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dp-marvel94 · 3 years

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Face to Face- Chapter 30

Summary: When Danny went through the ghost catcher, he expected to be cured of the ghostliness that had haunted him since the accident, not to wake up on the lab floor with his parents saying he’d been overshadowed but everything’s back to normal now. But why does Danny Fenton cry himself to sleep to then dream of flying? Why does Phantom, the ghost who was supposedly possessing Danny remember a life that wasn’t his? Most of all, why do both the human and the ghost feel that something vital is missing, in their very soul? Or: Trying to cure himself of his powers one month after the accident, Danny accidentally splits himself but neither his ghost nor his human half know that that is what they did

First ->Last -> Next

Word Count: 7,787

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Note: Hey readers! So here we are, a big milestone, chapter 30. Hopefully you'll enjoy it. And as always, feel free to leave your thoughts, comments, and predictions! And thanks for reading!

As Phantom predicted, family time was not fun, even if Jazz had insisted that he and Fenton choose the movies. After a boring and yet somehow tense lunch, the family had sat around the tv, watching the Dannys’ selection. They’d gone with the Star Trek original series films from the 80s, of course starting with the second one because the first one is garbage.

It normally would have been enjoyable, following along with the successes and failures of the characters, making quips, and laughing at the jokes. But no one seemed that engaged. Dad’s comments were unnaturally subdued; he barely even teared up at the end of Wrath of Khan and hardly chuckled at any of the jokes and gags. Jazz seemed to be watching her parents and brother more than the actual tv. And Mom? Mom had a far away look in her eyes, her brow furrowed like she was deep in thought. She looked like she was doing math in her head, meticulously going over everything that went wrong with the ghost catcher and every possible solution.

As for Fenton and Phantom? In all honesty, both barely saw the screen. Phantom struggled to process what he was watching, his mind too busy with thoughts of his conversation with Jazz and with his other self. They’d said they’d think about talking to Mom and he’d asked Fenton to give him today at least to get his courage up to talk to the woman. But still, his guts squirmed at the thought. He tried not to think about it, about all the possible bad ways that talk could end but….he shivered.

Beside him, Fenton’s neutral expression fell on the sad side. He obviously was feeling the same. He leaned towards the ghost, sitting with his legs curled to the side and his head on the ghost’s shoulder. He offered a mental nudge of sympathy. It, with the physical contact, felt nice. Comforting. Like a soothing balm to his core. Or really….it felt like rubbing a sore muscle or a swollen ankle. Or like how he’d sometimes rub his arm and take deep, calming breaths when he was anxious. That always seemed to make him feel better at least temporarily.

And that was the case now. The touch and mental nudge drew Phantom’s attention back to the tv for a time….until his thoughts drifted again.

The pattern continued as the family watched the movies. They paused after their second movie to heat up some frozen pizzas before returning to watch the third. Phantom and Fenton’s worries kept recirculating. Neither could find it in them to smile, much less laugh. Even at Chekov asking where the nuclear ‘wessels’ were in The Journey Home, the movie they’d affectionately call ‘The One with the Whales.’

Soon enough, their third movie ended and Mom and Dad elected to call it an early night instead of watching another movie. The woman left the living room after saying a listless good night. Dad soon followed her after his more enthusiastic attempt. As for Jazz, the girl pinned both versions of her brother with questioning glances.

Then she sighed. “Good night Danny.”

She lingered for a moment; clearly she wanted to press about talking to Mom but she didn’t. In some ways, the worried and disappointed gaze was worse than being nagged. Phantom looked down, unable to meet her eyes while Fenton glanced to the side, purposely away from her. With another sigh, Jazz started up the stairs.

“Come on.” Fenton muttered after a second, tapping the ghost to get his attention.

Phantom looked up, nodding in acknowledgement. Then the pair went to their room to relax before bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, after Fenton had gone to sleep, Phantom found himself again in the dark living room. He sat on the couch with his knees on his chest. The tv was on, the volume inhumanly low. He could still hear it anyway; true to his suspicion, his hearing was in fact supernaturally keen.

But he wasn’t actually listening to the program. Instead Phantom was thinking about everything. In an act that might have surprised him just days ago, Fenton hadn’t pressed about talking to Mom, though Phantom knew he’d want to. Or rather...the human knew they should talk to the woman, even if both halves of them were scared and wanted to avoid confrontation. Phantom knew they needed to deal with the issue as well but….

The ghost put his head on his knees. “I’m such a coward.” He muttered.

It was ridiculous; he was scared to talk to his own mother. And this wasn’t like before, when they actually told Mom and Dad about what the ghost catcher really did. This time there was no danger of getting shot, or locked in a cage, or experimented on or….

“Stop that.” Phantom chastised himself, feeling old fears rise. He needed to stop; they were past all that. “It’s gonna be fine. It’s fine. She...she loves me, all of me.” He still wasn’t sure how much he believed his own platitudes.

The ghost stayed like that for a while, mentally groaning in annoyance at himself, at his mom, at his situation in general. Again, he was getting so sick of this, of waiting, of feeling helpless, of being afraid.

The sound of footsteps drew his attention and Phantom tensed. His head whipped up, startled gaze falling on the source of the noise.

“Danno?” A large figure asked

After a moment, the ghost relaxed. “Oh, Dad. It’s you.”

The man took a step forward. “Yep. What are you doing up, kiddo? I figured you’d be in bed.”

“I am.” The ghost sighed. Confusion momentarily crossed the man’s face before Phantom explained. “The other me. He actually is in bed, asleep.”

Dad nodded. Then he raised a brow. “But what about this you?” He ran a hand through his hair. “You haven’t been trying to sleep on the couch, have you? You know you can use the guest room or...we can get you a cot for your room.” He shook his head, muttering. “We haven’t even thought about sleeping arrangements.”

“No need to.” Phantom sighed. “It turns out ghosts can’t sleep.”

The man paused, his gaze fixing on his son. “Really? As in you physically can’t or…?”

The ghost bit his lip. “Like physically can’t. I tried the first few nights after the ghost catcher but….nothing. Can’t fall asleep.”

Dad frowned. “Oh son… that sounds rough.”

“It’s fine.” Phantom shrugged, trying to look casual. “It’s not like I get tired.” He then raised a brow. “What are you doing up?”

The man glanced in the kitchen. “Midnight snack.”

“Oh…Don’t let me keep you then.” The ghost looked away, core clinching. Another thing he couldn’t enjoy.

Dad paused, stepping towards the couch instead of towards the kitchen.

Phantom wrinkled his brow. “What are you doing?”

“Sitting with you, if that’s alright.” The ghost nodded in agreement and the man sat down. The man sighed. “What’s the matter, Danny?”

Phantom blinked. “What?”

“You’ve got that look on your face, like something’s bothering you.” Dad said kindly. “What’s eating at ya?”

The ghost looked away again, his shoulders rising. “Uh just….stuff.”

“Is it the ghost catcher?” The man asked. “You don’t need to worry. I promise I’ll get it fixed up.”

Phantom shook his head. “No that’s...Well...I am… I am upset about that. But...that’s not...that’s not really...” He trailed off, unsure what to say or really...if he should say anything at all.

“Danny?” Dad questioned, nudging the boy to continue.

The ghost swallowed, biting his lip. Everyone damn one seemed to want him to talk about this, Jazz, his other self, now even Dad. But how could he? Maybe….He took a deep breath, pinching his eyes shut. “I’m...I’m angry at Mom.”

There was a pause. “Why?” The man asked, sounding genuinely confused.

Phantom opened his eyes. “It’s the stuff...the stuff she’s said about ghosts.”

“Oh.” Dad’s mouth rounded into an O, realization dawning.

The ghost nodded. “Yeah. She said...well you know. You were there.” Dad blushed, something like guilt flickering in his gaze before Phantom continued. “Jazz said I should talk to Mom about it.”

That got the man’s attention as he turned more fully to the ghost. “Your sister’s right. You should.”

Phantom huffed. “I figured you’d say that.”

Dad tilted his head. “You don’t sound happy about that. I’m guessing you don’t want to.”

The ghost shook his head.

“Why?”

Phantom paled. His insides churned as nervousness rose. His throat closed up, the words choking him. He couldn’t say it. He didn’t want to say it but…. Something tickled in the back of his mind. A sleepy hum of encouragement. He could...he could do this. Yeah. He could. He took a breath. “I’m scared.”

Dad asked softly. “Why are you scared?”

Phantom shifted anxiously. He couldn’t look up. He couldn’t meet his father’s eyes. How could he say it? How could he explain to his dad that he was afraid that Mom was not sorry about what she said? How could...how could he tell one parent that he was scared his other parent didn’t love him? That barely even a week ago he’d been terrified, he’s been sure that his parents would hate him, that they could never love a monster, a ghost like him.

“She won’t...she won’t listen to me.” Phantom managed to squeak out.

“Of course she will.” Dad tried to reassure.

The ghost boy shook his head. “No, She won’t...she won’t even look at me, much less actually listen.”

“Danny boy. That’s not true.” Dad reached forward, placing a hand on the ghost’s shoulder “Whatever it is, if it’s important to you, she’ll listen. Your mom loves you.”

The ghost boy flinched, pulling away at the stinging statement. He wanted to believe that was true, so badly but he feared-

“Are you upset with me, son?” Dad suddenly asked

Phantom’s glaze flickered up, his eyes falling on the adult’s deep frown, the hurt look on his face. “No. Why would you think that?”

“I had a part in all this too. We haven’t really been making this easier for you. Fighting with your mom hasn’t helped and…” The man bit his lip. “I haven’t forgotten that stuff I said before I knew…” He motioned up and down Phantom’s body.

The ghost looked down at himself. Oh yeah. He flinched, the memories of the names he was called flashed in his mind. A gun pointed at his head. ‘You think this is funny, messing with my boy?’

Phantom swallowed. “You didn’t know back then and...you’ve been trying so hard. I know you don’t think that stuff anymore.”

Dad remained still, his cheeks reddened with shame as he considered the statement. “You’re right, I don’t.” He took a breath. “And I’m sure your mom doesn’t either. She’s been trying too.”

The ghost narrowed his eyes slightly, trying not to scoff. “Really?”

The man straightened. “I guess you’re not seeing that.” His brow wrinkled with sadness. “I need to get her to talk to you.”

Phantom’s eyes popped open. “No, don’t.” He waved his hands in alarm. This… this was not what he wanted, for Mom to learn that he had a problem with her from his Dad.

Dad’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Son, you two clearly need to talk.”

The ghost put a hand on his head. “I know that but-”

The adult cut him off. “Danny, listen.” It was said compassionately with just enough authority for ghost Danny’s mouth to snap shut. “Things have gotten better between us, because you’ve talked to me. Like you are right now. You told me what was bothering you…. and you can tell me anything else you need to.” The man raised a brow, giving the boy a probing look.

