different scenarios but overall, I didn’t picture it happening one on one, nor with this type of response and yet I have no fear, hesitance, or doubt about myself or what I have with Autumn. If anything, I’m far more offended by what he assumes to be going on and how he’s belittled it to me using her for sex.

“Did she tell you that? I have to ask because if she did, I doubt she said it in such a shrewd and inaccurate manner.” Autumn’s the only person who I could assume would have told him about our relationship. No one on my end knows Isaac well enough to approach him with such information and despite his stares and what ideas he may have been concocting in that head of his, we’ve never done anything in front of him that pointed out what I believe is now the obvious. Autumn doesn’t speak to me in front of him unless he coerces her to do so and when she does, she refuses to make eye contact. Though it irritates the living hell out of me, she still references to me by last name in front of him, and we don’t communicate with one another on his company’s grounds. I considered sending her flowers just yesterday and I had to stop myself because there was a possibility that she would have either been flustered by such a risk or she would have been livid.

“Page Six. There was an article written about her that came out this morning. You know, though she may be in denial about it, people know who Autumn is. Whether she likes it or not, she has that cliche basketball wife title lingering over her head and it’ll be there forever. In the article it speaks about her being spotted around with a mystery man who she’s been seeing for months. In addition to that, it speaks about her being spotted leaving this nightclub hand in hand with said mystery man after his birthday festivities. Though the mystery man’s name isn’t mentioned, it is noted that he is said to be a wealthy and successful New York City business man. Based upon your file, your birthday was a few days ago right?” The glass rattled as it landed on the golden surface and splashes of it’s contents splattered around it.

“It was.” I slid my hands down into the pockets of my pants and my eyes narrowed at the way he was introducing this situation. I don’t read gossip sites. I don’t keep up with anyone’s business but my own and those around me and that’s to a certain extent. Sure, I’ve had articles written about me and there may have been a few on Page Six given that I’m a nightclub owner, but gossip? Never. Stacey would have told me. Surprisingly, I can’t believe I’m hearing this from him first. I don’t give a shit either way. Whether mystery man or Dante Elliott St. James is written all over the article, it doesn’t deter me from my everyday life and most of all, my woman.

“I’ve watched you and the manner in which you stare at her. I’ve questioned the random lies Rachel would tell me. Autumn’s budget reports from every trip taken would never make much sense but I sat on it and decided not to jump to conclusions although I should have.”

“Autumn and I grew close to one another and developed a bond that was not only undeniable, but also special. We didn’t expect to fall for one another but it happened. I believe that’s typically how natural attraction and acting on said attraction works. We got to know one another and in doing so, we continuously gravitated towards one another. Eventually that developed into the both of us wanting to be in a relationship.”

“A relationship?” His condescending laughter filled the space like something out of a movie. In all that he’d already said, I couldn’t exactly pinpoint what his anger was about and how he was going to go about handling it. His words don’t faze me, but the tension between he and Autumn affects her no matter how much she tries to brush it off as typical sibling friction. “Autumn just got a fucking divorce and you’re talking to me about a relationship with her. You have to be kidding me.”

“She got a divorce from a man that she wasn’t with for two years prior to the divorce. What’s your point?”

“I don’t think you know the details of Autumn and her poor choices in how she got into that marriage, what she gave up for that sham of a marriage, and the behaviors that she had while within what ended up being nothing more than bullshit.”

“I know everything.” I’m confident that there’s nothing he can say to me that she hasn’t already explained. She’s gone into detail about she and Andreas’ marriage in an approach that I never thought she would do it in. No woman has ever shared the inner workings of the former relationships or current relations with me in such a manner, not even Stacey. She took a raw approach and allowed me into the six years of her life she spent with and without him in such a vivid manner that I was left sympathetically wallowing in her sorrows and yet still trying to figure out how he could give up on someone who stood by and believed in him and them despite the toxicity of their union. I know enough to hear the pain within her voice lingering in my mind as I stare at her only living sibling who refuses to relinquish the pain of the past and move forward in a positive manner.

“Then what the hell are you doing?”

“Issac, I’m lost. What are you getting at?”

“She’s your flight attendant. Do you realize that?”

“Yeah.” I didn’t mean to shrug my shoulders so nonchalantly. It happened out of a reflex and that seemingly set him off even more.

“She doesn’t have shit going for herself. This is what I’ve spoken about with Autumn multiple times and she refuses to get it. She’s reckless, impulsive, erratic, and she lives her life in the moment. I should have known that she would do this shit once she started working for you because that’s just who she is. Instead of getting her life together, now she’s with you and you’re financing her. That’s not helping Autumn grow. You’re enabling her to be everything that she was with him and that resulted in her being a failure in so many aspects. You want that on your hands?” He’d officially put me into a maze and I was mentally trying to figure out every direction to take without insulting this man and yet every fiber of my being was in defense mode for all that he had to say about a relationship he knows nothing about and the woman that the both of us loves. Love makes this far more complicated than I need it to be because I can’t figure out a boundary.

“I’m not enabling anything. What is it with you and your negative outlook on everything that she does? Why are you so affected by the decisions that she chooses to make for her life? How is any of it hurting you? The past is the past. She’s no longer married and she’s moving on with her life. You have to allow her to do that in whatever capacity that she chooses to do so. You’re treating her and speaking on her as if she’s just gotten out of prison after committing a heinous act. She’s not a criminal Issac. She’s a human being that made very human choices. She’s doing so much better and I believe you know that, but you’re holding a grudge against her so this is how you’re getting back at her I suppose.”

“I’m not getting back at her. I want what’s best for her.”

“And you think I don’t?”

“You don’t know her.”

“By the way you’re speaking about her I’m more prone to believe that currently, I know her better than you do. This isn’t a competition for me by the way. She’s your sister. We play two different roles in her life and much like yourself, I only want and encourage Autumn to be and have the best. The progression that she’s made as a person is nothing less than incredible and you should be proud of her. The manner in which she handles her job and the way she respects the dignity of your company should tell you how much she loves and respects you. She’s precise, a quick thinker, and extremely intelligent. I don’t even think she recognizes how intelligent she truly is. I’m not enabling anything because she won’t allow me to do it nor will she allow you all to do it. I’ve spoken with your mother and one of the things she spoke with me about is how stubborn and headstrong Autumn is about getting her life together on her own terms without handouts from anyone. If she’s not letting you all get in the way of that, what makes you think she’s going to allow me to do so? She’s happier. She’s laughing more and living her life. She’s lost so much and she’s pushing forward. Give her a pat on the back for it. Why the hell would you continuously kick her down?”

“You said it yourself, my mother described her as stubborn and headstrong. Shane was always the one to enable the parts of Autumn that are erratic and all over the place while I was the one who pushed for her to stay focused on what matters.”

“And her being happy personally doesn’t matter?”

“It’s secondary.”

“That’s not for you to determine. That’s also a fucked up way of thinking, by the way.”

“What’s for me to determine is her working for me and being romantically involved with a client which is inappropriate. I’ve dealt with tons of unnecessary drama because of bullshit like that and the last person I want to deal with that from is my sister.”

“You’re not going to deal with that on this end because my personal life is exactly that. No offense to you, but I don’t see a reason to involve you or anyone else in it. Our work situations are irrelevant. I’m not stepping on your toes or hers. If she quit today, that wouldn’t change anything. I’m not out to hurt or make a fool out of your sister. I’m not that guy. I’m not Andreas either and right now, you’re speaking to me like I’m him.” Autumn’s purposeful distance from her family and their lack of truly getting to know her ex-husband has left all of them with resentment towards him that they’ve never been able to express to the person responsible for it. Though Autumn believes Isaac anger is all in reference to what she didn’t do professionally and her lack of attendance at his wedding, I know the majority of it is pent up emotions towards the man who hurt her in so many ways for so long. I’d feel the same way if I had a sister and she unraveled mentally and physically because of pain being inflicted upon her. Unfortunately, I cannot resolve those issues for any of them. All I can do is be an upstanding man for Autumn and take care of her in the manner that the guy before me didn’t.

“You’re not Andreas, but you’re coming too soon after Andreas.”