“Yeah, I can. Yeah.” Phantom swallowed. Well, that opened a can of worms. “I can but-”

“But...you should give your mom the same courtesy. She can’t read your mind, son. She doesn’t know what you’re thinking. So tell her, so she can start fixing things.”

The ghost’s shoulders rose as he looped his arms around his knees. His gaze fixed down, avoiding his father. The words rang in his head anyway, running into similar pleas that Jazz had given him earlier. He...he knew what he had to do. He’d known for hours but now...he had no recourse, no excuse. He was still scared, so damn scared. But….he took a breath, stealing his courage as he looked up. “Okay. I’ll...I’ll talk to her, in the morning.”

“You will?” Dad questioned.

“Yes.” The ghost nodded. “But….don’t tell Mom about what I told you.”

The man gave him a serious look. “Danny.”

“Please.” The boy looked at him pleadingly. “I want to….no...I need to tell her myself….and I will but….” He swallowed. “This is between me and her.” Jazz’s words repeated in his head. “Me and Mom are the only ones who can fix this.”

Dad frowned, a serious contemplative look on his face. Finally he sighed. “Alright. I won’t say anything but…” He pointed. “If she asks me or you don’t go through with it, I will talk to her. Your mother and I don’t keep secrets from each other.”

“Okay.” Phantom conceded, his shoulders falling.

The man’s face softened. “Don’t be sad, kiddo.” He gave the ghost boy a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

The ghost boy tried to return the gesture with a smile. “I hope so.”

“It will. You’ll see.” Dad yawned. “But now, I need to go back to bed.” He stood up and started turning back towards the master bedroom.

“What about your snack?” Phantom asked.

The man turned around. “Oh right.” A smile grew on his face, his eyes brightening at the thought of food. Then his gaze flickered back to the ghost, who was still frowning with his knees to his chest. Dad’s face fell.

“What?” The ghost raised a brow.

"You know, normally I'd give you a glass of warm milk and some fudge and get ya to bed."

Phantom frowned. "Well there's no point in doing that, 'cause-"

"I know. But…" The man interrupted. He leaned down. "Normally, I'd give you a big ole hug too. I can still do that. If you want."

The boy's expression softened. "Of course I want that."

Lowering his legs, he turned to the side and reached forward as his father wrapped strong arms around him. The ghost melted into the hug, enjoying the warmth. It felt nice to be so comforted, even as his core still churned with sadness and worry.

"Everything's going to be alright, son."

Phantom said nothing, just holding on tighter. Like he was still a little kid and his dad could shield him from the world. But eventually, the man pulled away before grabbing a quick snack and going back to bed. The ghost stayed on the couch, alone with just his thoughts and the distant song of the portal.

Phantom had a lot to think about, much to consider. He had a decision to make. Or did he? He’d said he would talk to Mom in the morning and he would keep his word even if the thought made his hands shake and his insides squirm. He and Fenton would talk to her together. Or…

His core clinched, mind going over a dozen hypothetical scenarios. What he, Phantom, would say. What Fenton would say. How Mom would react. And every extreme of that reaction- from cold and cruel rejection to insincere, placating apology to weeping, sobbing regret. He turned the matter around in his head. Mom’s reaction to Fenton compared to his ghost half… those were different. And her reaction would be different, depending on which Danny said what. But the root was...Mom seemed to have a problem with, to not trust Phantom. And so…

The ghost bit his lip. He needed to talk to his human self. But even so...Phantom had a sinking feeling. He might just have to proceed alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That morning, Fenton woke up minutes before his alarm to the feeling of cold hands gently shaking him.

“Phantom?” He blinked through blurry eyes.

“Sorry to wake you up so early.” The ghost bit his lip. “But I need to talk to you before school.”

The human blinked again, suddenly feeling more awake. “Okay. Yeah.” He sat up. “Just let me pee first.”

“Of course.” The ghost floated back to give his counterpart space to stand.

Fenton left, did his business, and then returned to his room. He sat back down on the bed, giving the ghost his attention.

“So last night...I told Dad I’d talk to Mom.” Phantom started.

“You did?” The human raised a brow, surprised. Then he paused. “Wait… yeah. I saw some of that.” He remembered sitting on the couch with his knees to his chest and Dad beside him, the words far away and indistinct but the worry almost palpable.

“Yeah.” Phantom nodded. “You kinda pushed me to actually talk to Dad.”

“I do remember that.” Fenton agreed. Slowly, the words from that late night conversation shifted into focus. “You told him that we’re angry at Mom and scared she won’t listen.”

“I did.” The ghost agreed. “And I promised I’d talk to Mom in the morning.”

“And it’s morning.” The human sighed, rubbing his face. Then he looked up. “But...I have school. Could we wait until after? I’m sure Dad would understand and…” He trailed off, talking in his counterpart’s serious expression. There was something in his eyes, in the twitch of his frown that said it. Or more likely...one half of his mind knew the other half. “You think it should just be you. Only you should talk to her.”

The ghost wrung his hands. “Yeah well….I’m the half she seems to have a problem with and...she’ll act differently if you’re there. She might be...nicer if her nice normal human son is physically there.” He frowned, bitterness ringing out in the words. “But we need her to be honest. We...I need to know what she really thinks of me, just me, just Phantom.”

“And if she is actually sorry, if she’ll really apologize to a ghost.” Fenton continued for him.

“Yeah.” Phantom agreed. “It’s just...I know we’re a team.” He held his hands in front of his placatingly. “And this isn’t me pushing you away but….”

“Danny.” The human said softly, cutting him off. “I get it. This isn’t a rift between us but…” He sighed. “I have the feeling if we were merged...the whole Danny would have this conversation in ghost form. ‘Cause you are right. Mom treats Fenton and Phantom differently.”

“Yeah.” The ghost shifted nervously. “It really sucks, but she does. So...you do see why it should just be me?”

Fenton nodded in confirmation. He understood Phantom’s thinking all too well. And unfortunately, he agreed for the most part. Although...he blew out a breath. “Still….I hate the idea of not being there with you in person.”

“But you’ll just be a mental nudge away.” Phantom reminded him. “So it’s not like you’re actually leaving me alone.”

That was true, the human silently mused. It’s not like he and his ghost half could actually be rid of each other. They were one mind, one soul even if stuck as two bodies. And so, even if physically apart... Fenton half-smiled. “I guess you could say I’ll be there in spirit.”

Phantom’s brow wrinkled for a moment as he frowned at his counterpart who pinned him with a knowing look. The ghost looked down at himself and then back to the human. The corner of his smile twitched up. “Was that a pun?” Fenton’s eyes brightened and he opened his mouth to reply. But the ghost shook his head, continuing before he could. “Of course it was. And yes, I guess I could say that.” Slowly, his lips turned up in a fond smile. “That actually does make me feel a lot better although….” His expression turned thoughtful. “Should I wait until you’re at lunch to talk to Mom? In case, it gets emotional or...I don’t know...I need more of your attention.”

The human frowned, considering the question. “Yeah, that… that might be a good idea.” He didn’t like the possibility of spacing out or having an outburst in class. “I’ll tell Sam and Tucker what’s up, in case I get weird and….we’ve got a free period right after lunch on Mondays so if things go long…”

“We’ll be set.” Phantom finished for him.

Fenton nodded and then stood. He stepped forward, taking the ghost’s hand. “It's gonna go fine. You’ve got this.”

“We’ve got this.” Phantom corrected, looking down.

“You’re the one doing the heavy lifting.” The human squeezed his hand, clinched in Phantom’s. “And like I said before, you’re so brave.”

The ghost blushed. “Fenton.”

“Phantom.” The other boy returned teasingly. “But seriously, I’m proud of you. I’m proud of us.”

“Yeah?” Phantom raised a brow.

“Yeah.” Fenton nodded.

The ghost smiled. “Alright.” He squeezed Fenton’s hand before pulling away. “Now you can stop being so sappy.”

The human raised a brow. “Come on. You have just as much a capacity to be sappy as I do.”

“Oh I never said I didn’t.” This other half teased. “But that's enough for now. I’ve gotta psych myself up to be disgustingly honest and emotional in front of Mom.”

“You’ve got this Danny. You got this. It’s gonna to be great. You’re gonna crush that conversation, knock it right out of the water.” Fenton suddenly started, earnestly with just a hint of teasing. This earned a confused and slightly skeptical look from the ghost. The human stopped. “What? You said you had to psych yourself up.”

Understanding flashed across the ghost’s face. He snorted and then rolled his eyes. “Still a dork.”

“Oh, that’s not even a question. A lot of things can change,” There was a knowing weight, a gravity to the statement. But then the human waved casually. “But that’s not one of them.”

“Yeah. It’s not.” The ghost agreed.

With that, Phantom released his counterpart and the human started getting ready for school. They didn’t talk anymore about the upcoming conversation with Mom but the topic wasn’t far from Fenton’s mind, even as he chatted with Jazz and Phantom over breakfast and the girl drove him to school. Jazz of course asked him about it and he replied with reassurances that Phantom would talk to Mom today. And yes, the human Danny trusted his ghost half to talk to the woman alone, or as alone as one half of a human-ghost hybrid with lingering metaphysical connections between their two halves could be.

And that was the thing. Fenton would have to trust himself, trust Phantom. And what’s more...he had to keep hoping that Mom would be receptive. He’d keep hoping that this would be the first step in mending their strained relationship….and not the nail in his coffin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True to what he said, Phantom spent the whole morning psyching himself up for the impending conversation with Mom. He paced around his bedroom, muttering to himself. “I’ve got this. It’s gonna be fine, right? Right, yeah. Of course. We’re fine. It’s fine.” He sucked in a breath. “You can do this, Fenton. You can do this.” For once, he wasn’t talking to his human half nor was there any guilt in the habitual action. He had always had a habit of calling himself by his last name if he needed to berate himself or give himself a pep talk. “We can..I can do this. I can do this. I’m gonna do this. I’m-”

Something tickled in the back of his mind, a small nudge from his other self conveying that it was time. Phantom’s stomach dropped as he glanced at the clock. Was it lunch time already? He paled. “No. I’m...I’m not ready.”

A mental pock of encouragement came. Yes, you are. Fenton said, even without words.

“Yeah I’m… ” The ghost took another breath. “We decided. I’m doing this. I guess...I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Distantly, he felt Fenton agree. With no more hesitation, the ghost floated out of the room. His stance tensed as he proceeded down the hallway and steps. In moments, he crossed the living room and stopped in front of the door to the lab. He shook his hands, trying to dislodge the nerves. “Alright, Phantom. You’ve got this.”

At once a sense of deja vu hit him. A little over a week ago, floating behind his other self and watching him say those words and more distantly….being the one standing in front of the door and preparing for a potentially disastrous showdown. The ghost shook his head. This was nothing compared to that.

Deliberately, Phantom straightened. He grabbed the door knob. Luckily it turned and he pulled the door open. The ghost swallowed. “Mom? Dad?”

“Down here.” Mom called from her seat at one of the tables.

Phantom floated forward, eyes surveying the entire lab. Mom’s table with the blueprints and other paper strone around her. The station where they’d been working on the ghost catcher, visibly cleaned since yesterday. A benchtop with Mom’s microscope, flasks and test tubes of ectoplasm, a centrifuge and table top incubators. A pile of wires and other scrap in the corner and...his core clenched….a box containing the broken and burnt remains of the ghost catcher.

The ghost boy ripped his eyes away, gaze turning to the open portal with its mesmerizing green light and the soft hum of its song. For just a moment, the sound captured his attention, the melody quickening the pulsing of his core even as it relaxed him.

“What is it?” Mom asked, though she sounded mildly distracted.

Phantom shook his head, startled by the sudden interruption. He floated forward, trying to not look embarrassed or nervous but...the anxiety was back. His eyes flitted around the room again. “Where’s Dad?” He questioned.

Mom didn’t look up from the paper she was writing on. “We needed specialty parts after...what happened yesterday. Your father went to pick them up from our supplier in Elmerton. He should be back in an hour or so.”

“Okay.” The ghost boy nodded, taking in the statement. Well, that definitely meant he’d get to talk to Mom alone.

Even so, he silently shifted in the air, biting his lip. His gaze flickered from the portal to his mother and back several times. How to start? Where to even start? Should he sit down in the chair beside her? Or that stool, a little farther away? Or maybe ask to go upstairs for this conversation? Or-

“Danny, do you need something?” The woman asked, again interrupting his thoughts.

Phantom turned to look at Mom as she finally looked at him. His frown deepened taking her in. The woman had her hood pulled up, her goggles over her eyes. The red lenses made her look bug-eyed and intimidating. Subconsciously, the ghost floated back. The impulse to turn around and avoid this conversation passed through but he pushed it down. “Ummm...it’s….I…” He swallowed. “I need to..to talk to you.”

The woman frowned, glancing down at her papers. “Can it wait, sweetie? I’m in the middle of something.”

The ghost bit his lip, fighting the urge to say yes, it could wait, and leave. Instead he touched down on the floor. “No...it...it can’t.”

Mom sighed, putting down her pen. She pushed her goggles up onto her forehead. “Alright. What do you need to talk to me about?”

“Uhh….just stuff...things….I’ve been thinking about stuff and wondering...and I talked to Fenton...and Jazz. And we...well….we’re...I’m...uhh...I don’t...It’s not…”

“Danny.” The woman cut him off. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”

Phantom shifted nervously, foot to foot. Tentatively, he eyed the chair on the other side of the table. After a moment’s hesitation, he sat down. “Okay, just promise you’ll listen and….tell me the truth.”

Mom’s mouth twitched down. “Danny.” She repeated his name, pointedly.

The ghost shook his head. “Please. Promise me you’ll...you’ll be honest with me….and you’ll listen.”

Slowly, the woman’s face softened. “I promise.” She said, like she might just mean it. “Now what is this about sweetie?”

Phantom took a moment, bracing himself. For a fraction of a moment, he considered where to start poking at the issue. Then he decided. The ghost swallowed, looking down. “Why...why don’t you trust me?”

There was breath. “Is this about you being grounded?” Mom said, surprisingly gently. “Because we already talked about this. You broke our trust by sneaking out and-”

“No. It’s not…” Phantom cut her off. “This isn’t about being grounded. It’s…” He looked up. “You trust...you trust Fenton but you don’t trust me.” He emphasized the word. “Why don’t you trust me?”

Mom’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

Annoyance flared but the ghost pushed it down; maybe he was actually explaining this badly. “You trust Fenton, the human me. But you don’t...you don’t trust Phantom. This me.” He motioned up and down his body. “Why do you trust Fenton but not me?”

The woman shook her head. “I trust both of you equally.”

Another flicker of annoyance passed through him. “That’s not true. You treat me and Fenton differently.” He shook his head. “I’d...I’d maybe get it, if you didn’t trust either of us. After the lying and hiding stuff from you and Dad. And after sneaking out. I mean...I can admit, we should have told you guys but…” His eyes widened, pleadingly. “I’m trying to be good! And we’ve told you, we’re sorry for lying to you about the accident and for sneaking out. And I’m sorry for scaring you and Dad with my powers and for running off. We’re...I’m trying so damn hard but…” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, he really did. But it leaked out anyway. “You still treat me and Fenton differently. And you still don’t trust me!”

“That isn’t true.” Mom repeated, shaking her head in denial. “And I don’t treat you and your human half differently.”

“Really? You don’t?” Phantom challenged. “Then why won’t you touch me?”

“What does that-” The woman started, paling slightly.

But the ghost interrupted. “You hesitate, every time. Like I’m going to hurt you or something. But you don’t with Fenton.”

“That’s not-”

“Don’t say that it’s not true, ‘cause it is.” Phantom pointed. “And you won’t look at me either.”

Mom’s eyes widened, her face paling more. But she didn’t argue. After a moment, her gaze flickered down.

“And you’re doing it now!” The ghost gripped his hair. “You keep avoiding me like...like it’s painful to look at me. Like it hurts to even be in the same room.”

“That’s not-” The woman repeated.

“Stop saying it’s not true!” Phantom’s volume rose and he felt his eyes flash brighter. “Half the time, you act like I’m a dangerous wild animal.” He shouted, anger flaring with her constant denials. “Like I’m gonna turn into a monster...or just some mindless ghost.” He spread his arms in exacerbation, just a fraction of the words he’d thought coming out. “And the other half….you act like I’m already dead and gone.”

“You are dead.” Mom hissed heatedly, the words impacting Phantom like a punch to the gut. “You’re dead, Danny.” The woman finally looked up, her teeth gritted as she clearly struggled to control her emotions. “And it’s my fault.” She said the last part so quietly; Phantom’s barely heard the words but ignored them.

“You know, I’m not actually dead.” Phantom balled his fists. “I’m still part human. I’m different but you don’t have to act like you’ve lost me.”

“So what, I’m not allowed to grieve now?” Mom glared.

“No.., you’re not!” The ghost growled. “I know things are different now but you can’t keep acting like there’s something wrong with me! Because there’s not!” He glared, pointing at her. “I heard you, that night after Fenton and I tried to merge, and when you and Dad had that fight. I know what you said.” Again, his anger swelled, the bitter memories replaying in his mind. “And you can’t keep treating me like this!” He bared his teeth in almost a snarl, the shadow of his pulse pounding in his head. “Like I’m unnatural. Like I’m lesser.” His voice rose into an echoing shout, like two voices speaking as one. “Like I’m not supposed to be a ghost!”

“You’re not supposed to be a ghost!” Mom yelled in anger, her own eyes burning. “None of this was supposed to happen! My son wasn’t supposed to die at fourteen in the portal in our god damn basement! It wasn’t supposed to be my invention! It wasn’t supposed to be my fault!” She snarled. “I’m not supposed to be having this conversation with the ghost of my son! You’re supposed to be alive! Normal! At school, worrying about homework and girls and friends! You’re supposed to be human!”

Just like that, the air evaporated out of Phantom’s lungs as the words crashed into him like an icy wave. His anger dissolved and sorrow welled up to take its place. “I was right.” He whispered as tears started collecting in his eyes. “You’re not sorry.”

The woman’s mouth snapped shut, the wrath snuffed out. “What?”

His hands started shaking. “We...we hoped maybe you could still love Phantom.”

Horror dawned on the adult’s face. She reached forward without hesitation. “Danny sweetie.”

In a blink, he jumped out of the chair and flickered backwards. “But...you’ll never really love a ghost.”

Mom stood, her eyes widening in shock, distress, guilt. “No, I do-”

He backed away, panic rising. “We...we can’t be something we’re not. We can’t be completely human for you.”

Their head whipped side to side. Escape. They needed to escape now. They needed to fly. Something green flickered in the corner of their eye. Their head turned and eyes widened. The portal…. The call, the song was so loud, so inviting. The ghost wanted to follow and human instincts for once agreed. There, they could escape.

Their gaze flickered away, again falling on the woman. Time seemed to slow. Mom’s eyes widened, horrified realization dawning. She stepped forward, arms outstretched. But they were faster. In a heartbeat, legs morphed into a ghostly tail and they dived.

“Danny! Stop! I’m sorry. I-”

Neon green light engulfed them, cutting off the sound of the mother’s cries.

#Danny Phantom #Face To Face #Ghost Catcher #split danny #double danny #danny fenton #My fic

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accio-ambition · 7 years

Text

I‘M SORRY THIS IS LATE BUT MY COMPUTER POOPED OUT. But it’s okay, we’re gonna do this now.

This chapter has what the MPAA would call thematic elements and there's also mention of character death(s?). GUYS, SHIT GOES DOWN IN THIS CHAPTER. In the original draft, this and the next chapter were one, but then it was like 10k and I was like THAT'S TOO LONG. So now you get two. You're welcome.

As always, so many thanks to you, @sotheylived, @queen-icicle-fandom, @captainswanbigbang, and @shipsxahoy, who made ANOTHER image for this story. It's gr8, thank you Bianca my dear.

Summary: Bouncing around with her son for the majority of her life, Emma Swan has told herself she’s happy in the city. It’s where the most camera operating jobs are, and that’s how she makes her money. But when an old friend calls her and asks for her help on a new project in small town Maine, Emma finds herself in a place she’s never been with people she doesn’t know filming a profession she knows nothing about. But when the captain of the ship she’s filming begins taking a keen interest in her and her life, she finds herself wondering whether she might just catch something other than fish. Deadliest Catch AU Rating: M Content warning: Character death, some violent situations Chapter warning: Death, violence, thematic elements

FFnet/Ao3/Cover/Snapshots/Gifset

Chapter Fourteen

When she finally gets on the Jolly Roger a few days later, it’s a surprisingly pleasant day. The sun is bright and warm, but not so overbearing that she wants to die from holding 20 pounds of camera equipment for four hours straight or longer. There's a slight breeze that smells like summer and it seems like the perfect day to go sailing.

Killian looks to be the only one on board at the moment, standing in the door at his post on the captain’s roost. His hair moves in gentle waves, which Emma takes to mean that the windows behind him are wide open. His face is set in a scowl, which genuinely surprises her. Who would frown at this type of weather?

She jogs up the gangplank and then across the deck until she stands on the bottom stair leading up to him.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Emma asks, mentally trying to plan out what she needs to film. Jeff told her to get more talking heads, but in order to get better talking heads, something big has to happen. She doesn’t expect to get any of that action today, but it’s the sort of day that she could persuade and trick herself into thinking as a day of leisure instead of another day on the job.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to head out today,” Killian says, shaking his head.