“That’s not for you to determine Isaac.” My shrug was intentionally this time. He cannot speak for her and I’m not going to allow him to. This is no Romeo and Juliet, forbidden love story.

“Is it that good?” He stood up straight and my condescending snicker eventually turned into a deep frown as his question replayed in my head.

“This is your sister we’re speaking about right now. Show her some respect.”

“Show me some respect.”

“I’m respecting you by entertaining a conversation that we technically don’t need to be having. Despite how you may feel or what you do or don’t want, I don’t have to ask for your permission to be in a relationship with Autumn. I don’t even have to ask you for her hand in marriage if that should come about between she and I. I’d like for you and I to get along as professionals and personally as well, but it’s not on me at this point. There’s no hostility on my end and I doubt there ever will be, unless it’s necessary. I love your sister and I’d rather not hear some type of if I love her, I’ll let her go and allow her to get her life together type of ultimatum because that’s not going to happen. Her life is together. She’s breathing, living, and progressing at her own pace. Whether that is or isn’t good enough for you, that’s perfect for me.”

“You love her?” I don’t know if my eyes deceived me when I noticed a bit of the tension in his shoulders loosening or if it was simply my emotions being in overdrive about a genuine truth I admitted to Isaac before I expressed it to the woman of my affections. I had to let it out one way or another and I didn’t want him to leave here today thinking anything less than that.

“I love her.”

Silence loomed between the two of us and our staring match didn’t falter as we remained in the same spots we’d been in throughout the entire exchange. There seemed to be nothing more to say and Issac proved that to be true when he grabbed the glass filled with cranberry juice, tossed all of it back into his throat as if were the most potent shot we serve, and walked past me to make his exit. As I began my walk to the office, I could hear the door close behind him and the tension he filled into the place left with him.

“What did he say to you?” Mike didn’t bother turning to face me. He was focused on the security monitors in front of him and whatever he was concentrated on was far more important than him turning to face me with silly banter or our usual manner of greeting one another.

“What?”

“You usually stick around if we have someone coming in for a meeting if Fredrick and I aren’t here yet. You’re courteous. What happened?”

“I wasn’t texting you about Issac Dupont being here. He just so happened to show up so I let you know. I also didn’t stick around with him because I was consumed with this shit. I had to come back in here to make sure I saw what I saw. Have you heard about or seen this shit?” He finally up glanced at me.

“Seen what?”

“This shit from the night of your birthday.” His finger tapped a button to rewind footage from the outdoor camera and he quickly stopped on a specific time frame. “You know I tend to go through the footage just to make sure things are flowing correctly and to catch whatever I wasn’t able to see while being consumed with whatever is happening in the moment. This shit threw me off. Look at this and tell me what you see.”

He pressed play and my stomach instinctively tightened at the sight of my brother and Autumn being within inches of one another. A force within me caused me to lean forward to get a better look at the monitor and I watched as he spoke to her. There was no way possible that I’d be able to make out what he was saying because the camera wasn’t zoomed in enough. Though I cannot read lips from a side profile, I could easily sense whatever was pouring out of his mouth was insolent because that’s all he knows how to be.

“Rewind it just a few seconds.” Mike did as I instructed and I watched Autumn flinch. She flinched at least twice. “Rewind it again.”

She flinched three times and took a step forward to create space between their bodies as she responded to him. Matthew invaded her space within a second of her moving and fury filled my core as I watched his fingers trail up the back of her thigh.

“You seen that shit right?”

“Rewind it again.” I watched it over and over again; at least eight times to take in every single minute, second, and millisecond of the man that is supposed to be my brother, intimidating and sexually harassing my woman. She’d gone from flinching, to frowning, to a chilling blank stare as she froze in place in reaction to his fingers igniting a fear within her.

“Dante…”

“Rewind it.”

I tortured my mind once more; further worsening the vexing of my being. What I felt was like anything I’d ever experienced before. I could feel a fire flushing through my veins and viciously creeping up every inch of spine, as the acidity residing in my stomach awaited the moment for me to allow it to flow out of my mouth by the way of a verbal attack. Every muscle in my face tightened in unison with my jaw and lastly, my fists balled to the point of aching as I glanced at Mike.

“Take a ride with me.”

Mike’s words of rationality were on deaf ears as I tried to the best of my ability not to test out the two hundred mile per hour speed maximum my car has the capability of doing to quicken the drive to Richard and Elizabeth’s Scarsdale, New York home. Between the traffic on the Bronx River Parkway and the sound of my horn irritating me far more than it did the drivers I was trying to rush out my way, the rage within me worsened beyond my control and was far beyond whatever influence to calm down Mike could get into my irrational mind.

“Dante!”

I didn’t bother with properly parking the car as I snatched the key out of the ignition and slid out of the drivers side. I left Mike to fend for himself.

For the first time in all of the years they’ve had their home, I used the key I’d been given to open up the door. The first person in my line of view was my mother and her olive green eyes lit up in glee at the sight of my presence.

“Hi sweetheart.”

“Where the fuck is he?” Her gleam dimmed instantly and confusion filled her expression as I brushed past her to find the source of my wrath.

“Who?”

Richard’s laughter from the kitchen gave away their location and my heart thrashed against my chest as my lungs tightened because of the pace I’d chosen to move in. Matthew’s position was on a stool at the kitchen’s island and I didn’t bother with any words as my fist connected with his jaw. I lost the ability to have visuals and detection of my surroundings. My mind strayed from the capability to exude logic and reasoning in my actions. The adrenaline within my frame heightened and the mission of my hands and feet was to destroy the source of my outrage. The piercing screens of the woman who birthed me and the stern voice of the man who helped her did nothing to stop the blows I was inflicting upon him and the few he was landing on me in self-defense and retaliation. I’d had many moments over our years of growing up together when I wanted to do nothing more than throw a punch in his direction for his bullshit and there were a few times during my pre-teen years when I actually wanted him to beat me down one good time so he’d finally get those resenting emotions out and be done with it. Though the spats were often and the violence was non-existent, I quietly knew one day it would happen. I could never pinpoint exactly when nor what it would be over, but of all the opposing things that have been said and done between the two of us, him violating Autumn supersedes all of it.

“Dante stop it!”

I could taste my own blood as it gushed from the inside of my mouth and rather than that being the signal to end the onslaught of blows, I spat it on him in hope that such a disrespectful gesture would further entice him to continue warring with me.

“That pussy must be phenomenal.” He could barely let out his laughter through his rigged breathing and I took a chance on my harshly aching hand. He avoided one fist only to collide with another and a black haze hovered over me as our bodies crashed into the island and glass went shattering.

Richard’s arms were tightly wrapped around my body; just about cutting off my air supply and signifying that a few of the blows Matthew landed on me did damage somewhere within my rib cage. I’d underestimated the strength within his sixty year old frame as he pulled me away from his son and put enough distance between us so the scuffle could finally end.

“This shit isn’t over. I’ll catch you slipping again and I swear on my life if you utter another word to her I’ll finish you off.”

“Alright Dante man, that’s enough.” It was the first time Mike said anything since my exit from the car. I hadn’t even noticed he came inside.

“Say to who? What is hell is going on here?” I thought Richard would be amused by such a moment between the two of us. He thrives off of the competition he created and gets joy out of making sure to keep the both of us humbled by slyly knocking one down for the other; it mostly being me. I figured he’d let us go at it until I was near the point of being in a casket. That just tells me I’d done enough damage to Matthew to alarm him.

“Get the fuck off of me.” I felt more pain in snatching myself out of Richard’s grasp than I did when those punches were landing on me. The shrilling sound of my mother’s voice calling for me was an afterthought as I made my way through the halls and out of the door. I didn’t want to spend another minute in that residence if I wasn’t going to be able to finish what I came to do.

“I’m driving you to the hospital.” Mike held my keys in his hands as I pressed against the drivers side of the car and I quickly shook my had to negate that.

“I don’t need a hospital. I’m fine.”