Affronted by the idea, Emma visibly recoils. “Why not? It’s beautiful out.”

Jerking his chin up toward the sky, he responds, “It’s going to storm.”

“What?” Looking up, Emma is stunned to see nothing. Not a cloud, not a bird. Just blue, blue skies for miles in each direction. “Have you gone blind, Jones? There aren’t any clouds or anything and it just rained for three days.”

Killian sighs and stands up. “Exactly.” He says it with such conviction that Emma almost doesn’t question it.

“I’m sorry, are you sure you aren’t crazy?”

“The sky was red this morning,” he explains. When she doesn’t respond, Killian sighs again and crosses his arms. “’Red sky in morning, sailors take warning. Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.’ Ever heard it?” Emma nods. “It’s true. Even if it looks beautiful, the sky was red this morning,” he gestures out to the water before them. “Storms are coming and the Jolly Roger isn’t steady or large enough to handle them.”

Emma sighs and rolls her eyes. “Is the Jewel heading out?” she asks.

Rolling his eyes right back at her, Killian spins on his heels, nearly mows her down as he grabs his phone from inside, and begins to stalk back toward the house. “Despite my better judgement, yes.”

“Then why - ”

“You said you trusted me, Emma” he says frustratedly, whirling back on her. His eyes are alight with something, challenging her to interrupt him. “I’m not taking my men out on the water today.”

His request doesn’t exactly leave a bad taste in her mouth, but it doesn’t make her see reason either. Jones knows that he’s got to go out as certain number of days during the season so she can film it. It’s in his contract, one that she signed as well with different words.

Emma whips out her phone and calls David, glaring at Jones as the line connects. David picks up on the second ring. He barely greets her, so accustom to Emma calling him to talk work.

“Hey, I was thinking that we could switch - ”

“The Roger’s not leaving port today,” she interjects. Even though she knows David can’t see her expression, she makes sure to send a sneer toward the captain of said ship. “Apparently, Jones’ spidey sense is tingling.”

“What does that even mean?” David asks.

Sighing, Emma turns her back to Jones. “He said it’s going to storm real bad.”

“Has he looked at the forecast? The weatherman was saying Maine’s on the verge of a drought.”

Emma shrugs. “I know, trust me, I know,” she mumbles. “Anyways, I’m gonna stay in and film some talking heads with the boys, try and get some footage out of today’s mood swing. Text me anything you want to me to address or record.”

“Alright.”

“Have fun, David.”

“You too, Emma.”

She hits the end call button, an angry red she thinks fully expresses the emotions she’s trying to control right now, and glancing over her shoulder to continue silently glaring at Jones.

“Trust me, Swan,” he says, as if he can read her mind. And maybe it’s not necessarily her mind that she’s reading. A couple times before, when she’s been in this sort of mood, others have told her that her anger and frustration played out on her face.

That knowledge has her sighing, the tension that’s set in her shoulders relaxing a shade as she turns to face him head on. He approaches her, slowly. “I have been doing this for far longer than you have,” he reminds her. “I have made the mistake of going against my gut feeling before, of going out when I know I shouldn’t. Never again.” His hands gently lay on her shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze. “I told Henry I would keep you safe. This is how I’m doing it.”

Now that he’s semi-explaining his decision to her - not that he should have to, but it's nice that he is - Killian makes sense. Sometimes she gets so focused on doing her job that she forgets about the others who might be affected by it. Jones does have the experience and, despite being still somewhat new to the title captain, he practically breathes the sea. He knows her far better than Emma could ever wish to.

And hell, she isn't the only one who has people to come back to, who would be devastated if something went wrong. Whale has to have a handful of conquests to return to, Scarlet as well. She’s got Henry and the Nolans and Robin, he’s got his wife and son and baby on the way.

He’s thinking smart. He’s thinking for himself and not following Liam’s suit, as Emma realizes she was trying to do in getting him out on the Jolly Roger.

On a groan, Emma rolls her eyes, grabs Killian’s wrist, and begins dragging him off his damn boat.

“C’mon,” she grumbles. “If we aren’t going out, I’m going to sit you down and annoy you to death with questions.”

She hears his chuckle, but refuses to acknowledge the apparent joy he finds in her threat. “I did say I missed our sessions, didn’t I?” he quips, catching up to her and pressing a kiss behind her ear. “As long as I’m with you, Swan, it’s a lovely way to die.”

Her jaw drops in annoyance and she rolls her eyes without another thought.

0000

Normally, talking heads are filmed in a studio, but since this whole endeavor is still technically in it’s infant stages, the network executives haven’t afforded them the luxury of an actual local studio.

Luckily enough, the Jones’ house has a guest room, which, for the time being, Jefferson has converted into a studio. There’s a little stool that the crew members can sit on in front of a dark blue backdrop. A tripod is set up across from it, and a window looks out over the backyard and harbor.

(When she first walked in the room, Emma wondered what happened to the bed she’s sure was in it. She was going to asking Killian, but then she could imagine on the tip of the iceberg of innuendos she’d be asking for.)

She’s texted the boys and told them she’s expecting them in an hour and a half for talking heads - planned interviews to go in between scenes and explain the more complicated aspects of trawling. In the meantime, she’s found a little solitude in the makeshift studio.

Henry’s back at home by himself, technically under the watch of Mary Margaret even though they’re in their separate houses. He texted her a couple minutes ago asking if he could go over to Phillip's after lunch. She’d given him the okay so long as he stopped by next door and told Mary Margaret where he was going.

(She doesn’t admit that Jones’ words hung in her mind as she added “And bring a slicker” as an afterthought to the message.)

She relishes in her silence, staring out the window for god knows how long. All she knows is that when she started watching the waves, they were gentle. Now, they’ve worked up into storm swells hitting against the docks and ominous clouds have rolled in the stead of sunshine.

“What d’you know?” she murmurs to herself. “He was right.”

“I know.” Killian’s snuck up on her, his voice coming from right above her shoulder, causing her to jump. “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Her hand resting over her heart in an attempt to calm it, Emma shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she gasps. “It’s totally and completely fine for you to scare me shitless.” Then she smacks his shoulder. “Don’t fucking do it again.”

He chuckles and takes a step back as she goes to hit him again. “Again, my deepest apologies. I won’t knowingly do it again.”

Gesturing toward the stool, Emma’s murmured, “Asshole,” is thankfully overpowered by the crackle of the Coast Guard radio in the corner. It’s happened on occasion, in the middle of interviewing Killian at the wheel on the water or when doing talking heads. The communication comes to life and let’s them know the status of the harbor or the sound. None of them really pay attention to it except to pause the recording and start once the update is finished.

Right now, the radio warns of worsening conditions, waves reaching 10 feet and expected to grow larger.

“Do you believe me now?” His voice breaks her concentration on the camera. Looking up, smugness is written all over his face.

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be mean about it,” she says. “Remember, I’ve only been around boats for a couple months.”

Killian closes his eyes and looks up toward the ceiling, as if he’s saying a silent prayer for patience. “Ship, Swan,” he finally groans. “You’ve been here a year. I thought that’d be enough time to get it through your stubborn head.”

(It has gotten through, for the most part. Nowadays, she does it because of how badly it ruffles his feathers.)

“Alright, whatever,” she sighs, and starts recording. Opening her phone, Emma pulls up the notepad app on her phone and scrolls through the mixture of questions she keeps and the ones she thought up after her conversation with Jones this morning.

“Why didn’t you go out on the waters today?” she asks first.

He furrows his brows. “Come now, Swan, I told you earlier,” he answers.

“You told me,” she says, pointing at herself for emphasis. Then she points at the camera, its lens focused on him. “You didn’t tell the audience.” Killian gives her a baleful look and Emma rolls her eyes. “You know how this works. Humor me.”

After another annoyed look and a sigh, he sits up straight and stares directly into the camera. He launches and delves deeper into the explanation she heard earlier this morning about red skies and old wives’ tales. Even hearing it a second time is fascinating, but she finds herself being a little biased.

(She also finds herself drifting off into dreamland, the cadence of his voice lulling her into a contented haze.)

Once he finishes, Emma asks the next obvious question: “How do you feel about your brother and his crew going out?”

A flash of something like concern flashes behind his blue irises and she knows it wouldn’t be evident on TV, but she knows Killian these days. There’s something about the weather and the current conditions that has him worrying over Liam and the rest of the Jewel.

“I’m not pleased, as you can probably tell,” he says, his voice getting low with disappointment. His hand scrubs across his face. “Liam taught me all that I know about sailing, trawling, all of it. And to see him explicitly go against everything he taught me today.” He looks up at the ceiling again and this time Emma can’t tell if it’s a prayer or an attempt to censor his feelings toward his brother. “He’s his own man, he can do what he wants.”

She falls out of interviewer mode, looking up from her phone and taking a step out from behind the camera and tripod. His head comes back to straight and Emma looks at him in a different light. “That doesn’t sound like the Jones brothers I know,” she says quietly.

Killian sighs and looks to her, not the camera. “There’s a lot about the Jones brothers you don’t know,” he says just as softly. “Liam always told me growing up a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.” A self-deprecating chuckle falls from his lips. “He still tells me that, at least once a week.” Killian shrugs and throws his hand toward the window. “If this is what he wants, then he’s fighting for it. Whatever happens to him happens.”

“Don’t say that,” she murmurs, stepping further away from the camera setup.

“Why not?”

She comes to stand beside him, staring down at his still-seated position. “I know you’re angry with him right now, but don’t say that Liam deserves whatever happens to him out there.” Contemplating her next words, Emma finally settles on almost telling him a little bit about her past. “Look, I never had any siblings, but I know that if I had, I would’ve protected and loved them with everything I had.”

“It’s not that I don’t love my brother,” he corrects her. His hand runs through his hair. “It’s just he’s such an insufferable, stubborn arse sometimes and it more often than not ends up bad for him or me or one of the crew.”

“But you’ve all survived so far, haven’t you?” she counters.

That makes Killian laugh, his head thrown back and the sound a bit jarring compared to the previous quiet of the interview. “Yeah, we’re all survivors. Somehow, some way,” he admits. Still, he shakes his head, then glances up at her with a funny little twinkle in his eye. “You’re not trying to get some heartfelt admission out of this, are you? Not trying to use your womanly wiles against me?”

Scoffing, Emma takes a step away from him. “Womanly wiles?” she asks, walking toward the window and looking out it. The rain has started and it is coming down in sheets. “What is this, the 19th century? Afraid I’m going to bewitch you body and soul or something?”

Under his breathe, she thinks she hears, “You already have,” but the next thing he says aloud is “Austen. I can definitely see you as a Lizzie Bennett. Maybe even Lydia.”

“Don’t insult me like that,” she says jokingly. A glance over her shoulder proves that he’s raised his hands in defeat.

“Worry not, I only meant it in jest,” he assures her. When he lowers his hands, Killian’s expression takes on a more - she doesn’t want to say adoring, but that’s the only word she can think of right now - tone. “You’re my own Emma Bennett.”

She grimaces at him even though her stomach does a little clench-and-flip move at his words. “No, I won’t use this footage if you don’t want me to,” she tells him, effectively changing the topic. “Although I bet some of it would pull on viewers heartstrings. Make you more human and stuff like that.”

“No need for that.” Emma hears him stand from the stool, his footsteps falling heavy on the floor until they come to a halt right next to her. She can feel the warmth and comfort that radiates off his jacket without even trying. “Everyone I want to know about me is already well on their way to figuring me out.”

She turns to him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? What does that even mean?”

He sighs. “I’ve lived my life with my brother and our ships in this small town for a very long time,” Killian says, turning to face her completely. Emma, in turn, mimics him. Taking a step closer, he continues, “It’s not very often we have new residents move in or even longtime visitors such as yourself. I care about everyone in this town and they know exactly as much as I want them to about my life.” A grin forms as his face as the tip of his tongue licks at the corners of his mouth. “But you…”

Killian’s leaning into her space, a shy smile on his face and the tip of his nose a hair’s breadth away from hers. She feels a blush on her cheeks.

He’s going to kiss her. And she’s going to kiss him back. Again.

But the siren sounds and all hell breaks loose. Killian’s eyes shoot up in a flash, and he’s across the room staring directly at the scanner.

“Be advised,” a Coast Guard’s voice crackles over the radio. “We have reports of a crash on shore 15 miles due south of Georges Bank. Three persons reported missing. Two deckhands picked up by passing vessel. Be advised.”

“How awful,” Emma mutters, moving back to the camera, a finger pressing the record button and effectively pausing the film.

Killian turns around and winks at her. “Now do you trust me, Swan?”

The scanner comes back to life, repeating information they already know. Emma turns back to the camera, just about to ask him to take a seat, but new information reaches her ears.

“Vessel confirmed as Jewel of Realm. Captain among missing.”

She feels the blood run out of her face and before she can fully process what the radio dispatch said, she hears the quick clunk of Killian’s boots sprint down the stairs.

As Killian runs out the door, Emma grabs at the camera and follows closely behind him. She’s catches footage of him running through the storm, down and through his yard to the docks where he stands for a moment before sprinting back to his truck. Emma races after him, internally debating whether she should follow him in the Bug or hop in the passenger seat.

“Dammit, Swan, get in and let’s go,” Killian shouts, and she dutifully follows. Of course, she’s worried about Liam and his crew, but she’s been in this business long enough to know what makes the best television, and this is the shit that, for want of a better term, is fucking gold.

(In hindsight, and even in the moment, Emma feels horrible for seeming like she’s putting her job first. She’s grown to care about the brothers and the rest of the crews more than she ever thought she could. But this is something that could cost her the job that brought her to them if she doesn’t film it.)

Her camera isn’t the best in these close quarters, but Emma thinks it’ll add to the franticness and desperation of the situation. It also doesn’t hurt that she’s trying to rationally think about what she would would do if she weren’t tasked with catching the moments. With the back end of it steadied on the rumbling truck door, Emma sends a quick text to Jeff alerting him of the situation.

Jewel crashed. Three missing.

And then she jumps into camerawoman mode, asking Killian questions as he hunches over the steering wheel to make it down to the Coast Guard’s station.

“Talk to me, Jones,” she urges him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“What I’m thinking?” he shouts, the anger reverberating around the small metal cab. “Really, Swan, is that the best you have for me?” Killian flicks on the turn signal and the truck’s wheels screech as he rounds the corner. “My brother’s ship was just reported wrecked and he’s among the three unaccounted for.�� He glances over at her ruefully and sarcastically asks, “What do you think I’m feeling?”

“Anger,” she supplies easily. “Worry. Fear.”

“Yes, fine, if that’s what you want me to say, then yes.”

His voice is hollow and somewhat frightening. This isn’t the Killian she was just joking around with, the soft Killian she’d kissed before and nearly did again just now. Reading the tension in the car, Emma does something she’s been told to never do: she lowers the camera and turns it off.

“He’s going to be okay, Killian,” she says softly. She can barely hear her own voice over the sound of rain splattering on the windshield and windows. “You know that, right?”

“But I don’t,” he spits out. “I don’t know Liam’s going to be all right because the sea is a fickle bitch.She takes whatever men she desires whenever she cares for them, no matter if it’s their time or not.”

“You can’t afford to think like that.” With a deep breath, Emma decides without really deciding to reveal a story from her past. A real story that hurts to recount, because the only way she knows how to make Killian feel better is to tell him she knows what he’s going through. Sort of.

“I met David and Mary Margaret at community college when I was 17,” she starts. “During my second year, I met a guy who supposedly loved me. But Neal set me up to take the fall for his thefts.” She sighs. “I was young and pregnant and incarcerated and all I wanted to do was give up. Nothing was going my way and I honestly woke up sadder every day.” She gulps at the lump that’s formed in her throat. “But then I had Henry and it was alright.”

She looks up at him, grateful to find his laser focus on the road in front of them. “Whatever happens, whatever you find out at the Coast Guard station, you have to realize that it will be okay. And I know you probably don’t want to hear about me right now, but hopefully it took you mind off of the entire situation right now and you get - ”

Killian slams the gearshift into park. They’ve made it to the station, where some other cars are parked, getting soaked in the rain. He leans his forehead on the curve of the steering wheel.

“You’ve got to have some hope, Killian,” she murmurs. “Otherwise, you’ve already lost him.”

There’s silence. Then, “You truly are your son’s mother.”

Emma checks the camera, one hand strapping it back to her body and the other hand on door handle. “I’m choosing to take that as a compliment,” she says, pushing the passenger door open. “Let’s go.”

They both run through the rain, up the wooden stairs and into the warm and busyness of the building. Killian checks in with a woman behind a desk scanning a computer screen and reports back to Emma, who’s turned the camera back on and is catching footage of the Coast Guards running about.

“She said August and Mulan were found on the jetty. They’re banged up and a little worse for wear, but okay.” His hands akimbo on his hips, Killian stares at the floor and seems to get choked up. “Graham’s dead. They found him with the wreckage and he was already gone.”

Emma nearly drops the camera, hand covering her open mouth. Her eyes get watery. “No,” she whispers. “Killian, I am so sorry.”

Killian takes a deep breath to maintain his composure. He shakes his head. “He didn’t feel any pain. I’m sure he’s in a better place now.” Letting out a gasp, he finally looks up and into the camera. “He died doing what he loved.”

Emma takes a moment for herself, to let the news sink in. With him being on the Jewel’s crew, she’d never really had many occasions to hang out and truly get to know Graham, but they’d interacted often at crew dinners. The conversations they did have left her in a good place. He made her laugh. And now he’ll never make anyone else laugh again.

But then she’s thrown back into the hustle and bustle of the Coast Guard station. “What about Liam and Arthur?” she asks.

Killian shakes his head. “No word yet, nor David,” he says.

“What?!”

“He was out there too, remember?”

“Shit.” Whipping out her phone, Emma sends a hurried text to Mary Margaret. She needs to know, would want to know, especially before dinnertime.

Killian’s hand rests on her shoulder. “They’ve got men on shore and the copter overhead. They’ll find them.”

She nods and continues filming the hubbub and tension of the post, every once in a while glancing around to check on Killian. He paces the little lobby in front nervously.

A few more minutes pass before Mary Margaret storms in, more furious than Emma’s ever seen her, asking anybody in uniform about her husband’s welfare. Then she spots them in the corner and rushes up to them.

“Are they telling you anything? What’s going on?” she asks frantically.

Killian opens his mouth to answer her, but an officer calls Killian over to get some insight into Liam’s head, see if Killian can give them some pointers on where Liam might’ve been heading or where he might have been, just to narrow down the search fields. That leaves Emma to fill Mary Margaret in.

“They found Mulan and August, they’re alright,” she says. “They’re still looking for David, Liam, and Arthur.”

“What about Graham?”

Emma gulps. “He’s dead.”

Just as Emma did earlier, Mary Margaret covers her mouth in shock.

But that moment, too, is blessedly cut short.

“They found someone!” an officer shouts over the din of the station. “Four miles north on the shore.”

While Emma’s and Mary Margaret’s heads snap toward the man, Killian runs to him, leaning over his shoulder to look at the computer screen before them. “Who is it? Describe him.”

The officer presses his hand to his headphones, listening intently as his colleague describes their victim. “Medium build, Caucasian, light hair.”

Killian sighs while Mary Margaret runs to the other side of the officer, completely disregarding those who say civilians aren’t allowed back there without permission. “Is he okay? That’s David, is he okay?”

“We don’t know quite yet, ma’am, but initial reports still have him breathing,” the officer assures her.

“Oh, thank god,” Emma sighs, her hand coming to rest over her heart in relief. She doesn’t know what she’d do if she lost David. She figures that she wouldn’t be as heartbroken as his wife or his mother might be, but David was the first person to accept her for who she is without trying to change her. He accepted and helped her become the person she is today, whether he likes to admit to it or not. He’s the closest thing she has to family besides Henry.

“The others,” Killian asks, voice just this side of frantic as he addresses the officer. “Have your men seen any sign of the other two? Both Caucasian, darker hair, one curly.” A bit taken aback by the ferocity with which Killian speaks, the officer merely shakes his head slowly. “Nothing?” Killian slams his hand on desk in frustration. “Dammit, keep looking.”

Left with nothing to do but worry over whatever may happen, Emma - a little bit too easily - falls back into camerawoman mode. She catches shots of Killian bustling about, of him discussing coordinates and the like with the Coast Guard officers. When she figures she’s gotten good footage of everything she can think of, Emma phones Jefferson to let him in on the situation.

“I trust your judgment, Emma,” he says when she tells him what she’s recorded, his voice crackling over the connection. The storm must just be hitting his side of town, or ruined the phone lines as well as crash the Jewel. “Just make sure you capture the moment Killian discovers Liam’s okay.”

Emma gulps at the insinuation in her next question: “But what if he’s not?”

Jefferson doesn’t say anything for a long while - has Emma pulling back to look at her screen to make sure the line hasn’t gone dead - but ends the call with, “Get whatever happens. Don’t let your eyes leave him for one moment.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she mumbles before hanging up.

The next few hours are a blur. Logically, Emma knows that she should go home and get some rest. A watched pot never boils and all that. But the thought of leaving Jones alone to deal with this...she can’t do that to the poor guy, even if she was in one of her crueler moods. She knows what that’s like - to be at a low point, perhaps the lowest of your life, and have to suffer through it alone. That’d been her life until she met the Nolans, until she had Henry. And, though she doesn’t think they’ll ever be best friends or anything close to it, just ships passing in the night when alcohol or the mood hits them, Emma’s come to kind of care for Jones.