“Your mouth is gushing blood. You’re going to need stitches somewhere in there. We’re going. Get in.” I didn’t bother to argue with him about it as I slid into the car on the passenger size. I couldn’t. All I planned to do today was pick up Autumn, take her out for lunch at her favorite pizza spot, and head home so we could spend some time together until we fly out to Turks and Caicos tomorrow. When they say life throws you curve balls, I certainly experienced that today but I don’t regret anything. The conversation with Isaac was necessary and beating the shit out of my brother had to happen. There was nothing to talk about between he and I because there is nothing that I can say to him that will get through that demented mind he has.

From the moment a friendship developed between the two of us, I never wanted Autumn to meet my family. I was unnerved when we were conversing in Miami and she revealed that Matthew flirts with everyone at Blue Star and Meridian, despite having a wife. Though she didn’t elaborate on it, I wanted to be informed about his exact words to her so that I could put them to a stop immediately. At the time, it was less about myself and more about him being a vulture with no regard or respect for women; that aspect of him seems to be six feet under with his mother. Richard’s already paid to sweep two sexual harassment accusations about him under the rug and tossed under the table money at a number of news reporting publications to keep it out of their news reports. I’ve never sexually glanced at, lusted over, or flirted with a single employee since the day I was officially brought on board despite the advances, blatant staring, and supposedly innocent offers for lunch. I didn’t and still don’t want my brother’s reputation and the last thing I want to do is lay with the same women he’s been with.

Because there was only footage, I don’t know what he said to Autumn but his body language expressed his lust loudly. I’m not surprised by that because I expect it not only from him but from just about every man that encounters her whether taken or not. Her presence stops movement within rooms. Her beauty turns the head of bother genders. In all the times that we’ve been out and about somewhere on this continent, I’ve observed men reacting to her. My presence hindered their approach. I observed my own colleagues undressing and eye-fucking her at my birthday party when they assumed I wasn’t looking and though he's my brother, he's as much of a stranger to me as they are. I always expect the worse from Matthew, but I can take his ignorance. I’ll never allow him to direct that in Autumn’s direction. I will ruin his life before it ever gets that far.

“You feel better?” I don’t know how long Mike had been standing there watching us but he did absolutely nothing to stop the altercation and I’m amused and appreciative of it. He could have never shown me the footage. He could have chosen to never take the ride with me. He could have done his best to stop me from getting into that door but he did nothing. I’m now prone to believe he wanted all of it to happen because he too has a disdain for Matt. Had it been anyone else, Mr. Zen would have talked me out of it.

“I feel good enough.”

“Here man. Put this up to your face.” He passed me the hoodie he’d been wearing and I did as he instructed to save the interior of my car from bloodstains that a thorough detailing wouldn’t even be able to erase.

“Hopefully there aren’t a lot of people in the emergency room and they can take you right in. You have all of your information in your wallet? Insurance and shit?”

“Yeah, it’s on me. My fucking rib cage has this piercing pain. He kept punching me there.”

“Body blows. He was trying to get you to stop. You fucked him up though. I’ll tell you that much. Your Jon B ass face only has one bruise on it and then there’s the lip. I think it’s split from the inside.”

“I can feel it.”

“They’ll probably do a few stitches. I called Autumn by the way.” I quickly whipped my head in his direction and frowned at random revelation. “I didn’t know what you were going to do so I called her because you weren’t going to listen to me and I kind of didn’t want you to, so I was going to let her be your voice of reason but by the time I got inside, it was too late.”

“So why did you call her?”

“You were going to have to explain yourself one way or another.”

He pulled the car over at the White Plains Hospital emergency room entrance so I wouldn’t have to make the trek with him from the parking lot and I headed inside to resister myself to receive some type of service. Either they were having a slow day or my lip looked worse than I thought because they offered to take me in and have registration done from an examination room. I’ve never been a fan of going to the doctors or having people putting their hands all over me for whatever reason it may be, so the nurses and doctor checking my vitals, cleaning my lip and bruised cheek, and constantly asking me questions that I didn’t care to answer ruined my calm.

“They’re going to do x-rays of your face and your rib cage.” Mike felt compelled to finally glance up from his GQ magazine to make his presence known despite seeing me exasperated by all that continued to go on around me. I’d heard the doctor loud and clear for that part. Him speaking about the swelling in my lip and the bruising on my rib cage entered one ear and went right out of the other because I was too focused on my phone to truly pay attention and the pain killer administered by the nurse probably played it’s part in that too. Medicine is another thing that I dislike but the sensitivity and pain I felt with every move I made outweighed my ego.

“Is he in here?” My head rose at the sound of a voice I not only wasn’t expecting but most of all didn’t want to hear and I huffed once she drew the curtain back and stared at me with a frown on her face that I hadn’t seen since I threw a football and shattered the glass of her china cabinet when I was twelve. It’s moments like this when I lean in the direction of her possibly loving me but then I have to realize that at some point during whatever conversation we choose to have, she’s going to tread in an area that will further enlighten me on how much she actually doesn’t. I’ve yet to figure out what she feels. Is she indebted to me because I passed through her birth canal or am I something to gloat about when she’s draped in diamonds and furs while having pretentious tea parties with the women she deems to be her friends? Am I a physical example of the love that she shares with her husband or am I the nuisance that mistakenly became of it?

“What the hell has gotten into you?” I didn’t expect her to ask about my health, how I felt, and if everything was alright. I’d did some damage to her kitchen, disrespected her home, and most of all attacked the child that she caters too most although he’s technically not hers. I crossed a couple of lines. “Do you hear me speaking to you?”

“I don’t have to answer to you.”

“Dante Elliott St. James, you broke his nose, blacked his eye, and chipped one of his teeth.”

“That’s it?” My attempt to smirk was far more painful than I needed it to be but I still did it just enough to further nettle her.

“I don’t know. That’s all the doctor has said thus far. You can please talk to me about what caused all of that? I really want to understand what brought you to the point of violence. That’s not like you.” I didn’t bother to answer because she’ll never understand me. She never has. Our conversations have always been one sided and filled with her opinions and emotions on who I am and the state of our relationship. She’s never gravitated towards my side no matter how I felt or how valid my points were. She thought I could handle it all and eventually, it didn’t matter to her anymore which is why I was shipped off to London. I don’t ever recall having a heart to heart with my mother because she’s oblivious to what doesn’t directly affect her. For as long as I was laced in designer clothing, sleeping in a bedroom filled with whatever I supposedly wanted, fed, attending the best schools, and not punching holes through walls and breaking laws like Matthew, I was fine in her eyes. I accepted my black sheep position within the St. James family and I’ve been living it for thirty years. I’m fine with it at this point, for as long as they stay out of my personal space, and that’s a boundary that they’re respecting less and less these days.

“You alright in here?” Richard stepped beyond the curtain and took a good look at me. As he stood there with his hands stuffed down into the pockets of his slacks, I nodded and returned my attention to the unanswered text messages on my screen. Autumn hadn’t responded to the two I sent and I didn’t know whether to be worried or panicked.

“I didn’t know you could fight.”

“Richard. Please. Okay?” Her hand quickly flew up to cease his amusement and she stared at me with disdain while awaiting an explanation that was never going to happen. She stood there staring at me for so long that her companion walked away and left her to it.

“Dante. Fighting is not you. Is it really over a woman?”

“Ask him.”

I finally decide to properly utilize the bed and I laid back against it’s uncomfortable surface. My body was giving in to the potent pill’s side effects no matter how much I fought against it and I suddenly felt like I weighted far more than I actually do. The last thing I remember was Mike warning me that my sleep wouldn’t be long.

I only hoped that it would be long enough for her to have left my personal space.

“Mr. St. James. We’re going to stitch your lip now. You may not remember because you quite groggy but we did the x-rays. There are no fractures in your face nor are there any fractures or bruises within your rib cage. You most likely pulled a muscle. There’s really nothing we can do about that other than letting it heal and that should take about a week or two. You’ll probably feel some pain when you take deep breaths and during movement, so we’ll prescribe some ibuprofen to help with that. Take them as needed. Ice packs help and most of all, rest. If you can get some rest for a couple of days, that should do you some good. You have a pretty deep cut in the inside portion of your lower lip. We’re going put about four or five sutures in there and that should heal within two weeks. You can either come back to the hospital or go to your primary care doctor to have those sutures removed. Do you understand?” I don’t remember the x-rays or the length of time that I slept. It didn’t feel like a long or short length of time. I oddly felt like I was out of it and like I could do nothing more than let whatever was happening take it’s course.