(She tells herself she likes Liam better, that's no question, but Killian holds his own in her book.)

Her back is up against the wall as she dozes, the camera set up on the action going on around her. It’s getting late and she’s put in a full day, despite not setting foot on the Roger. And she’d keep an eye on Jones if he would stop moving for a second, stayed stationary or maybe even paced a rut in the floor. But no - when he’s nervous, he’s a flurry of action.

It’s just as she’s rousing to text Ruby, asking her to stay with Henry at their house tonight - no one has any idea of how long the Coast Guard is going to keep this up - that all the mayhem comes to a pinnacle.

“Captain Jones!” an officer shouts. Killian rushes over to his post and she grabs the camera. Though Emma can’t hear what the officer is saying on her way over, the camera is trained on Killian. And she spots the moment his shoulders relax and his head falls forward in relief.

#csbb #captain swan big bang #captain swan #cs ft #ouat #guys this is one of my favorite chapters #I think it's really where the story ramps up #and their relationship starts to soar #UGH #THESE CHILDREN #MY DEATH #Mkay gonna go back to outlander #ditlot #my words #storytime #also i really am sorry this is late #i tried

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egle0702 · 7 years

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[TRANS] Bazaar June 2017 Park Hyungsik Interview

BORN TO BE WILD

Park Hyungsik calmly walked into the Hawaiian nature where sun, wind, fog, and sudden showers changed one another in unparalleled fashion like special effects. A full-fledged 26-year-old actor, who is slowly discovering the taste of acting, without a touch of fear or hesitation explored the unfamiliar world. The diverse Park Hyungsik’s prism that radiates between an innocent boyish face and a wild manly appearance. ----By Editor Kim Areum

When we met Park Hyungsik for the first time at the Honolulu Airport in Hawaii, he was completely covered in black, hiding behind a hat and a mask. The Hawaiian daylight was sweltering hot after spending a sleepless night aboard the plane. After some time of driving over the sauna-like asphalt, right when we got closer to the ocean, it felt like the cool breeze has finally shown its true colors and greeted us with a warm “welcome.” It was perhaps two hours after landing. When we met Park Hyungsik again at the Waikiki Beach, he wore red shorts and a white t-shirt with flaming red flowers on it. With his cap backwards, he defended his seat at the very front of a 15-seat mini bus with a certain boyish expression on his face. The person who likes ramyeon, enjoys computer games, and definitely adds spicy jalapenos into his spaghetti.

After having watched him closely for three days, we could say that actor Park Hyungsik is somewhat similar to a kitten that magically appears out of nowhere once someone starts shaking something fluttery. Shall we say he has a talent to arouse his surroundings by concentrating on the most trivial matters even when he is contemplating somewhere far away, out of his territory? This 26-year-old actor, with the eyes full of life and curiosity, would literally glue his face to the car window and stare for a while whenever unfamiliar yet recognizable aspects of nature would unfold in front of us. I can still see vividly clear his cute and innocent gestures when sea water gushed out like a mist in between rough rocks where they say you can see the humpback whales, or when we met the so-called Fire bird* that, according to the local legend, brought fire to Hawaii. His voice full of awe and admiration is still there in the recording when during the interview a small bird flew in the terrace and he was so enthusiastically curious about it. The improvised brilliant moments before arranged directing, when he simply reacted to the Hawaiian nature around him the way his body and mind instinctively told him to, are caught on camera, too.

As we gradually moved towards the east side of the Waikiki Beach in a small bus; sun, fog, wind, and sudden showers quickly changed one another. Park Hyungsik was naturally committed to anything, as he gladly went into whatever was to come next. When he ignored the huge waves coming from afar, boldly dashed forward splashing around, and comfortably lied down on crunchy sand, I suddenly thought that this was in line with the way of life and the general attitude of this person, who has recently displayed a lot of commendable acting on TV. It was unstoppable and natural. That evening Park Hyungsik, dressed in an azure blue Hawaiian shirt with red flamingos, downed three or four lean champagne glasses full of wine. As he usually doesn’t eat anything before the shoot, that night he quickly emptied a large plate full of a mountain of pasta. With his cheeks moderately flushed, we were able to have an unintentional interview with drinks.

The flight from Seoul to Hawaii takes over 10 hours, how did you spend it? I watched all the movies I haven’t seen before. I almost had no chance to watch anything for a year because I filmed Hwarang for 6 months and Strong Woman Do Bong-Soon for 5 months. There were a lot of movies I missed in the cinema, so I watched three or four titles on the plane. I really like Jo Jung-suk’s sly acting so I watched My Annoying Brother, and also La La Land. Don’t you get goose bumps when you hear the melody of the OST that Ryan Gosling played on a piano? It’s not anything flashy, but it somehow brings a lump to your throat. I regretted I quit learning piano when I was younger. My mother is a piano teacher, and she would hit my hands whenever I made a mistake. Now when I think about it, there was not much to it, if I had swallowed it down, I would be able now to at least play chords on a keyboard (laughs).

I think you should be rather lighthearted lately. Didn’t the recently completed Strong Woman Do Bong-Soon smash all the previous JTBC dramas and break the viewership rating record? I heard you started out on this one with quite a lot of pressure and apprehension. At the first script reading, the director and the writer sat right next to me, and Park Boyoung sat at the table across from me, so I couldn’t just stay nervous. I think that not only the writer, but everyone must’ve been somewhat doubtful about me at first. No matter how you look at it, it was my first lead role, and there was no way they could’ve inspected me beforehand, so it is only natural if they felt that way. It first started with “You’ll do okay,” or “I think you’ll do fine.” But after the drama wrap-up party, we went to Bali all together and I was really touched when the writer told me “thank you.” It felt like she wrote the script knowing me very well, and it was a drama where I could bring out a lot of things hidden within me. “Ah, so this is acting! Up until now I’ve been only imitating things,” was what I thought. I was really happy going to the filming site, it was always exciting. “How much fun would it be today?” I felt like this. (laugh) Especially when we were lying on a sofa with Bongsoon (Park Boyoung), and I confessed with “Please look at me, please love me,” that moment it was just “me.”

When we check out the behind the scenes videos, the laughter is never ending. The chemistry between the actors was so good it was hard to say where ad-libs ended. And also, didn’t the main couple eventually realize their happiness in love? It spurred a mass of sweet hashtags like #PuppyCouple, #CherryBlossomKiss, #KissingMaster, and so on. It seems that for this drama, you’ve walked down the petal road, so are there any hardships that you could recall? There was a scene on the rooftop where I had to get in the right mood, imagining there was a bomb left next to the person I love. We had had filmed many other scenes by that time and my body was tired, so as I tried acting I could feel I was short of strength. We did the first take, but I was so angry with myself, I couldn’t catch the genuine emotion we wanted so bad. But director Lee Hyungmin understood how I felt. “You don’t like it? If you still feel like it’s not it, let’s keep on shooting,” he said and I answered “I think I have felt my limits. I apologize for lacking so much.” But the next day the director suggested we try shooting that scene from yesterday again. I was really surprised because we had such a packed schedule. The director really trusted me and cared for me. I am very thankful.

Actually, it feels like you have not been affected by the acting skills dispute that constantly follows idol actors. Didn’t favorable comments like “the discovery of Park Hyungsik” stack one by one after each drama from Nine, What Happens to My Family?, Heirs, to High Society and Hwarang? Thankfully, my personal character does not really know such concepts as “embarrassment” or “shame.” The same applies to the instances when I stand on stage or act. At first my roles were really short and fleeting cameos, and in 2012 I had small roles in dramas I Remember You and Dummy Mommy. I was really excited just to have several lines. I had my share of poor acting in the series you didn’t mention in your question, but not that many people have seen my performance there, so they don’t know. When you think of it, it’s a relief. (laugh)

I’ve heard that you usually diligently check malicious comments online, is there a reason to it? Sometimes really sharp comments appear in between the malicious ones. When I read a comment where someone realistically points out some negative aspect I have noticed myself, I get a reassurance that people also think like that. Then I try to fix that negative aspect. I think that one day I can also turn towards a road downhill. So I’m the type who whips himself on purpose. Because I want to be calm and composed even if I have to go through bad times.

I found a rare video on YouTube. Someone collected Park Hyungsik’s videos from the Baby Soldier days up until now and made a 6-minute edit of the evolution of your appearance. Even though you debuted when you were 19, it’s like your face has changed since then. When I started filming for High Society in 2015, I began to look at what I eat. Before that, I had always been on a TV with a bloated face (laugh). I ate only chicken breast and salad, and as I exercised my baby fat and the swelling disappeared at once. With a sharper jaw line and the absence of thick cheeks even my eyes seemed to have grown bigger. I was surprised, too. When I looked at what my faced used to be like, I couldn’t drop the maintenance myself ever since (laugh).

You have just recently nested in a new agency, UAA. I think there is a lot of interest and expectation regarding your next work. Is there a role you would like to try out? Lately it’s been my biggest concern. After having entered a new company, I think I’m at the crossroads, where I am wondering what should be my first choice for the next filming. What should I display? Shall I show what I am good at? Or shall I take a risk in a completely new challenge? I have always chosen the challenge before, but now there is fear and worry. However, I want to try out another challenge again. Eventually, wouldn’t I meet a character I would love? I want to try out a psychopath role or a bully character with an overflowing sense of macho. I always express a human being as “cosmos.” You don’t know what might come out of that person. There is a general frame, but there are a lot of different sides within one person, and I think that each them has a different category. Since it’s important how you snatch and draw it all out, I want to work with the people who can recognize my potential.

“I really yearn for such art and people who have different emotions and expressiveness, and use that to move, touch, and inspire others.”

I heard your blood type is AB. Don’t people have some sort of expectation (?) about this blood type? What kind of person is Park Hyungsik? Ahn Minhyuk’s character from Strong Woman Do Bong-Soon is somewhat similar to me in a way that we’re both simple human beings who don’t hold grudges and don’t take everything too seriously. I’m a bit odd of a person. I also have a lot of completely different sides. You might think I would be quiet, but if I go to some unfamiliar place, I will like even dangerous things, and I might have fun like crazy. (laugh) When we went to Bali this time, I enjoyed jet skiing, fly boarding and other sea sports to the point my entire body was aching. And I usually tend to imagine the most trivial things. I like fantasy and sc-fi, and if there’s a new game released, I don’t get satisfied until I download it all and try it out. I’m a game “otaku.” (laugh) I also enjoy reading webtoons, and there’s this webtoon “Rebirth Man” (부활남) among the pieces that I read. It’s an action noir manga with the premise where the main character definitely dies, but after three days he comes back to life over and over again. Wouldn’t it be interesting to make a TV series or a movie out of it? If that happens, I would love to play the lead. I also like the webtoon “Lookism,” but the writer Park Taejun has already mentioned in variety shows Park Bogum or Ahn Jaehong as the actors he would pick for the lead characters. So I gave up on that (laugh). The main character’s name is similar to mine, so I had a little hope. The name of that webtoon character is Park Hyungseok. (laugh)

How do you fill in the “occupation” box in the immigration card when you go abroad or when you register on a website? I just write down “artist.” Actually, if you say “artist,” you can’t know exactly what kind of work that person is doing. You don’t know if the person is drawing something or making music or anything else. I really yearn for such art and people who have different emotions and expressiveness, and use that to move, touch, and inspire others. Admiring a painting for a long while just looking at it, getting goose bumps by watching a musical, crying while watching a movie or listening to some music – I really like all these kinds of things, so I think that’s why I keep on pursing art.

Last winter, when Park Seojoon did an interview with Bazaar, he said this: “Hyungsik quite innocently says things like “Hyung! I love you!” I think he expresses his gratitude this way, but I was somewhat baffled at first. If he would say “I love you,” I would answer awkwardly “Eh? Uh-huh, me too.” How do you use the word “love?” My motto is that we should live loving each other. Ever since I was little I found it odd if people were curt and didn’t express their feelings well. Why don’t people say “I love you” often? I always say “I love you” to the people I like. I sometimes leave “I love you” messages in the Hwarang team’s chat room. And then the “Me too” replies start coming. The words “I love you” are contagious. If I start using this expression, the others also assimilate it little by little. Perhaps it’s because I grew in a home that was overflowing with love, but even up till now I can naturally say things like “Father, I love you. Hyung, I love you.”

Does that power of expression activate when you’re dating, too? Of course. I say it to the person I love a lot, too. If you don’t say it, no one can know what’s inside. (laugh)

What’s your ideal type like? Someone who gets along with me well. Someone who looks lovely no matter what they do, someone with whom a sweet conversation always continues. However, lately with the ideals growing bit by bit, my standards also needlessly keep on getting higher. I find people like Amanda Seyfried or Emma Stone very charming (laugh). Either way, I can also find my person if I go outside and meet other people, but I think it has come down to this because I only think and don’t do anything.

*Hawaiian gallinule

Scans: SIKARISMA

Kor-Eng: Egle0702

MAY BE TAKEN OUT WITH PROPER CREDITS!

#Park Hyungsik #Bazaar #Park Hyungsik Bazaar #Bazaar magazine #park hyungsik interview #translation #박형식

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nicksilveirart · 5 years

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(SING!) Story Not Told, Chapter 15 – Road to Acceptance

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 (MATURE)

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Click here to read chapter 15:

"Ugh. She's not even that good." Becky stated, turning the TV off and tossing the remote onto the couch. Lance, who was watching her with mouth agape, shook his head. "Yeah, totally." He laughed. The girl left the room. Going over, he quickly grabbed the remote and turned the TV back on. Hell, Ash was rocking the crowd out! If only he was still with her, he'd be famous now. Soon his expression turned somber. If he had just hidden Becky for a few more days... "What have I done? A chance wasted!" He smacked the couch. "Babe? Who you're talking to?" "Uh... No one babes! Listen, I'm gonna grab us some food, be right back!" With that, he took off the hall, directed to his former girlfriend's place.

On the good side of town, two porcupines watched the live show, and couldn't believe their eyes. Besides them, a smaller porcupine cheered to the beat. "Sissy really rocks it!" "It ain't that bad, hearing it again." Michael looked over at his wife, who merely shrug. "It isn't. It doesn't talk about heavy themes, or even hint on them. Melody is kinda pleasing, maybe taking those horrifying drums away would do the magic." The patriarch stayed silent, watching the concert. "There's some things we can't change, right?" "The best we can do is support, Mike. Even if we brought her back, in one year she could leave to do whatever and we wouldn't be able to stop her." He sighed, and she hugged him. "I'm not happy with this. What, don't you think I rather have a lawyer for a daughter? I thought she'd be another one living in the streets and holding a 'will play for food' cardboard, but she can make a living out of this." He looked over at Marina. "And she's good at it!" Adam piped up, motioning as if he was playing the guitar. Matthew laughed softly at that. "The way to win her back is letting her be herself, right?" "Right." His wife nodded, smiling. "And you want to go there right now and talk to her, right?" "Smart boy! Car's ready?"

Back at the concert, Ash was done with her song, and slid on the floor during her last solo. Opening her eyes, she saw the crowd had taken shelter behind the chairs, and an amount of quills were poking out of seats, some others scattered on the ground. Sheepishly, she made her way back to the mic. "Uh... You guys okay?" She was surprised to see the crowd springing back to life, and cheering on her and her song. Not long after, Buster joined her onstage. "Look at that! We've just witnessed the birth of a genuine rockstar!" There were quills stuck on his face, and Ash pulled one of them out. "Moon, you got some stuck here..." "Ow!"

After the show, the contestants bid their farewell and went home to their families. All, in except for a certain koala and porcupine. While the koala spoke to two sheep, the porcupine was being praised by a friend. "Dude... That was like, totally awesome!" Tara was holding tight onto Ash, not seeming to mind her sharp quills. "And that last solo?! Daaaaaaamn! You were born to this, I can swear!" Ash looked over, and saw Buster talking to an elder sheep and Eddie. "I'm not some sort of rockstar, Tara." She laughed. "I did one public performance." "Then you're on your way there!" The girl let go of her friend. "Also... Your boyfriend there seemed to like it." She winked. "He was hyped by everyone's performance, it proves nothing. And... Want me to introduce you? He seems to be done with... Whatever was it that he was doing." Both sheep were leaving the theatre, and Buster jumped happily. "Lead the way, bud." Tara motioned ahead, and Ash walked her friend over to Buster. "Hey there, rockstar!" He quickly hugged her. "Who's your friend?" He said, looking at the slightly taller otter. "This is Tara. She's my friend who said you write like Orson Whales." "High praise. Thanks." He bowed and kissed the otter's hand. "And... She knows." He froze. "Oh. Uh..." He shifted a bit awkwardly. "Hey, I'm fine with it as long as you don't hurt her." She shrugged, laughing. "But if you do, I'll hurt you." "Wouldn't dream of it." Ash got closer to him, and he smiled and held her hand. "Good. Listen bud, I know I said I'd be here and everything but I kinda... Well, night shift at the studio. We're gonna try and record tonight, weather's just fine for the scene we're filming." "I knew you were leaving after the show." The porcupine laughed. "Good luck. Hug everyone there for me, and thanks for being here." "Wouldn't miss it for the world." Both girls hugged close, and the otter left the two lovers behind. "I'd invite you over to my house, but I don't have one. We could go out and eat something." Ash was about to reply, but looked ahead and saw another koala approaching them, being followed closely by three porcupines. "What is it?" He turned to see. "Laura?" "Mom and dad?" She whispered. Both exchanged a glance, and turned to their visitors. "Nice show you have here, Buster. Real smooth." "Laura, what the hell are you doing here?" "I just wanted to talk to you, but... In private." "I got nothing to say to you." "But I do." The other koala remained impassive. She sighed. "When you went to the Cove that night beat sense into Lance, I was the one who kept the guards away from you, you owe me this." "You kicked Lance's ass?" Ash turned to him, bewildered. He sheepishly shrugged. "Man, I wanted to see it! Anyone has it taped?" She looked at the other koala. Laura laughed. "Maybe the security cameras, dear. I can get you access in no time, allow me." Buster gave her a light stare, and she shot him a smirk. "Just trying to bond with your... Friend here." "You haven't changed the least bit." He sighed. "Okay. Backstage?" "Whatever floats your boat, Buster." "Alright. Be with you in a sec." The girl went ahead. Buster turned to his current girlfriend. "She's cool!" She smiled. "She's an ex-girlfriend of mine." Ash's smile faded. "She's also a cheater, like Lance there. That day I was just mad because of how he provoked you and everything, I tried to keep it cool but he started messing with my nerves, and... I'm sorry, I'm not usually violent. Just the way he spoke about you, it made me angry." "I don't mind you doing that, really, I've heard him talk dirt about me to some of his friends and never said a word. So thanks. But, your ex... Don't you think she will..?" She shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. "No! Hell no! Well, it wouldn't be mutual anyway. I'd stop her." She looked at his eyes trying to find any sign that he was lying. She wasn't sure about this, if Lance had so easily cheated on her when he had the chance, why wouldn't Buster? He had already kissed this girl anyway! What'd stop him from getting a taste? And then she realized. Buster wasn't Lance. He was the guy who told her not to get back to him because she'd end up heartbroken. He knew the pain of being cheated on, and wouldn't hurt her in that way, would he? "Ash?" "Don't cheat on me. Whatever you do, just don't..." Ignoring the porcupines right behind him, he gently hugged her. In a friendly manner, afraid that her parents would break them up right here. He gave her a tender smile. "I love you. And I wouldn't do that to you." He gently pecked her cheek. Ash smiled, melting into the hug. He wasn't Lance. They way they hugged was different. He felt different. Hell, even the hug felt different. It was warm, and cozy. He truly loved her, thing Lance had never done. "I love you too." Smiling to herself, she shot a glance at the three porcupines a bit ahead of them. Coming back to her senses, she quickly broke the hug. He looked at her confusedly. "My parents are here." She stated. "Go check what she wants while I handle this." "You're the best. Be right back." With that, he ran backstage. The porcupines approached, Adam quickly running up to his sister and pulling her into a tight hug. "You were great, sissy!" "Heh. Thanks, buddy." Ash couldn't stop looking at her parents, trying to decipher what they were thinking. Well, it was good while it lasted. They'd take her back in, to a life she hated, so she'd be the heir of a great fortune, and probably go to college to become a doctor. "Hey there..." "Hey, dear." Her mother said, approaching the girl. Her husband kept a distance. "We saw your... Show." Ash rolled her eyes. "And you're here to say it was terrible, and I'm not the girl you raised, and to take me back with you." Marina shook her head. "Doesn't sound that bad. I think this is your talent either I like it or not. The whole town seems to like it, soon you will make a living out of this." She shrugged. Ash was listening, dumbfounded. Who was this person and what had they done to her mother? "I accepted this was you a long time ago, Ash. I don't have to like it, or agree with it, this is how you're gonna be, period. And I wouldn't speak the truth if I didn't say we missed you." "A few days ago, we were just ready to take you back, don't fool yourself. Living in that joint." "You think I haven't noticed? You kept guard outside my apartment." The teenager rolled her eyes. "We do that because we worry about you, dear." "Well I don't need you to worry about me! I've been handling myself just fine since I left home!" Her mother lifted a hand in air. "After that... Night, two years ago, I thought you'd come running back. I thought you wouldn't make it, and would need our help. But you made this, and now you're city-wide famous, you'll soon get... Contracts? Is that what they're called?" The girl merely nodded. "And... Well, this is your life now. Plus, taking you back in would be of no use... Another year and you would leave and we'd just sit and watch." Michael came closer. "So what we're meaning to say is... We accept you. And congratulations, of course. I haven't seen anything like this since Crabdence came to town." "And it'd be nice if you just... Dropped by, eventually." "And stood away from drugs." Ash laughed. Of course. This was her parents she was talking about. "Hey I know they sound fun and the all but they're not, missy!" "I don't do drugs, dad. Never did, and don't plan on." "Good." Both elders said almost in unison, letting out a breath. "Don't be like those punks who die early because of a heroine overdose." Ash rolled her eyes. "I won't." Coming closer, Marina quickly pulled her into a hug. "I missed you, dear." "I missed you too." She looked up at her dad. Clearing his throat, he took a step forward. "Can you forgive me?" Ash perked a brow. "For?" "For... Doing that, the same night you left. I always thought that was what triggered you leave." "It was part of it." The patriarch looked down. "That, and you broke my guitar. And kicked my boyfriend out of the house. And made a scene at a party." "Hey, I'm not perfect!" The girl grinned, victoriously. "I just... Can't we put that behind us and start fresh?" "We can." She smiled. "It'd be nice if you dropped by one day, to have dinner." Marina spoke up. "Tara drops by eventually, between one shooting and another, it'd be a chance for you to hang. She's always tired, barely says a word, a friend of hers would do her some good." Ash chuckled lightly. "It's a ton of work, mom. There's a lot of people involved in the production." "I gave up trying to understand what was hard about you artists' life's a long while ago. I can't imagine that. To me, hard work is a pile of paperwork that has to be done." "Artists." She laughed, and turning to face her mom. "It's the first time you don't call them elements." The older woman cocked a brow. "Call you elements." The elder woman smirked. "You're one of them now, and no way in hell my daughter's an element." Ash looked back at her father. He was smiling. She rarely saw him smile. Smiling back, she motioned to both girls. He quickly embraced both his daughter and wife, staying like that for a long while. That was it. Finally. They didn't think of her as a failure anymore. Ash had her family back.