“Does he ice his lip as well?” Her soothing voice filled my ears and for the rest time in hours, the tension in my body subsided and chills trickled along my spine and the nape of my neck. My eyelids shot open and my head twisted in search of her physical form and I found the other worldly beauty standing along side the bed and glancing down at me in a distressed state. The frown on her face filled me with guilt and yet I could still do nothing more than admire the beautiful presence that stood in an establishment full of life and death.

“He can, if he wants to.” I placed my hand on hers as it held onto the railing of the bed and she immediately laced our fingers together. She didn't bid me a smile. Her eyes were scolding me for my actions and most of all for being in such a place for all the wrong reasons, in her opinion.

“Did you just get here?”

“I’ve been here for twenty minutes.” We were unexpectedly alone; no Mike. He mostly likely left so I could feel her wrath on my own. Her piercing eyes were filled with the beauty that they always contain but the pain in looking at me a bit bruised up slightly overshadowed it. Still, she said nothing. She simply held my hand while her eyes followed the doctors every move to make sure he handing my lip properly. She questioned every move he made from the shot of Lidocaine he injected into my lip for numbing to the type of stitches he’d be using so I wouldn’t have any allergic reactions.

“Everything looks good Mr. and Mrs. St. James. The nurse will bring back two prescriptions for you; one is an antibiotic to prevent any potential infections and the other is for the pain. You’ll also get a couple of papers with some instructions for taking care of that lip. Then you’ll sign your discharge documents and you’re free to go.”

“I appreciate all your help.”

“It was my pleasure.” He closed the curtain to give us privacy as Autumn shook her head and grabbed my face to exam the bruise on my cheek.

“Mike told them that I was your wife so they’d let me in.”

“I figured it was something like that. Where is he?”

“He went to get a cup of coffee from the cafeteria.”

“Did you see my parents?”

“No.” That was exact the answer that I wanted to hear.

“Baby, I’m okay. You don’t have to stare at me like I’m not going to get up and walk out of this bed within the next ten minutes.”

“But you’re not okay. The last time we were on FaceTime with one another, you were okay. Right now, you’re laying here with a bruise on your cheek, a busted lip, and your chest is hurting. That doesn’t sound like someone who’s okay to me Dante.” There it was. The contempt written all over her face had finally come out of her mouth and I grimaced at the tone she chose to use. I knew she’d be upset but not to this capacity.

“I’m fine Autumn.”

“Okay.” Her lips thinned as she pursed them together. She still held onto my hand while awaiting the nurses arrival but she had nothing else to say to me. Her silence disgruntled me more than it should have and had the nurse and Mike not broken it within minutes, I’m certain an argument would have happened in the midst of myself trying to get her to speak to me.

“All set?” Mike bought a hospital t-shirt from the gift shop for me to wear home because my white Tom Ford shirt was no longer wearable. He’d also gotten me a milkshake to cure the hunger I hadn’t even complained about just yet.

“I am. How’d you get here?” Autumn flung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed the plastic bag containing my now ruined shirt and the papers I’d left on the bed.

“Glen. He dropped me off.”

“Autumn if I drive back to the club so I can get to my car, will you drive him to get the prescriptions and then to his apartment?”

“Yeah, that’s no problem at all.”

“I can drive. I feel fine.” I wasn’t as groggy as I felt prior to falling asleep. Sure I was still sightly floating but it was manageable.

“They gave you Vicodin for the pain. You’re not driving anywhere.”

Suddenly my best friend and girlfriend felt like my parents as they left me to trail behind them while they discussed my state and just how I’d be looked after for the time being. There was no room for me to give any input because Autumn had no interest in hearing me out and Mike kept his attention on her out of respect and probably intimidation that he wouldn’t admit to having. While in the car, Autumn sat in the backseat so I’d have the option of stretching my legs out and we barely had anything to say to one another for the forty five minute drive back into the busy streets of Manhattan.

“I’ll call you and check on you tonight. Alright?” Mike extended his fist in my direction and I bumped it with my own and gave him a nod of my head.

“Thanks for rolling with me.”

“Where else would I be? Besides, I’m posting that shit on World Star Hip-Hop.” I smirked because the pain would have been unbearable if I laughed. Hell, it would have been unbearable if I winced in response to the pain from the laughter.

“Make sure they cut a check first.”

“Aye, you know me. I always make sure the numbers are right. Rest up brother.” Once he was out of the drivers seat and outside of the car, he the shut the door and had yet another brief conversation with Autumn about God knows what. I didn’t care to ease drop. Not only did I want to do nothing more than go to sleep, but I was more focused on making it to the pharmacy so I could fill those prescriptions before whatever they gave me in the hospital wore off.

“What pharmacy do you usually go to?” I looked on as she put her seat belt on and shrugged in honesty. I don’t have a specific pharmacy. The last time I filled a prescription was three years ago and I wasn’t even in New York when I did it.

“I think I have an account with Walgreen. So we can stop by any one of them.”

“Okay.” Silence again. At every red light, she fingers tapped on the steering wheel in aggravation and refused to look at me no matter how many times I adjusted myself in the seat just to draw her attention. Though she’d consider the figure fitting black maxi dress and the white Converses she paired with it as something she just threw on, I was left to just about drool over how it hugged every curve and crevice of her unrivaled form. My mind transitioned to lust filled thoughts of all the ways I wanted her once we were in the privacy of my apartment. Fuck the pain. She’d cure it.

“So you’re going to give me the silent treatment for the rest of the day?”

“What do you want me to say Dante?” I’ve never been indifferent about my name until now. It flowed from her lips with venom.

“What exactly are you mad about?”

“You can’t be serious right now, right?” Her laughter was filled with disbelief and hints of emotional exhaustion. “You fought your brother and based upon what Mike explained, it was over me. Do you think I’m going to approve of that? I don’t ever want you fighting and especially over me. You can’t even go to work. Look at your face. Just imagine what they’re going to say around that building if they find out that you two were at one another in such a capacity. You’re so much more rational than that and you posses more logic than most people do. I’m pissed that you felt compelled to do that. I don’t want to be the cause of you doing that type of shit.” My attention left her and my eyes panned over the melting pot of humans walking along the sidewalks. I heard every word she said and yet they’re probably the most pointless ones she’d expressed to me since we met.

“What did he whisper in your ear?” I needed to hear the answer to that more than anything else she has to say about what happened.

“I’m not telling you. Why, so you can go and start another round? Your brother is an asshole. You know that much better than I do. He said some asshole shit and I’m sure you know that based upon what you saw. I didn’t feed into it. That’s really all I have to say about it.” My body straightened in the seat and I whipped my head back in her direction. Her dismissal of my question was fuel thrown on the budding fire between the two of us.

“What did he say Autumn? And why didn’t you tell me what happened in the first place? After I parked the car and returned to you, you pretended like everything was just fine although that shit happened. Why wasn’t I notified of it then?”

“Because everything was just fine. That didn’t ruin my night and I wasn’t about to let it ruin yours. Don’t turn me into a villain because I didn’t want to ruin my man’s birthday with his brother’s bullshit. We were having a good time and we continued to do so even after they left. We went home that night in peace. That’s what the night was about. Should I have enticed you to swing on the man then? In front of your colleagues and friends? Be realistic.” She parked the car on the corner of Broadway and pointed at the Walgreen down the street. There was no way possible she’d be able to move closer to it.

“You should have told me. We’re honest with one another. We’ve been that way since the start so why would you ever feel compelled to keep something from me, especially some shit like that. How am I supposed to feel?”

“Spared. Give me the prescriptions and I’m going to need your identification and insurance card. I’m not sure if they’re going to give it to me but we’ll see. If not, you’re going to have to go inside.” She held her hand out for the papers that were resting on my lap and I didn’t budge. Yet again an answer of hers was the complete opposite of what I was looking for and didn’t make much sense in reference to this situation.

“Spared? Spared of what? I’ve been dealing with him since I was three years old. You’re not sparing me from anything, but I’m so glad that you thought one night would make all the difference.”

“Great. I’m so glad to know that you don’t appreciate the effort I put forth in trying to make sure your thirtieth birthday went smoothly. You’re welcome.” She reached over and swiftly snatched everything off my lap. I was on the verge of biting my lip to refrain from responding but the swelling and unpleasant sting of the sutures halted me. Her attitude didn’t falter as she reached between the two front seats and snatched her neon green bag out of the backseat. As she requested, I handed over what she asked of me.

“Don’t try to paint it as me being unappreciative because we both know that isn’t the case. It’s about me looking out for you. Is that not what I’m supposed to do? You were looking out for me right, so am I not allowed to reciprocate that?”

My question went unanswered just as the others did. I didn’t expect her to welcome me with open arms and applaud my actions. I know who she is and what is inexcusable by her standards though I firmly stand by my actions and the reasons why they took place. She’s protective of those that she cares and she would have taken a swing at Matthew for me before she ever encouraged me to do it for her. She’s a giver and not much of a taker. She compromises and sacrifices far more than she ever should have to. She’d deal with Matthew’s ignorance for the sake of sparing me of it even if it’s for a night but I can’t respect or fall in line with her not allowing me to play my part in my half of our relationship. I’m protective of those that I love and care about. I’m a giver. I know how to compromise and make sacrifices. I will go to war with whoever for the sake of sparing those that I love from pain and disrespect, especially when they’re innocent. Matthew targeting her wasn’t an indirect attack on me, it was as direct as he can possibly get it.

I had a twenty minute conversation with Stacey, who wanted every single detail down to the attire I was wearing during the altercation, and Autumn still didn’t return until ten minutes after my phone call ended. While waiting for the prescription to be filled, she went shopping in the store for at least four bags worth of products. The drive to my apartment sounded like typical medication commercial where the pros and the cons of whatever pill is being advertised. She ran down every possible side effect of the typically prescribed pain killers and had even purchased an over the counter substitute if they should start effecting me negatively. She didn’t stop when we were walking into the building I reside in and nor did her medication talk cease while we were taking the elevator up to my apartment. I would have rather her continue giving me the silent treatment instead of her suddenly morphing into a walking pharmacist who had nothing better to do other than to speak about work.

“I bought you some ice packs. I’m going to put them into the freezer now and once they’re nice and cold, you should put them on your chest to keep the swelling down and for pain relief. I’ll make you a sandwich or something to hold you over until I cook something. You need to take the medicine before whatever they gave you at the hospital completely wears off.”

“I spoke with your brother today.” She halted once she opened the freezer and eventually nodded her head as she tossed the gel filled plastic pads inside of it.

“Yes, I know. You’ve had quite an eventful day. He cursed me out twice.” Her starting sarcasm wasn’t enough to obscure what she mentioned immediately after it.

“He cursed you out?”

“Twice.” Her verification came with a smirk and those scolding eyes she’s been giving me since I opened my own in that stale examination emergency room pierced through me. Her frustration was clear, as was mine, but hers stole her cool and has had her zipping around like a bee and lost in her thoughts since she arrived to be by my side.

“I didn’t know he would show up. He began speaking about some Page Six story and…” before I could finish the rest of my statement, she interjected it for her own.

“And you confirmed it.”

“Was I supposed to lie?”

“You were supposed to wait until I was ready to tell him.”

“And when would that have been? When we’re married?” The statement flew out of mouth before I could regain control over my discontentment with her mood and the day. My shoulders sunk in unison with my internal thoughts and emotions as I watched her eyebrows rise in response to my words.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for that to come out that way. I apologize baby.”

“Right.”

“Autumn.” My sigh was loud and I rested my elbows on the island as she rummaged through the fridge for the ingredients to put together my favorite type of sandwich.

“You should just stop talking. That works too.”

I took her advice.

We were trapped in our thoughts as she continued on with her task without much regard or acknowledgement of my presence. Once the pills were down my throat, she sent me off to the bedroom with the plate and a bottle of Gatorade to wash it down with. My attempt at a nap was a failure until she adjusted the pillows on the bed for the sake of my comfort, positioned the ice packs on my chest, and shut the redundant ESPN off so I would stop distracting myself. I yearned for her to lay beside me but it was a wish not granted. I craved her lips on mine, but I’d seen more of her back as she walked away from me than her beautiful face and perfectly shaped supple lips. I desired her touch, but all I was left with was the sound of her being everywhere within my home except where I was.

And still, she looked after me.

I love her and I know now more than ever that she is on the same accord.

She showed me better than she could tell me.

That’s an honor I’ll defend at any given moment.

#j. cole fanfic #j cole fanfic #j. cole fanfiction #j cole fanfiction #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #rihanna fanfic #rihanna fanfiction

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spockandawe · 7 years

Text

So, Kaput.

You guys, I think we’re all out of good boys. There are no more good boys to be had. Because I’m pretty sure Kaput needs to join Terminus in gay baby jail.

Behind a cut for length.

And also let me start by saying that I love this. I didn’t have a way to get emotional purchase on him before and now I do. That being said. This is going to start from a suspicious place. He’s had little enough screen time that the build from zero to >:O wouldn’t be that satisfying. But my goodness do I have receipts to back me up.

Okay, so who even is this guy? Well, mostly we don’t know. He was around in the background here and there, heavy emphasis on background. But we do particularly see him show up in the text stories that go with Last Stand of the Wreckers. And there’s one especially interesting tidbit.

Kaput was the one who said Ironfist was a dead man walking, and he said made that call ‘too quickly for Ironfist’s liking’. Okay, not that suspicious, it’s totally understandable that Ironfist would be upset about this and not want to admit that he’s really truly dying a slow, inescapable death. But what do we hear later?

Um??

So that’s two doctors saying as sure as anything that they could have saved him. Not that there might have been a chance, they’re saying they could have done it. First Aid isn’t even technically a full doctor when we meet him on Delphi, he’s a nurse (just demoted because of the autobrand-examining fixation and the psych evaluation, but hey). And just look at the other injuries Ratchet repairs. Look at the scope of the war and the crazy injuries any medic would have been exposed to. Even if Kaput didn’t know how to do it, couldn’t he have sent the info to… any other doctor? Anyone?

This is an awfully suspicious call to make is all I’m saying.

Pure ridiculous speculation: Ironfist got that injury developing the cerebro-sensitive bullets. And when those were done, the ethics committee nixed them, saying it would be a war crime to use them in almost any situation. And we also hear about the Gideon’s Glue inquiry, where another horrifyingly deadly creation of Ironfist’s was somehow leaked to the Decepticons. We even see/hear about the aftereffects of that mess in the section with Rung and Flattop. Ironfist was right at the middle of these two projects, and when an accident happened, a doctor was like oh, yeah, you’re definitely dying, this is super untreatable.

I don’t want to say that someone told Kaput to let him die (especially if Brainstorm was doing design work at the same time and got off scot-free), but this is interesting and just begging for speculation to happen.

But! Back to canon. The first thing in the comic that Kaput does is roll on in and pick up Anode after Tailgate accidentally, uh, impales her. The first time we hear him speak is when she’s waking up.

You took her stuff? My first thought is that hey, not cool. My second thought is that no, if he’s going to operate on her, he’d need things to be out of the way, that’s fair. But look at his own words. It was a nasty wound, but localized. He was operating on her stomach. Why was it necessary to take things out of a compartment by her shoulder? And we don’t see anything to suggest he emptied those compartments conveniently right there for us to see on her hips. Mister doctor man, why are you meddling with your patient’s personal possessions?

(Especially when those possessions just so happen to tie conveniently to his own medical area of expertise and lead conveniently to exciting medical experiments involving the personal possessions he was meddling with)

Now, a lot of the Terminus meta meant looking at his words and actions outside the framing that made it so easy to see him as a decent guy. Then the bitterness and his controlling ways really show up. But even without context, Kaput is so nonthreatening and friendly and helpful. He spends all his time helping people! But let’s look at the way he just wedged himself RIGHT into the middle of the narrative.