#story not told #sing #sing movie #sing 2016 #sing2016 #sing bustash #bustash #oc #sing fanfic #sing fanfiction #sing buster #sing ash #sing oc #ash #buster #buster x ash #ash x buster

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scribbles-by-kate · 7 years

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Thoughts on 6.18 “Where Bluebirds Fly”

It’s been a while since the show did anything substantial with Zelena, so I suppose they had to do something with her to bring her back into the fold and mend things with her sister. I pretty much guessed what would happen this episode. The press release hinted heavily at Zelena ending up without her magic by the end of the episode, and the sacrifice gives her some brownie points in terms of development, though I’m not sure where she goes from here in terms of contributing to story.

My Fan fiction My Once Upon a Time episode reviews, essays, and meta

Young Zelena was very sweet - she really was. Obviously people’s fear of her magic eventually made her believe magic was the only thing that was important - magic would never hurt her like people did. I can understand that.

Using your magic for good - means you’re not a monster. I like Stanum :) He and Zelena were obviously good friends. I think that maxim holds true for all the magic users - magic for good is fine, but magic for bad makes you a bad guy.

I guessed the Black Fairy was playing Zelena - I knew she wanted something from her. I had thought maybe she was going to kill her for Rumple, or offer to do so, but I knew Zelena was playing into her hands by going to the mines, and, of course, Zelena’s too stubborn to see it.

Why is Emma surprised at being happy? - I mean, if you’re really happy, you don’t question it. Emma seems to be questioning her happiness a lot, or is it really what’s making her happy? I don’t know: that was weird. It was kind of an uncomfortable scene.

Snow and wedding planning - of course she’s got a binder of ideas. I can’t believe she’s been planning since after the first curse! That’s nuts! Laughing at the fact that she’s paid back for the ‘tacos’ incident!

Regina and Zelena fighting - I know this episode was really meant to bring Zelena and Regina into conflict, since they hadn’t even really talked in so long. The fighting felt realistic. I always think Regina is the older sister, since she’s so much more rational and Zelena acts out her emotions so often. She goes off half-cocked and Regina has to pick up after her. It felt like real sisters fighting.

Rumple and Belle - I loved the hug and how happy Belle was to know Gideon isn’t at fault. I haven’t seen her smile like that in ages :) ‘This means he can be saved’ yay! I also loved how supportive she was of Rumple, saying he did what he did to protect Gideon and how he couldn’t have known his mother was pulling the strings. I love how they’ve been trading hope all this half season and she’s giving him a boost this time. It’s lovely that she’s supporting his decisions and just trusting him to take care of the Blue situation. Sometimes the best thing you can do is just stand with someone in their actions, and Belle is being amazing at that now. You can really see them building back trust. Poor Rumple is so frustrated, thinking he’s helped his mother by taking Blue’s magic and wanting so much to be able to wake her. He’s so worried and tense, poor baby.

Belle and Green Bean - this was so sweet. Emilie and Rebecca must have had a lot of fun filming Zelena asking Belle to look after her daughter when Emilie is the one with the daughter in real life. The baby was so cute as well the way she stared at Emilie and smiled when Emilie was playing with her. I’m sure that giraffe belonged to the baby, but I’m just imagining Belle having toys in the shop for her and Rumple’s baby. She was so sweet and loving with the baby, and didn’t show any sign of jealousy or hurt that she’d never gotten to raise her baby. She looked a bit regretful handing the baby back to Zelena, but I love how strong she is for not being angry or blaming anyone because she didn’t get to raise her baby. And I appreciate that Belle and Zelena recognise common ground in each other. I don’t see them as friends, but they recognise that they’re both mothers who love their children, and I think it’s nice that Zelena trusts Belle to look after her child now, after the debacle in the Underworld. I also appreciate that Belle’s relationships with people can be different from Rumple’s and that he wouldn’t try to impose his attitudes to people on Belle, and she wouldn’t do likewise. They can be their own people and have their own opinions about people, though I can’t see Zelena ever being invited over to the house after Rumple and Belle are back together.

Henry trying to cheat by using his powers - oh, Henry, you know you’re not supposed to do that! Or does it only count as cheating when you write in the book? I can’t remember the rules… But obviously the Final Battle is the way it has to be for some reason. Emma was never going to be able to get out of it

How does Regina not recognise her own niece? - I thought that was weird!

Your wickedness - I laughed at that, and at all the green food on the table!

Stanum is the tin man - I kinda thought he would be.

Zelena is afraid - I think she’s lonely, but she fears trying to make friends because she fears people will hate her or be afraid of her magic. And she doesn’t help herself either because of how she uses her magic.

Snowing fighting - I kinda thought that was weird. It was very bad taste bringing Whale up, and calling Granny’s a scrap heap? That wasn’t very nice. So, David was trying to sabotage the planning because he’s afraid of what’s coming? He’s afraid of the Final Battle and the Black Fairy, and he wants his daughter to be safe and have a wedding day without fear. I can understand that. He doesn’t want the best day of her life to turn into the worst. I get it. I still think he was a bit mean about throwing Whale in Snow’s face and what he said about Granny’s.

Why can’t they have the wedding on the ship? - That would be them, not a big fancy royal wedding. Emma’s a princess, but she never acted like one. She didn’t like princess Emma in the wish realm. It’s weird that they’re suggesting a royal wedding. And can she not keep her hands off Hook for like five seconds? She just looks clingy and nuts. And the way she looks at Henry when he speaks is a bit like ‘ew, you’re here?’ It’s like she’s forgotten or doesn’t care about her son. I don’t like this Emma.

Why does Zelena have to be better than everyone else? - I suppose it’s because she thinks magic is all she has, and it comforts her to know she’s ‘better’ at it than her sister. It doesn’t half get her into trouble though.

The chase through the mines - I thought this was a bit stupid. All of these women have magic! Why are they chasing each other?!

Fairy crystals - ok, how did Leroy and the other dwarfs never find these? There are LOADS of them! I suppose the Black Fairy wanted to use those to cast the Dark Curse, yes? The Final Battle is obviously part of this curse… I wonder what extra kick Zelena’s unstable magic would give these crystals. The crystals must take the place of the heart of the thing you love most. Unless the Black Fairy plans on using a heart, but I don’t think she is. I think she wants to do it differently. I presume Rumple is the thing she loves most and she wants him as part of her family, so using his heart would defeat the purpose of the curse.

Zelena’s sacrifice - so, she refused to give up her magic for Stanum, but now she realises she’ll always be alone if she doesn’t try to make friends and put down roots, so she’s willing to fix her mistake in letting herself be tricked by the Black Fairy by giving up her magic and untethering it from the crystals. I think that was brave. It’ll be interesting to see how she adjusts to life without magic, though I’m not sure what more the show can do with her, really. If they keep her, I think they’ll have to give her magic back at some point.

She’s one of us - right, Emma, you protect the child of the woman who tried to steal your brother and kill your own child, and killed Neal, but the son of the man who just saved your life is on his own. Good to know. Yeah, she’ll stick her neck out for everyone who’s last name isn’t Gold.

Regina proud of Zelena - I like that they apologised to each other and that Regina’s proud of her sister. I think acceptance and validation is all Zelena really wanted, and it wasn’t really fair to blame Zelena for Robin’s death, because that’s still on Emma for making the deal with Hades that allowed him to come to Storybrooke in the first place. Hell, it’s on Emma for bringing them all to the Underworld in the first place!

Rumple and Belle - I can’t believe they kept the whereabouts of the Blue Fairy hidden from everyone! But I love that Belle took the blame and then Rumple came in and said it was on both of them. They really are backing each other up and supporting each other, and it’s wonderful. I like how Rumple wants to be the one to return Blue’s magic, but I also like that he listens to Belle. I love how determined Belle is not to lose any more time with Gideon after realising how much time they’ve lost and aren’t going to get back. She’s so supportive and understanding, and she doesn’t tell Rumple what to do, she just makes a suggestion and explains why it might be a good idea to let them try. I love that, even though Rumple doesn’t trust the others and wanted to do this himself, he lets them try.

The Black Fairy’s darkest secret - is obviously something that Rumple won’t like, otherwise she’d tell him. It can’t be that she gave him up to give him his best chance: it has to be that she did something terrible to him, something he won’t be able to forgive. Have to say I loved Gideon goading her a bit :) And the way she’s sort of testy and defeated is how I wrote her in one of my recent fics, so I was pleased to align with canon characterisation :) Part of me is wondering if Rumple is maybe a bit afraid of Blue waking up because he thinks she may know something about why his mother gave him up, and he’s scared of finding out the truth.

#ouat #6.18 where bluebirds fly #scribbles-by-kate's episode reviews #rumbelle #anti-emma swan #zelena mills

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