For an awesome look at some of the thematic elements of the story and Kaput’s role in them, you should definitely check out the meta by @sunderedstar written here. It’s super interesting stuff. I’m less good for thematic analysis. I’m better at compiling discrete events and looking at them like hard data. So that link has storytelling and fairy tales. But what I’ve got is that when you pull the screencaps together, by LL07, Kaput has lodged himself in every single major thread of the plot we touch on.

(pedantic: except for the two whole panels worth of chromedome and rewind talking to rung)

He’s in the middle of the Anode (+Lug+Velocity+Nautica) tangle.

He’s most of what Brainstorm and Nightbeat talk about in their very brief appearance.

He’s at the center of the action with Ultra Magnus and the armor, which brushes up against the rest of the old ship officers.

And my goodness me is he involved with the Tailgate stuff.

Remember, this is a rando who we’ve barely even seen before LL02. Even Megatron didn’t invade every storyline quite that extensively when he joined the crew. And he’s Megatron. This is just… Some Guy.

But what’s weirdest is just how… central he is. Not just that he’s everywhere. But suddenly there are three urgent medical events, plus two minor ones, and they all go to him. There are piles of new mechs on this planet, and the only ones who get any attention at all in all of LL07 are Kaput and Fangry.

This is slightly out of order, but check out this panel again.

Nightbeat is brilliant. It’s his thing. And not only did Kaput beat him to the punch in terms of trying to decode the flowers, he landed on an answer before Nightbeat even started working on the problem. Brainstorm even calls it ‘stealing his thunder’. Kaput is seriously at the center of everything.

Anode grabs this random stranger and is immediately down for her one and only shot to try this complicated, tricky blacksmithing thing she’s never done successfully before. No prep, no getting to know you, just damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead. Which… is honestly pretty in-character for Anode :P

So this is the storyline where his presence is most understandable, and Velocity and Nautica staying out of the mix with the blacksmithing procedure is understandable too. But this is honestly the medical subplot where he has the least presence as a person. He does give Anode the feedback from the monitoring equipment, which is what she uses to adjust her blacksmith… thing, but not much past that.

Minimus Ambus, why are you bringing your armor problems to Kaput?

One, you’ve known Ratchet since forever. Two, Ratchet already has very thorough knowledge of how your armor works. Three, you were surprised he had this knowledge. Why are you going to Kaput over this?

This isn’t even a spark-related issue, your best guess is physical damage, why did you bring this to Kaput?

Um. And why are you so distressed at the idea that Kaput isn’t coming with you? Why are you pinning your hopes on him? You have two medics already. You have an impressively high medic concentration. Ratchet is an expert in everything, he’s demonstrated that he has longstanding knowledge of your armor, and you trusted him enough in MTMTE 40 to tell him about the little figurine that you thought was meant to mock you.

Yeah, this all is kind of… weird.

Kaput didn’t really do anything suspicious during the blacksmithing procedure. But first, from a narrative perspective, that was way too easy. Lug’s doing fine physically and mentally and she has most of her memories, and Anode patched things up on the trust/communication front right away? I don’t trust one tiny little bit that things are happily wrapped up on the Lug front. And also, oh my god, just look at that wording. Lug is doing improbably well? I’ve never seen anything that suspicious in my entire life (I love it).

Nautica, why are you bringing your eye problems to Kaput?

You also know two other medics. Who you have known for longer than him. One of them is the Chief Medical Officer and is an expert in all the things. And the other one you’ve been friends with for years and you just, just finished amica-marrying her. Why on earth are you bringing your medical problems to Kaput??

And also… her eye wasn’t injured, as far as the art went. Her face was injured, but her optic was always drawn looking intact.

So this is also pretty weird.

And now we’re in the land of incoherent. What on earth is even happening here. I guess armor… could be designed that way, if you really really wanted to, and put a lot of effort into developing a ‘personality sensor’.

But like, just look at those words. ‘Personality sensor’. That sounds ridiculous.

And this is a suit that has been worn by many people over the years, presumably people with different personalities. But. All of them have had to let their own personality be subsumed by the single continuous identity and legacy of ‘Ultra Magnus’. Designing this armor to require a strong, consistent sense of self sounds like the worst possible idea.

That’s apart from how everyone was in a long war, and folks have been getting screwed up left and right. Admittedly, Cybertronians have been a little slow to the punch with the whole mental health care thing. But shellshock, come on, people have been able to recognize at least some signs of PTSD for a long fricking time. The people wearing this armor. Are in a war. Where sufficient trauma can pretty severely screw up your mind, your sense of self, your conception of who you are.

Let’s make the armor dependent on being calibrated to sense one specific personality before it’ll work! That can only end well.

And anyways, I can’t see Ultra Magnus’s thing here as anything but unhealthy. Whatever was up with the armor, I don’t think an aggressive return to black-and-white thinking is at all healthy. He might be mobile now, but this isn’t good for him in the long run. He had a whole quiet personal crisis over this exact thing before, and now he’s being nudged in the opposite direction.

Also, Minimus Ambus thought there was a physical damage problem with his armor, and then Kaput comes right back and says that nooo no no it’s definitely personality-sensing magic. I mean science. I don’t know what to think, but I do think it’s suspicious that Kaput was examining the armor and then it stopped working even harder than before.

First, it worries me that Tailgate is putting blind faith in someone’s good intentions again. The Getaway thing is still pretty fresh. He and Cyclonus just had a mini-fight about Tailgate getting close to other people when Tailgate was trying to push him away. But then he turns right around and trusts Kaput just like that.

(Given his responses when he’s told about the dangers of this treatment, I do bet it’s at least partially because he’ll do anything to fix this problem, so he stops being a danger to Cyclonus. But he also is prone to thinking the best of people, and it’s come back to bite him multiple times)

Wait, what?

Okay, Cyclonus coming to Kaput to tell him about Tailgate, and telling him to treat Tailgate’s injuries, that makes sense.

But Cyclonus told Kaput that Tailgate had an abnormal spark?

First of all, the super strength originated with a traumatic event. The other people affected by the spark spasm suffered eventual negative side effects. It only makes sense that mister epicenter here would eventually have some problems of his own.

Cyclonus said it was like Tailgate was trying to claw out his own spark, but that doesn’t exactly match these words. Blaming an abnormal spark… the connotations of ‘abnormal’ make this sound more like a birth defect. Not a recent development. And Cyclonus is usually very good about deferring to experts and trusting their experience and knowledge in their own field. We just saw that last issue with Brainstorm. He handed off Killmaster’s wand, said ‘I’m sure you can figure this out’, and… trusted him to figure it out. This doesn’t sound like him.

I am a fan of fixing up Tailgate, but wow, what a convenient, immediate offer of a solution. Buddy, you haven’t even examined the guy yet, there’s no evidence you read Velocity’s reports on the original issue, and I don’t trust you at all when you talk about Cyclonus saying it was totally this thing, this is definitely what’s wrong. You haven’t even looked at him and you’re saying ‘hey, check out this convenient offer of assistance!’

I don’t trust you.

You haven’t even examined him yet and you’re talking about depowering his spark? A potentially fatal procedure? When you haven’t even looked at him?

And also you just said you might be able to find a solution, but now the solution is totally to depower his spark? You’re moving the goalposts so fast that I missed that completely on the first writeup of this meta.

Oh look, Kaput hasn’t told Tailgate anything about what’s going to be done to him.

Also, “inescapable.” So much D:

More things Kaput never mentioned to Tailgate.

Oh my god, he didn’t even tell Tailgate how long the procedure is supposed to take.

Moments before you enter this impenetrable box that is barely larger than you, let me just tell you that you’re going to be stuck in there for six solid months with no food, no nothing. Just you. Alone.

I also didn’t tell you about the slow painful death part until after I built your underground radiation coffin

Good lord, that wouldn’t be comfortable for a day, never mind six months. Why not build it large enough for like. A bed and a chair? Space to stand?? This is creepy, bro.

Oh my god, he never even told Tailgate whether or not he’d be able to talk to anyone for those six solid months.

I’m not happy about the situation Fangry sets up for Tailgate here. However, I am also not terribly distraught to see Kaput’s decapitated body.

But for the last bit of medical sleaziness, look at Kaput just casually leaking patient info to some rando who wandered into his office and decided to cozy up to him.

I pretty much understood what Terminus was aiming for, once I went back and reread. I am totally lost when it comes to Kaput, but wow do I not trust him.

And I don’t trust that he’s gone either.

Kaput told Anode some weird stuff about how there can be bleedover between a spark and a brain. Kaput’s brain is… nominally gone.

But you know, it’s remarkable. It’s like I can remember something from the long long ago days….. Almost like a few issues into MTMTE we met a doctor who seemed like a decent guy at first, then turned out to be extremely not-decent. It’s almost like we saw that doctor very-probably die. And then he came back later and he very-probably died again, this time complete with a missing head.

Lemme just--

Hm.

We see Rung, Red Alert, Metroplex, Whirl, and (it’s gonna happen) Pharma surviving having their heads blown up, or their brain modules severed from their spark for a period of time. Whirl survives the soft termination in the holiday special. Windblade took Metroplex’s brain on an adventure without worrying that he was going to die right away. We hear Cyclonus reference Rossum’s rule of thirds, which seems to tie back to how long a spark can survive while being severed.

Kaput worked in a research facility where they did theoretical work, but also developed new technology for use in the war. He worked alongside Brainstorm, mister mad science. He’s a spark specialist, he’s a medic, and it’s extremely speculative (but also extremely plausible) that he tried some things out on himself. Things like maybe a built in emergency spark support system. Or relocating his brain module from that obvious, vulnerable head down into somewhere in his more-shielded torso.

And now, let’s get silly and speculative about writing techniques, because it’s fun and I live for this kind of thing is why

All covered by the end of season one (except the Brainstorm thing that got cut off), pretty straightforward once you know how the story goes. But now. For fun. Recalibrate to look at the time-traveling warning message in terms of where the Lost Light at the end of season two stood before everything went to hell.

Abort the mission. Do not leave Cybertron. - Or, abort the mission, don’t leave the Lost Light?

Don’t open the coffin. - Don’t open the Necrobot’s pods?

Don’t let them take Skids. - I’m snickering, but I feel very bad about it

Don’t go to Delphi – Random chill side quest to another planet early in the story that goes right to hell? So... don’t go to functionist!Cybertron? (we even learn that Tarn Glitch lives there)

Do not—I repeat do not—look in the basement – Don’t look in the basement… of the planet? :DDD

And for the sake of the Cybertronian race itself, don’t trust Brainstorm – You know, I left this off at first, since it didn’t show up in the original issue one message. But given Nightbeat’s joking comment about Brainstorm breaking the rules of science. I’m just going to slip this in here too. Brainstorm accidentally an alternate dystopian timeline, I am sure he can find even more havoc to wreak. He broke the space-time continuum, maybe he can break physics next!

I’ll freely admit that I love to play with conspiracy theories, and I sure know how to stretch a point, but this really took less stretching than I thought it would to make it fit. Plus I am very suspicious of how similarly Kaput and Pharma make their entrances into the story. Oh hey actually, you know what, the Delphi arc was also when Tailgate and Cyclonus had their first big clash, and it ended with Cyclonus hitting him, kicking him, and leaving. And this time, Cyclonus was the one on the defensive, and Tailgate made him leave :’) Just noticed that. But also look at this panel from after time traveling Tailgate leaves a time traveling voicemail.

Every one of those bad things they tried to warn about had a net positive outcome. Season one and season two of MTMTE also started off with a giant pileup of everything happens so much, but there are always things that are terrible in the moment, but play critical positive roles in the future. The winning conditions in the future wouldn’t be possible without the disasters of the past, and the big climaxes in this story are always wonderfully crafted. So I spent a lot of the early comic being disoriented and confused, but history does suggest that this story foundation being laid out now is going to make for a glorious whole.

But back to Kaput! Basically I trust him about as far as I can throw him (and he is a unicycle man who is two stories tall), and I also am extremely skeptical about him being dead. It’s driving me crazy that I can’t tell what on earth he was up to. The way the narrative distorted around him was bizarre, and I want to know what he’s trying to accomplish. Terminus was friendly and affable in company, until he decided to start being a dick in private. There have been plenty of assholes in the Autobot ranks. There’s no reason to believe other people who came out of the pods aren’t also controlling users who know how to keep up a good public face. Especially with the Pharma parallels, I am very unwilling to believe this is Kaput’s real face. I’m dying to know more, because I sure don’t trust what he shows us on the page.

#THE UNICYCLE MAN IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED #kaput #tailgate #lost light #lost light spoilers #mtmte #maccadam #anode #ultra magnus #fangry #robogore #lug #transformers #meta

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pigletsmiddlefinger-blog · 6 years

Text

Day One

Conversations are starting to echo through the same loop. Experiences are turning from a physical and emotional presence into observations. Any form of patience that exists is interrupted by an uncontrollable jolt of anger similar to a grumpy old man possessing my body. Anxiety is mutating and has created a permanent structure - a pump stationed in my chest compressing, pumping, stabbing, and radiating tension through my veins as quickly as possible while tiredness is causing notes, passions - everything that’s truly important - to slow and dull through my fingers. I find myself reaching for words in songs as if I can physically touch them - similar to trying to grab someone’s hand as they dangle off of a cliff in a 3D movie.

I find myself seeking truth in scanning body language and the expressions of others. Art has never looked so beautiful. Each line represents a thought or emotion someone else had and lived through. Songs have never been so alive. I’m able to be fully immersed in the exact emotion that was created for each song. They cradle me and then carry me back in time like the ghost from Christmas past giving me a second chance to walk through each unique moment only this time with a heart of love and wonder. A reminder of how special life can be even when you may have previously thought a specific event to be insignificant. A catalog of experiences recorded on tape over time. Each tape assigned to an emotion that I can draw from my collection and press play at any time. Pure Imagination, Good for You, Mad World, Mia and Sebastian’s Theme, The District Sleeps Alone Tonight, Mouth of War, Love is a Losing Game, All I Want is You, Violin Concerto: II, I’d Rather go Blind, Cochise, I am the Highway, One by One, Ex-Factor.

Wait..wait wait wait. Shit…Shiiiiiiit. Dissasocistion, irritability, mood swings, internalization, vacations to 1998 la la land via the Third Eye Blind express. It happened again. I’ve been stuck in this cycle for a week comparable to a slow motion car crash from the movies. Another doubt caused my body and brain to prepare for failure by shutting down in order to have the strength to process and survive the predicable yet unavoidable situation on the horizon. Unfortunately the impact has already passed and the car has stopped moving. I can tell because I’m able to focus on the broken and smoked glass laying on the asphalt as it cuts into my face. I can tell because I wake up feeling nauseated and hungover without the fun that usually goes with it and I have no memory of the actual impact. Surely I should’ve been able to record the event that I survived that caused so much destruction but maybe there wasn’t an event to begin with, maybe there wasn’t a start, end, beginning, purpose…just pure failure. I’m without a doubt alone again. Heart ripped out. Stomach gutted. Chest crushed. Yada yada.

Day One. Day One. Day fucking One.

I’ve been here many times before (hence my preference in music as previously outlined) and each effort to process my experiences and move forward has become less and less productive considering the end results are all the same.

First comes butterflies, chase, connection, the idea that this time it’s real, followed by actions and words that reinforce that it is real. From today’s top ten hits such as “You’re the best”, “My Dreamgirl”, “My dear”, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met”, “I want us to be honest with one another” to the classics such as “I’ll always love you”, “I was put on this earth for you I swear”, “I’m going to trick her into marrying me”, “I haven’t had a girlfriend in forever but I think you might be the one”, “If anything ever happens to us I wouldn’t know what to do I’d probably have to move to another state in sadness”, “You’re meeting my mom”, sprinkled with home cooked meals, introduction to friends, romance, and talk of future plans. You can throw the he’s just not that into you rulebook out the window for today’s love bombing men. That book practically handed men a manual on what not to do if they wanted a woman to fall for them…and shit they serioisly had to make a movie about it that plays every Valentine’s Day just in case they need a refresher course each year…Reassurance…the ingredient that removes all doubts allowing a woman to be truly vulnerable, feminine, sparkle, and selfless. A fragile state of being that should be cherished. But this fragile state seems to only ever exist for a moment because it takes so much for a woman to feel reassured…so rather than go through the effort to keep this vulnerable mystical creature alive- once it’s been played with, it’s taken for granted and typically returned within the 30 day dating window return policy with a shock to the system…30 days, long enough to enjoy but brief enough to question any adult’s sanity who is emotionally impacted by the short duration of the experience and connection to the rented object… it’s almost as if we’re expected these days to provide a receipt with each kiss and expected to immediately hire a construction crew to constantly build emergency exists in the background during the entire period of the relationship…we’re expected to indulge but not have feelings…we’re expected to be prepared to apologize if we do in fact develop real feelings…we’re expected to expect and accept the end of a relationship…we live in a world where people completely avoid love, pain, rejection or any idea of it. They only want love and pain when they’re told that they can’t have it - when they feel rejected. Fucking golden egg children. We live in a world consumed by self preservation, entitlement, and a targeted will to survive… but there are how many billions of us? How many infinite number of potential connections? We are surrounded by people and different cultures, we have the freedom of speech in this country and all of the tools it requires to take risks, build ourselves, destroy ourselves, be exceptional, and have the luxury to fucking feel and express ourselves- yet we take it all for granted and throw our lives away.

That’s when the reminder sinks in…that no matter who you are, what you feel, what you do, what you give, it’s never enough and people suck, hide in fear, dishonesty, and selfishness. Most people don’t give a fuck about you period. You’re a wallet, a new toy, a pretty face, an accessory, a fun time, a house keeper, a cook, a nurse, a series of short stories - companionship - nothing really special nothing new; therefore, as soon as you show humanity and expect sacrifice, commitment, and or compromise as reassurance that your vulnerability isn’t in vein, you’re redefined as dead weight, a speed bump, an old toy, a clingy desperate creature, a crazy fool, an insecure puppet, an idiot, an annoying talkative child, or best yet a mere distraction. Never worth an invitation to be truly inspected, understood, or cherished. Never worth the courage it takes to let go and let someone in. Never worth an invitation to be on the same team unless you know how to play the game. The basics of the game are be impermeable to vulnerability from the start in order to have power in the relationship and never be the one who adores the other person more. My first boyfriend’s Jewish mom told me this once “In marriage, there’s always someone who loves the other person more”. I remember thinking to myself…wtf? What about everybody fucking communicating and giving it their all and seeing all of the love in each other? Not taking it for granted or using it as a platform for power and manipulation? Why can’t we chose to be with people we love unconditionally - people who can rip us apart and destroy us beyond recognition if they die? Why are relationships calculated? Every minute on this earth is more precious than the last. We are anomalies that have walked out of the stars by some miracle of events that took billions of years and more luck than winning a billion powerballs in a row.

I refuse to play the game. Never played it and never will. I either have romantic feelings or I don’t. If I don’t have romantic feelings I’m clear about it and offer plutonic friendship. Growing up looking like a boy - I’m seasoned in the art of plutonic relationships. Romance is tricky and I learned the hard way (AKA seven years of my life) you either have chemistry or you don’t. And if I do have romantic feelings for someone - feelings that appear to be reciprocated, I dive in head first into the coral hoping I come out alive. So here I am…alone again…no games…no playbook…with a few pieces of coral stuck in my head.

This is why my team gave up a long time ago and demanded so much more from me. So much more than the courage to be vulnerable and feminine. So much more than the desire to be in a partnership. They demand self sufficiency, logic, knowledge, confidence, physical strength, and all the building materials to withstand a category five hurricane. My true friends, my family, my team- they’re the real superheros in this world.

Day one after day one after day one - whether it’s starting something new by choice or being set back by others - the wheel keeps bringing me back to the beginning and never seems to end. Maybe it’s finally starting to drive me mad. Maybe it’s changing my physical makeup and turning me into rubber allowing me to be resilient like I was as a child. Maybe I’m starting to enjoy it knowing with each fresh start I have a new chapter in my life book under “how to deal with the asshole human race for dummies”. Maybe I’m starting to enjoy it knowing that there’s so much possibility with a new beginning…an infinite number souls and minds, songs, blades of grass to lay on while gazing out into each direction of infinity.

As a child I survived on this concept. I survived on the idea of infinity. I survived on the stars, the blades of grass, the asphalt that makes you feel connected to worlds away. I survived on the weightlessness of water while being submerged in pools. The strength and resistance of air you feel while being propelled through it or while sticking your hands and face outside of the window of a moving car. The untamed power of watching and feeling fireworks as they exploded, shook your bones, and damaged your ear drums. But nothing felt more infinite than human touch from someone you loved. Love can turn skin into electricity magically raising each hair from your toes to your back to your arms, to your neck. Love can make a single arm feel as heavy, protective, and as encompassing as a tank shielding you from all harm. A single touch can close your eyes without touching your face.

So here’s my attempt at deconstruction in the hopes that a literal description of the output of my configuration will somehow make me feel less alone in this world and help guide me through this journey called love.

Chapter One. Day One.

Real physical pain. The type of pain that makes you believe that life as you know it will never be the same. The type of pain that is so excruciating that it turns seconds into days making breathing unbearable. The type of pain that carves a pit in your stomach turning everything familiar to you - all your loved ones, all the places you’ve visited, your experiences, the maze of memories you created, even your own hands and your own body - turning all of these things into strangers. The type of pain that only completely satisfied people can accept…but for the rest of us it’s just a reminder for how alone, insecure, primative, and how desperate we are to survive.

This is my day one. My very first memory. My very first experience. My very first emotion.

A beautiful piece of art I couldn’t comprehend. A climb. A grab. A leap that felt like my stomach wouldn’t make it with my body to the ground. Then fear knowing something was wrong and coming down to harm us. Then strength wanting to hold and protect this beautiful piece of art I placed more value on than my life. Holding it tightly with both hands while I curled my body around it to protect it. I could feel each inch of that dresser as it got closer to me and to this day I swear I can sense things coming towards my spine before they physically connect. The crash we all fear - the moment the object makes contact - the scenes in the movies that cost millions of dollars to rectify - the scenes that are filmed at a million angles - I have no memory of this grand theatrical spectacle. No matter how hard I try to remember the sensation, no matter how hard I try to capture the unbelievable experience of living through an impact significant enough to slice a piece of your spine off- it all just goes black. But I remember being stuck, crushed, losing all patience while seconds turned into days and I just wanted the hell out of that uncomfortable crushing situation. I then remember laying in bed for what seemed like a lifetime. Unable to breathe. Unable to move. Pain constant with no escape.

A crash course in wonder, butterflies, excitement, fear, strength/protectiveness, and hyper sensitivity all taught within a couple of minutes to a blank soul followed by seemingly endless physical pain, breathlessness, and emotional frustration. The one lesson I didn’t learn from this experience was to stop climbing shit, stop being crazy, and stop monkeying around every free second...which is why my parents threw me into every activity and eventually decided professional training in how to climb and flip your body was the only option. What really got me through the entire experience was frustration. I don’t think that we give frustration enough credit. Frustration forces us to be so much more than we are - fearless, practical, grown up - giving us no choice but to put aside all other emotions as well as the depth and complexity of a situation in order to simplify it, comprehend it, focus on it and arrive to a solution before you pull all of your hair out.

Frustration demands us to move on and it doesn’t let go until we do. Maybe frustration will finally force me to to move on, shrink my heart, and give up on love. Maybe then I’ll play the game and at least get a prize at the end of the journey like the ones everyone else has taken from me…but until that time comes I guess I’ll keep finding myself laying here on the asphalt in shock, spine crushed, chest crushed, stomach carved, unable to breathe, blood fueled by anxiety…desperate and confused starring into infinity trying to find answers within these infinitely long seconds while holding onto your return receipt.

Day One

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